The audience must leave Iron Man feeling they've ridden in Tony Stark's suit, flown high above Las Angeles, and fought his traitorous father figure. Numerous POV shots from inside the helmet of the iron crusader (Robert Downey Jr.) place the spectator smack dab in the middle of the action. When the engines start freezing at high altitude, the numerous holographic screens can be seen as if the viewer were experiencing mayday him/herself. The sound design signifies the echo that such a helmet would have; the voice of Downey Jr.'s computer assistant and warning sirens spin around in the hollow of his helmet. Not only is Downey Jr. Iron Man, so is the audience. He's ideal image of a man we'd all like to be, a careless rich capitalist with women at his disposal. Further, the film literally merges man and machine. While the machine empowers, its flaws and the competition with another man/machine gives it an enormously destructive bourgeois privilege, one sizable to the egos contained inside.
A voyeur camera films Tony Stark inventing process and perfecting his titanium alloy suit, capturing every moment of his egotistical genius. His hidden loner status is further evoked with his relationship to a machine in his lab as the only trustworthy friend a war profiteer with a sudden change of heart could have.
The spectacle of shiny metal and the hard body of a perfectly muscular male is embodied by the iron man suit/weapon. The suit is literally a male weapon, albeit a freedom-fighting one that is consequently a killing machine. Talk about male insecurity, Stark has more cars he's partial about than he does friends or family he trusts. A sizable seaside villa and the fascination most of the men in the film have with big destructive machines makes me scared their egos will become their own unreliable inventions and all humanity will be lost (save that for the sequel). Never the less, Stark as Iron Man claims his new do-gooder identity and makes Pepper (Gwyneth Paltrow) both his pampering assistant, life-saver, and new love interest.
A scene in which Tony Stark is fiddling with the arm of his new alter ego machine/suit, a television in the background plays a news program detailing world atrocities. While Stark is in his living room, a stark contrast is drawn between his bountiful, elitist lifestyle and, on the t.v. screen, Afghani people are seen subject to the threat of a terrorist regime equip with Stark industry weapons.
Pepper, Stark's asexual conservative assistant works at all hours for him, and works has worked as the order to his madness for a long time. She mostly goes unnoticed by Stark who too consumed by his work to acknowledge her as more than just a human blackberry; that is until Stark attends a gathering at which he is supposed to make light of his denouncement of his weapon company's morals. It takes near death and imprisonment to incite this cynical bastard to become a benevolent martyr. Stark finally gives his assistant some recognition and makes her his incidental sidekick, this, after seeing her stark naked back in a gorgeous red gown. She almost gets what she thinks is coming, but, to her dismay, she gets none. Her pleasure is interrupted by a one-night-stand Vanity Fair reporter who taunts Stark with privileged photos of Stark Industry weapons in the hands of Afghani terrorists. He then goes to resolve it.
Except for Stark's darkly comedic personality, he is a machine making up for his own pigheaded profiteering. He was so ignorantly strung along by the co-president of his company, Obadiah Stane, who sheltered him from the truth about the company's weapons double-dipping trade and who attempts to kill Stark and his love interest.
With always due positive resolve for a classical Hollywood narrative, the white western hero triumphs over evil again and acquiesces the still subservient, Pepper, who should get off Stark's payroll, stop servicing the genius of a womanizer, and take some tips from Wonder Woman.
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Friday, May 2, 2008
Is there anyone left with a Leatherhead?
The recent George Clooney acted and directed screwball romantic comedy is reminiscent of the classical Hollywood narrative: the leading white male takes on an ideological goal (to make football a respected, lucrative professional sport). He pursues a woman secondary to the larger farcical plot in the tradition of a screwball comedy, scoring a tight laced female for the male team.
Lexie Littleton (Renee Zellweger), an incendiary and chomping Chicago Tribune Journalist nuzzles up to false War Hero, Carter Rutherford who Dodge (Clooney) is propping to be the first big football star athlete (the only thing he seems to do well). Zellweger attracts Carter in order to pull the cat out of the bag by exploiting him for a zinger of a story, thus, ascending at her workplace among what is portrayed to be a male dominated field. She competes with the men using the swordplay of quippy language and clever comebacks, but finally succumbs to Clooney's persistent wooing charm with which he manages to prove the truth about Carter's false reputation.
