Borat: Cultural Learnings of America for Make Benefit Glorious Nation of Kazakhstan (2006)

Borat takes some explaining. He is part performance artist and part practical joker, with some satire thrown in. It helps to start with Sasha Baron Cohen, the genius behind it all. Cohen is a British comedian who made his name on British TV by creating goofy characters and taking them out into real-world situations, where he made the brilliant discovery that people’s reactions to his characters were even funnier than the characters themselves. After a couple of successful years on BBC TV, however, Cohen’s game was played out in the U.K. Everyone there recognized him, so the joke was over. Fortunately, most people in the U.S. were still oblivious, which paved the way for HBO’s “Da Ali G Show.” This show featured Cohen doing interviews as one of three characters: a white, wannabe rapper named Ali G; a flaming Austrian fashion reporter named Bruno; or smelly, anti-Semitic Kazakh reporter Borat. The common thread was that the interviewees had no idea that the interview was a put-on. Cohen mined a deep vein of comedy in the reactions of American politicians, religious leaders, and celebrities to his outlandish questions.

Cohen first crossed over to the big screen with “Ali G Indahouse,” a mildly amusing scripted comedy that lacked the sparkle of his ambush interviews. I was relieved to learn that for the Borat movie he was returning to his roots, filming Borat mostly with non-actors who thought he was a real Kazakh reporter.

The Borat movie is loosely arranged around the premise that Borat is in the U.S. filming a documentary to be shown in Kazakhstan. While here he happens to catch a Baywatch rerun and falls completely in love with Pamela Anderson. This sets him off on a low-budget trip across the continent to find and marry her. Along the way he interacts with a number of regular people, who respond in various ways to his outrageous comments. In New York, most folks tell him to “F--- off.” People in the south are much more tolerant of his bizarre behavior, going to great lengths to be polite to him. I suspect this is why much of the film is set in the south. It also allows some of the southerners in the film to be unjustly stereotyped as racist.

Much has been made in the media about how Borat exposes people’s hidden racism, sexism, or homophobia, and to some extent he does. I think the point has become a bit overblown, however, and I disagree that his movie has single-handedly exposed some vast, dark underbelly of American society. There are certainly dark moments. When Borat tells a rodeo organizer that gays are hung from the gallows in Kazakhstan, the fellow replies, “That’s what we’re trying to get done here.” In another scene he hitches a ride with some criminally obnoxious frat boys whose misogyny and racism is truly disgusting. These guys are offensive, but if they are shocking, it is only to people from big, liberal cities. The rest of us have always known that these attitudes were out there. As for some of the other “shocking” scenes bandied about by the media, most of them just involve people trying to be polite to what they believe is a foreigner with limited English. When Borat asks a gun shop salesman “what kind of gun would be good to kill a Jew?” the clerk recommends a Glock. (A good choice for killing anybody who needs killing, in my opinion.) Many journalists have touted this scene as an example of anti-Semitism (and just what you would expect from someone in a gun store), but there is no actual endorsement of Borat’s comment on the part of the clerk. He is just being polite. Likewise, a car salesman doesn’t blink when Borat asks for a vehicle that will survive running into a group of Gypsies; he just leads Borat to a Hummer. These guys are SALESMEN, people. What would you have them do, start lecturing some foreigner about his racism?

As with the interviews on “Da Ali G Show,” the schtick in “Borat” sometimes falls a little flat. When Borat insults the looks of a preacher’s wife during a southern dinner party, I just felt sad for his victims. Most of the time, though, he had me chuckling, sometimes rolling, either at Borat’s antics (laughing derisively when a feminist suggests that women are equal to men) or his victims’ reactions (When Borat expresses his hope that George W. Bush will “drink the blood of every man, woman, and child in Iraq,” the dawning look of horror on the rodeo fans’ faces is priceless.) Even viewers too obtuse (or young) to get the more subtle aspects of this humor will find something to laugh at; the naked wrestling scene is classic, pants-wetting physical humor.

The tragedy of the “Borat” movie is that it is the funniest thing I saw this year, and it still isn’t as good as the “Ali G Show” Borat skits. It’s still worth the price of admission as long as you aren’t squeamish, and I am happy to see this brilliant comedian exposed (literally) to a wider audience.

