The Ang Lee Project: Pushing Hands

Ang Lee’s debut film Pushing Hands opens with an old man serenely practicing T’ai Chi in a living room. As he goes through the motions of the ritual synth music plays and a general feeling of tranquility sets in. This is a self-contained moment of peace. We then cut to a close up of a computer screen and hear the clacking of a keyboard as another person types the beginning of a story. The tension and the contrast between these two elements: an old man practicing a centuries old form of meditation and someone working on a modern machine is the heart of the story told in the film. It is a story that confronts the gulf between cultures and generations. The old man is Mr. Chu, who has recently immigrated to the United States from China to live with his son’s family. The person working on the computer is Martha, a writer and the wife of Mr. Chu’s son, Alex.

While the story primarily focuses on Mr. Chu and his struggle to integrate into his new home, the film also gives time to Martha as she attempts to reconcile living with her father-in-law and Alex, who tries to keep the peace between the two. This demonstrated most concisely in a wonderful dinner scene where Mr. Chu and Martha battle over what Alex should have on his plate: meat or fish. Mr. Chu criticizes how the parents raise their young child, and Martha chastises Mr. Chu for not making more of an effort to learn English.  The beauty of nuance is found in this tricky balance. Lee could have very easily made Martha a shrew or nag who wanted to purge her family of its cultural background. Instead, she earnestly tries to embrace her husband’s heritage while still being frustrated by the reactionary and intrusive nature of Mr. Chu. Lee asks us to both sympathize with Mr. Chu and to be critical of his stubbornness, while rooting for him to find meaning in his new home.

Mr. Chu finds solace in a Chinese Cultural center, where people learn T’ai Chi from him and honor him as a master of the art. There, he receives dignity sorely lacking at him. He forms a friendship with Ms. Chen, an elderly woman who teaches a cooking class. The understated affection between the two of them fits their mature, weather worn outlook on life. The danger of aging into irrelevance is always present at home, illustrated by scenes of Mr. Chu spending his days in front of a television, wounding Martha’s injured hand with misguided healing techniques, and bemoaning about his place in the world.

What’s perhaps most surprising about Pushing Hands is it’s insertion of action beats at certain points of the story. Early in the film Mr. Chu and Martha are struggling for space in the kitchen and Mr. Chu dodges her as her grabs some dishes. It’s a herald for what’s to come: Mr. Chu demonstrates his abilities at the cultural center by knocking one of his overweight students a comically long distance, reminiscent of a three Stooges Bit. You can practically hear Curly’s “Whoop whoop whoop!” as the student tumbles into a few tables. Later Mr. Chu squares off against a street gang and an abusive restaurant owner. While this insertion of action might have come from a desire to diversify the story, it’s unnecessary.

Pushing Hands works best when it sticks to being a tight family drama while also tackling the difficulties of aging and integrating into a completely new culture. The moments when it dips into pseudo-action don’t detract much from this, but a closer examination of the family dynamics would have perhaps yielded more of what the movie does so well. As it is, it’s a fine first film and leaves me excited for the journey this director’s career is about to take.

The Ang Lee Project

I've decided to go through all of director Ang Lee's feature films, and chronicle my thoughts on each here. While I'm familiar with his well known works, such as Brokeback Mountain, Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, and The Life of Pi, I haven't seen the majority of his movies. Just looking over his filmography tells me that this will be an interesting journey, if for no other reason than it displays pretty admirable diversity. Lee has tried his hand at martial arts films, family dramas, adventure films, and one super hero movie, among other things.

I'll write one post per film and go through them chronologically, starting with 1992's Pushing Hands.

Feel free to follow me on twitter: @MrJackBrinck , and on Letterboxd: http://letterboxd.com/jackbrinck/ .


Thanks,

- Jack

What I've Been Watching: July 2014

Since making consistent posts to this blog has proven rather difficult, I thought I would scale back my ambition and try micro-posts. Here's a quick list of what I've been watching for the month of July, with some brief thoughts on each:

Hellraiser: Revelations: The last step in my friends' and mine's quest to see all the Hellraiser films. It's been one hell of a ride, and the vast majority of the films are a level of bad that induces a pain that Pinhead would be most pleased with. This last installment, allegedly made so that those who owned the movie making rights to the franchise could keep hold of them for a reboot down the road, is particularly awful.  

Obvious Child: The Jenny Slate staring romantic comedy has moments of brilliance and the filmmakers should be commended for the frankly brave choice of addressing abortion in a down to earth way. There's a bit of good chemistry between Slate and her love interest, played by Jake Lacy. Unfortunately none of the film's positive elements come together in a way as to make the emotional experiences of the story very endearing.

