Dogtooth (Kynodontas) d. Giorgos Lanthimos, Greece 2009.

This is a very peculiar film, in that while it has a fascinatingly disturbing premise, it seems to be full of unlikely outcomes and unexplained parts... but then, it's weird, so this is not necessarily a bad thing!

Telling the story of a few weeks in the life of a family headed by a patriarch so alarming (not that he seems it, especially) that he keeps his wife and grown-up children locked up at home and (the children at least) under the impression that the world outside isn't safe to go into because of cats(!), the film focuses on some of the psyhco-sexual affects of this bizarre set-up.

We see how the father decides that his son - though not, of course, his daughters - needs a woman from the world outside to satisfy his sexual needs. Inevitably, this doesn't turn out for the best, and her presence as well as the way in which one of the daughters manipulates her ends up contributing to some rather catostrophic events...

What IS weird is that this was billed as a comedy drama. There are certainly some amusing moments - but most of them are at the very least tinged with a slight horror at what's happening, and at the whole context of even the funny parts. Certainly I don't find the premise of keeping people entirely isolated from the outside world and, findamentally, fucking with their minds to ensure they stay that way, even remotely funny. 

One thing I found odd, too, is the notion that the three children (and presumably the fourth - if he ever existed - who's run away and been devoured by cats before the film starts) would look so squeaky clean and also have a vague sense of style. The girls also, it seems, shave their legs and armpits - and I dunno, it just really undermined the whole thing for me, as I'm just NOT convinced that even with their parents as role models, people would turn out like that if they lived in complete isolation. 

Also intrigued me that while they're not allowed to see TV or movies (just home movies), the older daughter seems to refer to at least three different ones... even though there's only ever any indication she's seen two. This added to the impression that we were seeing only part of the story - which, again, isn't necessarily a bad thing, but was a little confusing.

In many ways, while interesting, I wouldn't rush out to watch this: it's not really vry enjoyable - instead, it's a bit like the uneasy feeling you get from watching something like Funny Games, but less intelelctually rewarding, I think!

Winter's Bone (d. Debra Granik, USA 2010)

I saw this a couple of weeks ago, so my thoughts are hardly fresh... but it was one heck of a powerful film, so I thought it worth posting a few thoughts about, to encourage people to see it!

One aspect of it I really enjoyed was that while its subject matter and, to a great extent, also its setting is pretty depressing and relentlessly miserable, I felt it had quite a positive underbelly, and actually did see some hope and positivity in the limited but genuine choices people living in poverty (in the US, that is) get to make - if they embrace them as choices, and act decisively.

In essence, the film follows the struggles of a young woman already looking after her two younger siblings and sick mother; when her father skips bail, their home is under threat and she has to make some very hard decisions, and chooses to put her life at risk to help her family, and to try to figure out what has happened and how she can prevent her entire family's life from being torn apart.

It presents some really interesting and insightful representations of wider family relations, has some genuinely frightening moments, and, to my mind, in what it doesn't show - and in the brutish realism of its story - is far more unpleasant at times than slly nonsense of the Saw variety.

Particularly interesting is the way in which different ways in which women in the family units are shown: the setting of the film is a poor community that makes much of its money from manufacturing crystal meth - and has strictly hierarchical ways in which it defends its senior members from the long arm of the law.  It's hard to blog about it without ruining it for people who might want to watch it - but, in essence, it's worth watching, as its grimness is nicely countered, to my mind, by some beautiful filming, a not entirely gloomy outlook on what is, really, a rather gloomy life, and an impressive performance from its lead, Jennifer Lawrence.

I SPIT ON YOUR GRAVE remake?!

A friend gave me this link: http://jezebel.com/5594817/the-return-of-i-spit-on-your-graves-rape-and-revenge-fantasies#ixzz11Q9xj000

It's well worth a read... is about the remake of I Spit On Your Grave, the 1978 US rape-revenge flick written and directed by Meir Zarchi and starring Camille Keaton as Jennifer. As the article mentions, Carol J Clover's written about the film as more redeemable than many, but in general, the film's not really thought to promote a particularly pro-women, anti-rape agenda, as it titillates as much as it does anything else. I have a copy of it on my shelf, but haven't watched it for maybe a decade... but will watch it again some time soon, to see what I think of it now.

My gut reaction to the remake is that it will be a million times worse: the original is interesting, and is at best ambivalent in terms of its narrative (ifnot its imagery). I dread to think what the remake has done with any redeeming qualities it might have had. 

SURVEILLANCE, d. Jennifer Lynch, USA 2008

Directed and co-written by David Lynch's daughter, this is an unsurprisingly dark thriller with nice touches of comedy - especially in the first part of the film. Some of the characters are nicely drawn in a Twin Peaks like way, with the use of lighting and atmosphere adding substantially to dialogue and physical acting to give a sense of the weirdness in these "everyday" people. The Twin Peaks reference (or influence on) the film is furthered, too, by a plot which sets the action in a remote part of the US where the FBI have been sent to help out the local yokel police force with investigations into a homicidal duo who've appeared on their patch.

