Counting Down the Zeroes 2001: Black Hawk Down
Film for the Soul has been counting down the zeroes (or chronicling the noughties as his website informs you) and I'm honored to participate in this wonderful exercise. We're on to 2001, now, so if you haven't seen the 2000 pieces yet, then head on over to this blog, where all of the reviews for 2000 have been archived. Here is my review I'm submitting this week for Ridley Scott's underappreciated action masterpiece Black Hawk Down. Go over and pay a visit to Film for the Soul, you won't be disappointed. I'll be submitting another piece for the project next week, David Mamet's Heist, so be on the lookout for that.
Ridley Scott’s Black Hawk Down is one of the most meticulous and masterful renditions of the classic war film formula. After about 30 minutes of exposition Scott drops the viewer in the middle of a war zone swirling with dirt, mud, and blood. It’s an intense experience that had many critics in 2001 crying foul. They claimed that Scott and producer Jerry Bruckheimer turned the Somali soldiers into faceless killers – blurs of black across the screen carrying automatic rifles. I think that’s unfair, though, as the film was pretty much dead on arrival as any war-themed film released post September 11th (Black Hawk Down came out a mere three months after the attacks) was going to be scrutinized unfairly; viewed through a super-serious lens. Somewhere along the way war films got the stigma of having to be message movies – I don’t think Scott or Bruckheimer are going for any big grandiose message, here; however, what they do accomplish is a damn fine action film filled with brilliantly staged action scenes.
Scott wastes no time with exposition as text on the screen informs the viewer of the situation and the time and date. As for the soldiers – we’re introduced to the primary characters thought the usual war film clichés. Perhaps this is where some of the critics take issue with the film: using such a serious subject as a backdrop for what essentially is The Rock or any other number of gung-ho Bruckheimer action films. You have your nerdy tech guy who gets thrown into combat (Ewen McGregor), you have your new recruit who’s eager to see action (Orlando Bloom), the wacky wise-cracking soldier (Jeremy Piven) , the calm superior officer (Tom Sizemore), and the disillusioned realist (Eric Bana). All of these soldiers are led into battle by the man in charge of it all, Garrison (the always grizzled Sam Shepard) who looks upon the battle from a war room full of televisions and telephones like he’s the coach of a football team, watching film, ready to call the next play. Their plan is to drop into Somalia and capture two top lieutenants of a renegade warlord.
Needless to say things don’t go so well with the operation, and on one hellish afternoon a Black Hawk helicopter goes down and the hundred plus soldiers are stranded in the middle of no man’s land. This is where it is upon the viewer, and which lens they choose to don, that decides whether or not this is an unsympathetic look at that horrible 24+ hours in Somalia, or whether or not it’s a finely tuned, and expertly crafted action film. I tend to side with the latter group.
Had Black Hawk Down been released prior to September 11th than I don’t think half of the critics are as harsh on the film as they were. Visually this is a stunning film – as is the case with most of Scott’s work – drenched in the blues that Scott loves to paint with. There’s also that kind of hyper-kinetic warfare footage that seemed fresh at the time. What makes it age well is the meticulous way Scott and his production designer Arthur Max have recreated the logistics of the gun battles. Every action sequence feels legitimate; an authentic way of being “in the moment”, instead of making the viewer sick with the usual herky-jerky camera tricks.
I can see where the detractors come from, though, as the Somali’s are relegated to nothing more than the 'faceless enemy'. However, the American soldiers are made unidentifiable, too, and I think that’s on purpose by Scott. Much like the recent HBO series "Generation Kill", these soldiers are known by last names, but really, when they are draped in camouflage and spout the same clichés they’ve heard from war films, they all become the same person. Perhaps this is what it’s like in a war?
What the film succeeds at is something that Scott has always had a handle on: visual poetry. Scott’s films have always been light on dialogue as a means for conveying emotions and heavy on the visual poetry; Black Hawk Down is no different. In fact, it’s the film that, at the time, I wish he would have been recognized for instead of the so-so and ultimately drab and boring 2000 Gladiator. Black Hawk Down is a more tightly wrought exercise of the action genre and trumps anything that Scott was praised for in Gladiator. It’s just a shame that not many people think of this film when they speak of Scott’s triumphs as a director.
