Wednesday, March 25, 2015

The Two Faces of January

Channeling the great director himself, writer/director Hossein Amini delivers one of the most Hitchcockian thrillers I've seen in awhile with The Two Faces of January. Starring Aragorn (aka Viggo Mortensen), that girl from the first Spider-Man series (Kirsten Dunst), and one of the most sought-after, up-and-coming, young-actor-types of today, Oscar Issac, this film is a succinct story of trust set across Aegean Europe.

Rydal (Isaac) is a young American working as a tour guide and small-time con man in Athens when he stumbles upon Chester (Mortensen) and Collette McFarland (Dunst). At the Parthenon Rydal and Chester, strangers to one another, exchange a meaningful and questioning stare. Later, Collette is curious as well and both parties seem to have something more up their sleeve. Both are curious in finding out more. The McFarlands take him on as a guide and both seem to be feeling out the other, attempting to gain the upper hand. Who's past will come out and catch up with them first?

Two Faces has been compared to The Talented Mr. Ripley or Strangers on a Train and rightly so. In fact, I think it takes the strengths of each of those movies and improves on them. Mr. Ripley was overlong as the third-act chase became more desperate while Strangers lacked the visual style and dynamic use of light in Two Faces. The cinematography takes advantage of the exotic on-location setting and the accompanying music hits all the right beats, creating an aura that moves from curious intrigue to life-or-death entanglement. What's more, the ending of this film has a much more satisfying overall story arc (be sure, though, that one or more tragic events do occur along the way).

If you are familiar with ancient mythology you may know of Janus, aka January, the god of transitions and change. Often depicted as a two-faced man, looking to both the future and the past, the symbolism has been used before in the '90's James Bond film Goldeneye (arguable Pierce Brosnan's best as 007). I think because of that reference I imagined the Viggo Mortensen character to be one of dual personalities, a seemingly good man that turns out to be ruinous and conniving to those around him. During the film's climax I wondered if perhaps the twist is that it's the other way around. Rydal has unmentioned history with his father that is implied to be negative. As Chester becomes a sort of twisted father figure consider how this whole affair, in the end, may serve as a reckoning for Rydal.

Perhaps because it did stick so closely to genre, The Two Faces of January wasn't a critical hit and seemed to pass by unnoticed at the box office. Give it a chance when you are in the mood for something with characters that spend a lot of time in the shadows. Produced by the team of people that made the grossly underrated Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, The Talented Mr. Ripley, and Drive, it is worth your time.

Wednesday, February 25, 2015

Whiplash

Oh man. I just saw Whiplash and I am still reeling. I can't remember ever having such an electrifying experience watching a movie (I swear I wrote that before finding the poster on the left with the word "ELECTRIFYING" in all caps). I was riveted, on the edge of my seat strung up with excitement by this thing. It'll have you on your toes, sometimes shaking with anxiety and other times bursting with anger and then joyously applauding at the end. Whiplash indeed.

Whiplash follows Andrew Neimann, a first-year jazz drummer at the fictional Sheffield Music Conservatory in New York, the best in the country. Apart from going to movies occasionally with his dad, Andrew spends all his time practicing and playing jazz drums. When he gets noticed by Fletcher, the director of the school's top ensemble (an Oscar-winning performance by JK Simmons),  he think's he's finally made it. Then Fletcher hurls a chair at his head and verbally abuses him to the point of tears. He's in the big leagues now.

Maybe it's because I had a taste for how nasty it was going to get, but I was just wiggling with anxiety, half anticipating/half dreading when the shoe would drop. And once it does for the first time you just never know when it's going to hit again. JK Simmon's performance is just gnarly and intense. He plays a man with a single-minded, unbending vision: create truly great jazz musicians, no matter the cost. For him, this means pushing them to the brink of their own destruction. The ends justify the means. He makes the tiger mom look like a cuddly kitten. At one point he pits three drummers against each other for hours on end. He dismisses the rest of the band while the three battle it out one after another and you can see Fletcher is in his element, relishing the opportunity to just dig in, give in to his rage, and make them suffer it out. Andrew plays until his hands are bleeding. This movie has more sweat and blood-stained drum sets then a Tool concert.


Scenes of endless practicing on his own and the abuse-ridden ensemble rehearsals are offset in the first couple of acts of the story with pieces forming Andrew's personal life. His dad raised him mostly as a single father. There's a cute girl named Nicole he asks out that works at a movie theater. As his prominence at school increases he explains to her and to his family that he doesn't need friends and that being in a relationship will only hold him back from being one of the greats. He knows that it takes sacrifice to become one of the great jazz artists of all time like Charlie Parker. He's willing to do whatever it takes and explicitly states this.


