"Catfish" Review

“Catfish” is a difficult film to talk about without spoiling. The sensationalist trailer gives a deliberately one-sided peek at a film which is ultimately defined by its ending. Expectations should probably be mediated, however—“Catfish” isn’t going to blow your mind. In fact, the outcome of this social networking mystery is rather straightforward, but no less brilliant for it. This is a film where palpable suspense cedes way to an unconventional and thought-provoking character study. Maybe the best introduction I can offer is that I really liked it.

Arriving in a market practically gorged with tongue-in-cheek faux documentaries, it’s initially difficult to take “Catfish” at face value. The story begins innocuously enough; Yaniv “Nev” Schulman has just had his first picture published in the New York Times when a package arrives at his office containing a painted replica of the photo. The artist is a 12 year-old admirer, and her correspondence begets a peculiar Facebook friendship. As Nev becomes involved with her and her family, however, he begins to notice certain inconsistencies with the perfect lives they lead online.

Much of the build-up feels stagey, and surely something is amiss, because either filmmakers Henry Joost and Ariel Schulman are considerably more talented directors than they portray themselves as, or they are not being entirely forthcoming. The prevalence of the camera during seemingly random moments that become key scenes seems perhaps a bit too fortuitous, and the placement and framing of the shots themselves seem too precisely calculated to have been captured on the fly for this amateur guerrilla venture.

Yet it doesn’t matter in the slightest. “Catfish” is about calling our willingness to accept unsubstantiated information into question, and thus encourages a skepticism and natural inquisitiveness towards itself. The entire thing could be fabricated, and its creators have a built-in ace in the hole. Falsifying a non-fiction film about false identity could add a brilliant meta layer to the puzzle.

That being said, I don’t believe that Joost and Schulman invented the whole thing. Somebody get these guys a pen and paper if they did. Rather, I tend to identify with the prevailing online rumor that suggests the ending was shot first, with some or most of the first half consisting of retroactive reenactments. But though I question the authenticity of certain moments, whether or not they are genuine seems beside the point—“Catfish” is an effective film.

The foundation of that success lies in its solid technique. The gradual rationing of information and the introduction and unraveling of the central mystery is surprisingly well handled. The plot is obtuse and intense when it needs to be, and the suspense is so potent that some have even been let down that it never becomes an all-out thriller.

But suspense has the tendency to be undervalued in an of itself, and the suspense in “Catfish” is an exceptionally executed, integral part of the ride. The film, on the whole, works not only because of its moments of seizing, visceral tension, but because of the greater message it evokes. In hindsight, scenes like those exploited in the trailer featuring Nev and his buddies arriving at a quiet farm in the dead of night seem downright silly when compared to where they eventually end up.

“Catfish” has been getting a ton of very positive press recently, and it deserves much of the praise it’s received. But backlash follows hype like a shadow, and I have a feeling that those swayed into seeing the film who might not have otherwise will enter with unrealistic expectations. It is a fascinating, offbeat experiment, but it still appeals to niche interests. The extent to which we let ourselves believe that the internet is a direct extension of our preceptory senses can be dangerous—But I’ll say no more. I don’t want to spoil anything.

4/5

FARCE/FILM Episode 64: Let Me In, Catfish

--> Episode 64: 10/10/10 <--

Hosts: Colin George, Brian Crawford, Kevin Mauer

Intro – 00:00

Top 5 – 01:09

Let Me In (spoilers) – 13:10

Catfish (major spoilers) – 28:56

WMD – 01:00:24 (Me and Orson Wells, Zodiac, Enter the Void, After Hours, Audition, Shortbus, Close Encounters of the Third Kind, I Love You Man)

E-mail and Outro - 01:22:28

(What do actors do all year?)

"Let Me In"

Colin:
Kevin:

"Catfish"

Colin:
Kevin:
Crawford:

-- Weekly Discussion --

Between Catfish, The Social Network, and Zodiac, this week our hosts discuss the importance of factuality in storytelling. Is it more important that a documentary or adaptation be 100% truthful or that it tell a compelling story?

"Enter the Void" Review

One thing’s for sure, you won’t leave Gaspar Noé’s “Enter the Void” with comparisons ready. More than likely, you won’t want to think about it at all. Over two and a quarter hours, the film hijacks your consciousness like a potent hallucinogen, and leaves you feeling burnt out and brain-fried on the other end.