Sure this isn’t the thrilling action film and morally challenging genre piece that David O. Russell’s Three Kings was, but then again not many war films are that good. Ken Nolan, working from the source material of Mark Bowden’s book, inevitably omitted some of the back story of the Somalia troops found in the book. There just isn’t the same space on screen that there is on the printed page to explain things away and fill in the blanks – Scott and Bruckheimer wanted to make an action film, so they axed some of the stuff that made the book so popular, but they created an intense war film that remains one of the truly great crafted action films of the 2000’s.
As a pure action, gung-ho-filmmaking-style type of war film Black Hawk Down is unparalleled: it has the patience, attention to detail, and the nuances -- in addition to the exhilarating and intense action sequences -- rarely found in this particular subgenre. I don’t think Scott or Bruckheimer were trying to win any sociological points, here, but what they do (big action) they do extremely well. It’s not a great film, but it’s an entertaining war film, expertly crafted; and that’s not something that should be looked down upon. I look forward to the day when we can stop thinking of war films as super-serious exercises, and filmmakers can feel comfortable making unapologetic, gung-ho war films like The Dirty Dozen or The Delta Force (this summer’s Inglorious Basterds is going to be in that vein, I have a feeling) without worrying about critics taking it down a peg for not being a politically correct social statement.
Back to the characters: Simon is being raised by his uncle Tom (the wonderful Scott Speedman) who now lives in his dead sisters house. He is a man of black and white beliefs; simplicity is his credo. Finally, there is Simon's French teacher Sabine (Egoyan regular, and wife, Arsinée Khanjian) who uses a recent news story about a terrorist plot to blow up a plane mid-flight for a translation assignment. There's also Simon's racist grandfather who is dying, and relays misinformation to Simon about how his father was a killer. This is a common occurrence in Egoyan's films as he loves to bring communities together (The Sweet Hereafter it was a bus crash, Exotica it was a missing child) and show these fragmented bits of information from different sources eventually lead to an epiphianic ending.
This "exercise" leads to Simon making the story personal, and thus starting a firestorm of controversy within the school and within his community of friends. He becomes hounded by his friends in face-to-face chat rooms and wacko nut jobs that frequent political blogs. All of these members collide in Simon's life, frequently pontificating if what his parents "did" was right or wrong or just a case of us not understanding because we live in such a different society.
The film is not just about Simon and his questions, though, but it also focuses a lot of attention on Sabine and Tom and their relationship. Tom does not get along with his father who thinks Simon's father killed his wife (Tom's sister) on purpose. There is an event that takes place at a dinner party where the truth is revealed. It's a powerful moment that Egoyan wisely shows us parts of, he never discloses his full hand at first, and it reminded me of the scene in The Sweet Hereafter where we learn the extent of Ian Holm's love for his daughter when he tells a story about what he was willing to do to save his daughters life. This moment in Adoration reminded me of the power and poignancy found in the flashback of Egoyan's 1997 film, because as is the case with a lot of Egoyan's work, if you jump to conclusions about the characters and their intentions or feelings, you are bound to be misguided by the time the whole truth is revealed.
There's another scene that shows the fragmentation or "sectioning off" of cultures that Tom is comfortable with. Tom is confronted one night while putting up a nativity scene by a masked Arab woman. She informs him and Simon, who is helping Tom, that she is fond of their nativity scene and the fact that they so publicly display their faith. She then speaks about something that rubs Tom the wrong way, and this leads to a semi-confrontation where Simon catches a glimpse into what kind of man his uncle is. But it's never that simple, and there is a second moment where the masked woman comes to Tom's door and asks to explain herself. It's a fascinating conversation and Scott Speedman as Tom nails every scene.
It's not just the interesting themes -- terrorism as an extension of personal neuroses, the parallel world of the internet, prejudice towards the ‘other’ -- at play that make this film worth seeing. Adoration is a tremendously made, beautiful film to look at and to listen to; it's a film you get lost in. The editing, as it usually is in an Egoyan film, is top notch; keeping the viewer at arms length without ever being to convoluted or needlessly confusing, but always holding my interest so I couldn't wait to see what mystery or family secret would be revealed next. The acting is top notch all across the board as Speedman gives a great performance and young Devon Bostick as Simon more than holds his own as he carries the bulk of the films emotional weight. Also, Arsinée Khanjian rarely gets the public praise she deserves for her work. She is so good as Sabine, a woman who at first seems weird, whose interest in Simon seems a tad unsettling, but as we learn more about her and her intentions, and everything is revealed, it all makes sense and makes Khanjian's performance all the more powerful.
