For All Mankind

For All Mankind is an extraordinary documentary that chronicles the Apollo missions. Director Al Reinert poured over endless amounts of NASA's archival footage to create one of the most inspiring and communal motion pictures ever made. I don't think I can fully articulate this film's invaluability to myself, film in general, or (seriously) mankind, so rather than write my own piece I have a link to an essay by Terrence Rafferty. Read it, have a listen to a bit of Brian Eno's fantastic soundtrack, and then seek out the film for your own viewing. You can watch the film on Criterion's site for a mere five dollars, and I strongly encourage it.

EDIT: I caved and decided to write my own, bad, piece on the film. But it expresses how I was feeling, so that is at least worthy. I am happy.

HAPPY

For All Mankind is an extraordinary chronicle of the Apollo missions. Director Al Reinert poured over endless amounts of NASA’s archival footage to create one of the most unique documentaries ever made. Unlike conventional docs, there are no talking head interviews or camera movement over still photographs. Video is entirely comprised of on location photography by NASA personnel and astronauts, voiced-over by the astronauts themselves. Footage from all the Apollo flights is spliced together to create the sensation of one epic, singular trip. This results in a technically fictitious series of events, but that’s filmmaking. The absence of subtitles to designate who is on-screen or who is speaking creates a humbling anonymity that trivializes the flags and initials emblazoned over the crew and equipment. These aren’t people, but humans.

Can I truly articulate this film’s invaluability? I have watched it every single day since my first viewing, and I can’t wait to watch it again tomorrow. To be there for Armstrong’s famous words, to cower at the terrible, explosive power of liftoff, like some infernal bullet fired from the depths of hell, or to simply marvel at Earth’s, my home’s, beauty. For All Mankind is representative not just of one of our greatest achievements, but of all humanity. You are unlikely to ever see a more inspiring or communal motion picture.

Whatever.

Whenever not epitomizing the role himself, Woody Allen has always found appropriate actors to portray his neurotic, obsessive, and pessimistic protagonists. I stress that Allen is the only one really fit for these roles because he is essentially playing himself, but John Cusack seemed to work alright, and now equally neurotic Larry David is giving it a shot, perhaps to better represent Allen’s age. On paper he seems a great fit. What have become known as the “Larry David moments” of Curb Your Enthusiasm could theoretically work well under Allen’s witful direction, but Whatever Works isn’t a film about Larry David moments, despite the actor’s declamatory presence. David’s deliveries feel forced, and his chemistry with the other actors is generally awkward, in such a way that it’s more like watching a screenplay than a movie.

However, I kept wondering whether or not this was intentional. Is the script supposed to feel so obtrusive? Jokes are obvious and by the climax the characters are all tidied up uncharacteristically neatly for an Allen film. David’s character, Boris Yelnikoff, even turns to the audience to deliver a denouement so no one is left behind. He actually breaks the fourth wall frequently throughout the film, each time the rest of the cast, interestingly, aware of his apparent soliloquies, yet unaware of us, the film-watchers. He must look insane, and maybe he is. Boris is frequently named and self-proclaimed a genius, but history has shown that the line between genius and insanity is a fine one. Maybe that’s why he’s such a misanthrope?

This is all too absurd to be taken seriously or at face value, so I’ll give Allen the benefit of the doubt and say he was being subversive. The point? No idea, so I’ll end this review in similar fashion:

Whatever Works? Well, it kind of does. Whatever works for you, Woody.

The Art of Winning

It is not often enough that Criterion releases a thoroughly American production such as this, so I took particular interest in Downhill Racer. A young Gene Hackman coaches an even younger Robert Redford and the USA Olympic Ski Team to victory, but at what cost? Redford’s protagonist, David Chappellet, is a prick: self-righteous and uncompromising in his quest for athletic admiration. Are these truly the qualities of a champion? Chapellet’s rise to the top is fragile. He is for the most part a pawn manipulated by Hackman, bent on realizing his dream of the States gaining acceptance on the global skiing scene. This fresh, if cynical take turns the typical American sports film on its head. The eventual and expected climax is totally unsatisfying, but this is the point. Shouldn’t winning feel good? Thanks to visceral photography and an uneasy tone (the beats are familiar, but it feels like laughing at a joke you know isn’t funny), Downhill Racer paints a gritty, realistic portrait of competition. How one plays the game ultimately doesn’t matter, it seems.