Writer/Director Damian Chazelle (who just turned 30) reportedly based the movie on his own experience dealing with an overbearing band teacher in high school. I did band all through school and even had a teacher that had some mildly-similar elements. (Also, did I mention the director completed this movie by the time he was 29?!? So impressive.) Fletcher's character is certainly extreme, with some complaining that it is unrealistically so, but it is brilliantly carried out. Yeah, we know that life as a jazz student isn't' exactly like this - so what? Keep watch for when he takes off his jacket, usually a sign he's doing what he thinks is his most important work. Miles Teller's performance of Andrew show's great range as well as his character transitions from a young hopeful pup to a cocky upstart, then a broken down hound dog and finally an experienced wolf that, although not a master, has a couple of lessons under his belt. Now that he's been through the first few bumps he's more dedicated then ever.

The movie really asks two questions: What does it really take to achieve greatness? And then the follow up, is it worth it? The final act is exhilarating, jump-out-of-your-seat kind of stuff. I do like jazz, especially the type in this movie. But I think even if you know nothing and care nothing for jazz, the performances, the visuals, the editing, and the resulting energy and dynamics of the final scenes will get anyone going. Even as you see the relationship between Andrew and Fletcher change and then change again during an extended musical sequence, you never know right till the last moment how it's going to end and what it means. And even then the movie still leaves it up to the viewer's interpretation. Maybe the answers that you think the movie is giving to those questions says more about you than about the movie.


Once you've seen the ending I think you'll agree that it was nail-bitingly fun. I thought it was more exciting and nervous-laughter-inducing, anxiety-driven fun than any great thriller can provide. Those final 15 minutes, with almost no spoken lines, tell the story that sums up the journey Andrew has made, all while leaving it up to the viewer to decide if it's the outcome you were hoping for or not. Andrew seems to have given over completely to the dark side, now really knowing the choice he's making. Fletcher seems to really have been the genius jedi-trainer that he purports to be the whole time. But there is still question as to what lessons has Andrew really learned and will he be the wiser for it? He certainly knows better than ever how to get what he wants but we are left still asking, "Is it worth it?" And having enjoyed a mind-bendingly awesome 9-minute drum solo, we wonder if Fletcher's really all that crazy in his purpose.

Rated R for very strong, abusive, and emotional language. Definitely not for the faint in heart.

Thursday, February 19, 2015

Boyhood - 12 Years A Boy [Oscars Week]

Communication relies on shared understanding. A lot of film today communicates to its audience by culturally and technically established techniques - a language has been created and we're trained to pick up on it. Whether that be the arc of the story, the hints from the musical score, the quick cuts, etc. Many of these were first done a hundred years ago in silent film. Guys like Charlie Chaplin and Buster Keaton created physical gags and the new artform of film was free to create a new way to tell stories. It's only natural that 100 years later there is a language and many movies rely on that to get across their point. And yes, blockbusters intended for mass, commercial appeal are often the ones to rely on the easiest bits of that language - and there's nothing wrong with that. The magic about Boyhood is that it communicates with a language established long before the creation of the medium of film: the language of life.

The writer and director of Boyhood, Richard Linklater, is a great filmmaker that has been making interesting movies for awhile now. The concept for this movie was simple yet unprecedented: film a story about a boy a few days every year for 12 years and see him age and grow on screen in one film. This is a beautiful idea designed to circumvent that moment where you see the young actor and then all of a sudden the new actor in the same part of the frame or in a similar setting to tell you "yes, this is a different actor, but it's the same character - get it?" No need for that. So that's the gimmick, in its basest, and the beautiful experiment, at its best.

So how does Lilnklater tap into the language of life and film for Boyhood? Certainly other filmmakers have done it before: show everyday interactions and let the character reveal himself. Linklater is really good at these scenes. He shows a couple of boys engrossed in video games oblivious to the fact that one of their mothers is lost as she escapes an abusive relationship. He shows a girl on a bike having a quick conversation with the new kid in town while he walks home. He shows the slightly-forced feeling ceremonies like birthday parties and graduations with extended family you don't really know. Even more than the situations though (all of which might appear in a more traditional, straightforward drama), he writes it and the actors act it in a way that makes you think "I've been in that situation." Yes, there are some melodramatic moments, but even those just happen on the screen without much pushing and prodding of the audience.