4.5 stars

Beerfest (2006)

So you like beer and tits? Well, I’ve got the movie for you. “Beerfest,” the latest by Jay Chandrasekhar’s Broken Lizard Productions (“Super Troopers” “Club Dread”), explores the question of what would happen if grown men got to drink beer with a purpose. Imagine it; what if your family name and the pride of your country depended on your drinking lots of good, German beer with your buds. It’s the best male fantasy since that two women at the same time thing, and “Beerfest” takes us along for the ride.

Broken Lizard veterans Paul Soter and Eric Stolhanske are the Wolfhouse brothers, a couple of fun-lovin’, beer-drinkin’ fellas who trek to Germany to dispose of their grandfather’s ashes during Oktoberfest. There they discover that their grandfather is actually a bastard of the late Baron von Wolfhaus, and that their branch of the family is reviled for having stolen the von Wolfhaus family beer recipe. They are then humiliated in a drinking contest by their German cousins, barely escaping with an ass-kicking.

Once back in America, do the Wolfhouse boys just lick their wounds, get back to their lives, and say “good riddance” to the German side of the family? Heck no! With the clarity of men granted a purpose in life, they put together a drinking team and start training for next Oktoberfest so they can “Get sour on some Krauts!” Jay Chandrasekhar (as Barry Badrinath), Steve Lemme (as Fink), and Kevin Heffernan (as Landfill) round out beer-team USA. (The five team members also constitute the Broken Lizard acting team.) What commences is some seriously fun training. “Beerfest” really invites the audience in to enjoy the good times; I could almost taste every glass! Of course, the guys return to Germany for a big showdown, which is like a drinking-game Olympics. The film is very silly, but irresistibly fun.

Jay Chandrasekhar is doing with his Broken Lizard team something like what Christopher Guest (“Waiting for Guffman,” “Best in Show”) has done, using the same core group of actors in each film. So far, Broken Lizard has peaked with their 2001 cult classic “Super Troopers,” an endlessly quotable, uproariously funny police hijinks comedy. 2004’s “Club Dread” marked a serious step backwards for Broken Lizard, skating by with some mildly amusing Jimmy Buffet jokes and a handful of naked breasts. Fortunately, with “Beerfest” the boys seem to be back on track. This film isn’t nearly the classic that “Super Troopers” is, but it is a hilarious good time that allows these actors a chance to be the funny guys that they are. It also marks a promising return to form for Chandrasekhar and company, who reportedly have a “Super Troopers” sequel slated for 2008. Now that is something to live for!

4 stars.

Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith (2005)

I suppose I am the last person in the free world to see Episode 3, or at least the last person who is likely to. At this point, I figure everyone has either seen it or isn’t interested. Me, I loved the original 3 Star Wars movies. Not dress-up-and-stand-in-line loved, but would-re-watch-them-any-time loved. Basically I am a normal Star Wars fan, and it is a testament to how bad the first 2 episodes in the new series are that I just now got around to watching the final installment. After 2 movies filled with Jar-Jar and obnoxious incarnations of Anakin Skywalker, I just couldn’t be bothered. Finally I decided to slap the movie on my Netflix queue and find out how Anakin goes over to the dark side. Great move! I didn’t think it was possible, but this film actually redeems the series. It is the payoff we have been suffering for!

If you don’t already know the plot, don’t worry, I’m not going to ruin the surprise for you. All the big secrets are already obvious if you watched the first 2 episodes. Everyone knows that Anakin Skywalker will become Darth Vader and that Chancellor Palpatine looks an awful lot like the evil emperor from the original movies. More convoluted, but equally obvious, is that the rebellion staged by Count Dooku and the cyborg General Grievous is just a giant con job so that Palpatine can get the intergalactic Senate to grant him more emergency powers. In this episode the Jedi Council becomes ever more suspicious of Palpatine’s power grab, but they buy into the basic validity of the war. They hunt Count Dooku thinking he is the Dark Sith master, but they learn, too late, that he is just a puppet of the evil Palpatine.

If some of this seems to have eerie parallels to modern affairs, I don’t really think it is because George Lucas was trying to make a commentary on current politics. It’s just that every tyrant since the beginning of history has used a war to distract the populace and get people to give up their liberties. George W. Bush is just the latest in a long line, and far from the best at it.