From the start of the movie, nothing feels quite right - there's an uneasy atmosphere which is again reminiscent of Lynch Senior's work, and a number of lines and ocurrences make viewers uncomfortable. On the downside, I too quickly figured out from whence this unease stems - as did the person who was watching the film with me. But despite getting it so early on, it was worth watching, and some of the performances were pretty good. (Pullman is great, although perhaps overdoes it a little at times. The young girl, Ryan Simpkins, who plays Stephanie, performs extremely well; she's measured and compelling to watch, which is especially impressive at the age of 7 or 8! Many of the cops are fun to watch, too...)

The film is promoted as being about FBI agents attempting to get the "real story" about an incident, faced with three witnesses who have radically different stories to tell, sort of a la Rashomon.  Weirdly, this is far from what the film actually is: the three witnesses's stories do differ in key ways from "the truth" (insofar as "the truth" is what we see in images that accompany and/or illustrate their words, foregrounding the dissonances between what they say and what actuall happened), but their stories do not massively from each other's versions of what happened - despite what the hype suggests. And in fact the way the film does play with those dissonances is far more interesting than a simple three-versions-of-the-same-story approach might be. It certainly allows for some genuinely comic moments (especially in respect of Bobbi (Pell James)'s recollections about her "job interview") - as well as at least one genuinely affecting moment of pathos (when we learn what truth Officer Jack Bennet (Kent Harper) is hiding).

But, disappointingly, the film goes down the all too well trodden road of - guess what - having female victims run screaming, while male victims get disposed of far more quickly, and without close-ups dwelling on their fear. This is disappointing not just because Lynch is a female writer-director from whom it wouldn't be unreasonable to expect a bit more thought and originality, but also because you'd hope her father might have warned her againt it - or at least to explore rather than simply replicate such filmic norms.

As it is, even in the opening sequence before the narrative proper begins, we're treated to a man being macheted in his bed, and then a lengthy sequence in which the camera chases a blood-covered, scantily-clad woman around her bedroom, out of the house, and along a road. Lovely. Later in the film, a similar dynamic recurs - as when male victims are granted a super-speedy demise, while females are given notice of their imminent murder, and the camera shows us their terror, accordingly. Dull dull dull. And just not very nice.

Moreover, doing something different - really different - might well have made this otherwise rather run-of-the-mill thriller more engaging, more interesting, and morenoteworthy. As it is, a twist and some good acting can't really make it more than what it is - a decent thriller with nice comic touches and plenty of atmosphere, but not a whole lot more.

The EXPENDABLES, d. and written by Sylvester Stallone, USA 2010.

Having been asked to write a general review of this for work, I dragged my boyfriend to see it at the cinema... and was pleasantly surprised to actually enjoy it! (My expectations were seriously low, mind, which may have helped!) For my money, this movie's major "problem" - and the one big reason it was slated by so many critics and mainstream movie-goers alike - is not that it's a bad movie, but that it's an action B movie with an A movie budget, marketing and - therefore - expectations. Result? A bunch of viewers and reviewers who don't know what the hell is going on, have only a very limited grasp of how B action movies "work", and so just don't get it. If you do get it, though, and are familiar with the B movie action genre, it's actually pretty fun, and makes an interesting contribution to the genre, at that.

The Expendables has some typical B action flick politics, especially in that while it's categorically not right wing in its (characters') outright rejection of the CIA agenda, it ultimately does in fact do precisely what the CIA wants it to do - that is, characteristially, to go into a small (invented) Central American island state and depose its evil dictator along with its even more evil (fabuloulsy played by Eric Roberts) CIA-man-gone-bad North American uber-villain who's exploiting the locals AND their General to get rich the North American way (i.e., by producing and exporting cocaine). Its politics are very odd, certainly - and, again unsurprisingly, caught up with its gender politics, too.

While it's fun to see Charisma Carpenter (you know, Cordelia in Buffy and Angel!) on the big screen, her character's hardly poster child for B movie feminism(!). Playing the women beloved of Jason Statham's character, Lee Christmas, she makes the mistake of starting to see another man when Christmas for the umpteenth time disappears for weeks on end, doesn't call, and won't tell her what he does for a living. Christmas is suitably new man about the whole thing - not shouting at her or bashing in her new beau's face, even though he's so cut up by being dumped that he actually (sort of) discusses his feelings with fellow mercenary, Barney Ross (Stallone). But guess what? Christmas keeps an eye on his ex, as he's concerned for her safety... and guess what, again? He's right. When he goes round, she has a black eye and a sad tale: Christmas was right, the new boyfriend beat her... which leads us seamlessly into a sequence in which Christmas hammers seven bells out of said boyfriend and his basketball-playing mates (in what is a superb fight sequence, I have to say. No complaints about that!). Bizarrely, though, having left the several grown men groaning on the ground, Christmas tells Lacy that now she knows what he does (she does? what, he beats up guys who punch their girlfriends? Is that what mercenaries do? Well er yes, actually, in this movie it is!)... and then tells her, in essence, that she was a fool for dumping him merely on the basis of his secretive ways and habit of disappearing without trace or warning for weeks on end because, as he puts it: "I'm not perfect. But you should've waited for me." Hmmm. Yeah right. Cos mercenaries who beat the crap out of people playing basketball make the best boyfriends.