All of that has been done before too, but then you add the gimmick, the same people over 12 years. And you realize it is just like your life. One of the criticisms of the movie is that they main character's performance, Mason - played by Ellar Coltrone, is uneven. But that's just like anyone's childhood. You were friends with that really popular kid in 5th grade but then became a music nerd in high school. You were interested in cars and camping but then switched to girls and art. You were more moody younger but then you mellowed out. As I watched the movie I remembered odd, uncharacteristic moments of my life and saw myself in those places and how I become a totally different person than the one you might have seen in that situation.

I guess part of the point I'm making is that it helps the viewer to realize that among the host of mundane small moments in your life your character is formed. As I watch this movie I see that there are moments that can look and sound a lot like mine. Or at least they feel that way. Certainly there are many that aren't: I never drank or had sex in high school (I was never invited to do either). As a parent I often disagreed with decisions that the divorced mother, played by Patrician Arquette, or father, played by Ethan Hawke, were making. The events shown aren't in and of themselves really cinematic, but Boyhood makes them that way without really changing them at all. As you see these characters in these daily interactions and as you relate to them it becomes personal. It makes me want to react to life in a more positive way having, for a brief 2 1/2 hours, looked back at it and reflected on it as a long-term event.

I suppose it seems like an obvious choice, but the music used reflects the year that they were filming and I loved how it was employed. The first few moments kind of threw me because I was expecting the soft acoustic music of the trailer but instead got Coldplay's "Yellow" and later on Sheryl Crow's "Soak Up The Sun." Maybe it's just because I'm a music nerd, but because it is always contemporary to the year they were filming, I found myself reflecting on where I was in life when first hearing that music and this added up to a reflection of how I've changed over the past 12 years. That added dimension made the time in the movie fly by and made my own life seem very fleeting. As soon as I was finished watching this movie I just wanted to watch it over again.

Generally PG-13 but rated R for language.

Wednesday, February 18, 2015

American Sniper - The Heroism in Difficult Decisions [Oscars week]

As the story of American Sniper developed from the revealing of the initial trailer, to the end-of-year limited release in NY & LA to qualify for the Oscars, and then the controversy and blockbuster success, I knew this was going to be the one that would get my mom to go see an R-rated movie. Tonight she and I went to see the Clint Eastwood-directed film. I was glad we got the chance to see it together. It's a heavy film, and one that has inspired many impassioned op-eds and reviews for or against many different perspectives. But at the end, as we sat and watched the music-less credits roll, alone in the theater, what we felt the most was a somber regard for human life and the toll war takes on those it touches.

American Sniper tells the story of Navy SEAL Chris Kyle, one of the most-skilled and most-successful snipers in US military history, and his four tours in Iraq. It opens in media res during an operation in which Kyle, played by Bradley Cooper, provides overwatch for a group of marines canvasing an urban setting for insurgents. He's perched on a roof, belly-down, surveying the area through his scope for possible threats to the soldiers on the ground. A woman and a boy come out of a building holding a grenade and he has to make a difficult choice. This scene, which cuts back in time and returns us to that point through backstory that presents the foundation for Kyle's character, establishes a feeling of intensity constantly accompanied with difficult choices of right and wrong, of bad and worse. We see how he's encouraged from a young age to fight not as a wolf but as a sheep-dog: in protection of others. As a young man this instinct sets in at a time of life when he's coasting along in the Texas rodeo circuit. A decisive man, he immediately enlists in the armed forces and we follow along as he goes through BUDS training and sniper school. At the same time we watch the romance as he meets Taya and starts his life together with her. At his wedding his team receives the deployment call and the bulk of the film follows Kyle to Iraq and back home again and again. We see his glories on the battlefield. We see the toils of war taken home.

Bradley Cooper makes Chris Kyle a lovable and noble character. He's a quiet giant with a sincere Texan charm who isn't afraid to open his heart at any moment when you wouldn't expect. When he first meets his future bride at a bar she playfully jokes that she couldn't marry a Navy SEAL. In gentlemanly fashion he bids her adieu at this news and then Taya, in a lovely performance by Sienna Miller, getting a small glimpse revealing that this guy is different from the rest, admits she's willing to give him a chance. The scenes of Kyle's youth are key to the person that he is in the later acts of the film. Hunting with his father, reverence at church, lectures on fighting for those that need protection - these all kick in automatically when, in Kyle's understanding, the need to protect becomes critical. I suppose these things might seem cliche to some, but they are carried out subtly and expertly. He's not a perfect man and, certainly under the conditions of going and back and forth between war and home, his ability to keep the cool and clear philosophy that makes him tick becomes challenged. I don't mean to say that he ever doubts his role as a soldier, but rather it proves difficult to operate as a civilian among his wife and kids knowing that he could be helping save lives half a world away.