As for Anakin’s slide to the dark side, Yoda pretty much foresaw it when he noted, “Much anger has this one.” It is Anakin’s passion that is his undoing, which makes it a shame that George Lucas didn’t cast an actor more capable of passion. I would envision an Anakin with a truly charming but mercurial personality; something like Leonardo DiCaprio in “Gangs of New York.” (Am I the first to suggest DiCaprio as an alternative to Hayden Christensen? I doubt it.) Christensen seems to have only two emotions: wounded pride and constipation. Anyway, this is a moot complaint, so I won’t belabor it.

As for the other actors, they face the same challenge they did in the first 2 episodes, which is that there is really too much plot and action going on for the actors to do much in the way of developing their characters. They do a little better in this episode. Obi Wan and Yoda get fleshed out a little more here, which really benefits the film. I was relieved to see Ewan McGregor get a chance to actually act, and of course there’s no such thing as too much Yoda. We also get to know Chancellor Palpatine, aka The Evil Emperor, better. Which is nice.

Episode III has the same killer special effects as the first 2 episodes, but the action is better because it is linked to a more comprehensible plot, and we actually get a chance to care about the characters this time. There are plenty of great light-saber fights, and we finally get to see the Evil Emperor show his stuff. The final Obi-Wan/Anakin face-off is stellar, with a truly chilling finale. The duel is especially resonant in light of the light-saber rematch that we know is coming in Episode IV.

To the extent that human emotions are allowed to exist in these films, it is the relationship between Obi-Wan Kenobi and Anakin Skywalker that ultimately drives Episode III and makes it worthwhile. By the end of this film, we have a much greater understanding of what drives old Ben Kenobi, the grizzled Jedi we first met in Episode IV (Star Wars) back in 1977. That film was subtitled “A New Hope,” and it is only now I can appreciate how much that hope must have meant to Obi-Wan. Luke Skywalker doesn’t just represent a chance to defeat the Empire, he embodies a second chance for the potential that Obi-Wan had seen and tried to nurture in Luke’s father, Anakin. I feel the same way about Episode III.

4 stars.

The Up Series (7 Up, 14Up, etc.) *****

In 1964, British television viewers were treated to a charming little documentary called “Seven Up!” The film featured interviews with several 7-year-old English children from a variety of backgrounds. Jackie is from a working class London family. She and her friends fantasize about what they would do with a lot of money, “say two pound.” Suzy comes from money, attending boarding school and spending her summers at her parents’ country estate. Tony is an East-Ender, barely understandable with his cockney accent. Nick lives on a farm, attending a one-room schoolhouse, while upper-crust Charles attends a posh boarding school. Symon, who is half-white/half-black, is in a children’s home because his mom can’t afford to keep him at home.

Despite its light-hearted tone, the film was clearly intended to serve as a reminder of how much class still matters in England. As 7-year-olds, these kids already bear the marks of their upbringing. The posh, boarding-school boys brag about their plans for prep school and Oxford, while Symon asks, “What’s University?”

As a stand-alone documentary, “Seven Up!” is enjoyable, but not something I would necessarily seek out. The extraordinary thing that makes this such essential viewing is that seven years later, Michael Apted, a member of the “Seven Up!” production team, revisited those children to see what they were like at age 14. The result is “7 Plus Seven,” a more serious look at life through the eyes of young adolescents. Seven years later, Apted returned to his then-21-year-old subjects for “21 Up,” and the series continues, with an update every seven years. Some of the original 14 children have dropped out over the years, opting not to appear in any more installments. On at least one occasion Apted has lost track of a subject, only to have them reappear in the next film. The resulting series is like a stop-motion film of several entire lives, allowing us to peek in at intervals for an intimate look at the changes that seven years have wrought on these individuals. The changes can be quite jarring at times, as these characters age visibly, have children, go through divorces, lose parents, and deal with illnesses. The eleven subjects who chose to continue appearing in the films discuss their lives with remarkable candor, even admitting to marital infidelity.

