There are three cases of arrogance on my mind today.
The most immediate is of the naive variety. Just sat through the beautiful afternoon indoors for a casting session for Nick Peterson's film Yellow, a musical. Actors came in and sang along with a recording and then read sides. Two were well prepared and two were not. One of the ill prepared was a student of mine. A student on partial scholarship. A student I passionately recommended to Nick. I wonder what the point of showing up to an audition unprepared might be. Could it be that the actor thinks of it as an opportunity to meet and greet the filmmaker or casting director? Or that by simply showing up they'll be cast based on their good looks and winning ways? My student will be called back. Unfortunately, in my opinion. He sings well and he is a good actor, his talent certainly came through. Though not nearly as well had he put an hour into preparing for the audition I set up for him more than a week ago.
My money is on the other two guys. Both of whom are non-actors, by the way. It helps that they are musicians, most particularly for this film, but it's their charisma combined with their preparation that's winning them near the kiss.
The second instance of hubris I experienced this weekend is of the harumph variety. I suffered through Ridley Scott's commentary on the Thelma & Louise DVD. Clearly he's a man of considerable talent and accomplishment. Knighted by the Queen. A member of both the American and British film academies. Indeed.
"My genius is caah-sting, you see. When the actors are well caahst, they know what to do and I can concentrate on things like this shot." A night travelling shot of Louise's T-bird passing a truck on the highway. A shot that tells us nothing. Totally arbitrary.
I quite wish he would have let us experience a shot of Geena Davis's face when she's about to get raped. That way we would have felt what she felt as it was happening, instead of seeing insert shots of her panties getting pulled down. (Which leans more toward eroticism than violence if you ask me.) Had we experienced the imminent threat of violation with her in the parking lot, the moment that Thelma stops Louise from second-guessing herself later in the movie and reminds her "He was hurting me." would have had much more of an impact.
The other case of excessive confidence that comes to mind is David Walker's film reviews in the last two issues of WW. The exact position of film critic for an alt-weekly is in question. Certainly we expect a little sardonic zest, wit and hipness in such a rag. Though, is not the job really about letting us know -- in a hip, witty and zesty sardonic fashion, of course -- if the film is worth a sawbuck and two hours of our time? Surely we do not expect Film Comment nor Cahiers du cinema. A little film crit is welcome for the cinephiles, sure, but let's serve the common WW reader. Well lately DW has erred not in the over-erudition of his criticism, but in subsuming the reader's knowledge and going straight for the kill. (Or in the case of a local film on which he toiled as associate producer, straight for the fluff job.)
First the fluff. Eight paragraphs or so qualifying his review of the film, two paragraphs of plot summary and a paragraph excusing the poor craftsmanship of the filmmakers. He claimed that the film showed the promise of digital video. I thought promise requires more than getting some people together to make a movie with no thought toward composition, lighting, sound or story development. Dear David, I would have appreciated a heads up that the film stinks and it's not worth my time, let alone my money.
Then the kill. "John Singleton is a no talent hack." Though DW loves Hustle & Flow, as do I, which wouldn't have gotten made had not John Singleton put up his own money to produce it. DW's review of H&F is a good example of why he is gainfully employed as a film critic, by the way. "Someone should pay Rob Schneider to go fuck himself." Does Deuce Bigleow European Gigolo really incite such vitriol? Sky High: "Super-stupid family-friendly comedy that…" DW doesn't have a family and doesn't have to endure family films. But I do and after seeing the super-stupid moron-friendly film DW fluffed earlier in the day, Sky High seemed like the Wizard of Oz later in the evening. Dear David, Sky High was well worth our $12 and the two-hour roundtrip out to Newberg to see it at the 99W drive-in.
I would write a letter to DW c/o WW, but I'm practicing restraint of tongue and pen. Lest I wind up fodder for an arrogance posting in some blog.
Ariverdertcheeee,
Signore Direttore
No comments:
Post a Comment