I think the real heroism of the character that Eastwood and Cooper give us in American Sniper is not in his courage in the face of death or in the combination of talent and determination that feed his skill at shooting, but in the resolve of character that allows Chris Kyle to make difficult decisions. This much is clear as he reflects on a letter written by a fallen soldier and comrade after a funeral. Although a poor decision and a surprise enemy onslaught resulted in his friend's death, Kyle says it is the doubt expressed in the letter that really caused him to die. Some may describe it as willed ignorance or justification of the many lives he ended from his eagle-eye perch, but it is actually a result of his facing the reality of his role as sniper and the reason for his service - in other words looking at the worst full in the face - that allows him to achieve calm acceptance of who he is and what he does. He is able to cordon off sections of debate that don't fall under his purview as a soldier. The reverence and clear respect for his situation allows him to consider shooting a child picking up a gun at the same time he scolds fellow soldiers for congratulating him on a kill.

While there are many life-affecting decisions that Chris Kyle makes in the film, two are key to the development of the character. The first is made in the spur of the moment by a cowboy waking up to the reality of the larger world. The second, made just as quickly, comes to a man realizing when it's time to come home. Watch for the symbolism of where Kyle puts his gun as a sign of this. As a sandstorm engulfs a messy, nearly-fatal operation for Kyle, and after scrambling to phone his wife mid-battle and tell her he's ready to truly leave the war, you'll see his gun, ammo, and helmet left in the sand signifying he's ready to accept and give in. Conventional wisdom might say the decision to go to war is the most difficult and self-sacrificing, but it's the choice to live that becomes so understandably elusive for many veterans. And as with so many suffering from withdrawal of one kind or another, Chris aids his own recovery by offering his friendship to veterans stateside after he's finished his military service.

As for the controversy surrounding the film, I think most viewers will realize it has been played up for press attention from both sides of the political aisle. I've read multiple articles for or against the film and it is clear that those opinions expressed were held before American Sniper and are the same afterward. I listened to Terry Gross from NPR interview Bradley Cooper about his role in American Sniper and, apart from being a great discussion about the movie (Terry's movie interviews are always so great), it reveals that Cooper was an early producer/champion for the film before Kyle's death in 2013 and had always planned on it being about the man and not an overall statement of the war. The film stays true to that and anyone claiming it makes a blanket statement one way or the other fails to differentiate the artistic portrayal of a character - who he is and who he becomes - from their own thoughts on the larger forces at play, which are beyond the scope addressed in this story.

Among many, there are a few other things I'd like to note. At times American Sniper is a real-time, war procedural. The action is played out clearly and simply and if it weren't against the backdrop of real events, the exhilaration of these scenes would be fun. Equally riveting is the story of Chris Kyle stateside as his wife struggles to get him to open up and be at home when he is at home. I can't comment expertly on the cinematography and production design accept that it seems to be done simply and expertly, providing realistic settings and characters (except for the unfortunately and humorously distracting baby) along with enough bird's-eye perspective to provide beautifully realistic environments through both sight and sound. It's a great movie all around, and one you can take your mother to go see.

Rated R for violence and language.

