My contemporary argues that I'm Not There--certainly one of the best films of 2007--is the best biopic. I beg to differ.
Martin Scorsese's vastly underrated The Aviator and David Lean's classic Lawrence of Arabia are both better biopics than the admittedly awesome I'm Not There. What sets I'm Not There apart from other run-of-the-mill bullshit like Ray, Walk the Line, and Capote is exactly what stops it from being in the same league as The Aviator and Lawrence of Arabia. Haynes' goal seems to be to rip apart the conventions of the genre and build it back up again with six different actors representing different stages of Dylan's career, his personality, and his myth. This technique is far from a gimmick, allowing the viewer to understand Dylan as an impression rather than a single figure. However, both The Aviator and Lawrence of Arabia capture the impression of their subjects (largely due to, especially in the case of Lawrence of Arabia , perfect film craft) yet also allow the viewer to relate and simultaneously despise their subjects. In I'm Not There the emotional attachment a viewer makes to any number of the six representations of Dylan is made specifically to that characterized representation, not Dylan himself. Both Scorsese and Lean operate within the typical dramatic arc sans the bullshit Hollywood ending. In the last shot of The Aviator we see Howard Hughes falling back into his world of madness and despair, a far cry from Ray Charles awkwardly crying in the Georgia Capital, or even a shot of the real Dylan blasting his harmonica at the end of I'm Not There. Both Scorsese and Lean bring a much desired edge to their films that is simply not found in any other biopic.
I must say though, the sequence in I'm Not There where Jim James is in white face and singing Goin' to Acapulco is one of the single greatest film moments in 2007.
Top 8 Film Moments of 2007:
8. Death of the dog in I am Legend.
7. Call it.
6. The death of the mother in 28 Weeks Later.
5. Goin' to Acapulco in I'm Not There.
4. Opening credit poll dance in Planet Terror.
3. I. Drink. Your. Milkshake.
2. The funeral in The Darjeeling Limited.
1. Where did Anton Chigurh go? in No Country For Old Men.
EDIT! David's addendum to best moments of '07.
10. Viggo's fight in the bathhouse in Eastern Promises.
9. I've abandoned my boy!
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Yahoo film list decends from mediocre to absurd.
A new list pumped out by Yahoo presents their 10 most historically inaccurate films.
Utterly rediculous. As I'm persuing through the mediocre assemblance of rather recent films and sparese justifications, I'm thinking: What makes one film more historically inaccurate than another? What are the criteria, and how are they proporitioned? Why is there nothing from before the 90s on this list? Perhaps a 13 year old penned this.
Then I reach the final entry. 2001. The mere thought that this film was at all considered from a historical paradigm confuses and enrages me. I fear I lack the writing skill to capture my honest reaction to it. It's inclusion made another bullshit list into a catastrophe of film criticism. Worse yet is Yahoo's lack to provide an author, or any point of contact for that matter.
Let's take a minute to catch our breath here, and move on.
Back to the front nine, larger questions come to mind, such as, how historically accurate does a film need to be? What are cinema's obligations to history, and history's to cinema? It's an interesting topic, but I think that ultimately, in the larger scheme of cinema, superficial.
I recently took a History class look at these questions and many more, and I concluded that historians will never be content with a historical film. There will always be overlooked details, events that never happened, or sequence, or scale. Anachronistic results from the best of intentions. As a historian, it can be annoying, but only if the film isn't very good. Most historical films are using a real story to find dramatic action, and nothing more. Rarely do filmmakers seek to educate an audience. Films teach us, at best, a decent set of trivia for Jeopardy, but never have they been considered (rightfully so) as substantial sources of knowledge. Fiction seeks reaction, not retention.
However, an address on the genre of biofilm: misguided. These 'true' life stories often boil complex figures down to 120 minute servings. Cinema concerning the 'real' should be turned to as an afterthought of research. Cinema should reward knowledge. The people most deserved of remembrance are often the hardest to compress into film. The greatest biopic: I'm Not There. It appreciates Bob Dylan, rewards those who have followed his life and work, makes no definitive summary, no attempt at a thesis on his person or effect. The filmmaker is surely a supreme authority of Dylan, but acts as if in a room with other such fans, not at a podium before a crown of befuddled dolts.
Utterly rediculous. As I'm persuing through the mediocre assemblance of rather recent films and sparese justifications, I'm thinking: What makes one film more historically inaccurate than another? What are the criteria, and how are they proporitioned? Why is there nothing from before the 90s on this list? Perhaps a 13 year old penned this.
Then I reach the final entry. 2001. The mere thought that this film was at all considered from a historical paradigm confuses and enrages me. I fear I lack the writing skill to capture my honest reaction to it. It's inclusion made another bullshit list into a catastrophe of film criticism. Worse yet is Yahoo's lack to provide an author, or any point of contact for that matter.
Let's take a minute to catch our breath here, and move on.
Back to the front nine, larger questions come to mind, such as, how historically accurate does a film need to be? What are cinema's obligations to history, and history's to cinema? It's an interesting topic, but I think that ultimately, in the larger scheme of cinema, superficial.
I recently took a History class look at these questions and many more, and I concluded that historians will never be content with a historical film. There will always be overlooked details, events that never happened, or sequence, or scale. Anachronistic results from the best of intentions. As a historian, it can be annoying, but only if the film isn't very good. Most historical films are using a real story to find dramatic action, and nothing more. Rarely do filmmakers seek to educate an audience. Films teach us, at best, a decent set of trivia for Jeopardy, but never have they been considered (rightfully so) as substantial sources of knowledge. Fiction seeks reaction, not retention.
However, an address on the genre of biofilm: misguided. These 'true' life stories often boil complex figures down to 120 minute servings. Cinema concerning the 'real' should be turned to as an afterthought of research. Cinema should reward knowledge. The people most deserved of remembrance are often the hardest to compress into film. The greatest biopic: I'm Not There. It appreciates Bob Dylan, rewards those who have followed his life and work, makes no definitive summary, no attempt at a thesis on his person or effect. The filmmaker is surely a supreme authority of Dylan, but acts as if in a room with other such fans, not at a podium before a crown of befuddled dolts.
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