One of the highlights of the 2009 Salem Film Festival was the appearance of legendary cinematographer Vilmos Zsigmond. The Oscar winner was touring with a seminar entitled A Celebration of Cinematography which showed clips from his Award worthy (and winning) films; in addition, the fest held a screening of the documentary No Subtitles Necessary about the volatile and subsequently healed relationship between Vilmos and fellow legendary cinematographer Laszlo Kovacs. The seminar was something special – an event I’ll remember for a long time as Mr. Zsigmond answered question after question from the crowd about film, the art of cinematography, the state of films today, and how there is a difference between cinematography and simply ‘shooting’ a film. Sadly he didn’t answer my question about Heaven’s Gate…notes from the event after the jump…
When asked: What is cinematography? Zsigmond replied: “God is light.” This led to a discussion about lighting in movies, and the cinematographers who can bend this light to recreate reality are the true auteurs; very old school definition of cinematography. Zsigmond said that as a cinematographer you can’t always rely on the writer to guide you through your shots. This led to my question where I asked him if there had ever been a film where he knew the picture was sinking, and wanted to make his photography the lasting impression, not the bad press of the film (I was speaking, of course, about Heaven’s Gate, but I never mentioned the title of the movie…I was also speaking to some of his lesser known failures like Intersection, Sliver, and The Black Dahlia – all movies that were not very good, but were filmed nicely) – of course, Vilmos ever the diplomat, laughed and said “never, you always do what the director tells you to do.”
He then went on to mention that the Art Direction can have a huge hand in helping out with the cinematography. He mentioned the great Art Director Dante Ferretti whose work on The Black Dahlia made Zsigmond’s job “a joy.”
We then moved ahead towards his favorite directors to work for, and his relationships with them; also, what his favorite scenes are from movies he shot. He said he loved working with directors who knew a little something about cinematography. He specifically mentioned DePalma’s name, and credited the director for getting him to respect the zoom lens. He likes directors who direct, and don’t let the cinematographers run wild – this correlates with a previous point he made about DP’s who shoot their “own movie” even though they are employed by the director the mentioned how some cinematographers “try to be too pretty” and are concerned with making the film solely about aesthetics – taking away from the narrative –and that’s not what film should be.
He spoke on some of his favorite scenes – the ending of The Deer Hunter: Zsigmond had reservations about the scene thinking it was too verbose and overdramatic, but Cimino told him “when we shoot the scene, you’ll see”, so, he acquiesced and ended up in tears at the end of the scene. He also mentioned how weird it was working with DeNiro as je liked (and preferred) to shoot the rehearsal first, any other way wasn’t natural for an actor. He also mentioned that the death of Christopher Walken was not rehearsed and had everyone on the set in tears. Zsigmond then mentioned that composition (mise-en-scène) is natural when working with such great directors, and that lighting (alluding to his earlier response about what a cinematographer does) is what adds that other element that allows the cinematographer to develop their own style. He then mentioned that the great DP’s all have similar lighting styles.
Opening night I went and saw the film Once More with Feeling starring Chaz Palminteri and Linda Fiorentino. The film, directed by indie stalwart Jeff Lipski, is about a psychiatrist named Frank Gregorio(Palminteri) who once had a passion for singing. As he prepares to sing a song for his daughter’s wedding, his fire is rekindled and the only appropriate outlet is through a karaoke bar located in the local bowling alley. This creates problems with the family as they wish they had more of their father around – he sees it as his family not taking an interest in what he’s doing and what he’s passionate about, and thus it inevitably leads to a romantic interest with Fiorentino, a quiet lurker in the bowling alley bar who sees talent in Palminteri. There are hidden secrets and truths and something else lurking behind the intentions of Fiorentino, but nothing every overtly sexual; the film is too smart for that and doesn’t rely on Hollywood conventions. The film parallels the story of the father with a story about his daughter (the wonderful Drea de Matteo) who is also considering an affair with a local policeman. Lipsky’s film is touching and warm and had me smiling from beginning to end. There are moments that come from real life situational humor, moments that evoke genuine laughter – a kind of been there, done that tone to the punch line. The film also (wisely) sidesteps the siren song of sitcom humor or drama – there are no false moments of mistaken intentions, there are no wacky moments of sexual advances, and most importantly, the characters don’t act like their actions don’t have consequences. It’s irrelevant whether or not the main characters do or do not have affairs, but what is important is that Lipsky’s film actually shows them weighing the pros and cons of said affairs. Rarely do you get a film or a filmmaker that has the patience to show that. The only minus for the film was the way it was filmed; filmed in digital some of the film was a little murky and in some scenes I definitely noticed the digital photography more than the story, but those are nitpicks. Lipsky was in attendance for a Q and A afterwards and mentioned that filming on digital was something that he didn’t want to do, and it’s something he’ll never do again.