Is it worth the trip? Yes, with an asterisk. After all, the opportunity to see something this flagrantly original comes but once in a blue moon, yet it isn’t the sort of experience many will enjoy having. “Enter the Void” begins with a strobing title sequence that explodes into a first person account of drugs and death in Tokyo; it ought to come with a seizure warning. Compounding matters, almost every scene is designed to look like one continuous shot, with the camera being placed either behind our protagonist Oscar’s head, or behind his eyelids. As if the pulsating neon lights weren’t enough, we’re also subjected to the split-second blackouts of Oscar blinking.

Visually, “Enter the Void” is unlike anything I’ve ever seen, but it sure ain’t perfect. The problem, bluntly, is its amorphous, front-heavy structure. The first half plays out conventionally enough, beginning with what we assume is the end, and playing flashback catch up to contextualize the subsequent events. We arrive back in the present to neatly tie the knot, only to discover that Noé isn’t remotely close to finished telling his story.

Where he takes “Enter the Void” in its ethereal second half is actually pretty fascinating, conceptually. However, it feels like an entirely different film. Noé floats aimlessly back and forth across Neo-Tokyo (to support the ‘one shot’ aesthetic, he rarely cuts directly from one location to another, often necessitating that the camera move through walls and entire buildings). The film really wears its premise thin during this overlong stint, though the last twenty minutes mostly redeem it.

The conclusion is a little predictable given that the characters seem to be arbitrarily engrossed by the Tibetan Book of the Dead, but it works because it boils “Enter the Void” down to its visual core. Somewhere along the way, the lines of the narrative are obliterated and Noé takes a hypnotically beautiful and bizarre psychosexual detour that bridges the gap to his ending nicely.

In retrospect, it’s easy to remember the curious power of its final moments and marginalize the boredom that divides it from the first, much stronger hour. The film would almost certainly benefit from a second viewing, but I’m still not entirely sure that I would ever grant it one. I seriously question how Noé and his editor could stand to watch and assemble this film all day every day, because even their 137-minute finished product is a workout for the eyes. God help us if it were released in 3D.

But for better or worse, eyestrain is part of the experience, and “Enter the Void” is more an incomparable experience than a great film. It’s a shame that the vast majority of its potential audience will never even have the opportunity to see it projected, as I can only imagine home video will diminish its psychedelic impact.

The best recommendation I can make is that if, like me, you go out of your way to see distinctly different films, you’ll get your money’s worth with “Enter the Void.” Objectively, it’s hard to deny the incredible creative scope and visual audacity on display, but it’s also hard not to wish the whole thing were just a wee bit more succinct.

It ain’t perfect, but “Enter the Void” is original, and there’s no undervaluing that. Hell, I’ll try anything once.

3.5/5

"Let Me In" Review

Remember when vampires played by the rules? When they only came out at night and actually bit necks? Judging by today’s glowering daywalkers, respect for that mythology has been all but Eclipsed. Ahem.

Maybe that was the fear with this remake of “Let the Right One In.” Hollywood had essentially defanged the vampire, and many—myself included—poo-pooed the notion that an American remake of a brilliant foreign film could be anything but fast-food imitation. Fortunately, we were dead wrong; Matt Reeves’ “Let Me In” is the rare sequel worthy of its original.

Still, it’s peculiar timing. Tomas Alfredson’s 2008 Swedish version is barely in the ground, less than two years old, and its English-language retelling is already in western theaters. And it appears mainstream westerners still aren’t interested; even sans subtitles, opening weekend box office returns were abysmal, evidence at least that they didn’t gratuitously sex it up.

Sexuality has been intimately linked with vampire myths for hundreds of years, but part of what made “Let the Right One In” so fascinating was the way it turned all that on its head. Seduction and lust had long been the vampire’s tool and victim’s vice, respectively; conversely, the film—based on a novel by Swedish author John Ajvide Lindqvist—illustrated an uncommonly innocent, romantic vampiric relationship. It’s the heart of the story, and a brilliant creative stroke that survives its Americanization unscathed.

That success is due in no small part to an equally talented young couple in the lead, this time Chloe Moretz—who, between “Let Me In” and her turn as Hit-Girl in “Kick-Ass,” has had one hell of a year—and Kodi Smit-McPhee, who impressively costarred alongside Viggo Mortensen in the 2009 adaptation of Cormac McCarthy’s “The Road.” Films about kids can be a risky proposal, but Moretz and Smit-McPhee subtly convey their ability to create authentic young characters.