Anyway, you can check out the basketball fight sequence here. It's about as fantastic as the gender politics of that whole sub-plot are not! http://www.imdb.com/video/imdb/vi1392379417/

While Lacy's important only in that her character fleshes out Christmas's angst (thereby fuelling his and Ross's heart to hearts and the audience's understanding of how it must be to be a mercenary), the female lead in The Expendables is not as entirely peripheral and at the service of male protagonist characterisation. In fact, Sandra (Giselle Itié) is pretty central, in that it's her choice not to leave the island when she has the chance - but to stay to try to help her fellow citizens - that puts the film's core plot in motion. (Of course one might read this as blaming her, then, for the imperialism of the mercenaries who "liberate" the fictional dictatorship of Vilena, but I don't think that quite works.)

While Sandra is represented in fairly typical B movie female character style (being saved at the last minute from rape, for instance, not to mention being devestatingly attractive and wearing flimsy clothes!) - and also serves as a narrative device through which Ross and his men can save their tarnished souls (especially in light of what Tool (Mickey Rourke) says in his strangely affecting speech), her character is not all weak and girly, nor is she established as a romantic interest, as such. Instead, Sandra's character in many ways serves the purpose that so many women do in action B movies - that is, she stands for many of the things that the protagonits of the films claim to be fighting for and to protect (freedom, family, that kind of thing). But the lack of originality in that respect is no bad thing: it's actually quite refreshing to see it in a mainstream movie, for a start - and I think The Expendables does a decent job, too, of having Sandra be an actual character, rather than simply (if also) a foil for the men in terms of plot dvelopment and some kind of moral justification for their violence and imperialist actions.

Other aspects of The Exendables are well worth discussion - not least the various representations of race and ethnicity, its interesting obsession with the concept of emotional trauma suffered by mercenaries (most amusingly dealt with by Randy Couture's character's repeated references to his psychotherapy), and its reflectiveness on how and why mercenaries do what they do, and how they are affected by their actions and their choices. None of this, though, is especially new territory for an action B movie - which The Expendables most avowedly is. (For me, the fact that Willis and Schwarzenegger make only brief cameo appearance and play characters who want to be seen to have nothing to do with what Ross and his men are being asked to do, is politically interesting, and also shows Stallone's insistence on the movie's status as a B movie that can, precisely, do without the presence of such mainstream stars...)

In the end, the film offers some interesting reflections on these aspects of male violence, then - and some interesting political machinations around when and why it is and is not "right" to interfere in another country's dilemma. But also, the best thing about The Expendables, as with so many of the films its characters both draw on andd develop, is ultimately its action sequences and its explosions. Because the truth is, Statham and Jet Li's amazing moves are far more impressive than even Stallone's reflections on masculinity and the toll violence takes on it.

DOG SOLDIERS, d. and written by Neil Marshall, 2002 UK.

For some reason I watched this last night, and remembered that one of the reasons I like it so much (given that I'm not all that big on werewolf flicks - except maybe An American Werewolf in London) is that its female lead seems to be devoid of a problematically gendered character - except, sadly, for one moment where she inexplicably (in terms of plot and characterization, nevermind the politics of the film!) spouts some weird crap about the main protagonist having a problem with women, and it being her "time of the month". All very bizarre (in a Ginger Snaps kind of a way), and wholly incongruous with the rest of the film. Hey ho.

Forgetting for a moment that bizarre moment in which the film undoes much of the feminist good it does for the duration(!), Dog Soldiers goes for decidedly (and apparently consciously) realistic gender representations which choose not to sexualise its attractive female lead, and to have a little fun with the boyishness of its mostly male cast. The cast is mostly male, by the way, because they're mostly soldiers - and soldiers are, in the UK, mostly men.

Interestingly, the director chose to cut sequences in which the soldiers comment on (or "discuss," if it could be called that) the physical attractiveness of Megan (Emma Cleasby), having already initially decided to dress her in a manner that seemed sensible given the wilds-of-Scotland setting and her status as a zoologist and Land Rover driving rescuer. This may not seem like such a big deal, but of course it is: it really isn't all that often that we get to see a female character in a horror film who's not inexplicably dressed in scanty garb, and who's not positioned as an object of the male gaze. But Megan is not. And that makes the film all the more convincing - as frankly, surely even squaddies obssessed with footie and the laydees wouldn't seriously be wanting to make moves on their rescuer when they're surrounded by a bloodthirsty pack of werewolves with no means of communicating their plight to the outside world, and stocks of ammunition running low? Of course they wouldn't! 

