Half-Assed Movie Reviews

March 7, 2010:  Which Way Home

Another Oscar nominee for the Best Documentary Feature, Which Way Home follows a number of Central American and Mexican children who ride trains north to sneak into the USA.  Some are doing so with the blessing of their parents who want them to have a chance at a dream life in America, but many more have left without permission, leaving their parents in a state of terror over what may happen on the long road to freedom.

I was able to view this film, or at least most of it, online at the CBC website.  I say most of it, because this is a version of the film which was shortened by about 20 minutes for television broadcast.  However, beggars can’t be choosers when trying to view films in time for the Oscars, and I certainly think I got the gist of what was going on.

It is absolutely staggering how many people are attempting this voyage.  Over 100,000 children each year try to sneak across the border this way, and the chances of making it are miniscule, and the kids aren’t even home free once they make it to the US unless they have a good support system already in place – for example, relatives who are living there.  Mexican freight trains are strictly off-limits to stowaway passengers, and yet they blast through the countryside with hundreds of people literally hanging off of them, and many more living on the roofs for days at a time.  Officials in various countries and at various stops clear the people off the trains, and of course there’s the final run through the wild back country near the border, where countless kids get lost or are caught or die of thirst in the desert.

On top of all that, there are the usual cottage industries set up to exploit those making the trip, including most tragically the smugglers who promise passage but sometimes abuse or abandon the kids.  These are children typically ranging from 7 to 12 years in age.  Fortunately, some people accept the fact that this happens and provide safe temporary shelter and food and water for the kids when they are at major stations waiting for the next scheduled freight train out of there.  It’s a haunting reminder that while we should work to treat the cause of such societal problems, it would be heartless not to treat some of the symptoms in the meantime.

It’s a shame that life in the US is held up as such an idyllic dream by so many who make the journey to try and get into the country illegally.  Plentiful interview footage with the children indicates that they’ve been taught to expect a life of plenty there, but when it comes down to details, they haven’t even really thought about it.  This short-sighted and extremely dangerous journey is taken by a heartbreaking number of children each year, with no end in sight.

Overwhelming in its depiction of hopelessness.

March 6, 2010:  La Teta Asustada (The Milk of Sorrow)

I don’t even know where to start with this one.  A slow and deliberate slice of life in a strange little village in Peru, La Teta Asustada was fascinating but at the same time baffling.  I need to be careful in explaining the plot, such as it is, to preserve other viewers’ experience of discovering the film’s strange sequence of events.

A young woman, born during a time of terrorism in her country, is said to have taken in the fear and sorrow of those times through her mother’s milk, hence the title.  Her mother has just died and she lives with her uncle.  The disputes about how to deal with her mother’s remains, and how to deal with physical ailments she has had since her youth, preoccupy the extended family over a period of time during which the woman goes out to get a job as a housekeeper for a wealthy family.  She sings improvised songs all the time, which capture her feelings at any given time and relate to her sorrows.

As I say, the film is a quiet but fascinating and gripping journey, rewarding as an examination of deep-rooted pain and with the earlier unrest in Peru always hovering in the background as the true-life horror which fuels this emotional journey.  To say much more would be to deprive a new viewer of a film viewing experience curiously unlike most others.  Nominated for the Oscar for Best Foreign-Language film, La Teta Asustada did not win but is worth a look.

Leaving North America can be rewarding.

March 4, 2010:  Logorama

Wow.  Just wow.  Logorama, the final entry I saw in the list of Oscar-nominated animated short films for 2009, won the award and absolutely deserved it, although I’m surprised that it won, considering the sensitive subject matter.  A 16-minute film from France, it is densely-packed every second of the way with amazing visuals which really need to be seen on the big screen, and I’m glad I got this opportunity.  The film was preceded in the theatre by a title card warning of extreme violence and profanity, and it certainly delivered.

Logorama depicts a cartoonish Los Angeles which is drawn almost entirely in corporate logos.  Every building displays or is constructed from a corporate brand logo, every vehicle is sponsored, every moving thing is in a recognizable shape and even half of the people are famous commercial mascots such as the Pringles chips guys and Ronald McDonald and the Michelin man.  Even at this point, setting the stage for the action, it really has to be seen to be believed and I’m not doing it justice with these words.