Thursday, February 12, 2015

Books I read in 2014


Maybe mark this one as TL;DR. A belated post of the books I read in 2014. A fairly short list as I spend so much time watching movies (I also dabble in a little bit of work and family time when I can). I'm usually listening to a book during commutes and reading actual books in fits and starts. Let me know what you've read and what you've thought. An asterisk (*) by the title denotes those I've read before.
  • Stranger In a Strange Land by Robert A. Heinlein
    • A crazy read. I've never read Robert Heinlein before and this is not what I was expecting. It's not really a literary experience, which is what I was hoping for, but instead is an exploration, using a sci-fi scenario, to see what a human being without any human acculturation would do in human society thrown in cold turkey. Michael Smith, the man from mars as he becomes known in the book, was born on Mars and raised by martians - a wholly different species of beings with an advanced culture that see the world completely differently. I didn't really enjoy the structure of the book, per se, but I did find it extremely interesting to think about what sort of truth comes out when you accept cultural differences and open your mind to completely different formats for traditional cultural institutions.
    • Through this situation Heinlein turns the understood concepts of religion, love, sex, marriage, and money, among others (even cannibalism - what?!?), on their head. Much of it can seem really jarring, especially because the way it's portrayed and explained in detail (that is, the philosophy of each of those things - no graphic sex, etc.) convinces me that Heinlein legitimately wants people to consider these things - he's not just trying to entertain or make the reader feel an emotion. A quick perusal of his wikipedia page will confirm he believed and may have lived some of the interesting things he is putting out there. I found a few things interestingly in line with my own faith. Mormonism (along with many, many other -isms) is mentioned several times and certain structures of the story match the Mormon origin story - but most of them only in agreement with certain theoretical concepts. Michael Smith, by the end of the story, takes a viewpoint of religion very much like Pi from Life of Pi (ie, the truth in all religions and thought, the desire to want to live all religions) except with a more definite standpoint supported by evidence within the story.
    • It was written in the 60's and it feels like the 60's. It's a futuristic story and there are some interesting predictions that are actually relatively true, although many that just seem corny based on the rate that different technologies and sociological functions have evolved (commercial advertisements, for one). A pretty long book.
  • Escape from Camp 14 by Blaine Harden
    • I listened to this as an audiobook read by the author. A pretty amazing read. The escape is really not the most exciting part of the book, though it is astounding how truly lucky he was. Like a drop through a leak he just happened to make it out of both the prison camp and then out of the country with very little planning or street smarts. His story shines a light, through an individual example, of the worst of what is happening in North Korea. It seems shameful that the rest of the world hasn't done more after decades and decades of Nazi-level treatment of hundreds and thousands (now numbering millions through the years).
    • It also provides an insight in to what a truly alien experience is like. He was someone with no knowledge of the outsides world. He hadn't been taught that the world was flat and had barely even heard of life outside the camp within North Korea, let alone the rest of the planet. It compares to Stranger in a Strange Land in that regard but that sci-fi story pales in its ability to movingly relate that experience compared to this. 
  • Breakfast of Champions by Kurt Vonnegut
    • There are a lot of great things about this book. I like the general premise and the way Vonnegut writes himself into the story- it's obviously an autobiographical reflection. It's similar in style to the Spike Jonze/Charlie Kaufman film Adaptation. He does what he says he's going to at the start: get out all the garbage characters and plot lines he has banging around his head in one book. There is an overabundance of characters and the standard Vonnegut style is there, but it doesn't deliver as much humorous or emotional impact as he has proven he can do in other stories.
  • Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte
    • A worthy classic. Definitely read it. It didn't leave me floored but I really appreciate how she sticks to her guns no matter what. Check out the 2011 film adaptation starring Mia Wasikowska and Michael Fassbender, which was what inspired me to read the book.
  • The Descendents by Kaui Hart Hemmings
    • Another book I read after watching the movie. A Hawaiian-born lawyer's wife is in a coma when he finds out she was cheating on him. He has to work through his feelings while dealing with his two daughters and surrounding friends and family whilst in the middle of making a big decision on his family's heritage: a huge parcel of land for which he is the sole decider on whether or not to sell to corporate developers or keep it pristinely untouched. Needless to say, the different challenges inform each other. I love a story where a character has to work towards forgiveness.
  • American Gods by Neil Gaiman
    • Read my full review. This book is all about Gaiman's interpretation of America as a conglomeration of belief. The best representation of this comes in a speech by one of the book's best characters, Samantha Black Crow. Known by fans of the book as the "I believe" speech, it reflects a culture that can paradoxically believe in many hypocritical maxims with sincerity. Read the speech here.
  • The Giver* by Lois Lowry
    • I wanted to revisit this before the movie came out. I never ended up watching the movie because the trailer looked terrible and reviews confirmed that it is a huge departure from the story. The book was as good as ever. What? You haven't read it?! Get to work!
  • Call of the Wild by Jack London, and...
  • White Fang by Jack London
    • Read my review of both Call of the Wild and White Fang. These might be my favorite reads from last year. They really inspire me to want to live in the moment and find the things that gets me into my "flow," as I've heard it called.
  • Ender's Game: Alive by Orson Scott Card
    • I listened to this and it was enjoyable. It doesn't count as reading the book, so don't listen to this unless you've read the book. As a huge Ender's Game fan that is my recommendation to you. This is an Audioplay - a play in audio form. There is no narrator and there is music and sound effects (i.e. foley artists making the sound of feet walking, lasers firing, etc., in order to take care of some of the setting and exposition).
    • As a fan of the book, it is fun to listen to, but just not as good as the book. It adds things that are not in the book. It expands on some of the teacher conversations. It has whole new scenes. It has explanations on things that didn't have explanations before, and that might be different from what you would have assumed or expected, based on the book. It is really Orson Scott Card's interpretation, today, of his own story. On his website (hatrack.com) you can find a video introduction explaining the existence of this audioplay. In it he says he thinks it's the most definitive, truest version of the story - or something along those lines. It's not. It misses the mark, mostly because without the narrator and without getting inside Ender's head, you just miss some of greatest parts of Ender's Game (like the mediocre movie adaptation). Also, certain sequences are reduced, like the entire section from Ender's first army assignment in Battle School and especially his rising up the ranks as commander of Dragon Army. Don't get me wrong, many of the best bits from those parts are necessary and included, but you don't delve into that part of the book as deeply.
    • The best new addition, however, is Major Jayadi. She is a psychologist and often takes the place of Major Anderson (although he still has mostly his full role) in the one-on-one conversations with Col. Graff, discussing Ender. Maybe its just her British accent, but she provides an expanded opportunity for Col. Graff to expound on why he's doing what he's doing with Ender. Another reason not to listen to this if you haven't read the book is that the ending is revealed in a different way and doesn't have as much of an impact as the book. Read below if you don't mind spoilers.
    • **SPOILER ALERT** Of course, the emotional climax comes for Ender at the end when he realizes all of the battles at Command School with his Jeesh were real. Leading up to that, in the book, you have no idea. Not so in this version. You may not exactly get the whole concept, because I don't think its ever explicitly stated, but you would know they weren't fighting in our solar system and that the "simulations" are real. It's interesting in that you get some more of the conversations between Mazer Rackham and Col. Graff, but you also miss out on the reveal.
  • The Old Man and the Sea* by Ernest Hemingway
    • A top 5 all-time book for me. Similarly to the Jack London books, it's very visceral and symbolic and grounded in nature. It's a very short read and is his best so don't hesitate to pick it up.