The evolution of Moretz is particularly impressive. Many so-called ‘child-stars’ burn out hot and fast because they allow themselves to be typecast as a child. Moretz, on the other hand, seems to have futureproofed her career by never committing to a specific genre, and by never shying away from more adult fare. Though she always plays a child, most of her characters are not childish; we have no trouble seeing her already as a young woman—Or a centuries-old vampiress, as the case may be.

Beyond the performances, Reeves’ version is as solidly constructed as Alfredson’s. The pacing is deliberately slow, which can make either feel disengaging at times, but only if you’re already well acquainted with the plot of the other. Likewise, I found myself roundly less enthralled by “Let Me In,” if only slightly, because of my familiarity with the Swedish film. Neither is perfect, but despite a slight edge to the original in the subtlety department, the two films are practically interchangeable. “Let Me In” is like a good cover or acoustic version of an already great song.

Both versions are alike in their minimalistic framing, and to air one minor gripe the two share, they both feature ugly CG effects that mar certain moments. In “Let Me In” Reeves pulls back during action sequences to showcase just how fast his vampire moves, but instead of being disturbing, it comes across cartoony. The style juxtaposes the atmosphere of restraint he builds elsewhere uncomfortably. In a film this slow, he really has to nail the spikes, and he isn’t always successful.

Nevertheless, “Let Me In” is still a firm reminder of what the genre is capable of when treated maturely. It’s a shame that vampires have become popular as such silly caricatures of their former selves—the resounding thud of this film tanking will likely ensure it stays that way. As it turns out, it’s hard to win when you’re the only one playing by the rules.

3.5/5

FARCE/FILM Episode 63: The Social Network

--> Episode 63: 10/03/10 <--

Hosts: Colin George, Kevin Mauer, Suman Allakki, Laura Rachfalski

Intro – 00:00
Top 5 - 02:22
The Social Network – 05:45
WMD – 54:06
(Life As We Know It, Alice in Wonderland, The Last Exorcism, The Muppets Take Manhattan, Fringe, X-Files, The Hellstrom Chronicles, Top Gun, Waltz with Bashir)
Outro – 01:21:51


"The Social Network"

Colin:
Kevin:
Suman:
Laura:

-- Weekly Discussion --

This week, our hosts discuss “The Social Network” and “Toy Story 3” as the two best films of the year. What are your favorite movies of 2010?

"Jack Goes Boating" Review

"Jack Goes Boating", above all, is indistinct. My memory of the film isn’t yet a week old, and already the transience of its impact has set in. If the script, based with painful obviousness on a stagnant stage play, was really the material that made Oscar winning actor Phillip Seymour Hoffman want to throw his director’s beret into the ring, surely I must be missing something.

"Jack Goes Boating" doesn’t have an ounce of creativity, which is a shame because Hoffman honestly shows promise as a director, and the performances of his entire cast are superb. The unfortunate inevitability in following bum blueprints is that the whole thing collapses.

The mediocrity that practically oozes from its pores is enough to gag a man on scent alone. The undue theatricality of the writing is heightened by a fact that becomes obvious painfully early: you know exactly how it’s all going to turn out. Worse yet, you’re stuck watching the world’s two least articulate people fumble their way around their love for one another. Though to be clear, the film is by no means bad cinema. Hoffman, who plays the title role in addition to directing, has a great, subtle chemistry with his co-star Amy Ryan; a chemistry that’s completely wasted on a story as sharp as safety-scissors.

The plot, insofar as one exists, revolves around two modern couples living in New York City. The first (John Ortiz, Daphne Rubin-Vega) are married and appear to have it great. They introduce the second, their two awkward (or is it only?) friends, on a blind date. Hoffman and Ryan’s characters share a dinner during which neither appears to be having a good time, though both are apparently lonely enough to consider it a mild success.

And so the film tediously prattles on, drawing a heavy-handed comparison between the crumbling marriage and the fledgling courtship. Interspersed with these scenes are subplots where Jack learns to swim and cook, and Ryan’s character, Connie, deals with sexual harassment in the workplace. The entire film dovetails into an expectedly tumultuous climax, where everything can and does go wrong for our two couples before crescendoing into fifteen minutes of self-aware shouting that highlights its source material so transparently that you can practically see the stage.

