Monday, July 20, 2020

2020 Muriels Hall of Fame inductees: L'Avventura (1960, Michelangelo Antonioni)

“Michelangelo Antonioni's L'Avventura, simply put, is one of the most influential films ever made. Along with Jean Luc-Godard's Breathless, it helped usher cinema into modernism. It came out in 1960 a few months before Psycho. Like the Hitchcock, a woman opens the film and is established as the apparent lead before disappearing from the narrative altogether early on. The film sets this up as a mystery to be solved, but radically, Antonioni leaves it unanswered; instead, turning his attention to the affair that springs between her lover Sandro (Gabriele Ferzetti) and her best friend Claudia (Monica Vitti).

“L'Avventura was startlingly new when it made its debut at the 1960 Cannes Film Festival where the audience reaction was largely one of derision. But critics acclaimed it as an instant classic and in the 1962 Sight & Sound poll, it ranked behind only Citizen Kane among the best films ever made. Its impact has been so immersed in film language though that today, L'Avventura's innovation doesn't stand out so much even as it remains an indubitable achievement in film form.

“Antonioni's subject in L'Avventura is the decadent idle rich. Claudia may be the most sympathetic among them, and while Monica Vitti has great screen presence, none of the characters are particularly likeable. They are self-righteously privileged and morally vacuous. Claudia and Sandro only meet 3 days before Anna (Lea Massari) disappears during a trip to the Aeolian Islands and Sandro makes advances on Claudia almost right after his lover goes missing. Claudia resists at first, but they encounter infidelity everywhere and that resistance is fleeting.

“Instead of narrative or commiserative characters, Antonioni captivates through film form: composition/camera placement, extensive use of deep focus photography playing with foreground and background, imaginative blocking of the characters, and most of all, the usage of space, mostly to indicate the emptiness of these lives despite all the beauty around them. There are so many shots of lone figures dwarfed by their surrounding landscapes. The great scenes or shots come one after another - Claudia waking in the morning to a beautiful sunrise, she and Sandro talking with a stunning cloudscape behind them, Claudia delighted with the communication from other church bells, Sandro casually ruining the art of a young man in an act of wanton cruelty, Claudia pacing her room and making faces in the mirror when she is unable to sleep, and Claudia's run down the vast empty hall of the San Domenico Palace Hotel.

"Easily the best of the trilogy of existential ennui that Antonioni made with La Notte and L'Eclisse, L'Avventura pushed formalism to the foreground while narrative receded to the background. Earlier filmmakers like F.W. Murnau and Josef Von Sternberg with their striking sense of composition, camera movement, and indulgence with space and time presaged Antonioni and soon after L'Avventura, films like Last Year at Marienbad and Antonioni's own Red Desert would take this style much further. L'Avventura though was the lynchpin and its influence can also be seen from Theo Angelopoulos, Bela Tarr, and Hou Hsiao-Hsien to Kelly Reichardt, Jia Zhangke, and Andrei Zvyagintsev today.” ~ George Wu

2020 Muriels Hall of Fame inductees: The Wild Bunch (1969, Sam Peckinpah)

“Westerns, a staple since the early days of cinema, were still important in 1969. Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid was the year’s highest grossing movie. True Grit won John Wayne an Oscar. But the world was changing rapidly, and many filmmakers were eager to move beyond simple games of cowboys and Indians, approaching the time-honored tradition with new approaches and perspectives. One notable example: Sam Peckinpah with The Wild Bunch.

“Maybe egged on by the envelope-pushing violence of Bonnie and Clyde, the stylish reinvention of the genre in Italy, disgust with the war in Vietnam, hunger to overcome recent professional failures, or some combination of those things, he made a film that was revisionist in both form and content. It was technically groundbreaking, experimenting with new lenses, filming speeds, editing techniques and even gun sounds. But since Peckinpah chose not to sanitize the gore and death of the west, many were too revolted by the bloody, high casualty shootouts to celebrate his masterful craftsmanship.

“Which was, of course, the point. The film unmasks Hollywood cliches of heroism with its regretful gunman protagonist and a tone that frequently shifts from thrilling to melancholic. Starting with the opening scene, where children gleefully feed a live scorpion to a mob of ants, Peckinpah takes aim at the brutality of humankind. Innocent bystanders, including a tuba player from the South Texas Temperance Union parade, are shot dead in the streets, caught in a greedy war between a railroad company and our team of outlaw protagonists. There are always children nearby, playing guns, riding alongside a general, smiling at the bandits’ jokes about whores, or being breastfed beneath a bandolier.