  • Harry Potter 1-7* by JK Rowling
    • We were doing a long road trip and for those I often prefer familiar books that I know I'll want to keep listening to. We got through 3.5 books on the trip and I just kept listening. Jim Dale as reader is truly the definitive voice of the Harry Potter series.
  • Master & Commander by Patrick O'Brian
    • Just the best historical fiction you can find. If there is any chance you enjoy British naval battles, are interested in life as a sailor, want to learn about being a physician during the late 1700's-early 1800's, like the idea of starting a long series, or enjoyed the Master and Commander movie (starring Russell Crowe) you should give this a try. It's a bit of a hurdle to overcome the sailing lingo, which is very heavy (get the book A Sea of Words to help with this), but once you do you feel like you can speak a whole new language.
  • A Sea of Words by Dean King
    • This book is basically a glossary of terms relating to ships, sailing, and the navy as per the Aubrey/Maturin series by Patrick O'Brian. If you are interested in the English Navy during the Napoleonic Wars it might be of interest to you, otherwise I recommend it only as a pre-read and continuing reference book while you read the O'Brian books.
    • I started the first book in the series years ago after watching the great film Master and Commander: Far Side of the World (dir. Peter Weir) which is now one of my favorite movies. I quickly was overwhelmed with the terminology to the point that I couldn't go on without getting more info. I got a recommendation for this book and finally ordered it for $4 on amazon - it was money well spent! 
    • There are about 75 pages at the front of the book that give an overview of the structure of the navy and its fleet, the history of the Napoleonic Wars from about 1785-1815, as well as the basics of naval medicine and illustrations of sails, rigging, and a variety of boats/ships mentioned in the series. That gave me a great foundation to start the book and as I go through the first installment in the series I refer often (sometimes every paragraph) to the glossary. You could potentially skip over many terms if constantly referring to this book becomes annoying, but I figure that by looking at everything I can now I will more easily shed the need to look up all these terms as I progress through the series - which I am really enjoying! Beyond just ship/sailing terminology, it is a reference for all the colloquial and cultural terms and I would say try looking up even words you think you know because you'll find that at the time they may have had different meanings.
  • Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman
    • I was first introduced to Neil Gaiman through The Graveyard Book and have been reading through his bibliography hoping to find the magic of that book but I never quite seem to reach it. Neverwhere was a good book. It is a modern-day fantasy set in London that takes us, through the eyes of Richard Mayhew - an every-man character - to London Below, a fantastical underworld to the more ho-hum reality of London Above. I think fantasy lovers will really get into it, and I did, but there were so many obvious plot points that I got a little bored at times. There are plenty of great moments as well and some fantasy elements that are great ideas, like the main character Door, who has the power to open or create doors that normally aren't easily opened. I listened to this and so enjoyed Neil Gaiman's perfect narration performance, which ameliorated the experience.
  • Thinking, Fast and Slow by Daniel Kahneman
    • A great and lengthy summation of a whole lot of fallacies in our common thinking, laid out with moderation and understanding as well as a good explanation as to the two main types of thinking our brain does and how to notice them.
  • Farewell, My Subaru by Doug Fine
    • I'm not a staunch environmentalist by any means but sustainability seems like a no-brainer. What do I do about it personally? Mandated recycling. I try to use just one paper towel. I recently bought some long-lasting lightbulbs because of the government-mandated retiring of traditional incandescents. What else? Well Doug Fine went the whole way and tells the story of how he did it. The writing is easy, engaging, and funny and it made me want to do more. Great read. 