Thankfully, the performances are opaque. Hoffman isn’t exactly challenging himself; he’s played broken, socially inept sweethearts on more than one occasion before, but it’s a character archetype he excels in. Ryan is as delicate and sympathetic as his companion, and we really do want things to work out well for them (even though that seems to be a foregone conclusion). Meanwhile, Ortiz and Rubin-Vega’s portrayals of Jack’s bourgeois acquaintances work on a performance level. Both feel authentic, but are ultimately sabotaged by their storyteller, who appears to have less understanding of them than they do.

"Jack Goes Boating" is another testament to the power of the screenwriter, in this case, to spoil everything great a film has going for it. For my money, Hoffman is one of the greatest actors working today, and he asserts himself here as a confident purveyor of images. The problem is, he chose weak material.

Though I hope he directs again, I question Hoffman’s taste as a storyteller. Perhaps he was just sharpening his creative knives for something juicier, but the memorable moments in "Jack Goes Boating" were few enough to have already been jettisoned from my consciousness.

Its impact may have dissipated, but first impressions last a lifetime. Here’s to hoping Hoffman’s next effort lives up to his talent.

2.5/5

"The Social Network" Review

The genius of “The Social Network” begins with the story that inspired it. The tagline on its poster, “You don’t get to 500 million friends without making a few enemies,” perfectly conveys the inherent dramatic irony; royal narcissist Mark Zuckerberg is today the champion of the web’s most popular socialization tool, Facebook.

It’s rich soil for screenwriter Aaron Sorkin, who imbues the material with his signature wit and a searing theatricality. Frankly, I’m not concerned with what small liberties his brilliant script took along the way—Not that even the most obscene inaccuracy could stymie the momentum he builds. The film is guiltier of embellishment than falsification, a crime for which he and director David Fincher should be awarded our highest praise. Fincher knocks this one out of the park with confident cinematography, nuanced performances from his cast, and layered storytelling that lends the film its surprising depth. On its surface, “The Social Network” is funny, brisk, and compelling, but underneath, it’s near rotting with angst.

Its moodiness and purposeful visual melodrama are its most unique assets. Fincher approaches the story from the position of Zuckerberg himself, striving for the honest emotional experience of each scene, with all the grandiosity of a nineteen year old’s perspective. To the layman, that means he finds a way to make sitting at a computer, or having a conversation in a crowded nightclub seem invigorating and fresh.

“The Social Network” is immediately in contention as his best film, but as much as Fincher brings to it, the lion’s share of the Mark Zuckerberg experience is etched in the long, perpetually unsmiling face of Jesse Eisenberg, who portrays him in the film. Eisenberg has a history of taking on lighter roles in comedies like “Zombieland” that has prompted some to unfairly label him “the poor man’s Michael Cera,” (though the comments seem to stem from Cera bashers themselves—There’s no pleasing those guys). Eisenberg’s turn here should slap the cynicism from any remaining doubters’ mouths. He owns the role; the callous calculation, the condescending sense of humor, and the introverted inner pain are expertly realized, and yet the true testament to Eisenberg is that Zuckerberg at his worst is a character impossible to truly hate.

And Eisenberg is matched by a cast of equal talent; Andrew Garfield plays Facebook’s co-founder, Eduardo Saverin, and Armie Hammer plays both of the Winklevoss twins, who together bring suit against Mark for intelligent property theft. The beauty of each character is that despite their muckraking in the deposition room, which acts as a framing device in “The Social Network,” none ultimately feels like the antagonist. As with the best cinematic scuffles, we indentify with both sides.

But as beautifully as the stars aligned for what is insofar the best film of 2010, “The Social Network” is somehow more than the sum of its parts. Its underlying themes of capitalist corrosion and the price of success are made all the more poignant given the age of its participants. Fincher has jokingly referred to the film as “The Citizen Kane on John Hughes movies,” but he honestly isn’t far off. Young love, rebelliousness, arrogance, and burgeoning identity play major roles in shaping the behavior of Sorkin’s characters.

And yet, for all their bitterness and hostility, “The Social Network” is still an exciting, encouraging film. Somewhere beneath the veneer, alongside the greased cogs in its innermost workings, the power of Mark’s idea gestates. Facebook, as silly and as trivial a subject as it may seem, is for many an essential communicative hub in their day-to-day lives. Watching Zuckerberg succeed beyond his wildest dreams, literally bringing strangers together while pushing his friends away, paints an oddly optimistic portrait.

The future for the internet generation seems bright in Fincher’s mind. Even as we make the gradual shift to living our lives electronically, even when we’re polluted by a consumer culture, and even when we lose sight of our humanity, some kid can still change the world.

5/5