“It’s a portrait of human ugliness that hits you in the gut. Yet its band of reprobate anti-heroes manages to find some manner of honor in this world when they agree to risk it all for a friend they left behind. Somehow Peckinpah was able to cut open the western, pull out its guts, and still make a classic of the form.” ~ Vern

2020 Muriels Hall of Fame: Welcome!

Hey everybody! Welcome to the (counts fingers) eighth year of Muriels Hall of Fame inductions!

I had hoped to unveil this year’s inductees last week, but due to some tech problems I had to postpone the announcements. It’s boring – no reason to go into details.

Anyway, I’ll be posting three times every evening this coming week, at 7 PM, 8 PM, and 9 PM, until we’ve announced all the nominees. But before we get into that, I’d like to send out a warm thank-you to this year’s voters!

Josh Bell
Andrew Bemis
Christianne Benedict
Scott W. Black
Kevin Cecil
Paul Clark
Dennis Cozzalio
Phil Dyess-Nugent
Steven Erickson
James Frazier
Kenji Fujishima
Caden Mark Gardner
Sean Gilman
Luke Gorham
Odie Henderson
Jenna Ipcar
Daniel Cook Johnson
Sam Juliano
Craig D. Lindsey
Matt Lynch
Wendy Mays
Jeff McMahon
Patrick J. Miller
Matt Noller
Jason Shawhan
Melissa Starker
Ryan Swen
Scout Tafoya
Melissa Tamminga
Ian Scott Todd
Hedwig van Driel
Vern
Clayton Walter
Brian Wilson
George Wu

Stay tuned all week for this year’s Muriels Hall of Fame announcements!

Monday, March 2, 2020

2019 Muriel Awards: Thank you!

Well, that’s a wrap for this year’s Muriel Awards, theydies and gentlethem! Thanks to everyone who participated this year:

Josh Bell
Andrew Bemis
Christianne Benedict
Scott W. Black
Sean Burns
Kevin Cecil
Paul Clark
Dennis Cozzalio
Andrew Dignan
Kevin Dufresne
Philip Dyess-Nugent
Steven Erickson
Molly Faust
James Frazier
Kenji Fujishima
Caden Mark Gardner
Sean Gilman
Luke Gorham
Jaime Grijalba
Russell Hainline
Glenn Heath Jr.
Odie Henderson
Jenna Ipcar
Daniel Cook Johnson
Sam Juliano
Donna Kozloskie
Adam Lemke
Craig D. Lindsey
Matt Lynch
Sam C. Mac
Wendy Mays
Jeff McMahon
Patrick J. Miller
Matt Noller
Rob Patrick
Jason Shawhan
Melissa Starker
Ryan Swen
Scout Tafoya
Melissa Tamminga
Ian Scott Todd
Hedwig van Driel
Vern
Scott von Doviak
Clayton Walter
Bryan Whitefield
Brian Wilson
George Wu

See you all this summer for the Muriels Hall of Fame!

2010s Best Films of the Decade - #1


Justine Smith: “Why can’t all films be like Mad Max: Fury Road? Watching the trailers for Mad Max before it premiered, my blood pressure rose and my breath quickened. I didn’t want this to happen - experience had taught me the movie never lived up to the trailer: I was setting myself up for disappointment. But I was wrong. Mad Max delivered, and in doing so revealed that the blockbusters that I had given a pass to were not living up to their expectations, they were not delivering on their promises: we had been fooled for far too long to accept that our popular cinema was going to be mediocre at best. The straightforward way Mad Max tackles narrative and character, stripping it down to bare essentials and offering dynamic symbology was a distant memory in popular cinema. When was the last time a big budget movie wasn’t a bloated mess of fan service and convoluted story? I had forgotten it was possible for Hollywood cinema could be this good, this simple.

“Mad Max: Fury Road represents a strong vision of a dark future. Without resorting to cheap cynicism, it offers a troubling vision of a not-so-distant dystopia where environmental abuses have stripped the earth of life. Humanity has hung on by a thread, embracing water and mechanics as their new God. In an epic chase for freedom, Imperator Furiosa (Charlize Theron) tries to set free the wives of a terrifying warlord, chasing towards a remembered greenland where women reign. With a constant forward momentum, the movie drifts left to right on screen with the epicness of a classical painting. The richness of detail and strength of desperation adding levels of nuance to the deceptively simple narrative trajectory.

“Without question, Mad Max is a rare blockbuster that will pass the test of time removed from nostalgia. It is a great film that inspires tremendous emotion and doesn’t undervalue the power of great ideas.”