Dawn of the Planet of the Apes: My second favorite film of the year so far. Dawn continues the story from Rise and expands on the ideas set forth in the first film in every meaningful way. Caesar, freed at the end of the Dawn, leads his family of intelligent apes while the last members of humanity fight to survive.  This is a summer movie with a soul. There are fights, explosions, and big speeches, but all of it is contextualized in a compelling world with characters that evoke complex ideas and themes.

Stardust: Adapted from the novel by Neil Gaiman, this is a fantasy film I was interested in but overlooked when it originally came out. This is a fun movie for the most part, if a little long. Think a slightly darker Princess Bride.

Cheap Thrills: A South By Southwest hit when it premiered, this is a low concept, low budget film that seeks to shock and disgust. While it succeeds on those levels it lacks any real emotional depth, though you could argue that the filmmaker's weren't really going for that. Ultimately I finished the movie feeling as though I just watched a poor man's Coen brother's film.

Jodoroswky's Dune: Surrealist filmmaker Alejandro Jodorowsky set out in the mid 1970's to adapt Frank Herbert's science fiction classic, Dune. This is a fantastic documentary about what that vision would have looked liked, and why it was never realized.

Apologies for the Absence

I wanted to say I'm sorry for the lack of posts in May. It's not that I haven't been watching films worth writing about (Shanghai Express, the 1987 Robocop, Days of Future Past), but that I decided to devoted more time to a screenplay project. However, I’ve reached a milestone on that project, and can start contributing to this blog more often. I have plenty of notes on recently released films, so I might try to get a few of those up before moving on to new releases.

In any case, consider this post a promise of things to come. Look for more reviews in the coming weeks.

Noah Review

Living with his family in self-imposed isolation from the rest of humanity, a man has a vision from God that the world will be drowned to make way for a new beginning. Believing that he must save all animal life from the flood, the man sets out to build a massive vessel capable of surviving the wrath of the Creator.  Noah by Darren Aronofsky, much like the famous ark in the story, is rough around the edges and held together with raw materials, yet contains with in it admirable components. Ultimately this film comes across as underdeveloped and overly ambitious.

                The world in which Noah and his family live is a dark, dirty, and brutal place where life is cheap and often ends violently and senselessly. Man has disobeyed the Creator of the world and has been banished from a garden of paradise. There are themes of environmentalism throughout. Noah and his family take only what they need to survive, which doesn’t include the meat of animals. They live away from other people, trying to make their way through their lives as humbly as possible. In this way there’s a kind of rural vs. city thing going on. The men that Noah hides from are killers and eaters of animals with a society that seems to revolve around mining. Man’s corruption of the Earth and the purity of nature are emphasized at every turn.

                The best parts of Noah almost all come from the second half, once we get on the boat. A truly chilling moment occurs when Noah and his family try to have dinner while the screams of drowning people hang over them. Aronofsky has succeded in crafting a film that gives us a deeper insight into what a man in Noah’s predicament could have gone through. The film weighs the issues of mercy and judgment and pushes its main character to the breaking point and beyond.

                Unfortunately many of the film’s subplots, including the villainous intents of Ray Winstone, a love story for Noah’s son Ham, and fallen angels known as the Watchers don’t pay off and feel undercooked. Winstone plays a king descended from Cain who isn’t given enough time to really develop beyond a cardboard villain who might as well be twirling a thick mustache.  The Watchers, apart from looking cheap, have shades of character but again, their place in the film’s story is ultimately too tangential to inspire much interest in them.

                Noah has grand themes, but it’s most successful when it turns into a tense family drama about a man in an extremely difficult position. In some ways it’s a small story stretched too far. The core of what’s here is fine, and worth experiencing, but the audience has to sift through several underdeveloped aspects to get to it.   

The Grand Budapest Hotel Review

Wes Anderson’s The Grand Budapest Hotel features a cavalcade of quirky characters in a mostly light hearted adventure revolving around a large luxury hotel in a fictional European Country during the 1930’s. Much of what makes Anderson’s style compelling is found here: A large and eccentric cast, matriculate set and costume design, and aggressively playful and fastidious dialog. The story is anchored by the hotel’s concierge, the genteel M. Gustav, and his protégé, Zero as they try to navigate a web of conspiracy and deception surrounding one of the hotel’s guests. Thematically, The Grand Budapest Hotel is interested in reoccurring social cycles, classism, and the nature of storytelling. Each of these ideas is explored in an interesting and compelling fashion while keeping the audience on a constantly moving and amusing narrative.

