Ratatouille (2007) directed by Brad Bird
My first Bird
For a film that advocates for originality—for a creator not to tread on familiar grounds (i.e. formulas), but to be spontaneous; unexpected; and above all, passionate about whatever it is you're creating—it undermines its own idea by not abiding it
I ended up really enjoying the film and its romanticized depictions of food, Paris—by way of harmless stereotypes—,and Parisian food. All of which are made possible by Michael Giacchino's easy-on-the-ears, amplifier of a score—that is both nail-biting and tender when it's called for—, and the, as to be expected, stellar animation. Has Paris ever looked as beautiful as it has when seen through a Pixar lens? More worthy of praise: They made rats watchable (I still hate them though). Onto the characters, all, humans and rodents alike, are pleasant to look at, and all backed by exceptional voice work (with the exception of Lou Romano as Linguini; too overly-nervous for me)—the most notable of which being: O'toole (who should be forced to read aloud every review ever written), Garrett, and Oswalt. The exaggerated (& never annoying) blocking is what causes the visual comedy to work as well as it did, and what makes the visual storytelling possible—I reckon this is one of those films that a viewer could watch deaf, and understand, at the very least, 80% of it. But ahh, back to my first point: The story that is told. It is fine—it hits a nail in the road a little past the halfway mark, but reaches its, foreseen, destination virtually unscathed. I just can't emphasize "foreseen" enough. Nothing is out of the ordinary; nothing is unexpected. THIS would be unexpected (contains some spoilers). On a serious note, would it not be more exciting had the ending not been a given, and/or if, let's say the animation, instead of the typical (but still great) Pixar style, was done in a style similar to that of the end credits—which I could not keep my eyes off of; I don't usually (see also: ever) sit through the end credits, but for Ratatouille's, the thought to turn it off never crossed my mind. To reiterate: I enjoyed the film, I just felt it dropped the ball there.
7/10
Dear Zachary: A Letter to a Son About His Father (2008) directed by Kurt Kuenne
rewatch
Its content—the unfortunate story that is told—was so vigorous; so unyielding; so unrelenting, that it was able to storm through the hurdles in the shape of questionable decisions made by director Kurt Kuenne.
It starts off good enough, with the countless words, said by an endless amount of people, describing the late Andrew Bagby; simultaneously (and quickly) establishing the high esteem in which he was regarded, and the large number of people he affected. Then, when we get to the truth, Kurt was able to precisely encapsulate the panicked haste experienced by the parents after having been made aware of the crushing news. Unfortunately, I'm afraid that is but one of a few choices Kuenne made that I can commend.
There are a number of singular confusing choices throughout, but I'll just touch on the two most damaging. First, are his poor attempts at outlining the rage and despair of Bagby's parents; a red filter (red = anger don't cha know) that cloaks the visuals, combined with muffled scream-like noises in the background is meant to highlight their emotions, but in actuality, it only served to suppress them. Certainly, in the hands of an editor with the know-how, this may have worked, but Kuenne is not that editor. It's baffling to me as to why he decided to go that route, as he does let one moment go along free of the so-called enhancements...and it works incredibly well (it's quite stilling, honestly). How could he, as the editor, see this moment and see how effective it was, and not come to the conclusion that all of the moments similar to it should also go untouched? Not only would it have worked much better, but it would've definitely been much easier on him.
The second and last thing would be the narration—both the narrator himself (Kurt), and the script that is narrated. Of course all narration is scripted, but when it's written well, you get the impression that what you're hearing is all on-the-spot; it just has a nice flow. Here however, the script is visible. I'm not the best at judging writing, or articulating what I disliked, but if I had to try I'd say: It's exact and boring; it has no rhythm, if that makes any sense. Every so often I would be taken out of the film, thinking "Oh, that doesn't feel right". The script doesn't deserve all the blame though, because had the narrator's voice been better, the words he spoke might've been passable. I've not got the slightest clue as to why Kurt decided to speak in such a monotonous way; especially after hearing how he normally sounds via a clip of him within the documentary. Strangely, for being so close to this tragedy, he came across as disconnected. However, there are a few, heartbreaking, instances where his link to the story becomes more than evident, and these moments end up being some of the most memorable. For that very reason, I don't wish that there'd been a different narrator, just that Kuenne had done it differently.
When watching the film, you may think that it's lacking something considerably important, but, unfortunately, it'll all make sense. There's really not much I could say without spoiling it—and I definitely don't want to; this deserves a watch—which is a shame since I haven't said much positive things about it. I'll say this to prep the viewer for what they're in for: You will get angry, very very angry; and you will cry, most likely more than once. It's inevitable, just accept it.
7/10
The Cameraman (1928) directed by Edward Sedgwick and Buster Keaton (who was strangely uncredited)
My first feature-length Keaton...has been a triumph!
The films kickoff—the first 15 minutes or so—had me exceedingly apprehensive. The slapstick was easy and uninspired, and to top that off, was shot and edited awkwardly; the Keaton that I knew was unrecognizable. Very worried was I at the thought of the first feature film of Buster's that I'd see, going on to be the first bad one as well. Perhaps that level of anxiety is what caused the eventual, stretched sigh-of-relief, I let go of, to be so heavy.
The exact point where the dispassionate-faced, insecure, and unwittingly suave Buster that I've quickly grown to love, done with his stretching, came to play, was at the scheduling of the walk. That second onwards: smooth sailing! Whatever the task was—slips, slides, and falls, to something as elementary as running—Keaton performed it to perfection, and all, impressively, topped, and perhaps made, with his facial expressions (or lack thereof). This, and his creative touch are what were missing in those drab 15 minutes.
The, as always, inventive gags, while each being funny, steadily improved. Beginning at the simple and grin-inducing stairs sequence, and ending at the invigorating spectacle that was the Tong War—where, unlike the muddled parade scene at the start, it was able to be chaotic/hectic while simultaneously being comprehensible.
If you've seen the picture, you've probably realized I've gone without speaking of the final 10 minutes. I wish I could say that because its predecessor (Tong) was such an exhilarating experience, the ending just couldn't follow and ultimately underwhelmed me. But the sad truth is that it simply felt tacked on. I'd like to think that there wasn't enough room in the budget, rather than them just not knowing how to end it. But whatever the reason, it's a bummer. That the film's edges were both disappointing is, well...disappointing; the scenes linking the two were such a delight however, that in the end, the film won me over.
7/10
Favorite Film of the Week: The Cameraman directed by Edward Sedgwick and Buster Keaton
My Letterboxd, if anyone's interested.