Although one of the two campers in the opening sequence is grabbed by a werewolf and her blood is splattered, there's no lengthy sequence where we watch her squirm or run in horror - and indeed, her boyfriend looks as scared as she does (understandably enough!). And given the almost all-male cast, it's then only men we see running scared - and we do see a few, chased down or sprung upon in the forest, and screaming for help. That said, we don't get the kind of drawn-out chase sequences so typical of female victims in horror flicks. Of course it could be said that this is because Dog Soldiers is not your typical horror, and also because it's set primarily in one house, it'd be odd (not to mention hard!) to have chase sequences. Plus what we do get is scenes in which the men are hiding in cupboards and frantic to escape - using spray cans and lighters in much the same way as the infamous "Final Girls" of slasher films have used coat hangers and the like before them. So there's plenty room for debate there: does the gender of the protagonists have much bearing on how their deaths and their fear is represented, or not?

All of the characters are shown as capable and brave (if to differing extents), and gender lines aren't really drawn. In the end, though, it is hard to avoid the fact that Megan betrays the men - and at the same moment refers to her female-ness in terms of being a "bitch" and having a menstrual cycle. I can't help thinking that the film lets itself down here, as the implication - deliberate or not - seems clearly to be that the men have ultimately suffered by failing to take note of Megan's "difference" and to be suspicious of her and her motives, accordingly.

This does undermine what is for me, otherwise, a really great British film. And it's not even just that the only woman in the end turns out to be the bad guy; it's more the fact that this is correlated with her female-ness in and through the dialogue. Such a shame. 

SALT, d. Phillip Noyce, USA 2010

Originally intended as a star vehicle for Tom Cruise, this is a film I'd never have bothered with had it not been re-worked to star Angelina Jolie... and then I only watched it because I like (some) action films and thought it might be interesting to see a mainstream action movie with a female lead. I was just hoping it wouldn't be anything along the terrible lines of the dismal Tomb Raider films.

Although the plot's tenuous basis in the notion of Russian sleeper agents put in place in the Cold War coming to life in 2010 is, frankly, ridiculous, the film certainly had its moments, and was fun to watch, and very well made in terms of editing, pace and structure. It had the pace and flow of skillfully edited and snappily scripted mainstream action films such as Speed and The Bourne Identity, and in fact had something of the Bourne Identity about it, too, in terms of characterisation and plot. Its twists and turns weren't entirely surprising, as with Bourne - but their basis in character rather than plot made them engaging and not entirely unconvincing(!), and anyway even when they seemed a little silly, the pace and impressive nature of the film's visuals kept laughter at bay!

What interested me most was the way in which Jolie was shot as well as characterised: for a start, it was refreshing not to have the endless close-ups typical of a Cruise star vehicle (does the man's egoism know no bounds?), and it was also refreshing and a huge relief to have Jolie shot and costumed not to make a spectacle of her femininity, but as many action stars are - as an impressive and attractive individual, whose physical prowess we can enjoy and admire even when he or she is fully clothed, and even in disguise! Jolie in fact stayed more clothed than many a male action star, and wore clothes with some basis in reality, which made her look stylish and active, rather than like a chest on legs (a la Tomb Raider). This was good to see - as was the impressive and convincing fight choreography, which was not only visually great, but took on board Jolie's comparative lightness, choreographing moves that someone of her height and build might actually need to employ in order to deliver, for instance, an effective kick. With her building momentum by using walls and spin, the overall effect was convincing and flashy, too - evoking The Matrix in its use of overcoats, at times!

Interestingly, it's reported that Jolie refused to have her character written as the mother of a child, as was in the original script for a male lead: she argued - persuavively, I think - that while a CIA operative might well be convinced to put a spouse at risk, as evidenced as a concern in Salt, she would not do the same to a child - as a child cannot make the same choice as a partner can, to be part of a spy's life. The fact that Salt (Jolie) and her future spouse are seen - if very briefly - to discuss the fact that a life together will involve risks for him rings true, too, and makes the events of the film, and Salt's responses to them, more convincingly established in the story world (whether or not one thinks that world has much to do with the reality of the CIA at all!).

Overall, Salt gives the impression of not overly sexualising its protagonist, and not having its plot revolve around her female-ness any more than many mainstream actioners revolvea round the male-ness of their protagonists. Of course nothing is that simple - and in NOT visually emphasising her female-ness in an overtly sexalised way, the film in many ways differs from other action films, precisely as it shies away from such imagery, whereas many action films that star men of course, do not! This in itself is interesting, of course - and points to some of the issues surrounding the difficulties for a (male, perhaps especially) director wanting to direct a female lead in a male-dominated genre, especialyl where director and star alike seem not to want to over(t)ly sexualise the star. The pay off is, to my mind, an effective piece of action cinema attractive to many viewers - and less off-putting than many action films in its portrayal of women, for sure. On the downside, I imagine Salt might well have done better at the Box Office had it sexualised its star as much as the camerawork and costuming of male-lead action vehicles so often do.

Landlocked Film Festival, Iowa City, August 2010

Even though this festival presented a really good range of films - many centred in or around Iowa, or on Iowan filmmakers, but definitely not all - there were, as is is often the way, really not that many in the programme by women. This, of course, is hardly the "fault" of the festival programmers alone (as they chose a very diverse set of films), but reflects the fact that filmmaking remains somewhat dominated by men - even, it seems, in more independent arenas such as those highlighted by this rather fabulous festival, now in its fourth year.

