Tag Archives: auteur

Link Dump: #91

This week’s kitty is the iconic, vaguely malicious one from Nobuhiko Obayashi’s cult classic Hausu (1977). It’s so cute and fluffy and also a harbinger of weeeeird deadly things to come. Love that kitty. And here are a bunch of links:

And now, some incoherent and/or porn-ish search terms: “hiroshima wet cunt,” “seymour skinner gay porn,” “hh holmesggfrrrrrrr,” “masturbating to malthusian,” “ukraine / pussy lady /nice photos.” People really searched the Internet for all of those things… and somehow found themselves here.


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Link Dump: #40

This kitty comes to us from Tom Tykwer’s Perfume: The Story of a Murderer (2006), recently named by reader Christianne as one of the best horror movies of the past decade, and recently reviewed by Andreas over at 366 Weird Movies. It’s got a half-naked Ben Whishaw and the sonorous voice of Alan Rickman; what more could you want? How about some links?

Alas, no truly surprising search terms this week… but tune in next Friday, and that just might change.


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Link Dump: #39

I know how Krazy Kat feels up there. A brick to the head, the absurd July heat—they’re basically the same thing. We’ve been pretty sluggish lately, as you may have noticed, with our summer blogging being “sporadic” at best. But never fear! We’ll be bouncing back with new content in the next month or two. In the meantime, try to stay cool, avoid bricks, and enjoy these links…

We’ve only got one out-of-the-ordinary search term this week and it’s “princess ariel fucks other princesses pussy.” OK, it’s not really unusual for us, but it’s extremely straightforward. It’s like they’re telling Google, “I want Disney porn. Please give me Disney porn.” Different strokes for different folks, right? (Though “strokes” might not be the best choice of words there…)


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One More Look at John Huston

Since the Icebox Movies John Huston Blogathon concluded yesterday (sort of), I hope now to wrap up my meandering thoughts on Huston’s expansive career. (For previous meanderings, see my posts on the director’s modernist tendencies and his film The Treasure of the Sierra Madre.) Since I’ve only seen a fraction of his films, it’s difficult for me to make any kind of grand statement about Huston’s obsessions or visual style. But I’ll at least take a stab at identifying a few definite preoccupations I’ve noticed and, finally, at that beloved question of the latter-day cinephile, “auteur or not?” So, to put it in appropriately daring Shakespearean terms, “Once more unto the breach!”

As I glanced over some of Huston’s films for this blogathon, one consistent feature of his mise-en-scène struck me: an emphasis on faces. I’m not talking about Bergmanesque portraiture, where it’s about the face’s subtle power of expression. I’m talking about the use of faces as another visual piece of the total film, akin to the costuming or the landscapes. Look at Clark Gable in The Misfits. This is Gable’s last role, and in it you can make out phantom images of his past stardom. Gay, with his rambunctious youth soured into whiskey-drenched obsolescence, could be It Happened One Night‘s Pete Warne, 30 years down the line. And it’s all embedded in his dirty, cavernous visage. He looks just as tired and ready for the end as his poor dog, Tom Dooley, or the mustangs he’s rounding up. Gable’s face here is that of a once-handsome icon who’s teetering at the edge of death, and that real-world anguish gives the film additional gravity.

But Gable as Gay is just the most obvious example I saw of Huston using faces as crucial scenery. Really, every face in The Misfits is loaded in one way or another; just look at Perce – played by Montgomery Clift, a victim of ongoing tragedy – with his glassy stare from drunkenness and brain damage, his broken nose, all topped with an incongruous cowboy hat. Similarly, some of The Treasure of the Sierra Madre‘s effectiveness toward the end is inherent in Bogart, Holt, and W. Huston’s ragged, sand-swept faces. I’m not proposing this as the crux of visual artistry or acting in Huston’s films; rather, it’s just a curious method of harnessing actors’ appearances, of highlighting facial features with perhaps a caricaturist’s sensibilities. For further evidence, just see The Maltese Falcon‘s villains and how they’re shot: Peter Lorre, the egg-headed, bug-eyed puffball; Sidney Greenstreet, the eyebrow-raising, belly-patting Santa Claus; and Elisha Cook, the compact, long-faced hothead who never smiles.1

So in short, Huston’s depictions of human bodies had a slightly cartoonish quality to them, as if endeavoring to sum up personality traits through the right camera angle or simple gesture; he needed such forms of visual shorthand, because he made movies about ideas reified and in action.2 Tonally, Huston’s films strike an odd balance, coupling severe visions of mortality with the sense of boozy, mordant humor I described in my Treasure of the Sierra Madre piece. But even with this edge of humor, even in a film as jokey as Falcon, one pervasive attitude joins nearly all of Huston’s characters: desperation. This might be the most common thematic thread in Huston’s entire career, since rarely can I describe his characters’ actions or desires without terming them “desperate.” They’re frequently backed into financial or ethical corners and are scrambling to find any way out. Certainly this fits the whole food chain of The Asphalt Jungle, and it’s just this desperation, on the part of criminals and cops, that leads our protagonists to jail.

Or look at Billy in Fat City: he just wants one more opportunity, and he’s sure he can make it count. Ruben is desperate enough to spread hype about every one of his prospects, and struggles to believe it. Everyone in Stockdale is either frantically looking for a new dream, or else resigned to the fact that none of them will ever come true. With such thick fatalism, Huston’s films could easily turn dour if they weren’t leavened by the saving grace of dark humor – supplied, in this case, by the perpetually soused Oma.3 Ultimately, this omnipresent mood of desperation is a direct product of that persistent modernist/existentialist crisis of self-definition, of determining one’s own beliefs and values independent of any absolute authority. Because even at their most downtrodden, his characters are possessed of a raw, primordial energy; the question they’re desperate to resolve is, how to use that energy? And why?