These films bring to mind a scientific concept called “observer effect,” which refers to the fact that measuring something may change it in some way. Sticking a thermometer in hot water allows you to measure the temperature, but it also cools the water slightly, because the thermometer absorbs a little heat. A wildlife photographer may change the behavior of the animals if they see or smell him, so his film may not reflect the true, natural behavior of the wildlife. Thus it is with the “Up” Series. After a few of the films, probably as early as “21 Up,” it becomes apparent that being in the films has had a measurable effect on these people. Some regret things they said in earlier programs. Others have made friends and enjoyed a certain celebrity as a result of the films. If nothing else, some of them just seem to take a more searching look at themselves and their lives than is common. It is no wonder that some of them chose to drop out. When Plato said that the unexamined life is not worth living, he didn’t mean it had to be examined by the whole world!

So far I have watched this series up to and including the “42 Up” installment. “49 Up” came out this year, and it is burning a hole in my Netflix qeue. I have mixed feelings about watching it, however. I just discovered these movies this year, and my wife and I spread them out over the last few months. We waited as long as we could stand it between films, but we always enjoyed the luxury of moving the next one to the top of our Netflix queue whenever we wanted. We may have to wait a few months for “49 Up,” but it isn’t long to wait to see these beloved characters seven years older. After that, though, we will no longer just be observers; we will be part of the experiment. When “56 Up” comes out, it won’t just be those characters who are farther along in life; I will be 7 years older as well. How will the Guy on the Couch view this series at the age of 41 compared to 34? I don’t know, but I can sure as hell wait to find out!

5 stars and counting.

Howl’s Moving Castle (2004)

Somehow I got the impression that this film was worth watching; I think “Entertainment Weekly” rated it highly. Just goes to show you can’t trust a movie critic whose publication is owned by Time-Warner.

The film is based on the book “Howl’s Moving Castle,” by Diana Wynne Jones. I haven’t read the book, but reviews suggest that the film retains the book’s spirit pretty well. If so, it makes sense that a Japanese filmmaker, Hayao Miyazaki (“Princess Mononoke”), was chosen to direct the animated film. Like every other animated Japanese movie I have seen, “Howl’s Moving Castle” evokes the reverence for nature, the disdain for war and weapons, and the complex characters that are the hallmark of Japanimation. Unfortunately, the film is also plagued by the bizarre, out-of-left-field mysticism and incomprehensible storyline that is also a hallmark of Japanese animation. Every film I have seen from this genre, from “Final Fantasy” to the beloved “Akira,” has been the same way. They start out well enough, with great animation, intriguing characters, and good action. Somewhere around the middle, though, these films veer off into storylines based on some sort of animistic magic that must make more sense to the Japanese than it does to me.

“Howl’s Moving Castle” is about Sophie, a sensible, serious girl who gets turned into an old woman by a spiteful witch. After the initial shock, Sophie takes this surprisingly well, with the droll observation that, “At least my clothes suit me now.” In her rickety new old body, she heads out into the wilderness in search of the infamous wizard Howl and his walking castle. She hopes that Howl (who never actually howls, by the way) will break her spell, but he ends up being such an emotional mess that she has to save him instead. Two kings are at war, and each demands Howl’s loyalty. Meanwhile, the Witch of the West, who cast that aging spell on Sophie, wants to literally steal Howl’s heart. Sophie tidies up the moving castle and helps the moody, androgynous Howl keep it together, while a fire demon named Calcifer (voiced by Billy Crystal) keeps the castle moving. The un-self-conscious Sophie is a perfect foil for the vain, but well-intentioned Howl (who maybe should have been named Cry or Whine).

“Howl’s Moving Castle” does have some things to recommend it: Billy Crystal’s Calcifer is amusing, and I really liked the Sophie character. The animation is beautiful, and the flying machines and moving castle looked really cool. Still, by the time the credits rolled, I felt like I had been ripped off. The movie is about 30 minutes too long, and that half hour is filled with mostly incomprehensible magic-related crap that fails to explain all the intriguing mysteries introduced earlier in the story. In the translation from an English book to a Japanese movie and back to English, some clarity was apparently lost.

