Up In "Smoke"

From time to time you'll get occasional reflection mention of how we all single handedly speed view the plethora of photographs now available at our instant disposal. And despite being schooled of this particularly vile habit, I fall victim to it time and time again like any other shallow 21st century mortal. So I find myself constantly reminding myself, constantly retraining and committing myself to slowing down, seeing what I'm actually attempting to look at, and trying to make sense of what I'm experiencing- before feeding the compulsion to rush to the next image for no, good, rational reason.

This scene from the memorable 1995 film Smoke approaches that very subject back in the analog days when one could still inhale and imbibe at one's own leisure in a public interior. And it concerns nothing less than photography's major raison d'etre- the very capture of time itself, and both the subtle and sublime appreciation of said power...

 How Auggie got that camera...



Why not... the true meaning of Christmas (for good measure)!

The Revenant

Vivid dreamscapes, nature in its raw, natural elements... cold, wet, breathtaking in its beauty and uncompromising in its ferocity. Since the world of movies first burst forth with those audience galvanizing scenes of a moving train and a pointed gun, cinema has never ceased trying to put you in the very scene it has sought to create. The Revenant does just that- the water, wind and snow beneath your feet, against your skin and throughout your senses. 

Wide angle lenses can often look gimmicky on the big screen, here in the great wide open Alejandro G. Iñárritu has used them flawlessly, a major reason why we are seamlessly enmeshed into the environment of his making. We see arrows initiate flight, frenetically approach and whiz harmlessly by our heads, or stop full upon their deadly mark. We hear, feel and for all purposes smell the very breath of those that approach us, friend and foe alike. 3D can't touch this, virtual reality can't come close.

This is experiential movie making at its most vivid and dramatic, where even the dream sequences that occasionally manifest are just further extensions of the present reality. And DiCaprio lives up to the spectacle. There's no way a human body could actually survive the abuse his endures, but you're willing to forgive and forget... because the movie is that damn good. 

Easily one of my All Time Top Twenty, possibly even in the Exalted Top Ten... Must see on the BIG screen!

Deny, Deny, Deny...

Now imagine, just imagine.. if people watched this video and just said, "Dang! I never knew that!" It could cause some people to stop, reflect and... possibly even think. But uh-uh, that's not happening- that thinking part's for losers! Deny-Deny-Deny... and call people a few names while you're at it.

It's the exposure, it's the lighting... it's the fact that I simply refuse to believe, evidence be damned, that they purposely skewed the film chemistry to benefit lighter skin tones- and anyone who believes that is an (anti-White) racist!

PS- And if (just saying if now) it was done, then it was strictly for economic reasons to best serve their main demographic- that's just good business sense!
PPS- Exactly, like... slavery, just business.

"In the last decade it has become clear to those who seek out this information that the chemistry for stock colour film for still cameras was designed originally with a positive bias for "Caucasian" skin tones because of its high level of reflectivity. (Personal interviews with multiple chemists and film designers at Kodak, Rochester, NY, 1995; Winston, 1985, 1996)."

"It was also believed at the time that physics was physics, chemistry was chemistry, and science was based on reasoned decisions without consideration of cultural or racial subtleties. It is now becoming acknowledged more widely within the industry that refinements to the chemistry of film emulsions have never been issues of physics or chemistry exclusively, but have been the result of cultural choices as well."   -Prof. Lorna Roth

Diary Of A Teenage Girl

No moralizing here, we're watching this develop from the mind of a fifteen year old girl who wants to grow up fast, and finds herself ensnared in a world she cannot possibly begin to understand or fathom- not that any of us can at any age. And Diary of a Teenage Girl does a bang up job of showing just how confusing, hypocritical and thoroughly maddening adults have made this world we live in, and in so doing, defy our offspring to do better.

Losing One's Voice

Don't know if the movie was all that great, but the content sure was, and her talent was as real and rare as it ever gets. I didn't know Amy Winehouse from shit while alive, by the time I found out who she was, she had already become the mumbling, fumbling, public butt of jokes; and that is, I must confess, how I happened upon her. A joke, a sham, a vapid publicity stunt gone terribly wrong.