And then it gets crazy.  A shooting rampage and a police chase erupt through the city, with blood and gore and unthinkable violence and foul language spouting from cleanly drawn and extremely familiar faces, names and mascots.  An earthquake causes further chaos, profanity and subject-appropriate logos to spew forth, as Los Angeles breaks off and falls into the ocean.  A final extreme zoom-out throws dozens of space-related logos our way in the space of a mere few seconds, and we’re left wondering just what the hell happened here.

As a viewing experience, Logorama is a breathtaking roller-coaster ride, and even better if you’re in a venue in which you can see the depth of detail and care that went into the design.  As a statement and a quote-unquote “movie” it struck me as inconclusive, and I won’t go into any great analysis although it’s quite possible that the point was missed.  It doesn’t seem to be trying to tell us that all this corporate sponsorship is necessarily a bad thing.  Sure, that’s a fair interpretation when L.A, the epicentre of shallowness, falls into the sea, but I don’t think that statement is overt and it’s certainly not the only interpretation one can take.  What’s more fascinating than all of that, in my mind, is the balls it takes to put together and release something like this, in today’s over-litigious society.  That may be why the film comes out of France, since an American film of this nature would be buried in nuisance lawsuits within days, and possibly not without reason.  Fair use and satire are reasonably well-established if still contested areas in US law, and it seems to me that for some of these brands, the action goes beyond satire to besmirching of the brands and characters themselves.  Time will tell whether anything comes of it – there has been online discussion of the legal issues possibly faced by the film, but it seems that the likely outcomes of such action are not clear, based on existing case law.  It should be fun to watch.

Take a look at this one.  Logorama is an original and bold statement, taking real chances and bringing us a real experience.

Corporate shill or brazen anti-commercial statement?

March 4, 2010:  Runaway

Watching the packaged up Oscar-nominated animated short films for 2009 in the theatre, I had wondered whether they would stretch to feature length.  Well, it turns out that they don’t, so some filler was added.  I was confused at the point when this film started, because I knew I had seen 4 of the 5 nominated films (yes, I was counting), and now some other movie I had never heard of was starting.  I quickly realized that Runaway was just filling time, and I was confused because I couldn’t yet be expected to understand why the final Oscar nominee was saved for last.

Runaway is a 9-minute Canadian film, which depicts a train hitting a cow on some train tracks and losing control, triggering all manner of troubles on the train, even as the posh first-class passengers continue to eat and drink and play billiards.  The extreme hills and valleys of the terrain match the swoops and circles of people’s stylized faces, making for a surreal and very specific look.

The problem is that this film isn’t very innovative.  The story progression is funny enough but it’s pretty simple, and we’ve seen the same thing before, particularly from Canadian animators, for decades.  If this wasn’t a Canadian presentation of the Oscar-nominated animated films, I doubt that Runaway would have been included.

Don’t bother yourself with this one.

March 4, 2010:  Wallace and Gromit in “A Matter of Loaf and Death”

This 30-minute UK short film, the latest in the ongoing saga of the claymation duo Wallace and Gromit which includes a feature film and several short films dating back over 20 years, seemed to be presented as the centrepiece of the package of Oscar-nominated animated short films I viewed in the theatre during the week before this year’s Oscar show.  And for good reason.  Three of the previous short films have won Oscars, as well as the feature from 2005.  People love Wallace and Gromit, and Nick Park’s unique artistry is the reason.

Every time we encounter these two characters, an odd British fellow and his dog, we get additional insight into the daily life of these two, who are both technological wizards and gadget-freaks.  The implication is that the dog (Gromit) is the brains behind the operation, although Wallace certainly has a hand in coming up with some of their grand ideas.  This intimate portrait of family life, upon which is usually suspended the most ridiculous possible plotline of criminal intrigue, is why the characters have remained so popular for so long.  Character development seems minimal but at the same time we somehow get to know them in a different way each time.

In this case, Wallace and Gromit now operate a bakery, assisted by some complicated automated systems in their home-based operation.  It just so happens that someone seems to be murdering local bakers, and Gromit gets panicky and tries to figure out who it could be.  Throw in a comical romance between Wallace and a fellow baked-goods celebrity who also has a pet dog with whom Gromit must wrangle, and we’ve got the material for 30 minutes of goofiness.

I won’t spoil much more of the plot since there is actually a decent chance that a typical movie fan might come across this film.  The usual expressive clay faces abound, and of course Gromit saves the day.  This is absolutely as much of a must-see as any of their previous outings, so I leave it to the reader to track down a copy and view it.  It didn’t win the Oscar this time, though that’s a story for another day.

Wallace and Gromit impress yet again.