The film recalls football as an unincorporated pastime which has become a commercial spectacle and professional career for its players. Speaking of spectacles, Lexie Littleton takes more of the stage the game itself. She is a gal with a lot of "moxie." Wait, that's Dodge who's got a lot of that. He's the one who pops out of the upper bunk from behind the curtains in what should have been Lexie's private room on a sleeper car heading to a big football game. So much for privacy, she's caught in only her blouse after innocently undressing for the bachelor of all bachelors.
Following a screwball chase scene provoked when a prohibition era bar is raided by the police, Lexie and Dodge have their first kiss behind a storefront showcase back-lit with a romantic yellow glow. This gets Carter jealous, and he and Dodge duel it out. Is this because the genre expects it? The fight is more about proving who's man enough rather than the female possession.
Lexie, a woman with true gumption, willing to go great lengths to expose foney Carter, finds, when it comes to men, she's got to gush. Lexie uses her spectatcle to her advantage but nearly falls for the man she's trying to ruin and, in the end, embarrassingly puts Dodge flat on his ass because she can't handle a three wheeled motorbike. Watch her recover with humiliation hidden by an attempt to keep her integrity and cheer the dodgey couple off into the sunset. Is there anyone left with a leatherhead?
Lexie Littleton (Renee Zellweger), an incendiary and chomping Chicago Tribune Journalist nuzzles up to false War Hero, Carter Rutherford who Dodge (Clooney) is propping to be the first big football star athlete (the only thing he seems to do well). Zellweger attracts Carter in order to pull the cat out of the bag by exploiting him for a zinger of a story, thus, ascending at her workplace among what is portrayed to be a male dominated field. She competes with the men using the swordplay of quippy language and clever comebacks, but finally succumbs to Clooney's persistent wooing charm with which he manages to prove the truth about Carter's false reputation.
The film recalls football as an unincorporated pastime which has become a commercial spectacle and professional career for its players. Speaking of spectacles, Lexie Littleton takes more of the stage the game itself. She is a gal with a lot of "moxie." Wait, that's Dodge who's got a lot of that. He's the one who pops out of the upper bunk from behind the curtains in what should have been Lexie's private room on a sleeper car heading to a big football game. So much for privacy, she's caught in only her blouse after innocently undressing for the bachelor of all bachelors.
Following a screwball chase scene provoked when a prohibition era bar is raided by the police, Lexie and Dodge have their first kiss behind a storefront showcase back-lit with a romantic yellow glow. This gets Carter jealous, and he and Dodge duel it out. Is this because the genre expects it? The fight is more about proving who's man enough rather than the female possession.
Lexie, a woman with true gumption, willing to go great lengths to expose foney Carter, finds, when it comes to men, she's got to gush. Lexie uses her spectatcle to her advantage but nearly falls for the man she's trying to ruin and, in the end, embarrassingly puts Dodge flat on his ass because she can't handle a three wheeled motorbike. Watch her recover with humiliation hidden by an attempt to keep her integrity and cheer the dodgey couple off into the sunset. Is there anyone left with a leatherhead?
Labels:
Leath
Sunday, February 17, 2008
My Review of New Queer Flick "In the Blood"
Follow the enclosed link to read my review of In the Blood, a new horror film, distributed by TLA releasing, about a closeted senior college prep at NYC college who must have "pure" homosexual sex in order save his sister's life. How's that for coming to terms.
Blogged with Flock
Labels:
In the Blood (2007)
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Chicago Film News
Article From REELCHICAGO.COM
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"April Altenritter, owner of New York-based Rockit Pictures, has opened the full-service commercial production company UpLoop Media in Chicago."
Monday, February 11, 2008
Before the Devil Knows You're dead he thinks your asleep
Hank and Andrew played by Ethan Hawk and Phillip Seymour Hoffman, respectively, are two brothers who blow it big for a buck robbing the family jewels from their parents' suburban outlet store.Unfortunately, the stakes were visually downplayed.
Forgive this film because its performances are directed well, but despite this facet, Before the Devil Knows Your Dead feels warmed over death, a sleeper of a film. It was not the passed out audience member sitting at the back of the theater snoring obnoxiously during the snail crawling isometric shots or the hairy frame that seemed to be irremovable at the first-run bon marche three-screen bust theater.