Truth is, she was an exceptionally rare talent with a gift that comes along only once in several generations. Most recording artists artists in general must strain to get every last ounce of whatever talent they possess to make themselves shine and be counted. Amy's voice was an absolute force of nature, she had to corral and tame its sheer brilliance. And she could do so with surprising ease and regularity. I have to go back to a young Aretha to think of someone who actually had to restrain their voice of its own natural intensity, a voice that could just wail seemingly of its own accord and volition. She didn't have the Biblical soul of Aretha, but the subtle intonations she delivered were nothing short of magical- so unlike the squeeze every note into every syllable histrionics of the Mariah Carey School of Yarbling.

Unfortunately, she could not curtail and control the very demons that lived within that voice. And she very rapidly regressed into the same sad story of an enormous talent imploding under the pressure of drugs, stardom and wanton self destruction. 

Ironically, and unlike so many others- she wanted neither the fame nor celebrity, and knew it would be the death of her...

Salt Of The Earth: Epilogue

Finally, saw Salt Of The Earth. And what can I say... a better than expected film about a great photographer who has seen, experienced and documented many incredible, as well as horrendous things that life has created, and man has wrought. And as alluded to before, with all that said and done, with all the good he has (obviously) done in his life- why oh why, would he then so casually ally himself with an entity whose very existence threatens and belies everything he's ever stood for? 

'71

One of the best "war is hell" flicks ever- and in my All Time Top 20 Movies. All traces of war rhetoric sentimentality are left at the Hollywood door; no right and wrong, no justice, truth or grand ideologies. Everyone gets turned into something they don't wanna be, save for those who already started as such. When everything around you is compromised, everyone on every side is expendable.

So we're left to deal with the uneasy realization that we create our own problems, and contrary to present day mythology- shooting our way out just prolongs and worsens them. Super heroes do not save the day, no miracle man vanquishes the evil doers with his magic gun. And we never do learn...

Birdman

Interesting flick where life and acting, acting and life interact and intercede, and everyone gets called on who they are, what they are and what the hell they're trying to prove. Self indulgent? You bet- but everyone pays the price. And the only Black in the whole movie is the same guy providing the sound track, who we catch occasional glimpses of in the background, laying down the film's cacophonous drum beat, as if all the while reminding us that even in these "post racial" times, many of these artistic and lifestyle problems and decisions still remain in the realm of... "White people's problems."

Long Live Film

Personally, I don't give the proverbial rat's ass what anyone shoots. I've never (really) been tempted to shoot digital simply because there were no digital cameras that appealed to me... until now. And since I can't afford what I want, I'm damn lucky that I do like shooting film- the look, the more deliberate process,  the satisfyingly more tactile feel from start to finish... Well, you can skip the darkroom part actually- romantic as hell (granted), but way too much pain and frustration on my part to get things just right (esp w/35mm). Despite its own trials and tribulations, scanning and digital post provide (in most cases) a very viable, hybrid option in the majority of instances.

Anyway, didn't know what to expect with this documentary, but since I am an avid film fan, was hoping for a fun ride... and let's just say it didn't start off well when the first guy up was sporting some silly ass hat thing that screamed pretentious (wannabe) hipster. You'd think by now that the last thing you'd want to portray film camera enthusiasts as is some subcult of pretentious  twenty year olds. And yet that's exactly how this documentary commences as we're presented with about a dozen twenty to thirty yr olds, all pretty much repeating the same thing in their own words, that film: looks different, slows one down and makes you concentrate more. True that, but...

Dang guys- if you want us to get excited about the medium, then ya gotta make the effort! Show us how film looks and feels different, show us the variations and results of different format analog cameras, show us just how tactile and sensuous they are compared to their amorphous, carbon composite, digital brethren. Let's see the the glistening chrome and hear the wondrous pop of a classic Hasselblad, make us feel the refined elegance of a Leica shutter and advance lever, the precision workmanship of a Rolleiflex;  make us revel in the tactile pleasure of wood, metal and leather, the joy of loading film. And how can you have a documentary dedicated to film and not even tease us with the magic and romance of the mystery called a darkroom? What the? Sure all this stuff is briefly alluded to, but... Show Us Goddamn It! You're supposed to be visual story tellers! You're certainly not gonna win any converts by endlessly repeating a three minute mantra. And it certainly wouldn't have hurt to include one or two actual masters of said medium, you know... old farts who have actually lived it their whole lives and have made the shit sing in ways these newbies are just starting to figure out.

