For those of you who have practiced such discipline and have restrained from listening to holiday music before Thanksgiving, congratulations! (I can’t say I’ve been as strong…darn that Vince Guaraldi). Once the feasting has subsided this Thursday, it is officially appropriate to rock out to festive music! And what could be more fun than ringing in the holiday spirit than with a sing-a-long of the beloved holiday movie, White Christmas?
The 1954 classic film, featuring Bing Crosby and Danny Kaye, tells the story of two war buddies turned entertainers who fall for a pair of sisters (Rosemary Clooney and Vera Ellen). The boys follow the girls to a resort, conveniently owned by their former commanding officer. But the resort is in jeopardy of getting shut down. What better excuse to stage a show than to help save the resort?
Whiplash (2014) was a difficult movie to watch. I find myself hoping that this world driven by high-level stress, intimidation, and discrimination would never exist. The cast and crew did some serious work in illustrating this level of frustration and unpredictability.
The movie features a story of a young and aspiring jazz drummer at a fictional prestigious conservatory called Shaeffer Conservatory, who interacts a private teacher that tries to make his life as a drummer extremely difficult. The two become involved in a very strange relationship tied with the desire for success and the obsession with music-making. The movie stars Miles Teller as Andrew Neyman, the drummer; and J.K. Simmons as Terence Fletcher, the terrifying teacher.
Terence Fletcher, the director of the topmost band at the prestigious Shaeffer Conservatory in New York City, is a mysterious character. We never know what he could actually be thinking. He yells a lot, but sometimes he can be affirming, too. He occasionally smiles or even shows tears, but those emotions feel fake because of horrid actions he takes to “get the most out of the musicians.” It was terrifying to see. Fletcher used multiple homophobic, sexist, racist, ageist, and demeaning comments in general to his band members, exercising power harassment. And to think the next Charlie Parker can, or has to, survive all of these oppressions to get to the top, to build thicker skins? I’m glad I’m not at Shaeffer.
This movie also shows how male-dominated the jazz world is. There were exactly two female players in the entire movie. Just two, out of dozens. One was in the lower-level jazz combo, and she messes up her solo quite more than her male counterparts when Fletcher comes to observe. Another was not given much airtime. Is this really how females are regarded? If the directors like Fletcher actually exist, there is no way female players can thrive — with no regard to their ability as a player. It’s one thing to be extremely strict and unyielding; it’s another to be discriminatory and threatening.
The terrible leadership of Fletcher is not to say the well-written plot and stellar acting should go uncredited. I felt like I was on a roller coaster all the way; I could never expect how a scene would turn out, and it was thrilling. Miles Teller acted out the agony of wanting to become the best and please Fletcher so realistically; J.K. Simmons fit into the role of stubborn and unpredictable director perfectly. Not to mention, the music they played were high quality — living up to the name of the nation’s top conservatory. The amount of cursing and violence was a little out of my taste, but I guess that’s why the movie is rated R.
In a nutshell, Whiplash is a movie worth watching — but not for everyone. The scenes can get pretty graphic with blood, violence, and verbal abuse. You don’t have to be a music student to appreciate this movie, either, because this movie is more about life than about music. If you have some free time before you feast on those Thanksgiving dinners, check it out at the State Theater.
Whiplash (2014) features a story of a young and aspiring jazz drummer at a prestigious conservatory, who interacts a private teacher that tries to stop him from his success as a drummer. The two become involved in a very strange relationship tied with the desire for success and the obsession with music-making. The movie stars Miles Teller as Andrew Neyman, the drummer; and J.K. Simmons as Terence Fletcher, the terrifying teacher. This movie has received high ratings on IMDB (8.6) and Rotten Tomatoes (96%). If you are musical, artistic, passionate, and/or curious about what goes on in the music industry, you would find this film interesting!
Check the State Theater website for showtimes. In addition to these showtimes, there is a mobility-impaired accessible showing at the Michigan Theater at 7:30pm on Thursday, November 20. Tickets are $8 for students with ID.
