Depois desta nova tentativa de recuperar a necessidade e vontade de escrever sobre cinema e música, é altura de por fim a este formato de escrita e partilha que se iniciou há cerca de dez anos com o Mulholland Drive. Depois foi O Homem Que Viveu Duas Vezes e entretanto a Internet mudou, eu também e com tudo isso também o ímpeto premente de partilha na blogosfera.

Obrigado a todos os que foram acompanhando a viagem. Sabem onde me podem encontrar.  Até breve.

When many people say Hirokazu Koreeda is a true artistic son of the Japanese master Yasujiro Ozu it might seem like one of those forced parallelisms film critics need to conjure in order to set a basis of communication with the reader. Nevertheless, there is, in many ways, a solid ground for that argument, if not only for his love of still camera work, allowing the characters to come in and out of screen as they see fit. And Koreeda is definitely interested the same themes as Ozu, more specifically, the deep exploration of family and the dynamics between children and parents throughout their lives, in extreme or mundane situations. Kiseki, or I Wish, is perhaps one of his lighter films, following the lives of two young brothers whose family nucleus is divided by their parents separation, both emotionally and physically. They try to rekindle and reunite what was lost through the means of a wish involving the lucky meeting between opposite trains now uniting their cities. This could very well be Koreeda’s most innocent premise, especially when compared with the desperate gloom of Nobody Knows and the quiet regrets of Still Walking, but it is not any less profound in the way it looks into the longing of these two brothers and their friends and their transition to a higher state consciousness towards themselves and the world, an essential part of growing up. A beautiful and innocent ‘little’ movie with so much to give.

4 stars

“God, why have you created me so eternally dissatisfied? So frightened, so bitter? Why must I realize how wretched I am? Why must I suffer so hellishly for my insignificance?“

Winter Light (1963) by Ingmar Bergman

Christopher Nolan is a conundrum. A filmmaker that starts on alternative cinema and then successfully makes the transition to mainstream, without losing either sight or focus, is a very rare event. And that is why backlash was already palpable two films ago, with the second installment of the reinvented Batman saga. The Dark Knight deconstructed everything about the comic-adaptation genre and built something that will stand for the ages as the way of doing action without abdication of the intellect. It stood as one of the bleakest and most poignant films to come out of American cinema, independent or not, and it raised the bar immeasurably for the last chapter of the trilogy. As a surprise to many, The Dark Knight Rises does not falter and delves deeper into the myth of the unwilling hero that sacrifices himself and everything he represents for the sake of order above chaos. The idea of an immortal symbol being more powerful than a mortal individual is quite meaningful, especially when the mask abolishes the man behind it. Nolan becomes even more political as he depicts a false uprising of the people of Gotham under the banner of a blind revolution. The siege of Gotham is truly frightening and an enhanced version, almost a metaphorical alarm call, of what the world can expect as hope becomes nothing but a distant light in the midst of a reign of chaos. And that is why Tom Hardy’s Bane is such an effective villain as he feeds from despair and the last remainders of human perseverance and transforms them into the most powerful of weapons, managing to exert his apocalypse under the wing of liberation. The Dark Knight Rises is not without flaws though and through the end some incongruences appear as the plot comes to an end and some (unnecessary) twists are unveiled, attenuating the true nature of the beast. It does once again triumph in deconstructing the character of Bruce Wayne, even more broken and powerless. But how he rises again towards salvation is as inspiring as ever and Nolan manages to intellectually stimulate and disturb audiences under the bane of entertainment. And that is truly remarkable.

4 stars

PS: Whoever doubted Anne Hathaway will be ravished by how perfect, unique and deliciously disruptive she is as Catwoman, who along with the ever surprising Joseph Gordon-Levitt, are most-welcome additions to the superb cast.