Those Shooting Film...

Those of you us still shooting film should shoot a look at Aaron Brethorst's appropriately titled... I Shoot Film. Dissatisfied with The Massive Development Chart data, he set about compiling his own comprehensive film data chart-  in addition to the ultimate photo processing lab directory in these semi United States...

Radioactive!

For the past several years I've felt very safe going on the occasional flight with film safely wrapped in my heavy duty, double laminated lead film bag designed to protect film up to ISO 1600. I was invincible, invulnerable, very much on the order of an aging analog demigod. But I recently read that all security has to do is ramp up their X-ray machines until they can see inside that sucker. Who knew!?!? Now, I really don't know what to think. Have they been double dosing their radiation all along to peek inside- or have they just quietly been giving me the pass? I have no clue... Actually, my film did go through a scanner unprotected when I visited the WTC memorial a couple of years back (the cops weren't making any exceptions). I somehow managed to keep both mouth and emotion in check- fortunately, no dire results; but no one wants to have their film X-rayed, voluntarily or otherwise- and sweat to see what does or doesn't happen...

Current wisdom says to just put the film naked in a transparent plastic bag and kindly ask security to hand inspect. For good measure, it's also said one should throw in a roll or two of 1600 ISO film, since 400 ISO is officially touted as the magic cut off point of the scanner safety limit- the high ISO presence would hopefully provide the needed incentive for them to grudgingly acquiesce and hand inspect.

So the question remains... this Sept. when I'm off visiting the folks in NYC, do I continue with the "if it ain't broke, don't fix it" approach, or do I dispense with the supposed facade of (non)protection altogether, and accept the possibility that I've just been flying lucky all along???

Calvary

Mighty Benbulben lurks in many a shot throughout the background of this film- imposing, menacing, and as is so much of the Irish countryside- hauntingly beautiful, a metaphor for the tragedy and survival that is Irish history. The Catholic priest scandal is but a side note in Calvary, the courier for the larger message- humanity is hell bent on doing itself in, in every way imaginable. We refuse to learn, and yet refuse to give up. The characters in Calvary are very much caricatures of human vice and frailty, each excelling in their own chosen path to misery and hell. And they all find themselves within convenient drinking distance, a small rural community of emotional vampires in the most scenic of countrysides. 

Brendan Gleeson's Father James must somehow deal with the whole lot, all the while knowing that one is going to kill him. More philosopher than priest, he has plenty going for him, including his own veiled darkness. The story has plot flaws aplenty, yes; and the metaphors in people's clothing come on a tad too strong and obvious- but they grab hold of you nonetheless, just as life's many ugly little side plots drag us in despite our protest. And as is often the case, there's just no way of telling who'll win.

God's Pocket

Three minutes into this movie, I turned to my wife and said, "This is so freakin' depressing- it's one of my favorite all time movies." Of course, it was a ludicrous thing to say- at least the latter part. And even though I was the only guy laughing out loud in the theater for the first two thirds of the movie- in the end, I was right on both counts. 

This movie has some major plot holes, but... it's the little hapless, off center character touches that inundate both the visuals on screen and the characters themselves that give this movie its dark, foreboding humor and its uncanny ring of authenticity ('70s and otherwise). The main characters are all fatally flawed and frayed, everyone hanging on dearly for that last gasp of life giving air and salvation- all so they can live to fuck up just one more time the very next day...

On a minor note, the film should have ended when Seymour Hoffman's character went walking down the darkened street (instead of what seemed like a tacked on "happy" ending)- needless to say, this movie made especially real how much Seymour Hoffman will be missed...   A Must See.

Locke

A man walks into his car, and for the next 90 minutes- you are trapped alongside him. And you've no choice but to listen to his every word on the phone as he tries to salvage some semblance of a life, as everything he's ever had outside that car interior slowly dissolves and dissipates...

Amazing how quickly an hour and a half can go by with tight editing and good acting-  minimalism literally personified.