Written and directed by Hayao Miyazaki, and released in 1992, ‘Porco Rosso’ follows an Italian WWI flying ace now acting as a bounty hunter targeting “air pirates.” A Strange curse transforms him into an anthropomorphic pig. Magic, action, love and intrigue drive this youthful and entertaining plot.
Released by Studio Ghibli in 1988, ‘Grave of the Fireflies’ is based on a semi-autobiographical novel of the same name by Akiyuki Nosaka. Written and directed by Isao Takahata.
Set in the Japanese city of Kobe, this film follows two siblings, Seita and Setsuko, as they struggle through the last months of the Second World War.
What they don’t tell you about this movie is that, when it is eventually shown on television during Halloween marathons, it can be paired perfectly with the Christian Bale-helmed American Psycho. Honestly, I will be shocked if we don’t see at least one academic paper comparing the two parables of lunacy, featuring two of our greatest actors giving exceptionally creepy performances. That being said, this is not that academic paper so I will not bring up American Psycho until the end.
Louis Bloom (Gyllenhaal) is quickly established as a man who will do anything necessary to make a living. The film follows his rise (or descent?) into the world of Los Angeles crime journalism via taping footage of crime scenes. He rises to the top of his league by increasingly malicious deeds and the stakes climb as we discover how much of a monster he truly is.
I like camera
Being a film major myself, I know the struggles of filming night scenes. Anyone who has owned a camera or camcorder knows the pain of seeing grainy night footage cloud clear memories. That is one reason why the plethora of darkness throughout Nightcrawler is so gorgeous–the blackness is milky smooth and you find yourself truly immersed in the lunacy of our protagonist, Louis Bloom (Gyllenhaal). The majority of the film is shot in the dark, with only a handful of day shots as punctuation (that also have deeper meanings I am sure). However, the story is of a budding LA crime videographer and his questionable ethical decisions. This is not a film for the daylight.
At first I did not enjoy the cinematography. Throughout the film it is rough and unfinished, competent but not extraordinary. Then I realized: this is a film about a blossoming videographer. The genius of the cinematography is that it mirrors his own high-strung education in camera work and framing. Nightcrawler is quite a reflexive film, with not only images of cameras strewn everywhere and footage on videoscreens, but direct on-screen references to framing and camera jargon such as wide-screen lenses and megapixels.
In this way, Â lovers of filmography and photography are given a chilling reminder of boundaries in capturing life through a lens. The cinematography hammers this point into our faces by trading shots between Lou’s camera and the “official” camera of the film.
So here’s my number just call me maybe…
I enjoy James Newton Howard’s work, but the music felt inconsistent.
In this case, it seemed to be a reflection of the film’s own inconsistent message. Describing anything would give too much away, but the ending scene leaves the audience questioning its message more than anything. At some points the music is hopeful and cheery, reflecting Lou’s rise as a result of diligence and hard work. Other shots are adrenaline fueled and guitar driven. Then there were the pieces that matched the overall dark town of the film. Each would have worked in their own right, but spliced together they felt uncertain of which story they wanted to tell.
This brings me back to the comparison between American Psycho and Nightcrawler. At the end of American Psycho, we find that Bale’s character was only imagining his maniacal fantasies. He tries his hardest to confess his crimes, but no one seems to believe him or even bother paying attention to him for that matter. This is a dark commentary on the apathy of the corporate world and high-class society. What is the real lesson of Nightcrawler? The best I could think of is our failure as a society to address disturbed individuals when we have the chance.
Throughout the course of the film Lou interacts with many people. Several question his judgment, but none of them makes an effort to actively confront him or even help him. And this is not the kind of individual that suddenly develops a psychotic personality, this is a man who has been molded by the people around him.
Somewhere in this film there is a powerful moral lesson, but the film itself does not make that leap. Instead we are left with a morally questionable ending. We are left waiting for someone else to step in and fix the problem for us. Perhaps that is the film’s message, a commentary on our complacency and unwillingness to question what we see before our eyes.