Or maybe not. As I mentioned before, every animated Japanese movie I have seen seems to run into the same problem, getting mired in Earth-spirit mysticism that leaves me scratching my head. I’m sure some of this is just a cultural difference. We Americans tend to associate Japan with crowded cities and technology, but Japan is actually a naturally beautiful country, and a reverence for nature seems to be a part of the Japanese character. There also seems to be a romantic yearning in Japan for the feudal past, represented by the image of the noble Samurai. It helps to recall that the Japanese embraced industrialization only as a response to American military might (Anyone remember the Great White Fleet?). The Japanese attitude was also shaped by having two of their cities nuked in WWII, and this influence is seen in many of their films. I don’t know, though. I am hesitant to blame my problems with Japanese animation on Japanese culture, seeing as how I have thoroughly enjoyed live action Japanese movies like “Seven Samurai” and “Yojimbo.”

Whatever the reason, I don’t dig Japanimation, and I dug “Howl’s Moving Castle” less than most. Check it out if you want, but don’t come crying to me, and don’t ask me to explain the plot.

2 stars out of 5.

Friday Night Lights (2004)

Anyone who has been through Texas will recognize the landscape of Odessa, the setting for “Friday Night Lights.” The country is scrubby, dry, and flat, and human habitation there is necessary only because of the oil industry and maybe some farming. It takes this kind of desolation to drive people to follow high school sports, and in Odessa, TX the sport is football. Ratliff Stadium, the high school football venue, seats 19,500, and the population of Odessa is about 93,000. You do the math. In a state that loves its football, Odessa still stands out as a high school football town.
“Friday Night Lights” is based on the book of the same name by H.G. Bissinger, which follows the Permian High Panthers of Odessa and their run at the 1988 Texas state championship. The film is a dramatization of the events, but DVD interviews with the original players suggest that “Friday Night Lights” is very faithful to the actual events and people. Understand that this is not exactly an underdog story. Prior to 1988, the Panthers had already won 4 state titles and a national championship. In a town where the high school football stadium can seat 20% of the population, you can imagine that the coach and players feel a certain amount of pressure. That pressure only increases when their star running back, Boobie Miles (played by Derek Luke), blows out his knee, essentially ending his football career and presumably dashing the Panthers’ hopes for a big season. While the town vents its frustration on Coach Gary Gaines (Billy Bob Thornton), Gaines focuses on keeping the rest of his team together, bringing out the leading men in players who were accustomed to being Boobie Miles’s supporting cast.
In my opinion, sporting events are really rather trivial affairs, but sports movies have always succeeded in bringing out the drama in these seemingly unimportant games and lending gravitas to the outcomes. “Friday Night Lights” does not disappoint in the drama department, and you don’t have to be a football fan to wind up caring about the Permian High coach and players. Lead actors Billy Bob Thornton, Derek Luke, Garrett Hedlund, and Lucas Black deliver excellent, natural performances. Without being preachy, the younger actors make you feel the ridiculous pressure placed on these teenage athletes. As quarterback Mike Winchell (Lucas Black) puts it, “I don’t feel 17.”
This movie is also remarkable for one particular scene in which three of the players are out shooting skeet. In most Hollywood movies, generally made by liberal urbanites, you rarely see regular people target shooting, using a gun in self-defense, or just legally carrying a gun. If someone besides a cop, soldier, or criminal has a gun in a movie these days, you can pretty much bet that they will end up shooting their child with it or having some other horrible tragedy as a result. In “Friday Night Lights,” though, the shotgun doesn’t make another appearance. No one kills himself with it or uses it in a misguided bank robbery or anything. It’s pretty refreshing.
“Friday Night Lights” will not change the way you look at the world, or even football, but it is an extremely enjoyable, accessible film. You can’t go wrong with this one.
4 stars out of 5.