One set of shorts offered two films by one female filmmaker, Pat Atkinson. The first, One Bullet (USA, 2010), is an interesting look at what we are willing to do for someone we love - and perhaps wouldn't seem to comment on gender as such, were it not for the programming of it alongide the next film by Atkinson, Trophy Wife (USA, 2010). In that short, a taxidermy enthusiast with a mean streak handles his dissatisfaction with his wife in a predictably but nonetheless horrifyingly unpleasant manner. Trophy Wife therefore comments on the role of wives and their treatment at the hands of violent men, while One Bullet takes a look at self-sacrifice in a different, less clear context.

I the same programme was a longer short(!) entitled Clemency. Directed by Joseph Albanese (USA, 2009), this was I think by far the most well made film I saw at the festival. Again, I don't want to ruin it by setting out what happens, but suffice to say that it's no loss if you get a chance to see it, to know that it involves a serial killer's torture of two women. What is interesting to me is how it comments on what the State is willing to forgive, and how the film is located in the context of how films show men and women being chased and/or murdered in different ways. It's certainly interesting to watch a short like this in tthe context of mainstream film's tendency to focus on women's terror and fear (close-ups of their faces when they're afraid/about to die, for instance, as well as the tendency to show extended sequences of them before they die, as opposed to having male characters killed without such precursive imagery, or off-screen, etc.). And this is often, of coure, what is interesting about short films - how they comment and interact with mainstream films of the same genre, for instance, and how far they can (or cannot) do things differently.

I think my favourite film of the festival, though, was about a little chicken who was giving its excuse for being a little bit late for school. It was called Kidnap, and made by Sijia Luo(USA, 2009). I liked that I couldn't tell if the said chicken was male or female, for a start. (That said, I doggedly refuse to believe that Road Runner is necessarily male, so maybe it's just me? LOL.) But mosty I just loved the essential idea that the chicken was kidnapped muliple times - even by aliens - and that THAT is why s/he was late. It was just so sweet and engaging, and so devoid of gender representation, which is always good!

That said, a short from the same programme, Damsel Distressed (d. Tiffany Schmidt, USA, 2010), DID have some cool gender stuff, but managed to still be very sweet and popular with the children in the audience. In a nice combination of live action and drawn animation, it plays a little with gender stereotypes, without being too heavy-handed.

The end of The Piano, Part 2!

Following some interesting feedback on facebook, I thought I should comment on the shots of Ada under the sea right at the end of the film, too.

For me, this is one of (at least) three alternative endings - i.e., that she in fact died when she chose to follow her piano under the sea. However, in terms of my reading of the film, I see it as one of the (two) imagined - or fantasy - endings the film offers us, after Ada in fact dies at the hands of her angry husband. That is, this image offers us perhaps Ada's preferred ending, while the images of Ada, Baines and Flora happy together in a new city offer us an alternative ending that is perhaps what Baines, Flora and/or mainstream narrative film might prefer.

The Piano, d. Jane Campion, Australia/NZ/France, 1993

There's a huge amount to write about this film, from a feminist perspective as much as any other – although it does, of course, lend itself to feminist analysis precisely because of the way it (deliberately, if we're allowing the writer-director some agency!) deconstructs and plays overtly as well as more subtly with norms and conventions of mainstream narrative film (which, it turns out, is as patriarchal, phallocentric and objectifying of women as much of the rest of popular culture and society more generally).

Some of the most inventive and interesting examples of how The Piano (and/as Campion and her editor, Veronika Jenet, and cinematographer, Stuart Dryburgh) plays with and undermines the established norms of narrative cinema that serve to further what Laura Mulvey famously theorised as the “male gaze”.Jaime Bihlmyer sets out some of these in a great article that was I think published in Cinema Journal, and one of the neatest is the way in which the film frustrates the "male gaze" early on: when Ada McGrath (the film's protagonist, played by Holly Hunter) and Alisdair Stewart (Sam Neill) pose for a wedding photo, he looks through the viewfinder to frame/capture Ada, but the film's not interested in eyeline matching or any such nonsense. Similarly, Ada stares at the viewer at least once, and there are other playful moments... and then there's the whole refusal of Ada to speak, that is to engage in language, which has itself been theorisied as a patriarchal form. (For those who know, this relates to the notion that language acquisition is related to the realm of the Symbolic, and is part of acculturation, while the pre-language stage is also associated with "the Mother" and with not (yet) being part of society... Ada's refusal to speak, then, is a crucial aspect of her refusal to comply with social norms, and of her defiance of patriarchy.)

One thing that's always interested me, especially in respect of whether Ada's resistance to patriarchy is in fact broken down (or, for that matter, partially given up voluntarily, due to her relationship with Baines [Harvey Keitel]), is the end of the film. Bihlmeyer among others has theorised that the last few short scenes are in fact in Ada's – and/or the film's – imagination; that in fact Ada does not “choose life,” but dies in the ocean where she throws herself along with her piano. On successive viewings of the film – and after discussing it several times with various groups of students, too – I thought this a very convincing reading. However, especially after considering the film's evident relationship with and to the fairy tale, or fable, of “Bluebeard,” my reading is actually that Ada does far earlier – in fact, as a result of Stewart's violent act against her with the axe (mirroring Bluebeard's violence against his wives who failed to do his bidding).