A film about male strippers could never be too much of a highbrow affair, but when Steven Soderbergh‘s name is attached to something you expect a bit more than your typical comedy-turns-drama fanfare. But the disappointing thing is that this is not a Soderbergh film, it’s just a movie he happened to direct, once again proving how hit-and-miss he has been lately. Even if it’s not unabashedly bad, it misses a lot of the promises it raises throughout its duration and never actually finds a away to balance its emotional undertones, switching too clumsily from a flirtatious buddy comedy to a Lifetime redemption drama. Channing Tatum manages to do both with grace, in addition to being an hell of a dancer, but just isn’t able to raise above the banality of what Magic Mike turns out to be. Give me Showgirls any day…

2 stars

‘After all, there’s never been a kingdom given to so much bloodshed as that of Christ.’

Straw Dogs (1971) by Sam Peckinpah

Wes Anderson is not one to shy away from the peculiar fantasy world he himself created, even when some critics imply that he is incapable of living outside that realm. The real question is how often nowadays is a director creative enough to create his own dimension and populate it with characters that are so unique and special that they can not exist anywhere else? Very rarely. And Anderson manages to do so while keeping itbrand new as another of his fables invade the formatted lineup of American independent cinema. Moonrise Kingdom is a sweet and hypnotic tale of a juvenile but truthful love between a runaway boy scout and a strange little girl who is having difficulties growing up. No matter how quirky and outrageous the plot and execution get, this is a movie that never loses its heart. And, in that aspect, it might be Wes Anderson’s greatest triumph yet, in par with The Life Aquatic. Even if his colorful and sumptuously dry cinematic language is not new, it remains miraculously fresh, endearing and nothing like you will ever see anywhere else. Ever.

4 stars

No matter how deeply flawed the setlist is and how some arrangements are unconvincing, Madonna’s MDNA Tour concert last Sunday in Coimbra had the spark and bite that she never should have abandoned, in and out of the stage. After an uncharacteristic Sticky & Sweet, she dazzles and transgresses conventions again in a thoughtful reformulation of her music into a glorious pop opera. This makes it her most successful tour in that respect since the daring and unsurpassable Drowned World. The mise-en-scene is supported by one of the most dynamic stages ever seen, adapting itself to every moment in a mind-blowing manner. For all the justified discontent arisen in recent years, Madonna as live performer remains the same. And that is a victory for everyone.

2012: 6 months, 9 albums

Beach House – Bloom
Carminho – Alma
Grimes – Visions
Lana Del Rey – Born to Die
The Maccabees – Given to the Wild
Regina Spektor – What We Saw From the Cheap Seats
Sharon Van Etten – Tramp
The Shins – Port of Morrow
Sleigh Bells – Reign of Terror

The union of Jeff Nichols and Michael Shannon in Shotgun Stories was memorable and surprising. Because Nichols knows cinematic storytelling and Shannon knows how to rip masks and show bare flesh without even a hint of a whimper. That is partly why Take Shelter is one of the most suffocating movies in recent American independent cinema. Curtis seems to have the perfect life and a struggling, but united, family. Hence all of a sudden panic strikes him through a series of apocalyptic nightmares which he fears will become true and subsequents incursions into schizophrenia. This is a truly unseen portrait of dementia, characterized by a slow descent into paranoia but always in a sustained manner. Rarely in movies have psychological disorders been shown in such a sober way, mainly because of Michael Shannon once again earth-shattering performance, in a disturbing struggle with himself to always stay in control. He is not alone this time though. Jessica Chastain, undoubtedly the next greatest actress in the world, is equally charismatic and moving as the wife whose concern and love never falter. And, with the risk of being reductive, the whole movie, even in its most prophetic aspirations, is all about that spark between them which allows him to take shelter on her before his mind fully unravels. That is why the much talked about ending is not to be feared or disdained. It ends up being nothing more than another projection of their belief in each other. And no storm can destroy that.

5 stars

Filed under: Movies, Reviews Tagged: american independent cinema, cinematic storytelling, Film, Jeff Nichols, Jessica Chastain, Michael Shannon, Shotgun Stories, Take Shelter ]]> https://vertigostare.wordpress.com/2012/05/30/take-shelter-2011-by-jeff-nichols/feed/ 0 nmgoncalves takeshelter