Film Hook

The Place Beyond the Pines, Dir. Derek Clanfrance

Micah Ling — Mon, 01 Apr 2013 23:53:59 +0000

Circles. This film is about inevitable circles. It proves that, almost no matter how much we want to resist, there's no stopping what a reaction sets forth. There are things that have been set in motion that we simply cannot be bigger than. Whether you believe in fate or irony or that there are no accidents, you've got to admit that people often come together at perfect (or fatal) times. Ryan Gosling (as motorcycle stunt-man bank-robber, Luke) has some admirable qualities. And it's true, if you wait for your woman while leaning up against your motorcycle with all the confidence of the world in your crossed arms--that's going to be damn near impossible to deny. Luke lacks patience, though, and he has a sort of unexpected run-in with a rookie cop (Bradley Cooper) and there's your butterfly wing to water. Jump ahead 15 years and there's almost no direction that this film doesn't go in. The sound editing and the directing make this a pretty thrilling experience. It turns out, there are no good guys or bad guys: there are only human beings. We make mistakes. We move on or we let things haunt us. We find our way. -Micah Ling

The Comedy, Dir. Rick Alverson

Micah Ling — Wed, 27 Mar 2013 03:15:30 +0000

I can't believe how much this film is like an album. I'm not just saying that because it was put out by Jagjaguwar. And I'm not just saying that because I pretty much love everything Jagjaguwar has their hands in. It's true. Swanson is an aging hipster in Williamsburg--with plenty of money. He's about to inherit his father's estate, and seems to do very little with his days. Because it's called The Comedy, you keep coming back to that: what's funny? What isn't funny? What's funny only upon reflection, but actually really scary? Where is the line between humor and fear? There's nothing necessarily deep here: it's not a riddle or an annoying metaphor. It's really simple. And life is really funny, but not in a way that is ever dealt with in film. This isn't entertaining-funny; it's more an absolute reflection. And if we're not laughing on a regular basis about how serious we take ourselves, well then things are getting dangerous. Saying that this film is subtle doesn't do it justice. People are grotesque and selfish and dirty and pathetic, but also magnificent and hilarious. The closing scene is earned. Do things to feel good and free and young. Just do. -Micah Ling

Academy Award-Nominated Animated Short Films 2013

Micah Ling — Tue, 19 Feb 2013 02:07:13 +0000

The Academy Awards are coming up next week, and while awards certainly don't mean much, it's a decent way to reflect on what people are creating in film these days: incredible stuff. The IFC Center, and several other theaters are screening the nominees. Short films, maybe especially animated short films, are the poems of the film world: often overlooked or deemed less significant, when really they tend to be the most creative/original/moving pieces out there. Like poems, they often pack just as much emotion, humor, and insight as their feature-length counterparts, but in much less space: no room for error. Some things that I (re)learned from watching this group of animated shorts: Ayn Rand is pure evil, dogs are amazing, butterflies are magical, if you have someone to touch--someone to touch you--then you're infinitely lucky, if you lose the girl you can get her back but it takes a lot of paper airplanes, fear is hilarious and debilitating at once, and guacamole is perhaps the perfect food. All very important lessons. Try to find these films: you’ll feel as good as you do after reading stellar poems. –Micah Ling

(Films viewed: Maggie Simpson In “The Longest Daycare”, Dir. David Silverman; Adam and Dog, Dir. Minkyu Lee; Fresh Guacamole, Dir. Adam Pesapane (PES); Head Over Heels, Dir. Timothy Reckart; Paperman, Dir. John Kahrs; The Gruffalo’s Child, Dir. Uwe Heidschotter & Johannes Weiland; Dripped, Dir. Leo Verrier; Abiogenesis, Dir. Richard Mans).

Sound City dir. David Grohl

Micah Ling — Sat, 02 Feb 2013 00:31:46 +0000

Dave Grohl set out to tell the story of The Neve Console, but ended up telling the story of what it means to really care about music and what it means to be an artist, and what it means to be human. Sound City Studios opened in 1969 in LA and became a home away from home for some of (most of?) the best musicians ever. The studio purchased the Neve Console made by Rupert Neve. There were only four of these mixing consoles made, and only one custom made: for Sound City. No one could get over the sound of this board; it was like the center of a spaceship. As technology came, the thing about Sound City was that they wanted to use technology as a tool instead of a crutch. They wanted to preserve the humanness of music. As Mic Fleetwood put it, “I think the downside these days is thinking that I can do this all on my own: yes you can do this all on your own, but you’ll be a much happier human being to do it with other human beings. And I can guarantee you that.” Dave Grohl took the studio over in 2011, in an effort, as he says, “to keep music sounding like people.” –Micah Ling

The Loneliest Planet, Dir. Julia Loktev

Micah Ling — Thu, 10 Jan 2013 03:27:14 +0000

This film is frighteningly huge. A young couple and a guide tramp through the incredible landscape of the Caucasus Mountain wilderness. If you've ever spent time hiking great distances or traversing the wild in any capacity, you know that it's anything but silent, and yet, there isn't a whole lot of dialogue here. Word games, laughter, a few stories. Bigger things are said without dialogue. In fact, most of what's said isn't said at all. We like to think that when faced with unpredictable situations, that we'll remain who we know ourselves to be. But perhaps most of us don't know ourselves so well in the first place. This film subtly says a lot about reaction. It says a lot about gender roles and just what it means to be human. What it means to love something more than yourself--if, in the end, that's actually even possible. It’s a risky thing to trust another person: to let someone else hold your heart and your hope, but, maybe risk is better than loneliness; maybe it’s more interesting than walking alone. –Micah Ling