This first crossed my mind because when the boat leaves at the end, with Baines, Ada and her daughter, Flora (Anna Paquin) as well as the piano, it looks to me like a funeral boat, and the Maori song that accompanies it also seems funereal. I also felt that Ada looks ghostly, just not-of-this-world as we see her leave the house... I also found it odd that Ada would (a) be permitted to leave with Baines as she does, and (b) that she would want to (much as I like the character of Baines, and agree with readings of his character s being quite sympathetic to “feminism”). When I then read analyses that suggest the final few shots (of Ada and Baines in their new home, of Ada's new finger fashioned from metal, and of Flora doing cartwheels on the lawn) were fantasy rather than a “real” ending, and that Ada had died in the sea, I felt more sure that she in fact died earlier.

To me, her death at the hands of Alisdair makes sense (sadly), especially as the film is in many ways a re-write, an adaptation, or what-you-will, of the Bluebeard story. However, of course in Bluebeard, one young wife does manage to escape – so this too works if a viewer refuses the reading that Ada dies/is killed by Alisdair. The point is, The Piano is a film – and despite its Oscars success, a pretty non-traditional narrative one – so multiple readings and multiple possibilities for what “really” happened are entirely possible, and can work alongside each other, without disproving or proving one is “right” or “wrong”.

But for me, even though Baines is an attractive character, and even though Ada seems strong in her fight against social norms, I think that the ending the film nominally – or, superficially – offers, that is, of Ada and Baines living together “happily ever after” is a self-conscious fantasy, and not the “real” ending. I think that Ada would “choose life” were she allowed to make the choice, but for me the reality of the film is that she was not allowed that choice, because her resistance was too much for Alisdair to bear, and for that she died.

Spirited Warrior (d. Panna Rittikrai, Thailand 2001).

Just a short comment on this weird Thai action film!

I rented it because it "introduces" Tony Jaa as an actor, and he is amazing... anyway, it's one of the strangest martial arts films I've ever seen (and I've seen very many!)... it's pretty cool, but displays a peculiarly horrifying mix of racial and gender stereotypes alongside some seemingly far less offesnive images! I guess it's a case of trying to get away with stereotypes simply by also having non (or at least less, or less negatively)-stereotypical characters?

Interesting, though, as it has a female Japanese character who's great at fighting... well, until the final scene, of course. Then she's a bit less good, and conveniently saved by a man who#s handily suddenly better at fighting than she is. *rolls eyes*

Anyway, the most disturbing thing about it is the character named "Mute", who is - you guessed it - unable to speak (although not actually mute, somewhat bewilderingly). Anyone out there writing on terrible representations of the "disabled"? This is a film you have to see!!!

Skeletons (d. Nick Whitfield, UK 2010).

This is the film that Christopher Nolan nicked the idea for Inception from, it seems!* The difference is, it is utterly intelligent, doesn't treat its viewers like dimwits, and has a sharp comedic edge that belies its generous spirit and thought-provoking nature.

The "skeletons" of the title are those found in closets, and the film does a neat job of unpacking human desires and relationships without losing sight of narrative coherence and the fact that it's a film. The writer-director, Nick Whitfield, along with the editor, Rachel Tunnard, appeared at a Q&A session after tonight's screening of the film at Sheffield's Showroom, and it was clear why the film is such a success: more interested in the complexities of everyday human life than showing how clever they are, and with a desire to work with the camera rather than with SFX, the pair answered questions in a genuine, often entertainingly deadpan manner, and revealed much of the thoughtfulness that's gone into making this film.

The film's central duo are blokes - the comedy double act, Andrew Buckley and Ed Gaughan - and the women in the film play roles of wives and daughters. But they are real people - all of them - and Jane (played by the remarkable Paprika Steen, of Festen "fame") is a "crazy lady" who for me is a fabulous antithesis of (and antidote to) female characters like that of Mal in Inception. Her eccentricity is real, but also understandable, as is her response to it - not melodramatic, and not sexualised. The relationships between the characters, too, show much more depth and variety than those displayed in so many films - never reverting to boy-meets-girl shmultz or even typical, uninteresting patterns. This is all the more remarkable given that the film does, as the director freely admits, have a "neat ending" and ties things up in a way that even Hollywood might allow. (Indeed, the film's been a hit with US film festival audiences.) But what is so refreshing is its avoidance of cliche and stereotypically lazy ploys to achieve that almost happy ending. Instead, despite the fantastic premise and sense of other-worldliness that pervades the film, it achieves an eerily realistic portrayal of a bunch of vaguely surreal but weirdly engaging people, and manages to avoid stereotyping or typically problematic representations of gender (as well as class, among other things), while not being blind to gender issues such as being a wife, and how defining that can - but does not have to - be.