CAUTION:  Elicits High Risk of subject induced "relationship discussion" with significant other...

Finding Vivian Maier

I indeed feel fortunate in having had the opportunity to view Finding Vivian Maier online this weekend, just for previously supporting Mr. Maloof's effort with such a modest contribution. I guess like many others, I thought I pretty much had a handle on the whole myth and magic of this enigmatic figure, when in truth I didn't realize, or even imagine, the task it would be to balance the many facets and dueling natures of this complex human being and gifted artist that Mr. Maloof would eventually come to uncover- along with the mountains of undeveloped film and negatives that he would unearth and sort through. And even upon her death, as he takes on the full time job of promoting and celebrating her legacy, she is still as much shunned by certain factions of the photographic hierarchy, as she was by society in general during her rather eccentric and secretive life.

Unlike The Vivian Maier Mystery by the BBC which sought in large part to bare her photographic pedigree, this project concentrates on the person, as it seeks to lay clear that this was not just some care free, devil may care Mary Poppins. And it makes for a far more interesting portrait. Vivian had some serious problems, issues she could neither fathom nor resolve. But she sure could take a picture, a fact that she did not actively promote by any measure- but that she was definitely not unaware of! And this film is a fitting tribute to an artist who was very much attuned to the humor, suffering and subtle nuances that life bequeaths upon us all. Of course, no one can say if she created her remarkable legacy because of or despite her considerable psychic trauma- but her legacy attests to the extent to which she could triumph above it.

Finally, there are those who would criticize Mr. Maloof for making a buck from the life's work of an anonymous artist who suffered an isolated and ultimately impoverished death. Without any self aggrandizement, Mr. Maloof does allude to the still ongoing amount of work that he has willingly and enthusiastically undertaken to preserve and disseminate her work in the most dignified manner possible. His may have been a chance encounter, a sheer collision of coincidence, but we can all be grateful that someone (without any previous photographic experience) had the wherewithal to successfully navigate the corridors of the art world to complement and complete the earthly mission of the lady with the floppy hat...

Two Photography Films For 2014!

In addition to the long awaited, much anticipated biodoc Finding Vivian Maier due this March, there is also Through A Lens Darkly: Black Photographers and the Emergence of a People.

 "I will sell the shadow to support the substance."    --Sojourner Truth

American Hustle

 The lobbyists do the same things we did, only to a much greater degree.

A most peculiar factional movie- very intense and very... claustrophobic. I couldn't exactly put my finger on why, but it was hours later when I finally realized how many close ups there are in this movie. I mean, looking back, it seems over half the goddamn movie was shot in close up. And it does have a rather pronounced effect, particularly when the characters are so very, very intense, so very, very desperate, and the movie keeps switching off from character to character in rapid tag team fashion as we delve further into their broken, cheatin' psyches.

3 Films To Catch @ Year's End...

Although I've yet to see American Hustle and The Wolf of Wall Street, I have seen three, rather good, rather small films that I can definitely recommend. Don't think their available for rental just quite yet, so keep an eye out...

Dallas Buyer's Club traces the very abrupt journey of a hard core, Texan homophobe's transformation into an AIDS's fighting activist (when he contracts the disease himself in the '80s).

Can't help but think back to The Deer Hunter (one of the most over rated pieces of crap ever created) when viewing Out Of The Furnace; it's set in an nearly identical albeit updated backdrop. But I like the slow, deliberate pace of this film (one can almost feel the humidity of the hot summer sun on your skin)- in contrast to Woody Harrelson's intense and truly intimidating White Trash, villain extraordinaire (worth the price of admission alone).

And finally there's Philomena, an interesting journey back into the Catholic guilt, abuse and denial of Ireland's past, and it's legacy into the present.

The Beauty Of Not Seeing Race

Translation not necessary...

12 Years A Slave

I almost feel that to speak of this film only cheapens it, for nothing within it is wasted, and anything I would have to say could never pay it justice. Every scene, every moment is used to full potential, even the air hangs heavy, with you in its presence. Director Steve McQueen has resurrected the evil insanity upon which an entire nation was created, whose legacy we continue to deny to this very day.