On the Road, Dir. Walter Salles

Micah Ling — Thu, 03 Jan 2013 01:51:31 +0000

It's a tricky if not dangerous task to adapt a book with a cult following into a film, but what's more tempting than danger? This is a pretty good look at the time: a time before hippies and beats and hipsters--a genuine time. Salles got his cast right. Kristen Stewart as Marylou is equal parts vulnerability and spirit: young and mischievous. Kirsten Dunst is good, too: not backing down. The women here are generally strong. Even Elisabeth Moss' small roll is full of spit and vinegar. Sam Riley shines as Sal Paradise. Overall, this is tidy; maybe too tidy. The best scenes are when Sal and Dean are out seeing music. Otherwise there's not quite enough raw energy to match the book. It's not quite raging enough. But it is pretty: it is worth seeing. It does make intoxication seem normal if not necessary. There seems to be a greater sense of loneliness in the film than the book, which might not be a bad thing. Everyone is searching for something they know they won’t find—that’s a lonely trip—one we’re all on, basically. The reason we all relate to this work—to the process. –Micah Ling

Django Unchained, Dir. Quentin Tarantino

Ben Glass — Thu, 27 Dec 2012 18:24:32 +0000

More of the same? All plot, no story. Tarantino’s revenge film—his fourth in a row (counting two volumes of Kill Bill) doesn’t feel tired, so much as empty. Watching buckets of blood splatter with each revolver shot, I kept asking myself, “So what?” Christoph Waltz plays marvelously as the German dentist-cum-bounty hunter and Jamie Foxx and DiCaprio are both sharp, but the problem with Django Unchained is that it lacks character depth, or conceptual gravitas (a la Inglorious Basterds), to mollify the excessive gore. Yes, we understand why Django, a slave freed by the German, wants to find his wife, also a slave, and buy her freedom. We even get why the dentist wants to help—a combination of guilt and responsibility for granting Django freedom and using him as an aid to bounty hunting, but it all feels rote.

The problem is dynamism. Perhaps this is merely Tarantino being true to the ethos of the spaghetti western. It’s simply good v. evil. Perhaps the soundtrack of rap music (where else do we hear plantation-profligate use of the N-word?) presents a conceptual core. But with Tarantino, we expect more than cunning ways to blow the human body apart.

Hitchcock dir. Sacha Gervasi

Micah Ling — Sat, 08 Dec 2012 00:37:56 +0000

If what Hitchcock gave us in his films was always something unexpected, then director Sacha Gervasi and writers John J. McLaughlin and Stephen Rebello kept with the theme. Each Friday at 11am, the IFC Center in Manhattan features one of Hitchcock's films: usually on 35mm film, which is a treat. I've gone to as many as possible in the last several weeks (Rope, Rear Window, The Birds, Topaz), so I've been freshly reminded of his genius. Psycho has always been my favorite, though. I've probably seen it a dozen times. Gervasi's take on Hitchcock's life at the time that he made Psycho (1959) makes it even more remarkable. And, the unexpected (at least for me) is his lovely relationship with his wife, Alma. If you wonder (rightfully) for a moment, whether or not Hopkins can pull it off: he can. And Mirren is his flawless match. James D'Arcy plays Anthony Perkins, the actor who played Norman Bates--it's worth mentioning that he is eerily perfect in the role. This film really just confirms that Hitchcock got it: he was an artist first. He took on projects for the fun of it: for the experience. And remarkably, he ended up being a pretty decent (hu)man, too. -Micah Ling

The Rolling Stones: Charlie Is My Darling, Dir. Peter Whitehead

Micah Ling — Fri, 26 Oct 2012 22:53:47 +0000

In September of 1965, The Rolling Stones were getting their first real taste of serious fame on their tour through Ireland. They were adorable. Man or woman, old or young, you will have a crush on all of them in this documentary. Innocence, talent, sex appeal: all of it so stark and hatching into what would obviously become enormous. But this is such a lovely reminder of humanity: such a real portrait of a bunch of guys having a good time. And, they were all super cute; really. Brian Jones' hair was hilarious. Charlie Watts' "this won't last" attitude: also hilarious. Mick and Keith answer some questions, interview-style, but the most incredible moments (besides just watching the concert footage), are when the band is killing time together: writing songs, getting drunk, imitating other musicians. There's one scene in particular, when they're making their way through a decent amount of wine, and "doing" Elvis songs. There are plane rides, train rides, and running from mob scenes, but the music is such glue: that becomes so clear--they have very few thoughts that aren't about the music. Go get your Stones albums out: they haven't gotten old at all. -Micah Ling

The Master, dir. Paul Thomas Anderson

Ben Glass — Mon, 01 Oct 2012 19:51:09 +0000

It’s hard to talk about. It’s massive. Whitmanian in its bodily rawness, it contains multitudes. Have you seen a scowl so sculpted as the one Phoenix carries through the film? His Freddie Quell is convincing and more forceful than TWBB’s Daniel Planview, but only because Freddie doesn’t know what he wants. He does want something though, and his life spirals violently toward and against it. And the Master, Lancaster Dodd (Hoffman) might have a solution with his double-spoken truths of millennia and psychological hypnosis.

Anderson has described his film as a love story between these two men, and their interactions are so manic and beautiful, so central, you wonder why all this talk of Scientology prevails. Cult religion plays a part, but it’s what lies behind the religion, what desires humans have for each other, but can’t fulfill, that threads the film. Anderson makes keen use of the close up, highlighting the craggy face of Freddie, and Dodd’s peach-fuzzed, Chris Cringle-y charisma to highlight, perhaps, the difference of those returning from WWII and those who vacantly held court back home. The Master asks us to face the impossibility of the free roaming maverick Hollywood and America have celebrated for nearly a century.