And as I read through what I've written, I realise that not only is Steen's Jane something of an antodote to the femme fatale of Inception and elsewhere, but so is the younger female protagonist of Skeletons - Jane's daughter, Rebecca - something of an antidote to the tiny, very-young-looking Ariadne in Inception. (Rebecca's played by Tuppence Middleton, and yes that's really her name). A young adult who looks her age - pretty and sexy without being infantalised and over-sexualised - Rebecca's role is one of the most interesting for a young woman in film I've seen in a long time. Again, it doesn't deny the social realities of what shapes women-as-daughters and their place in/relationship to the world around them (especially men), but it problematises it and ends at a quite positive place - again, without recourse to romance or melodrama, thank goodness!

It's hard to write too much more about this film without using spoilers affecting both it and Inception, so they might be best revisited after more people've had a chance to see them. And I really would recommend you see Skeletons. It's brilliantly made, highly enjoyable, really very funny as well as with its own degree of pathos, and has some excellent acting, too - with Jason Isaacs in a great role, too, that I'd not previously mentioned. (Interesting, too, is the way his role as "the Colonel" has a similar aspect to it - but less harsh - as that of West and his men in 28 Days Later, as it happens..!). Anyway, go see it. It's just lovely!

Here's a link to the trailer: http://www.skeletonsthemovie.com/videos/  (at the film's official site: http://www.skeletonsthemovie.com/)

*The core idea of Skeletons - very similar to that of Inception - was contained in two of Whitfield's short films, also starring Buckley and Gaughan...

Inception (d. Christopher Nolan, USA 2010)

Oh dear. So much potential in this film, but so veeeeery looooooong!!! 

It brought up an interesting point, though. Very many films - especially those made in the US while the Hayes Production Code was in its heyday - operate to set up quite radically anti-establishment narratives that are then supposedly undone by an ending that shows the bad guy or gal getting his or her just desserts. So, for instance, sluts die, and men drawn into criminal behaviour by avarice or lust, also tend to die (or at least go to prison) - despite having a grand old time of it for the first 90 minutes of the film... The received wisdom is, of course, that the imagery and idea that stays with viewers is of the "bad" stuff (which is usally fun and sexy and alluring), rather than of the tacked-on ending involving jail or death.

What's my point? Read on. (But don't, in fact, read on unless you've either already watched Inception, don't mind spoilers, or had someone else ruin it for you before now, lol.)

My point is that Inception does this sort of thing, but in reverse. In particular, it spends most of its 148 minutes (count 'em!) setting up the protagonist's dead wife as a Bad Evil Crazy Woman, but then at the end does a speedy turnaround twist thingy that reveals that it was All His Fault, and that the crazy lady wasn't in control of her own mind, because it was HIM who placed the crazy idea in it in the first place.

Hmmmm. 

On some level, I was relieved: at least the film wasn't too trite and unthinking in its representation of a femme fatale as a crazy woman who was causing awful suffering for her still-alive husband and many others. But then again, the overwhelming representation the film leaves you with is of just that - and not, sadly, of a woman horribly fucked over and lead to suicide by her idiot husband planting thoughts in her mind.

Also, while the film has its good points, do we ever actually care whether Leo's character gets back to his kids? More importantly, since they appear to have by all of a week since he last saw them, why's he so angst-ridden anyway?

28 Days Later (d. Danny Boyle, UK 2002).

I saw this film when it came out, and also just last week on late night Channel 4. This time I found it a bit more interesting, as I wondered whether the look on Jim (Cillian Murphy)'s face when he realises what the army personnel have in mind for Selena (Naomie Harris) and Hannah (Megan Burns) after their perilous trip to meet up with their fellow "survivors".

From a feminist perspective, this film is confusing, to say the least. On a superficial level - that may not be so superficial! - it's arguably quite reactionary, given that Selena starts out aggressive and effective, able to do what Jim cannot (kill the infected, and be physically as well as mentally strong), but after taking on a "mother" role to Hannah, seems to almost entirely lose her edge, capitualting to the men's advances, donning an evening dress, and not fighting back once she thinks Jim is lost to her and Hannah. 

Obviously, on a practical level, Selena's not wrong: she simply can't fight back effectively against armed men - however weak their command and their minds at this point - at least, not without the likely result of death or even worse treatment for her and Hannah, her charge. And of course she doesn't capitulate entirely - as she cunningly gets the men to leave her alone with Hannah so she can at least give the young girl drugs to make her at that point inevitable rape be less traumatising. Still, this is not reality, it's a film - and the choices made, the images shown, do undermine Selena's initially strong role, whether or not the film manages to offer a reading whereby these changes do not undermine the positive way in which it's represented Selena earlier in the film.

Of course on many levels, Selena does not lose her edge. She is simpyl doing what she can to stay alive - and her desire to help Hannah (and Jim) rather than only herself can be read not (simply) as a capitulation to patriarchy's imposition of the role of mother/partner, but as her own personal development away from total individuality towards the realisation that she needs other people, and to care about other people, if she is to truly survive the unnamed virus and its affects. And of course this is interesting because her realisation that she needs other people is not based on the same warped version of that same realisation that Major Henry West (Eccleston) and his ragtag group of men have. They, of course, use the "excuse" of the virus to legitimise rape (as a necessity to reproduction, as well as to their own desires in a world that's been devoid of women to them for all of a month or two). This is the true horror of the film - far worse, because of the way it's focused upon, personalised and foregrounded, than the virus itself.

