Showing posts with label Coen Brothers. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Coen Brothers. Show all posts

Sunday, October 2, 2016

A Serious Man

Seriously?! 

I'm supposed to come up with words about this thing?! 

Well, ...it's modern Job lite, where physics are thwarted by fate and all the "experts" aren't going to give Larry straight answers, so he might as well make up his own mind about his problems and get on with it, otherwise others will continue to make it for him. Being nice is nice, but being perpetually acquiescent is not. It's hard enough with the things we have no control over, but to hand over control when we don't have to, is basically handing over life. hmm. I think I just gave myself a pep talk. :) 

Sometimes the answer really does come from oneself! Oh, and Minda is right. The answer also comes from the members of the Airplane... "you better find somebody to love."


Sunday, September 25, 2016

Miller's Crossing

When a man's an empty kettle, he should be on his mettle and yet I'm torn apart, just because I'm presumin' that I could be kind of human...


The heart is a tricky thing, when you're a thinking man. It gets in the way and then all that thinking has to work double time, to offset the mess of mercy. 

My, isn't Tom smart. They should have called him Alexander, since he solves the puzzle by expertly pulling that Gordian knot out of its pole pin. Yeah, he's thinking circles around everyone else, but you know what happens with unknotted knots? They unravel... and the ties that bind are no more.



Barton Fink

I have dreamed a dream, and my spirit was troubled to know the dream...because you see the thing is gone from me. *


Each line of dialogue in my head is audible, as is the cry of the fishy Mundt, "I'll show you the life of the mind!" 

But, watching the cursor blink on and off on this white screen, I'm at a loss. 

Do I love the film? Yes! 

Am I both disturbed and enthralled by it? Most definitely. 

Do I see all the explorations of high brow vs. low brow, Hollywood's machinations and writer's block as a type of hell? I think so. 

But, can I find a way to write anything about it? No, not really.


* Daniel 2:3,5


Thursday, July 7, 2016

Inside Llewyn Davis

I love this review so much I'm not waiting to post it in order of writing. -ed.

Between 'action' and 'cut', that's mine. No matter how big the production is, that's still my space. That's a sacred place.” – Oscar Isaac


Jerzy Grotowski, the Polish theorist, used the term, The Holy Actor, so then it could be said, the holy actor is in a sacred place. In what ways is art hallowed? Grotowski takes an insightful stab at that question:

Why do we sacrifice so much energy to our art? Not in order to teach others but to learn with them what our existence, our organism, our personal and repeatable experience have to give us; to learn to break down the barriers which surround us and to free ourselves from the breaks which hold us back, from the lies about ourselves which we manufacture daily for ourselves and for others; to destroy the limitations caused by our ignorance or lack of courage; in short, to fill the emptiness in us: to fulfill ourselves...art is a ripening, an evolution, an uplifting which enables us to emerge from darkness into a blaze of light.

Be it theatre, film, music, writing, art… this is the divine nature of the pursuit. Creation. But the art is just the (bi)product. The creation is within; it’s the continual (re)discovery through observation and self-examination, which, if done with real intent, discards the façade, until the true self emerges. The legend of Michelangelo’s artistry has it correct, “You just chip away the stone that doesn’t look like David.”


The beauty of art is that it’s a shared experience, so as artists are chipping away, I get to chip too. The more I allow others' creations to affect me, the more fully me I become, Inside. After all, life is art, or at least it can be if it's lived bravely and in wonder. And, because this movie touches on all these aspects, it fills me full with that "blaze of light."

Sunday, April 17, 2016

True Grit (2010)

I reckon there’s been a lot of misjudging around these parts and the biggest culprit is likely to be me. Now the Duke cast a mighty long shadow and it’s regrettable that I took so long to walk out from underneath it to lift my face to the sepiad sun. For a collaboration of a whole passel of people commenced to not only fill those big boots, but made an effectual artistic impression as well.

Saturated with aged colors and textures, the town and costumes are the first signs that give me the notion I’m in for a full immersion and then it’s a done deal when the words come. Words flowing out, out of all manner of mouths: determined, grizzled, tongue mangled, slack jawed, spittle flying. I watch again with the subtitles so I can gather up all of the words that had fallen past me. How came Mattie by way of her vocabulary? Just fourteen and out trading a horse trader? I’m envious and in want of them powerful words. There’s no better sport than word sparring and I figure the film is chuck full of them--lively times.


Memorable scenes are aplenty, but I’m tied up with the starlit run. The great big night sky gives the illusion that, borrowing a line from Clark Gable, “the stars are so close over your head, you feel you could reach up and stir them around.” Worry catches in my throat and I hold out little hope for that horse.

As for misjudging, it’s like what that documentary coach said about how football doesn’t build character, but reveals it. Same goes for man hunting in Choctaw Territory. That particular brand of adversity reveals a lot about the characters of a so called, unattractive girl, a buck-skinned dandy and a washed up bushwhacker marshal. As I see it, observation gives credence to a person, not his trappings. I also fetch something else from this tale. I’d been reading some dialogue from Before Sunrise and the line that came back to my remembrance during this movie was “If there's any kind of magic in this world it must be in the attempt of understanding someone, sharing something.” Isn’t it in the finding of that which compels Mattie to move Cogburn to her family cemetery? After all, isn’t that what we’re all looking for, to know and be known?