Monday, January 19, 2015

Film: The Wind Rises

It may end up being remembered that Hayo Miyazaki was the last powerful force in hand-drawn animated films. While there is certainly some great stuff happening around the world uniquely using and creating new or hybrid forms of classic animation -- see Tom Moore from Ireland (The Secret of Kells and his latest Song of the Sea, recently nominated for an Oscar) or Sylvain Chomet in France (The Triplets of BellevilleThe Illusionist) or Ari Folman from Israel (Waltz with Bashir, The Congress) -- Miyazaki and his beloved Studio Ghibli, rumored to be closing shop or at least shifting gears from feature films, has been the most consistent in continuing to make great, classically animated movies in an era of 3D-animation dominance. The reason sounds to be the same that causes even legendary, blockbuster filmmakers like Steven Speilberg and George Lucas to have said it is hard to make profitable anything other than a studio-based tentpole movie in today's climate: money.

But my point is not to decry what's happening on a larger scale in movies today (something I have only borrowed opinions on anyway). Rather, it is to draw your attention to a great movie by Miyazaki that, even it it doesn't end up being his last film, serves as a bittersweet culmination of a master's body of work and could be the swan song signifying the end of an era. The Wind Rises, Hayao Miyazaki's final feature (or so he says), is that film. It tells the story of Jiro Horikoshi, an aircraft engineer well-known for designing the WWII era Zero Fighter for Japan. Miyazaki makes up most of the details of Horikoshi's life but says he feels like it represents his character and his mindset. One of these fabricated details is Jiro's wife, Naoko. Making such a sweet, fully-formed love story serve as part of the core of a movie is another departure for Miyazaki, but not one I would've ever doubted he could do so well. The Wind Rises is a devastatingly beautiful film reflection on dreams and love and flying. On many levels, this is lofty stuff indeed.

Naoko and Jiro - a fated meeting
For those that know Miyazaki's work, the subject matter is a first sign that this might be a different sort of movie for him. Known for creating visually and conceptually stunning fantasy worlds featuring youthful heroines in films like Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind, Princess Mononoke, Spirited Away, and Howl's Moving Castle; this is the first time he bases a film on real characters, with an adult male protagonist, no less. The distinction becomes more pronounced through the watching. Jiro is a man drawn with focused passion towards both his life's work and love. Rather than a more short-term film focused on a compacted series of events, it looks at a larger span of life. The emotional climax is less forced by time and situation than by relationships and reflection. As I mentioned, there is a beautiful love story tied to the movie's core. The themes of the film are more mature than I've seen from him and seem like they are very much coming from the mind of a man pondering on time spent and a life lived. In a press conference announcing the completion of the film, the man playing the voice of Jiro, Hideaki Anno, a director mentee of Miyazaki and non-actor doing his first major voice-acting role, said that he sees his mentor as never having really grown up, that this movie is his first mature, more (only slightly more) adult-oriented story. Kudos to Miyazaki for holding on to his youth for 72 years.

While all this is true, it is most certainly still a Miyazaki film. The heart of the story involves drawing on courage and determination to reach one's dream. The dreams of Jiro serve as the fantasy world in this film, and that is where he meets with his own imagined mentor, Caproni, based on a real-life Italian aeronautical engineer. Often lost in his imagination while designing aircraft, Jiro uses the dream space to test out his designs and work towards his goal of creating his masterpiece. As the narration switches from plot development to Jiro's imagination we often see an aircraft flying fantastically, only to end in it's destruction as a design's weakness becomes apparent in the imagined test flight in his mind. It makes a good case for the role of visualization in the creative process. Jiro is introduced first as a boy and Caproni, never aging in the imagination sequences, continues to call Jiro "Japanese boy" as he grows into manhood. So in reality, it is just another film film about the dreams of a youthful character.