And this is confusing - as well as confused. Is rape worse than death? No (as Selena seems to acknowledge by the choices she makes... but I'm not sure what the film's view is.) Is the horrific and unnecesarily violent way in which West's men behave more horrific than millions dying violent deaths as a result of a virus? No. So what is the film saying? Well, lots of things, I think. It's saying that people often react in unpleasant, violent ways to disaster and the fear of death: Selena responds, initially, by killing any threat - even people she cares for - "in a heartbeat", and by avoiding emtotional attachment. West and his men react by being violent towards the victims of the virus (as displayed in the sequence where they blow up the Infected who try to get into their compound on a nightly basis), and towards those who have escaped the virus - including to the two men not convinced that raping a woman and girl is the answer to the problem. There are parallels here, of course, but also vast differences. The most obvious being that Selena realises her error, and develops feelings for people - while West and his men are agents of their own demise by failing to treat not just Selena and Hannah, but also Jim and many others, as human and deserving of respect.

Still the problem remains, does Selena's status as a woman over-define her response to the situation the group fid themself in, and is this unsatisying from a feminist point of view? Why, in simple terms, is it Jim who manages to kill soldiers with his bare hands and facilitate Selena and Hannah's escape? Why doesn't Selena manage it, as she's previously been the killing machine, while Jim's balked at the prospect of killing even the Infected, and is haunted by having killed just one Infected boy? Why, too, is Jim able to not only find the strength to kill the Infected, but also people who're still free from the virus? Again, I'm not asking this in some psychological sense, as if the characters in the film are "real" - because we all know why that might be: Jim is horrified at what has become of West and his men, and even more horrified at what they're planning to do to Selena and Hannah. He has little choice, in the narrative trajectory of the film, but to work to prevent it. And he does. Similarly, Selena's hands are tied, the narrative argues, as she has to look after Hannah as well as herself, and do the best she can in a situation where she's faced with armed men and has no weapon of her own. Fine. But the choice is still the filmmakers' - and does it have to be Selena who cares for Hannah, while Jim finds himself to be something of a Rambo figure, when push comes to shove?

I'm undecided. And while the imagery of the patriarchal family offered by this film's ending (Jim as father, Selena as mother, Hannah as child) is not attractive to me, this doesn't mean that the feelings it evokes - and an audience's appreciation of how and why Selena and Jim act as they do - aren't both understandable and engaging. The fact, too, that the film offers an alternative ending, shows perhaps that the film itself (the filmmakers, whatever) is not sure of its own ideological ground, and how happy it is to show this nuclear family as the "happy ending"?

Another way to look at the film more positively in feminist terms, too, is to think of Jim as a quite feminist figure. For a start, he's not prone to violence, and does tend towards wanting to help people and be with them, rather than accepting Selena's somewhat "masculine" (if understandable!) approach of killing everything and rejecting human closeness. He's not aggresive, but is active - and respects Selena's desire to keep to herself, as well as Frank (Brendan Gleeson) and Hannah's close parent-child relationship. He is only, in fact, driven to violence first when his life is directly in danger from the Infected boy at the garage, and then when he sees the threat that Selena and Hannah are under. And what is interesting is that his interest in protecting Selena and Hannah does not seem (to me) to be proprietary in nature: his interest is not in keeping Selena for himself, that is, but in stopping the horrific behaviour of the other men because it is horrific. He cannot stand to see the autonomy of others violated - and is willing to do anything to stop it. He cannot believe that men would stoop so low - and in stopping it, is willing to reject his less agressive nature, and to take on the men at their own aggressive game.

None of these points have simple answers, and many raise further questions. This film is not "feminist" in any clear way, but it does have elements that make it more feminist - or, at least, open to feminist readings - than very many others, and does appear not to confuse being feminist with simply not wanting women to be raped! For these reasons I think it's an interesting film from a feminist perspective. Its sense that some men's behaviour in the face of human disaster - where those men are soldiers, and thereby obvious representatives of patriarchy - is worse than or as bad as the disaster itself (in that it's morally reprehensible, which a virus is not), is worth considering, and it's not insignificant that the soldiers' worst crimes are planned against women. The pervasiveness and horror of patriarchy is displayed in 28 Days Later, whether or not this is its goal, and whether or not you read it as a feminist film, or as very far from it.

 

feminist films, or feminist reviews?

Well, since there aren't nearly enough feminist films out there to support a blog, the emphasis is on the reviewing, I'm afraid! A writer by trade, and a film sholar too, my aim is to try to write down some thoughts about films I see - old or new, fab or faux - with an eye to their gender politics and whether or not they might be considered feminist, misogynist, or somewhere in between! It may not sound so thrilling, but really it might be. Especially if there's the odd debate, and the odd oddity.

First I'm going to ponder on what I think about 28 Days Later - a film I re-watched for the first time the other night, and which go me thinking. And isn't that what blogs work with? Thoughts.