                The entire film, from the acting to the set design and the little flourishes of camera work is a fully realized vision. The hotel itself is a thing of wonder. The centerpiece is a lavish lobby where high society and elegance abound. The care put into the design of everything, down to the font on signs in the background, is evident. Like the castle Hogwarts in Harry Potter or the bathhouse of spirits in Spirited Away this location is filled with enchanting bewilderments. The hotel is truly a character itself, complete with its own narrative arc. All the time you’re there you can’t help but marvel at every inch of it and wonder what’s behind every door. Everything feels as though it’s made out of colorful card stock and lends the film a whimsical tone overall.

                The film crackles with energy and never lingers on one thing for very long. The vast amount of characters outside Gustav and Zero don’t get a lot of screen time, but none of them waste a second of what they have. The character list reads like something out of a lost Victorian novel: Tilda Swinton as an aging mistress of a vast estate, Edward Norton as an affectionate chief of the secret police, Saoirse Ronan as a straight talking aspiring baker, Adrien Brody as a greedy heir (sporting a kind of bizarre kinetic energy reminiscent as his performance as Salvador Dali in Midnight in Paris). The list goes on with more wonderful performances.

The great variety of characters gives the story a somewhat varied tone. At many moments it is playful and cherry, but prospect of melancholy is never too far away. There is a sense of faded glory in this film that has manifested itself in Anderson’s work before. At times in the story it seems that Anderson is addressing this idea more so than in his previous movies. This awareness is not played for cheap meta-humor, but instead is used to explore and draw closer to the concept and why so many of Anderson’s characters chose to live their lives in the shadows of former greatness. 

 The Grand Budapest Hotel is a delight to experience, delivered in an ornate package with a bow on top. What lies inside are a cornucopia of enjoyable performances, stunning set designs, and a charming story about coming of age, societal rhythms, and a damn fine lobby boy.

Nebraska Review

Nebraska, the sixth feature film directed by Alexander Payne, is about an old man named Woody Grant who convinces his son David to take him to Lincoln, Nebraska in order to claim a sweepstakes prize of 1 million dollars.  Woody is often confused about himself and his surroundings, due either to his age or his alcoholism, yet seems fixated on this more than questionable promise of prize money.  David, having nothing important going on in his life, decides to humor his dad and help him even if he thinks the prize is a total fantasy.  The two set off from Billings, Montana and encounter many people from Woody’s past along the way.

                For the most part the film and the story are as straight forward as the premise, with one caveat.  On the surface this appears to be a film about aging.  To be sure, the members of the cast that sport grey hair outnumber those that don’t, and the movie isn’t afraid to have a laugh at the expense of the elderly.  But this story is more about a son becoming closer to his father.  As the audience might expect there’s more to Woody than the disheveled, ornery man we meet at the beginning of the film.  Through one event after another Woody’s past comes to light and his son begins to understand his father more than he has his entire life.  This humanizing comedy, much like its main character, is at first rough and forlorn, but soon gives way to a peculiar tenderness.     

             Bruce Dern, who plays Woody, fleshes out his character with minute idiosyncrasies including a strained walk and trembling hands that are fascinating to watch.  Dern carries the film, but June Squibb, playing the role of his wife Kate, practically steals the show with her bold, biting humor.  The son, played by Will Forte, has an “Aw shucks,” feeling about him and serves as an anchor to the story.  The supporting cast is rounded out by the likes of Bob Odenkirk and Stacy Keach, each of whom is engaging in their own way. 

            As the title implies, the setting plays a strong role in the aesthetic of the film.  Endless highways pass through arid deserts and plains as Woody and David make their way to their destination.  The film feels intimate with its characters and the small town where the majority of the story takes place.  Yet the landscapes are vast and large.  Cows appear small as they graze in giant fields dotted with bales of hay, and the whole film hums with a rustic tone.  The black and white photography emphasizes shadows and the pale lights of the town beautifully.  The soundtrack is populated by acoustic guitars and a muted trumpet that seems to sigh along with Woody during his most desolate moments.  The sound, along with the rest of the film, feels like a kind of 21^st century Americana. 

           Nebraska is a window into an odd, faded world that holds many beautiful things.  The cinematography and frank performances make it a world worth traveling to.  Perhaps the story is a little too straightforward and would have benefited from a clearer arc for its central characters, but what’s here is an enjoyable playground for Payne’s measured sense of sadness, comedy, and sentimentalism.