Beyond the thematic consistencies with his other movies, The Wind Rises is most certainly a Miyazaki film in so many other aspects. Visually, aurally, musically, it is a continuation of the development of his style as well as the team of great people at Studio Ghibli. The earthquake sequence is unique and impressive. Moving landscapes seen from trains and planes are stunning. Simple shots of someone looking out a window are so often more interesting than a simple straight shot. In a brilliant touch, the sound effects often employ a chorus of human voices to characterize non-human things--like the earthquake or engines and other mechanics--rather than finding a more realistic sound. And as always in Miyazaki's films, the music, including the final song, provide the emotional heart of the story. I'm so easily manipulated by great music. Joe Hisaishi, a regular for Studio Ghibli, holds that credit for this movie.

Designers Honjo and Jiro at work
There are so many points of symbolism and themes that can be explored here: creativity, age, love, death, war. Some great questions to think about while watching include, "What does the wind represent?, "At what points in the story does Jiro turn to his spiritual mentor Caproni for guidance?", and "Why are their mouths so big when they talk?." I know I can get overly earnest thinking about how things "poignantly reflect the transient nature of life." But I would like to delve into one of the points made fairly explicitly, and that is the question of limited capacity for artists to be creative.

In the film, Jiro's best friend and fellow-engineer Honjo makes ironic reflections saying things like, "You need a family at home to motivate you to work harder at the office," as a reason for his getting married, or that even though Japan is a poor country they are spending so much money to make airplanes. He calls them hypocrisies. Caproni, Jiro's spiritual guide, is also pointing out these ironies but his attitude is different, more tolerant and serendipitously flippant about these observations, accepting and then forgetting them as a part of life. In these scenes between Jiro and Caproni Miyazaki appears to be having a conversation between two different versions of himself: young and old, up-and-comer and retiring-legend. Caproni proclaims to Jiro that the young have 10 years of artistic creativity before the well runs dry; he urges Jiro to use his to the fullest. Caproni then takes Jiro on a joy ride on a new plane he's designed and points out it is his last flight. One can't but help to think this is Miyazaki's pre-emptory announcement following this film's completion that it would be his last. Although he's said this and come back before - this time it seems like he means it. At 74 and with such a breadth of work under his belt you can't deny he deserves it.

Jiro shows Caproni his as-yet-unrealized master design
But I can't help but find fault with Miyazaki for his thesis on the capacity for creativity, especially the time limit and the focus on youth. I've said it before: the best artists do (and any artist can) improve with age and experience. This film of Miyazaki's is a clear case study of the principle. Perhaps his earlier works do reflect more daring and drastic innovation, so that Nausicaa and the Valley of the Winds sets up a world that makes Howl's Moving Castle less surprising (although no less vibrant and mesmerizing). But the fine-tuned, nuanced, and deeply-moving nature of his later work speaks for itself. If Miyazaki took his own 10-year thesis seriously, neither myself nor many other fans of his work here in the US would be enjoying his films today, nor would they ever have.

The cross-cultural success of Miyazaki's films is undisputed, but it was Princess Mononoke in 1997, and then especially Spirited Away in 2001 (which took home the first Oscar for Best Animated Film) that sparked the raving adoration of his work seen today in the US, including the developing of the distribution deal with Disney which delivers his work to US audiences in a very thoughtful and respectful manner. These films were well into his third decade of work. While youth certainly is an artistic force with power to burst through the seams of the past, breaking molds, rebelling, and presenting raw innovation, it is a myth to think that all artists' ability to create truly great work is limited to a small frame of time in the earlier eras of a person's life. Holding on to this idea is the only real limiting fact that exists.


Still, the "10 years" idea does make me think. After watching the press conference with Miyazaki this idea is clarified a little bit. Miyazaki says that for many people there is a period of intense trial, productivity, and focus that can be life-defining. Thoughts like that really scare me. It makes me question whether I've had my ten years, whether they are yet to come, whether I'll realize it, and whether I'll take advantage of the opportunity they present. This a real fear for me, but one I'm glad The Wind Rises has brought to mind again.

In checking out other reviews of The Wind Rises I was surprised to learn its reception was much cooler than many of Miyazaki's other recent films. It is not full of fantastical beings created from an amalgam of cultural reference points and autobiographical anecdotes, all wrapped up in a fantasy, as with some of Miyazaki's other works. It doesn't deliver the story in as similar a way as his other movies. But what The Wind Rises does provide is an atmosphere as equally effective, if not more so, than any of his other films, and using a story, combined with imaginative characters easy to empathize with, that get at the heart of what it means to fly, to dream, to love, and to live. Despite the infinite possibilities for innovation that the medium of film offers, this is really it's most desired and most important result.

"The wind rises. We must try to live."