Good Criticism, and Anti to boot

this is one of the best video game reviews i have ever read, despite (and truthfully, as a result of) barely even mentioning the game in question. this is because that game, Halo 3, does not deserve to be talked about. as an artistic and meaningful experience, the article bitingly points out that Halo 3 "doesn't even try." Radosh's points are admittedly fundamental to people like myself, who are almost universally seen as radicals for our thoughts and opinions on game design, but to an outsider or a "gamer" as defined by the usual connotation, i think the article will be an eye-opening read

once you have read it, there are a few things i would like to expand upon. in addition to Halo 3 utterly failing artistically, it is equally unremarkable when viewed as the mindless entertainment that video games are often seen to be. as a game where the goal is to shoot things and not die, or more accurately, reach the end of the level, Halo 3 is in no structural way an evolution or even refinement of the systems present in classic shooting games like Galaga and Space Invaders. in fact, it is a regression if anything, because of its first-person perspective and three-dimensional environment. these attributes, while undoubtedly modern, are incredibly conflicting with Halo 3's base design and goals, which are archetypal at best

here's why

a multiplayer match Halo 3

in a shooting game, the number of enemies on screen, the direction from which they are coming, and their relative distance to the player character are all paramount to performance. Halo 3's design is inferior and inefficient in all of these areas when compared to more traditional examples of the genre. case in point: in a sidescroller on a two-dimensional plane, the player is not limited by point of view. the perspective is constant, and challenges are assessed and deduced immediately

two games which many people consider to be excellent 2D shooters, Ikaruga and Contra

the player is also unlimited in its projectile firing and aiming. many of these sidescrollers allow shooting in every direction, and though many still do not, the cardinal movement found in all 2D games allows for swift and precise changes in direction. this level of control is impossible in a first-person shooter due to perspective. the control shift to an aiming reticule rather than of a character is also arguably less interesting

these design conflicts are not found in all FPS games, though. perhaps the best example comes from Nintendo, who i am finding more and more to be the only ones really skilled at video game craft. they recognized these problems immediately when adapting their sidescrolling Metroid franchise into the third-dimension. the result, Metroid Prime, instead exemplifies 3D's strengths. it quite logically is less about shooting and aiming and more about exploration and immersion

showing the transition from 2D (Super Metroid) to 3D (Metroid Prime)

while it may not be apparent from these screenshots, the original Metroid Prime (the game has since been rereleased on the Wii with updated controls) did not allow direct control over the aiming reticule, like most FPS games. it instead relied on a Zelda-esque lock on system for aiming. whether or not this was ultimately the best approach is debatable, but it without question further exemplifies the series' staples of atmosphere and environment


the fact that first person shooters are by far the most popular genre in video games right now, and that very few developers have even a basic grasp of the ideal conditions of a shooting game, is quite troubling

This > That > Something Else

item This: Charlie Chaplin's City Lights and its famously ambivalent ending




item That: an equally ambivalent (if less heart-wrenching) ending in Woody Allen's Manhattan. emulation is afoot




item Something Else: the most famous and arguably best segment from Fantasia 2000 illustrates George Gershwin's performance of "Rhapsody in Blue" in classic Hirschfeld style. you can easily deduce the location






yes, that is the same piece that bookends Allen's film. these guys knew what they were doing

Reviewy Thingys

BIG-EARED ELEPHANTS ONLY

Some have called this film racist. I think they are misinterpreting. Yes there is a crow named Jim. Yes he and his gang are voiced by members of the all-black Hall Johnson Choir. No, this is not in any way racial derogation. If the fact that the crows are among the only human characters in the film (and I’m not talking anthropomorphism) isn’t enough to disprove the controversy, recall the tent-raising scene:

Dumbo, his mother, and the rest of the elephant troupe hammer stakes into the ground using their trunks. These images are intercut with African-American workers doing the same. Soon after, the circus master whips Mrs. Jumbo for crazed behavior, instigated by teasing directed at her son’s fantastically over-sized ears. The analog is obvious, and speaks volumes. Who are the slaves here? I won’t dwell on the fact that the chief bully’s own ears are quite large, but the hypocrisy is noted.

If anything this film is anti-racist. Prejudice conflicts with the film’s central theme; discovering and learning to love one’s uniqueness, to utilize one’s talents. This is a story of understanding and acceptance. To find any advocacy, let alone traces, of something so hateful, one would have to be looking, and have to be looking hard.

Dumbo is undoubtedly one of Disney’s great works, with its spectacularly simple approach (64 minutes running time, now that’s efficient storytelling) and its universal message. It is such a sadness that some adults seem to have complicated something so clear, something that any child wouldn’t give a second thought. I truly wonder who would benefit more.

IT'S ALIVE!

Now this is a film. A chilling and legitimately terrifying look at science and moral. Boris Karloff is famously tragic in an iconic performance, but the rest of the cast is no less great. Colin Clive in particular pores pathos as the mad Doctor. The expressionist photography (a wise choice, given the Easter-European setting) and gothic set-design give the film an unforgettable atmosphere. The art is moody; full of shadows and dark clouds, all seen at erratic angles. This must be how the monster perceives the world. Sure, it’s no Dr. Caligari – it’s something else. An American classic.

MUPPET MAGIC MINUS THE MUPPETS

A provoking fantasy adventure driven by Henson's puppet wizardry, here in full force. There are no human actors throughout the entire film, and the imaginative world of Thra is all the more enthralling because of it. Every expressive creature, every lush, lived-in locale was crafted by a master and physically, truthfully existed in front of a camera. The Dark Crystal will make you loathe the advent of the computer generated image.