Most curious was how the lives surrounding a single amateur robbery could be so convoluted. Every character's excruciatingly redundant point of view of the same incident is labeled with a heavy handed subtitle "Day of Robbery: Hank Hanson," "Andrew Hanson," "Charles Hanson." All that and the night before. The whole famn damily and some.
The brothers should have been at the center, and their mother more of a subject. Because we never actually meet Nanette Hanson (Rosemary Harris) or see the family interact much to begin with, her injury is not significant except for an excuse for the father and sons to blame each other. At least in Four Brothers there was a mother for the audience and the characters worth mourning.
Both brothers take the death hard, but are hell bent on getting away as accomplices to murder. They put themselves, their addictions, and their own sakes first. The only redeemable character is Hank because, in his apparently fragile and lesser state of mind, allows himself to become a tool. Condensing the parallel stories into one, Hank's, would have engaged my sympathies more. Is the story so bare bones that one shared plot had to be told from the perspective of each male character? The delineation was almost nil and served to bore, rather than to raise tension.
Sydney Lumet's actors seemed to be positively influenced by his directing talent as seen in his numerous acclaimed works, but I fault the script and cinematography for the sum of a stiff board.
Forgive this film because its performances are directed well, but despite this facet, Before the Devil Knows Your Dead feels warmed over death, a sleeper of a film. It was not the passed out audience member sitting at the back of the theater snoring obnoxiously during the snail crawling isometric shots or the hairy frame that seemed to be irremovable at the first-run bon marche three-screen bust theater.
Most curious was how the lives surrounding a single amateur robbery could be so convoluted. Every character's excruciatingly redundant point of view of the same incident is labeled with a heavy handed subtitle "Day of Robbery: Hank Hanson," "Andrew Hanson," "Charles Hanson." All that and the night before. The whole famn damily and some.
The brothers should have been at the center, and their mother more of a subject. Because we never actually meet Nanette Hanson (Rosemary Harris) or see the family interact much to begin with, her injury is not significant except for an excuse for the father and sons to blame each other. At least in Four Brothers there was a mother for the audience and the characters worth mourning.
Both brothers take the death hard, but are hell bent on getting away as accomplices to murder. They put themselves, their addictions, and their own sakes first. The only redeemable character is Hank because, in his apparently fragile and lesser state of mind, allows himself to become a tool. Condensing the parallel stories into one, Hank's, would have engaged my sympathies more. Is the story so bare bones that one shared plot had to be told from the perspective of each male character? The delineation was almost nil and served to bore, rather than to raise tension.
Sydney Lumet's actors seemed to be positively influenced by his directing talent as seen in his numerous acclaimed works, but I fault the script and cinematography for the sum of a stiff board.
Blogged with Flock
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
New Indie Queer Flicks
Socket
http://imdb.com/video/editorial/me60866258
Enjoy the new wave of independent GLBTI cinema, queering the horror/thriller genre.
Blogged with Flock
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Juno by Jason Reitman
A savvy High School girl, Juno MacGuff (Ellen Page), has a change of heart after initially deciding to "procure an abortion" as she says.
What is profound is not the fact that she chooses against aborting the fetus, which is not at all central to the story as are the relationships that exist in spite of the pregnancy.
Juno's parents are proactive rather than violently reactive. They, as they should, give the young woman the right to choose. Juno is a liberated adolescent, given the responsibilities of driving a car, going out unchaperoned, and allowed the inalienable freedom to have sex until she abuses it.
Juno follows in the wake of Knocked Up, another success story for an innocent infant bystander, but that is only one way to think of what incapable youth can do with a pregnancy.
What is profound is not the fact that she chooses against aborting the fetus, which is not at all central to the story as are the relationships that exist in spite of the pregnancy.
Juno's parents are proactive rather than violently reactive. They, as they should, give the young woman the right to choose. Juno is a liberated adolescent, given the responsibilities of driving a car, going out unchaperoned, and allowed the inalienable freedom to have sex until she abuses it.
Juno follows in the wake of Knocked Up, another success story for an innocent infant bystander, but that is only one way to think of what incapable youth can do with a pregnancy.