Andrew Bemis: ‘The straightforward way Mad Max tackles narrative and character, stripping it down to bare essentials and offering dynamic symbology was a distant memory in popular cinema.’ I want to pass this on to everyone who dismisses Fury Road as a fun action movie with no real substance, when it's actually as much a triumph of sophisticated, economical storytelling as it is on a technical level. But George Miller's approach to advancing the narrative, the characters' arcs and the story's subtext (well, text, really) is so purely visual that it doesn't always register to viewers who are used to being told, rather than shown, what a movie is about. Not that there aren't plenty of wonderful dialogue-driven movies, but Miller's approach has more in common with silent cinema than other contemporary blockbusters. A simple image like a character who realizes that she's about to die protectively clutching a bag of seeds is more powerful than a lengthy monologue about the plight of our environment could have been. The movie works as brilliantly as it does because of Miller's extraordinary trust in images and gestures (big and small) to tell a story (it helps, of course, that he has impeccable taste).

“Fury Road also makes most other blockbusters look puny on a purely aesthetic level. In a movie filled with exhilarating images, one of my favorites is towards the beginning, when Max is trying to escape his captors. It's a dark, chaotic sequence that suddenly gives way to blinding light and silence as we get our first look at Immortal Joe's Citadel. It's a moment that has the same kind of power as Dorothy opening her front door and stepping into Oz. Mad Max has many moments like this, reminding that, though blockbusters offer plenty of loud spectacle, few even bother with trying to manipulate scale, perspective, light, sound or any of the other basic tools at their disposal to create a genuine sense of awe. For a movie that uses every state-of-the-art filmmaking tool at its disposal, Fury Road is surprisingly classical in its approach to visual storytelling.”

Justine: “One of the blessings of people appreciating Fury Road is that it has really cast George Miller’s entire filmography into light, and the fact is, he has always been an economic and dynamic filmmaker. From Mad Max to Happy Feet, dialogue is sparse and used with a lot of intention. I agree, there is a lot of trust in how he treats the image. This shows not only a confidence in his own abilities, but a confidence in the audience’s abilities to understand what he’s trying to do. One of the problems with modern blockbusters is that they aim for such wide universality that they lose their personality and nuance. Films like The Avengers need to be understood in equal measure by a New Yorker and someone over in China. As a result the importance of following story and focusing on subtext gets left aside, it’s too much of a risk that the audience doesn’t understand.

“I like your comparison to The Wizard of Oz, a personal favourite of mine. As a child I’d watch it almost daily, getting lost in that world. While Mad Max may not be a ‘children’s film,’ the way it uses images and sounds to guide forward the story has a purity that could be easily understood by a child. This is why the oversimplification of Blockbusters is so frustrating, there is an easier route that doesn’t compromise story or character - Miller has proved that. Popular cinema has a way of bringing the audience on a journey. Movies like Star Wars, Jurassic Park and Mad Max have a way of inspiring the imagination and transporting us to a new and fantastic world. Mad Max has a darker bent, hidden beneath the thunderous music and fantastic universe is a dark story about oppression and personal responsibility. Mad Max was always a film about humanity’s ability to cast aside responsibility and watch the world fade to desert rather than try to fix it.

Andrew: I’m glad you brought up Happy Feet – those movies were in constant rotation on our TV when my kids were younger, and I thought I’d never want to see or think about them again. But about halfway through seeing Mad Max, I realized that it’d actually make a perfect double feature with Happy Feet Two. I don’t expect many of our readers to remember Happy Feet Two or have a strong opinion about it, but they’re basically the same movie. Also, I’m hoping Miller’s renewed popularity might inspire people to give The Witches of Eastwick, one of the first ‘grown up’ movies I loved as a kid, another look. It’s not as personal as the rest of Miller’s movies, but its ridicule of toxic masculinity points the way towards Mad Max’s full-blown assault on the patriarchy.

“As I write that, I can anticipate some readers rolling their eyes – after all, Mad Max is a car picture, not a nuanced dissection of gender roles. Its message is an all-caps cry that is literally written on a wall in the movie: ‘WHO KILLED THE WORLD?’ Men have poisoned the earth and doomed humanity, and the promise of women taking over is our only hope. It’s definitely not subtle, but it shouldn’t be. As a person who, in his most anxious moments, Googles phrases like ‘global warming worst case scenario’ late at night, Mad Max speaks to me and, oddly enough, it’s ultimately reassuring. As dark as it gets, it’s the rare post-apocalyptic movie that isn’t nihilistic. Though Miller’s vision of the future is one where much of what has been broken can’t be fixed, as long as there are people willing to work together, there’s still hope.” ~ Justine Smith and Andrew Bemis (originally posted March 6, 2016)

Note: Mad Max: Fury Road ranked #1 in the 2015 Muriel Awards.