Trouble in Paradise (1932) *****

Looking for a classic, we once again dipped into Roger Ebert’s The Great Films, and came up with a wickedly funny, sexy, romantic comedy that puts to shame most of the romantic comedies made since. Released not long before the motion picture codes were put in place, “Trouble in Paradise” is frequently referred to as “sophisticated”. This is because it openly acknowledges things like sex between un-married couples, infidelity, and the fact that crime sometimes does pay.
Miriam Hopkins and Herbert Marshall play Lily and Gaston, a pair of thieves who meet up in an opening segment that exudes sex without being graphic. The story then jumps forward a few years, a period the two have apparently spent gallivanting around Europe, stealing for a living and living the good life. Their next potential victim, however, presents a new challenge to the pair. Madame Mariette Colet (Kay Francis), widowed heiress to a perfume dynasty, is beautiful and charming. She also turns out to be horny as hell, but un-tempted by the unsuitable suitors (Charles Ruggles and Edward Everett Horton) who hilariously vie for her hand. When she develops an interest in the smooth-talking Gaston, he can’t help but return the affection, and a classic Hollywood love triangle results.
“Trouble in Paradise” has crisp, clever dialogue that is a bit less affected and stage-like than that heard in many of the older movies. The cast is charming, and they are photographed beautifully. Charles Ruggles and Edward Horton in particular provide comedy that is second to none. In one hilarious scene, the two console themselves on losing Mariette Colet to Gaston (who is posing as her secretary), by discussing that he is the boring, reliable, secretarial type that women seem to go for (Neither of them knows, of course, that Gaston is a daring, international thief.)
Most folks in the film industry credit director Ernst Lubitsch with making this film the classic that it is. His famous “Lubitsch Touch” can be seen in the sophisticated wit and treatment of sexuality which makes this film age so well. Indeed some would say that modern times have not yet caught up with Lubitsch’s sophisticated treatment of sex and relationships. This is discussed in an excellent commentary by Peter Bogdanovich on the Criterion Collection DVD of “Trouble in Paradise,” which also contains an old Lubitsch silent film as a bonus. If you have the means, I highly recommend you pick one up.

5 stars.

The Third Man (1949) *****

Orson Welles once said that black-and-white film was the actor’s friend, and that there were no great performances in color. There have certainly been plenty of great performances in color since then, but it is easy, watching a gorgeous film like “The Third Man,” to see why Welles was so enamored of black-and-white. The crisp play of light and dark on the faces of the actors and on the streets and sewers of post-WWII Vienna makes this film just stunning.
Visual qualities aside, “The Third Man” is quintessential noir. Noir films typically portray a mostly-good man’s descent into a situation where he is surrounded by evil. The outlook is pointedly bleak, and the protagonists of noir films do not generally perform heroic acts to overcome evil. At best, they manage to avoid becoming evil themselves. The tension in a noir is primarily over whether or not the protagonist will lose his soul.
The protagonist in this movie is Holly Martins (Joseph Cotten), an American pulp writer who travels to Vienna to take a job with his friend, Harry Lime. Unfortunately, he arrives only to find that his friend is dead, accidentally run over by a truck. This is Vienna after WWII, occupied by Allied forces, with just the beginnings of Cold War tension starting to show. The bombed-out city is filled with soldiers, desperate citizens, and international types with shady motives, reminiscent of some of the characters in “Casablanca.” As Martins brushes up against these characters, he learns two things: 1) His friend Harry Lime was involved in the black market. 2) There is something fishy about Harry’s death. One witness says that two men carried Harry’s dying body out of the street, while another claims to have seen three men carrying the body. The mystery of that third man gives the film its title, and gives Holly Martins a reason to stay in Vienna. As he descends further into the heart of darkness, Martins falls for his late friend’s lover, the beautiful Anna (Alida Valli), and discovers that Harry’s crimes are much worse than he had imagined. Eventually Martin’s sense of right and wrong collides with his sense of loyalty to his friend.
“The Third Man” is, quite frankly, a perfect movie, as memorable for its small touches as for its big scenes. The famous chase scene in the sewers of Vienna is a triumph of cinematography, although interestingly enough, Orson Welles refused to shoot his parts in the sewer, so his shots had to be done on a set. Welles’s most memorable line, meant to justify his misdeeds, is a classic, “…in Italy for 30 years under the Borgias they had warfare, terror, murder, and bloodshed, but they produced Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, and the Renaissance. In Switzerland they had brotherly love - they had 500 years of democracy and peace, and what did that produce? The cuckoo clock.” One small touch that is very funny and revealing about the character of Holly Martins is that he constantly gets other people’s names wrong, but then is very indignant when someone does the same to him. Joseph Cotten delivers the complaint without irony, revealing the narcissism which is Martins’s biggest weakness.
I haven’t seen any other films by “Third Man” director Carol Reed, but I think it is safe to assume that this is among his best works. “The Third Man” is certainly one of Orson Welles’s greatest appearances, and the beautiful photography does justice to his pre-bloat years. For lovers of film, this is absolutely necessary viewing. I suggest moving it to the top of your Netflix queue. 5 stars.