Monday, January 7, 2008
There Will Be Blood by Paul Thomas Anderson
Cumulus clouds against a true blue sky reflect boldly from an oil bed, foreshadowing a dire future for the earth's atmosphere. The frame is, in this shot, a political statement which speaks for the environmental crisis of the 20th Century and today, in large part, a consequence of the discovery of crude oil.
Its soundtrack weeps and screeches with disturbing string instrumental chords that agitates by suggesting everything that will soon go very wrong and emphasizes the troubled Daniel and the radical Eli (Paul Dano, Little Miss Sunshine).
Takes are long and patient. We are allowed to be enveloped by the images have them burnt into our retinas and remembered.
Physical performances take precedence over what is dialog in PT Anderson's new film, There Will Be Blood. Death and tradgedy plague the life of an ruthless "oil man," Daniel Plainview (Daniel Day Lewis, Gangs of New York) who proclaims himself rhetorically to large groups, delivering false promises to the those whose lives and land he manipulates for his capital gain.
Daniel takes under his wing a pretty-face orphaned child who he claims as his son and heir. However, complications stump Daniel's already stained lineage and he spirals, an unchanged man, into violent drunkenness.
Its soundtrack weeps and screeches with disturbing string instrumental chords that agitates by suggesting everything that will soon go very wrong and emphasizes the troubled Daniel and the radical Eli (Paul Dano, Little Miss Sunshine).
Takes are long and patient. We are allowed to be enveloped by the images have them burnt into our retinas and remembered.
Physical performances take precedence over what is dialog in PT Anderson's new film, There Will Be Blood. Death and tradgedy plague the life of an ruthless "oil man," Daniel Plainview (Daniel Day Lewis, Gangs of New York) who proclaims himself rhetorically to large groups, delivering false promises to the those whose lives and land he manipulates for his capital gain.
Daniel takes under his wing a pretty-face orphaned child who he claims as his son and heir. However, complications stump Daniel's already stained lineage and he spirals, an unchanged man, into violent drunkenness.
Thursday, January 3, 2008
Training Films for Public Transit Conductors in Chicago
WTTW11 spoke to the editors of a new book on Chicago's public transit in Chicago today. One of the photographs in the book is a still from an instructional film shown to transit conductors in the early 20th century.
I would like to research these films and their use as well as track down other stills and/or films to project.
Please send any findings, suggestions, or knowledge to lahrsawyer@hotmail.com
I would like to research these films and their use as well as track down other stills and/or films to project.
Please send any findings, suggestions, or knowledge to lahrsawyer@hotmail.com
Sunday, December 30, 2007
Blogging Phenomenon
Because blogging is a new medium of journal/diary writing that is for everyone's eyes unless limited to friendly/familiar viewers (mine is not), the deepest thoughts and feelings may be subject to anonymous criticism and mockery. Well, Hell. What does it matter, I guess, but does it matter? I think it will take time to grow on me.
However, what if we use the medium to express social/political criticism and philosophical believes. Surely we are doing that whether we mean to or not off and on the internet, but which form is preferable? Can we not express what we do here that we cannot in spoken words? Are we less social because of it or does it make us more social just in a non-traditional way?
Let's keep letting the people decide. For now, I'll keep talking about film.
Please visit my blog created for updating my research project on the confrontation of Eisenstein, Soviet Film, and Marxism with the U.S. Hollywood Film Industry in 1930; that is, the ideological conjunction of communist and capitalist ideology. The research paper seeks to answer why Hollywood was able to contract a Marxist, admire his work, but copy only his style and discard the morals.
However, what if we use the medium to express social/political criticism and philosophical believes. Surely we are doing that whether we mean to or not off and on the internet, but which form is preferable? Can we not express what we do here that we cannot in spoken words? Are we less social because of it or does it make us more social just in a non-traditional way?
Let's keep letting the people decide. For now, I'll keep talking about film.
Please visit my blog created for updating my research project on the confrontation of Eisenstein, Soviet Film, and Marxism with the U.S. Hollywood Film Industry in 1930; that is, the ideological conjunction of communist and capitalist ideology. The research paper seeks to answer why Hollywood was able to contract a Marxist, admire his work, but copy only his style and discard the morals.
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