Muriel’s Top 25 films of the 2010s
1. Mad Max: Fury Road (2015, George Miller) [250/16]
2. The Tree of Life (2011, Terrence Malick) [202/12]
3. Parasite (2019, Bong Joon-ho) [176/13]
4. The Master (2012, Paul Thomas Anderson) [162/11]
5. The Social Network (2010, David Fincher) [158/11]
6. Inside Llewyn Davis (2013, Joel and Ethan Coen) [155/13]
7. Moonlight (2016, Barry Jenkins) [143/10]
8. Under the Skin (2013, Jonathan Glazer) [133/11]
9. Carol (2015, Todd Haynes) [130/9]
10. Margaret (2011, Kenneth Lonergan) [125/9]
11. Holy Motors (2012, Léos Carax) [124/8]
12. Phantom Thread (2017, Paul Thomas Anderson) [119/8]
13. The Wolf of Wall Street (2013, Martin Scorsese) [116/10]
14. Certified Copy (2010, Abbas Kiarostami) [116/8]
15. Get Out (2017, Jordan Peele) [110/9]
16. The Act of Killing (2012, Joshua Oppenheimer & Cynthia Cynn and [anonymous]) [110/16]
17. Meek’s Cutoff (2010, Kelly Reichardt) [94/7]
18. Inherent Vice (2014, Paul Thomas Anderson) [87/6]
19. Roma (2018, Alfonso Cuaron) [81/6]
20 (tie). A Separation (2011, Asghar Farhadi) [77/6]
20 (tie). Boyhood (2014, Richard Linklater) [77/6]
22 (tie). Before Midnight (2013, Richard Linklater) [76/5]
22 (tie). The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014, Wes Anderson) [76/5]
24. Once Upon a Time in Hollywood (2019, Quentin Tarantino) [74/6]
25. Paterson (2016, Jim Jarmusch) [71/5]

Italics denote winners of the Golden Muriel for Best Picture.

2010s Best Films of the Decade - #2


"When you watch The Tree of Life, you’re seeing a vision of a family’s life experienced with an other-wordly, unfathomable sense of perspective. Writer/director Terrence Malick’s latest film is elusive, engrossing and just all-around big. There are discernible leitmotifs that run through the film, like the intrusion of chaos into order, the gentle realization that form does not always conform to essence, and the fleeting presence of radiant, context-free hopefulness.

“But the sense of spirituality that characterizes The Tree of Life is nothing if not pantheistic and all-accommodating. It’s an open container of meaning, which is partly why the film a minor cultural rift when it was first released last year. Some dismissed The Tree of Life by saying it was loaded with pretentious assumptions, specifically accusing of him of assuming the position of God in his film. Others said that the film’s vision of faith was too simplistic and that the film just regurgitates/reinforces Judeo-Christian imagery. So many of the film's most staunch defenders foolishly tried to combat this short-sighted criticism, but defending The Tree of Life against such claims is patently unnecessary: the complexities inherent in Malick’s film are defense enough.

“For example, in the opening image of the diametrically-opposed ways of grace and nature, Malick sets up and then exponentially complicates the notion that lived spirituality is inseparable from idealized faith. The two states of mind are opposite sides of the same state. The film’s protagonists are thus not totally in control of their memories, nor are they totally passive participants in the film’s dream-like reverie of past events. The Tree of Life presents the past as it might have been, not as it objectively occurred. We see events through the eyes of man-made Gods, the mother and father (Jessica Chastain and Brad Pitt) of two children. One boy is dead while the other boy, now a man, wonders when it was that he first believed in God. And he seeks Him out again. And so does his mother.

“So, when one of the two boys asks, ‘Where do you live?’ he’s living the answer: in memories, in the past, in the design that unites the two and in dreams of simplicity and twilit beauty. God is fallible because he is us but He also exists outside of us. According to the film, the fact that we cannot always be united is what alternately motivates us towards and pulls us away from our faith. There is both great faith in doubt and in the presence of God in Malick’s latest masterpiece. It’s alternately a mirror of actively evolving ideas of the past and a flood of emotions that create its own order out of the inherently chaotic. Wow." ~ Simon Abrams (originally posted March 4, 2012)

Note: The Tree of Life ranked #1 in the 2011 Muriel Awards.