Koyaanisqatsi

To understand this unusual film, it helps to start with the title. “Koyaanisqatsi” is a Hopi Indian term. Among its translations is “life out of balance,” or “a way of life that demands a different way of living.” “Koyaanisqatsi” came out in 1983, and became the first in a set of three films. “Powaqqatsi” (Life in Transformation) appeared in 1988, and Naqoyqatsi (Life as War) was released in 2002. I haven’t seen the other two, but I understand they are similar at least in style to the first film.
The movie begins with an image of an Indian pictograph, which morphs into footage of a rocket launch. Then there is aerial footage of various desert landscapes and other natural processes, which ultimately gives way to footage of human activities, including mining, traffic, urban crowd scenes, and a nuclear warhead detonation. All of this is set to music by composer Philip Glass. There is no dialog, plot, narration, or characters. To the extent that there is a story, it is created in your mind as you view the various scenes and think about how they connect to each other.
I watched “Koyaanisqatsi” on the recommendation of a friend, and I have to admit that for about the first third of the film I felt like I had been misdirected. While I liked the desert landscapes, the scenes felt long and slow, and the music isn’t really all that impressive. I wondered if maybe you had to be on drugs to watch “Koyaanisqatsi.” My wife came in to join me, and she made fun of the film a little bit. We both agreed that while the footage was interesting looking, we weren’t up for another hour of it. But then something happened. We somehow didn’t turn the movie off and go do something else. We just sat there and kept watching for about 20 minutes worth of time-lapse imagery of cars moving through city streets and freeways. We watched as thousands of people fast-forwarded their way through train and subway stations. As the camera picked out individual faces from city streets, we watched. We started out making fun of the movie, but by the end we were talking about how cool it was. With its strangely captivating images set to classical music, “Koyaanisqatsi” is “Baby Einstein” for adults!
Saturday Night Live once did a skit in which Mr. Rogers (of children’s show fame) interviews a blues musician. He asks the man, “When I hear you play your bass I think about sheep…. or candies, fresh little candies. What do you think about when you play?” The musician replies, “I mostly think about my financial situation.” To me, that is what defines good art. A good work of art stimulates the mind in such a way that different people will have varying responses to it. In that sense, “Koyaanisqatsi” is amazing. There are probably as many interpretations of this film as there have been viewers. Based on the title of the movie, I get the impression that director Godfrey Reggio wanted to make a statement about how the natural world is ordered and sedate, while the world of humans is adulterated, frantic, impersonal, and destructive. I had a somewhat different take on the meaning of the images, which is odd, because I would normally agree with that whole “natural world is better than human world” concept. As I watched the film, I was struck by how the natural images of landforms, clouds, and ocean waves all tended to repeat certain patterns, even though the individual elements moved independently. I believe this concept is the foundation of chaos theory. Not surprisingly, the scenes of human activity also showed patterns arising from chaos. Also, the human activities seemed to recreate patterns from nature. Explosions create fire and smoke patterns that are very similar to the movements of clouds, but faster. Freeway traffic looks very similar to footage I have seen of blood cells moving through our capillaries. As the band Love and Rockets pointed out, “Going against nature is part of nature, too.”
“Koyaanisqatsi” has plenty of explosions and car chases, yet I don’t think it will appeal to the Jerry Bruckheimer crowd. If you are patient enough to sit back and let the movie develop, however, it offers a unique, thought-provoking, and truly enjoyable movie experience.
4 out of 5.

Fast Times at Ridgemont High ****1/2

There are plenty of things that I think I know all about, but often when I go back and study them I realize how much I had missed. “Fast Times at Ridgemont High” is one of those movies that we’ve all seen a million times, but I realized the other night that I had never actually sat down to watch it from beginning to end. So I did, and wow! I’ve always liked the movie, but I never appreciated what an insightful look into teenage life it is.