Consider The Asphalt Jungle‘s famous quote, “Crime is just a left-handed form of human endeavor.” This is the underlying ethos I’m getting at: Huston’s characters have the potential to embark on these ambitious endeavors,4 but the issue is whether they’re right- or left-handed. Judging by these films, I get the sense that Huston saw human nature as capable of good or evil, but always driven by an innate compulsion to just act. These people can compete in the rodeo and boxing ring, despite defeat after defeat; they can dig and hunt and head down the river; they can stage massive, clever con games. These are all possibilities. The question is what personal, self-motivated beliefs guide these actions.

Some of these conclusions may be too broad, and some of my analysis might be wrong-headed, but these are the ideas I find at the core of Huston’s filmography. I’ll be interested to view more of his films and see how well they synch up with these theories. And so, since his films display a unified creative personality with a distinct vision of mankind, told cinematically with elements of a clear visual style, I believe – based on my understanding of the term, as used by Truffaut and Sarris – that John Huston is, in fact, an auteur. Thank you for reading my contributions to the John Huston Blogathon, and thanks to Adam of Icebox Movies for providing the spark that flamed into these analyses. Now get thee to a DVD player and watch The Asphalt Jungle, if you haven’t already.

1 I could happily go on supplying examples, but I’ll restrain myself outside of mentioning Sam Jaffe’s professorial benevolence and Sterling Hayden’s hulking presence in The Asphalt Jungle.

2 Given these conclusions, maybe it’s strangely fitting that Huston directed and starred in a segment of Casino Royale (1967), a film that took James Bond’s premise to nonsensical comic-book extremes.

3 However, the greatest embodiment of this kind of humor is Thelma Ritter in The Misfits; she served a similar role in films like Rear Window and, more sadly, Pickup on South Street.

4 Like criss-crossing the globe in search of a jewel-encrusted statue, or journeying into the wild to spend months digging for gold, or single-handedly taking down and tying up an angry stallion…

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The Avengers, Batman, and superhero auteurs

I don’t talk about film news that often, but there’s been a nexus of superhero movie headlines that I couldn’t ignore. Recently we’ve had both directors and release dates announced for The Avengers and Batman 3: Joss Whedon and May 2012 for the former; the returning Christopher Nolan and July 2012 for the latter. So, why don’t we ponder for a moment the ramifications of these announcements?

One big reason I usually don’t talk about film news is because there’s so much speculation and industry politics involved; to be honest, it gets pretty boring. I don’t especially care about the financial angle, and therefore tend to ignore Variety-style announcements about budgets and contracts and so on. But this is big news, on a cultural level. And it’s especially interesting because of the contrast between these huge, highly anticipated projects. Whedon’s Avengers movie will be the final result of a giant, corporate engine turning out a half-dozen superhero movies to set it up; it’ll be the full realization of Paramount/Marvel’s ambitions, and filmmaking on an epic scale.

Meanwhile, Nolan’s Dark Knight follow-up will still be the mainstream of a corporation, in this case Warner Bros. But it looks like it’ll be based much more in the decisions of creative individuals, namely Nolan and his screenwriter brother Jonathan. I might be oversimplifying how much of a binary this is, especially since I have no idea how much of an authorial imprint Whedon will leave. But this much I know: Whedon will be picking this project from where Jon Favreau, Louis Leterrier, Joe Johnston, and Kenneth Branagh left off. Nolan came in and revived a disgraced franchise through the strength of his talent and ideas. If you can’t tell, I find myself increasingly drawn to Christopher Nolan, and how well he’s maintained his creative integrity while directing big-budget action epics.

I’m not too well-acquainted with Whedon’s work, but the man’s admittedly a nerd deity and one-man sci-fi/horror empire. Still, I’m very curious about how this will translate into working on Marvel’s franchise-defining mega-project. To sum up: this news raises lots of questions about the place of the director in superhero movies. Questions that interest me as a fan both of superheroes and auteur cinema. Like comics, superhero movies have often been classified as below art simply by virtue of their subject matter, and I think Nolan’s helping to change that by taking Batman very seriously, and by giving his films the qualities you’d expect of any good/great movie. The Dark Knight had solid – sometimes extraordinary – performances, a labyrinthine narrative of anarchy and revenge, and some amount of thematic weight. This is the blockbuster action movie striving toward something higher.

So expectations are understandably high for Batman 3, as well as Nolan’s upcoming Inception. I’m skeptical about whether The Avengers will achieve similar crossover success, but anything could happen. Mainly I’m impressed by the sheer coordination necessary to get this project into the air. By the time it’s released, it’ll have 6 different feature-length origin stories behind it, so it’ll have a lot to live up to as well. And with such a huge, diverse ensemble… well, this movie should ample opportunity to become a sprawling chaotic mess. I won’t deny it: I love an enormous, well-told story. I love small, personal stories better, but I can’t resist something if it’s overwhelmingly huge, like the LOTR and Star Wars trilogies. Batman 3 will probably have a monopoly on intelligent, brooding superheroes in 2012. So come on, Whedon: dumb or not, impress me with a story so nerdy in flavor and epic in scope that I’ll have no choice but to enjoy it.

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