2010s Best Films of the Decade - #3


“Parasite doesn’t exactly redefine the concept of the upstairs-downstairs satire so much as it infuses it with a dark-hued clarity about class structure, and it refuses to condemn anyone involved in navigating the implacable two-way system of social mobility it so pitilessly portrays, even if several of the key navigators might not be left standing by the film’s final fade. Bong Joon-ho’s previous, and horizontally oriented, Snowpiercer grappled with similar notions of imposed privilege and struggle, depicting an oppressed class’s attempts to move forward and depose the tyrannical political system keeping them at bay on a futuristic train hurtling through a forbidding, iced-over landscape, but with a far heavier touch. As Parasite’s Kim Ki-woo, the young man whose family occupies the charred heart of Bong’s unforgiving worldview, might say, that’s so metaphorical!

“Eschewing Snowpiercer’s more linear ham-handedness, Bong conjures this new film, which posits a social purgatory up from which the Kim family desperately (and literally) has to climb in concocting a scheme for survival which will prove to be both understandable and fatally flawed, with insouciance and acid purpose. Parasite’s protagonists, the denizens of a partially submerged basement apartment whose windows look directly out into the gutters of a crowded and filthy urban street, are looking for any way to survive. They stumble upon a way to insinuate themselves into a home of the Parks, a super-rich family residing in the hills, where Bong’s social critique is allowed to develop the real, sharp teeth laying in patient wait behind the good-natured smile of its opening third. There may be several moments during Parasite when Ki-woo’s astonished observation may be just as apt, but the movie’s built-in auto-critique defuses the relative obviousness of Bong’s dramatic strategies by serving them up with healthy doses of empathy and humor. By the point when the wealthy Park family takes off for a weekend camping trip, leaving the run of their spacious and modern mansion to the Kims, you can practically taste the glee with which Bong has taken to ensure that the hooks are in his audience, who will likely have no idea of the depths to which his demonically entertaining film is about to plunge them.

“2019 was widely considered to be a very good, very diverse year for movies, and even with all those great films to talk about, it still became the year of Parasite. Somehow, amongst strong, heavily praised work from Martin Scorsese, Terence Malick, Quentin Tarantino and a host of other celebrated directors, Bong Joon-ho’s film managed to secure close to a consensus among the most opinionated observers of film as the clear choice for the year’s best. The most award-averse among us would have never been able to predict it, even as Parasite emerged as a triumphant Palme D’Or winner from last year’s Cannes Film Festival, but one still has to wonder with delight just how Oscar managed to get it so right this year. You might have to go all the way back to 2007 and the decisive win of the Coen Brothers’ No Country for Old Men to come up with a more unlikely, more existentially despairing, and more completely right choice for the Academy Award for Best Picture of the Year, despite what our orange-colored Film Critic in Chief thinks. (‘How bad were the Academy Awards this year? Did you see it?’ Trump recently asked a jeering crowd at one of his rallies. ‘And the winner is… a movie from South Korea! What the hell was that all about? We got enough problems with South Korea with trade. On top of it, they give him best movie of the year? Was it good? I don’t know.’)

“But Trump’s cynical derision might inadvertently be more reflective of Bong’s point than 45 could ever understand. Fittingly, a movie about corrosive social division, division which stands as the norm in which all of us, rich and poor, might seem hopelessly mired, has become a massive worldwide hit at the same time those very same divisions are being sown for political and financial profit by bureaucratic hacks and the dangerous demagogues they empower. Who’s playing whom?

“Parasite ends on a note of desperate fantasy, detailing the musings of a young man who can only concoct elaborate projections of his own ultimate wealth and economic rescue conjured to assuage the guilt he feels over his family’s devastation and the cloistered imprisonment of his father. And that young man cannot sustain believe in those fantasies for more than a moment at a time before sinking back down into the cruel subterranean misery where we first saw him at the beginning of the film. The final descent of the camera which concludes Parasite, in what might be a prelude to genuine madness, is a cold slap of reality, what Bong Joon-ho has described as ‘a sure-fire kill,’ even as it displays the razor-sharp instincts of a born storyteller employed to send an audience back into the world exhilarated, on a melancholic contact high from 135-minutes proximity to absolute filmmaking mastery. When I jotted down my thoughts about the movie after seeing Parasite for the first time, the notion that it might be, on its own terms, a perfect movie occurred to me more than once. Five months, three screenings, and four Academy Awards later, nothing much has made me think to change my mind. It’s a sure-fire kill in just about every way.” ~ Dennis Cozzalio

Note: Parasite ranked #1 in the 2019 Muriel Awards.