After the seminar I had a few minutes to prepare for the one film I was most looking forward to, Atom Egoyan’s Adoration. This is a powerful film about the thin line between truth and reality and how we remember things. Like any good Egoyan film, Adoration begins in flashback and then works its way towards a conclusion via more flash backs, until finally the major epiphany happens and Egoyan unravels the final layer. I admit I am a huge fan of his films and probably an apologetic one at that, but this is a film of tremendous power that ranks right up there with Egoyan’s own masterpiece The Sweet Hereafter. I felt lucky to see the movie as we were informed before the film began that it probably won’t be released until July or August.
Later that night I watched the Japanese film Kabei: Our Mother which is a deliberate and poignant WWII melodrama. There is a shot at the end of the film that shows post war Japan in a small rural village, it’s an unexpected punch to the gut as most of the film is quite tame aesthetically. This is your typical Japanese film, slow, methodical in its melodrama, and wonderfully acted. The director Yoji Yamada has apparently been around a long time as I researched him prior to seeing the film and found that this was the man’s 80th film (!). At certain points I felt the films length, but then to the films credit I was sucked right back in for another 45 or 50 minutes. A really nice film.
The final film of the night was the real surprise, and I think ultimate winner, of the festival. Jeffery Goodman: The Last Lullaby. Tom Sizemore stars as a “retired” and weary hitman who can’t sleep, stumbles upon an opportunity to make some money which dominoes into events that get him more and more involved with someone he is supposed to kill. The film is a highly affective small town neo-noir in the vein of Blood Simple, Red Rock West, and 2007’s The Lookout. There's also a nice homage to John Boorman's noir classic Point Blank. Sizemore still has the chops to act, and the look of the film is gorgeous as we were treated to a pristine 35mm print made solely for the Salem Film Festival. The film doesn’t rely on the clichés of the thriller; rather, it has fun with the conventions and motifs of noir: the weary protagonist, the man who gets in too deep, ambiguity, etc. There’s a great shootout scene that is intelligent and relies on silence and smarts, rather than guns blazing. It’s films like this that get me excited about the fact there are still filmmakers out there who realize that, when making a film like this, subdued and classical film techniques are always going to trump the “in-the-moment” action style found in most movies containing shootouts. The violence in The Last Lullaby is shocking, not because it’s ultra violent, but because the loudness of gun bursts always breaks the comforts of silence. It's an amazing film that succeeds in existing in that kind of no man's land found in sorta-commerical, sorta-indie films like In Bruges and the aforementioned The Lookout.
I wrapped my weekend by seeing a touching Chinese/American film called Children of Invention. The film was made before the market crashed and millions of people lost their jobs, but it has come at an appropriate time. The film concerns a mother who is trying to make ends meet after her husband has left her to go back to Hong Kong. Elaine Chang and her two young kids live just outside of Boston in an abandon new construction condo (the owner is out of town for five months, so their friend allows them to stay there). Elaine is constantly looking for the next “get rich quick” idea as she spends most of her day replying to ads in the newspaper. Eventually she is conned into a pyramid scheme and the bad goes to worse as events unfold that leave her kids vying for themselves. There are moments of real joy that are cut with moments of intense anxiety as Elaine struggles to figure out how she will get food on the table. The title comes into play at the end, something I dare not spoil, but I will say this: when the kids’ moment of reverie is interrupted by the harsh realities of the world they have to live it, well, it was one of the most poignant moments of any film I saw at the festival. The film is doubly remarkable by the fact that the two young young actors carry the film, and kudos to writer/director Tze Chun for not making the kids sugary-sweet and going the conventional route where the audience’s emotions are manipulated; which is usually the case with films concerning small children.
