Thursday, August 22, 2013

The delicate art of documentaries

As a consumer of media, my tastes tend to lean towards fiction over nonfiction. I find this is true for both literature and film. If Freud were not deceased and somehow a buddy of mine, I'm sure he would have some psychological explanation for my preferences. This is not to say that I do not like documentaries or nonfiction novels at all. Quite the contrary, I believe they require a high amount of skill and precision in order to maintain my attention throughout.


For example, I finally dusted off Man on Wire from my Netflix cue as per the recommendation of my former professor and friend, Amy. The film looks back at the life of high-wire walker Phillipe Petit leading up to his illegal tight rope walk across the Twin Towers in 1974. Unlike most documentaries, the reenactments are extremely well-executed and despite knowing Phillipe survives, filmmakers are still able create tension throughout the entirety of the film.

Two other stunning examples come from HBO's Summer Documentary series. The first is Love, Marilyn. If you know me personally, you would know I admire, love and am a tiny bit obsessed with Marilyn Monroe. In my Stardom class in college, I wrote my thesis paper on her career trajectory and my favorite piece of writing throughout my time at AU. Therefore, after wading through copious amounts of research on the woman, I can say with some authority that this film gives the most authentic and robust portrayal of Marilyn/Norma Rae. I like the format of the doc, too; famous actresses read aloud her personal notes and letters along side interviews from friends.

The second HBO documentary was The Crash Reel, fifteen years of verite footage before and after professional snowboarder Kevin Pearce's half-pipe crash that left him with a traumatic brain injury only weeks prior to competing in the Vancouver Olympics. You expect the documentary to be a typical sports comeback tale; instead, its filled with familial complexities and discussions around the dangerous nature of extreme sports. The final photography, shot at night on the half-pipe with Shaun White is gorgeous, reminding the viewer why we enjoy watching the sport in the first place, despite the risks.

 Most importantly, what has helped re-spark my interest in great docs is learning about the fascinating people who have shaped history. I would be remiss if I did not end this post with a plea to help a Kickstarter project very close to my heart. Be Natural is the untold story of Alice Guy-Blache, the first female director. She wrote, directed or produced more than 1,000 films in the course of her 20 year film career and yet, you never hear of her in film classes. The campaign has four days left and still needs about $100k in order to hit their funding goal. I believe its imperative these filmmakers spread Alice's life story for both women's and film history. Even if you can only donate $1, do it and then tell your friends to do the same.



Thursday, August 1, 2013

An ode to Sam Rockwell

Three month and a half months later...

The moral of my blogging story seems to be that I am a semi-unreliable narrator. Life caught up to me over the past three and a half months. I moved back to DC from New York, started a new job and have been settling down in my new apartment. It seems ironic and appropriate that my previous post ended with excitement over a Sam Rockwell film and I can open this one with excitement over another.

First, I am going to rewind to the Tribeca Film Festival and tell the funny tale of how I ended up at the North American premiere of A Single Shot. When I bought my tickets, I was blissfully unaware the screening I was attending would be any different from the two others I attended earlier in that week. The first sign I was not in Kansas any more was the line around the corner. The second were the people dressed in suits compared to my casual Friday wear and finally was the entrance:



I literally walked a red carpet, and the story only gets better. In the huge auditorium, I end up sitting four rows behind David Rosenthal, Sam Rockwell, Jeffrey Wright and Kelly Reilly. Needless to say, I totally geeked out. The film itself was also excellent and I highly recommend it. An Appalachian noir with amazing story structure and acting skills throughout. Unfortunately, about the fifth question in the Q&A following the film was about gun control which wasn't even important to the narrative. I really dislike anyone's want/need to be THAT GUY.



Returning to the present, I recently saw The Way, Way Back, written by Academy Award-winning screenwriters Nat Faxon and Jim Rash. The WWB is the right balance of comedy and drama, but the best part of the film is, as I have coyly been hinting, Sam Rockwell. My favorite scene shows young Duncan on his first day at the water park. Sam plays Owen with an energy that is both maniac and infectious. The only downside to the film is Sam's energy seemed to be restrained the rest of the film and you really, really wish it wasn't.

I'll close out this post a little differently than usual, with a Sam Rockwell retrospective. A few of my favorites for your Netflix/Amazon Prime/etc. cues include Moon, Choke, Matchstick Men and I'll throw in some Charlie's Angels, just to get a little bad boy Sam Rockwell in there. Which films do you like from Sam?