For the five people in the free world who haven’t seen it, “Fast Times” is an ensemble movie that follows the stories of several high school kids. Brad Hamilton (Judge Reinhold) starts his senior year on top of the world, with a job, a car, and a girlfriend. He is a self-described “successful, single man,” but then he loses his job and his girl, and winds up spending the year bouncing from one crappy fast-food job to another. Mark ‘Rat’ Ratner (Brian Backer) is too shy to put the moves on his dream girl, Stacy Hamilton (Jennifer Jason Leigh). The guy is so awkward that he is hard to watch, probably because I can remember being that way myself. Meanwhile, his friend Damone (Robert Romanus) is too smooth (sort of) for his own good. Damone is hilarious with his swagger, his Brooklyn accent, and his bogus romantic advice: “When it comes to the making-out part, make sure the first side of Led Zeppelin IV is playing.” On the female side, Stacy (Rat’s dream girl) explores her newly discovered sexuality, heavily influenced by her friend Linda (Phoebe Cates), who is 15 going on 30 and pretends to know a lot more about sex than she does.

And then there’s Jeff Spicoli. What can I say about Spicoli that hasn’t already been said? Sean Penn inhabited this role completely, staying in character throughout filming. He created the prototypical surfer dude. Every stoner-surfer-California-goofball character since 1982 owes a debt to Spicoli. Having said that, fairness demands that we give credit where credit is due. The Spicoli arc in “Fast Times” would not be nearly as memorable were it not for the genius of Ray Walston as Mr. Hand. Serious, no-nonsense Mr. Hand is the perfect foil for happy-go-lucky Spicoli. In one great example of their dynamic, Spicoli has pizza delivered to himself in the middle of Mr. Hand’s class. Hand counters by commandeering the pizza and sharing it with the other students, even enjoying a slice himself.

As entertaining as he is, Spicoli is an outlier in this film, providing comic relief. His essence is a refusal to grow up. The main theme running through all the other character’s arcs is that they are growing up too fast. They are dealing with sex and its consequences, relationships, and careers on a level that is too old for them. That’s why “Fast Times” has aged so well; kids today are dealing with all the same stuff. “Fast Times” is far from a perfect movie, but I have come to appreciate its honest portrayal of high school kids. The characters are not idealized innocents or cynical sophisticates. With their bumbling horniness, delusions of grandeur, and lapses of conscience, the kids of Ridgemont High are very real.

Even if “Fast Times” were otherwise completely horrible, it would still be worth watching if only for one scene. Fellas, I think you know what I’m talking about. I’m not normally a believer in so-called “Intelligent Design,” but when Phoebe Cates climbs out of that pool, I know there’s a God! I don’t think water has dripped off a tastier water nymph before or since. (Well, maybe Denise Richards in “Wild Things.”)

Besides its actual content, “Fast Times” is famous for a couple of things. First is how the story came about. As the legend goes, Cameron Crowe posed as a high school student to research his story, which started as the novel “Fast Times at Ridgemont High.” He was then asked to adapt his novel into the screenplay for the film. All the characters are based on people he actually got to know in his classes. The film is also now seen as the starting point of a lot of great acting careers, much like the film “The Outsiders.” When director Amy Heckerling cast them, Judge Reinhold, Jennifer Jason Leigh, Phoebe Cates, Forest Whitaker (the school football star), Eric Stoltz (in a bit part), and Nicolas Cage (in a bit part, credited as Nicolas Coppola) were unknowns. Even Sean Penn was at the beginning of his career.

I think that the first couple of times I watched “Fast Times” I was a little put off by the tone. I recently read Roger Ebert’s old review of the film, and he hated it. I think he ran into the same problem I did. On the surface this film seems like it is going to be a straight-up comedy, maybe a teenage sex-romp. While much of it, especially the Spicoli scenes, is simply funny, many scenes blend humor with serious situations. Some of the scenes between Rat and Stacy are funny, but employ awkward silences which, as in the British TV show “The Office,” take a little getting used to. Others are just plain serious, as when Stacy has her second sexual encounter and is left, naked and vulnerable, by her embarrassed lover. It’s best to go into this movie expecting some serious content; otherwise those scenes can seem jarring.

Some consider “Fast Times” to be an “American Graffiti” for the ‘80’s. I’m not sure this is quite right, but I do think that “Fast Times” is built to last. Already the movie is almost 25 years old, and as timely as ever. If you haven’t seen it in a while, I suggest you watch it on DVD. Then watch the insightful and revealing commentary track with Cameron Crowe and Amy Heckerling.

4.5 stars out of 5.