7 posts tagged “blogging”

A Repetition of Procrastination --

     We seem to do this every year now without fail. Our output seems to consist of doing one real project a year with one or two other shorts (moreso if you include the Team Internet stuff Derek does with his other friends) randomly assorted sometime around that one project. Not an ideal situation if you're trying to break into the whole film business and/or build up a portfolio for graduate school. Since forming The Breakfast Machine about three years ago we've made some films that really stood out amongst our friends, but for the most part I feel like I haven't been contributing as much as I should be.
    It's just hard to find motivation sometimes, especially when you're working with such outdated, low-budget equipment. We're pretty much reliant on natural lighting and in-camera audio - which, if you've ever worked with a low-end Hi-8 camcorder, you know is a pretty crappy way to do things. Sometimes it can be hard to get the right shots because of technical limitations. And then there's the lack of good actors. Somehow between the main four of us (myself, Mari, Derek, and Tommy) we don't really know too many people who are willing to be in front of the camera, let alone take on a starring role. We wind up having to be in our own films, which can be somewhat difficult if you're also trying to direct or otherwise view things semi-objectively.

    So follows the same repetition of our workflow for 2008, although this time we started a lot later (we usually try to finish a film before spring so we can submit it to our college's film festival), and we're looking at completing two seperate projects. The first, naturally, is Purgatory, a short I wrote sometime last year and never got around to completing due to changes in my housing situation and because I kept altering the script. The second is an adaptation of Raymond Chandler's short story, Pearls are a Nuisance, which I read in The Simple Art of Murder this past spring. This past weekend Derek and I spent most of the afternoon discussing ways to both modernize and adapt the story in a way that we'd be able to do it, and we even found a radio show of it from 1945 (check it out here).
    To top things off, since it's The Breakfast Machine's third anniversary we're trying to (finally) get a logo and start up a website so we can look official and maybe begin to take our group in the direction of a real business. It's something I've been dreaming of since our inception, and it's not unreasonable to think that we can succeed in this field so long as we put our minds and talents together and, most importantly, focus.

Status Reports --

    In terms of the actual projects themselves, everything is moving at a decent pace. I'm in the middle of rewriting the Purgatory script (how many times have I said that though?) and two scenes for the as-of-yet untitled Pearls adaptation are finished. The former we can technically start shooting anytime, since I already have the scenes planned out and most of the dialogue can be improvised; it's a technique we've used more than once (see Apt. 309 for a good example). As for the other, we need to start planning out locations, making sure all of our friends and fellow crewmembers are on-board, and finalize the story. It's not that hard when you're working with pre-made material, but when it's from the 1930s-1940s it's a bit of a challenge trying to adapt it so it easily translates to modern times without completely overhauling everything.
    Really we've just begun, so hopefully I can motivate myself by posting periodic updates and perhaps some screenshots from the work we'll be doing. Until then...

    One thing that's been missing from this film blog has been reviews of the films I've been watching lately. I mean, if my resolution is to watch 120 new movies during the course of the year, I'm bound to come across a lot of good, bad, and horrendously terrible films. Why shouldn't I have something to say about them? After all, with a B.A. in Film & Digital Media I should be thinking critically, analytically, and serioously about each and every film I come across. And so begins the monthly series I've named "The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly", after one of my favorite westerns (as if you couldn't decipher that on your own, right?).
    Here are the rules: (1) You don't talk about GBU; (2) You do talk about movies seen during the month; (3) Pick three movies, one that was good, one that wasn't so great, and one that was just plain crap; (4) Explain why the movie was awesome or why it sucked; (5) Rinse and repeat once a month. Shall we begin the first session?

The GOOD: Surf's Up (2007) --

    I was really surprised with this film. Truly. Originally my girlfriend wanted to watch it because she loves surfing, she loves cute animated films, and she heard Surf's Up was good. It's been on Encore lately so one night we decided, what the hell, let's watch it. Honestly, I was expecting yet another decent CGI movie with cutesy characters, a barebones feel-good plot, and a few laughs here and there, but Surf's Up really defied all of these expectations.
    First off, the decision to stage the film as a pseudo-documentary/mockumentary was one that - as far as I've seen - hasn't been done in a mainstream animated film. This style not only makes the film a little more engaging for viewers - with handheld camera movements and the ability for characters to break fourth-wall conventions and seemingly interact with the audience - but also allows for a greater degree of freedom when it comes to character development. And the characters in Surf's Up, while sometimes cliche for a movie of this kind, are pretty nicely developed through this method. Of course, one problem with the use of documentary aesthetic is that sometimes there's no real excuse for the camera to be there, and some scenes certainly lose the feel of authenticity because of it.
    Another thing that struck me about the film was the incredible quality of the visuals. Water is always hard to texture and animate in a CGI film because there's just so much random movement and fluidity that it's easy to gloss over and forget about. But when you're dealing with a film about surfing penguins then you really can't ignore the water effects, and I have to say, I have yet to see better water effects in an animated film or video game. The other textures were also beautifully done, as were the characters and their movements. A definite nod to the animators for their attention to detail.
    Overall, Surf's Up is quite a stand-out film in the growing field of 3D animated films that have become popular in the US since Toy Story (1995) was released. It's perfect for younger audiences but has enough general appeal to satisfy practically anyone. I have not been impressed by a CGI film since The Incredibles (2004), and I'm always glad to see 3D animation done in a way that doesn't totally tank (cough, Matrix Reloaded, cough).

The BAD: Suicide Circle (a.k.a. Suicide Club) (2002) --

    It's never good when a film you've heard so much about and have always wanted to see turns out to be pretty bleh, and that's exactly how I felt by the times the credits started to roll at the end of Suicide Club, the first film of Sono Sion's trilogy. Most people will probably disagree with me on this, but the biggest problem I had with the Sono's film is that by the end it made no sense at all. The plot itself is a nice hybrid of typical horror and detective conventions seen in other Japanese-inspired horror films like The Ring (2002) and The Grudge (2004), but somewhere towards the second half of the film all semblence of sense and convention breaks down and the film almost seems to suggest one thing but suddenly decide against it. Am I the only one who thought the ending was going to involve subliminal messaging and/or some form of weird cult made up of creepy children?
    Don't get me wrong, the film is actually fairly well made, utilizing a lot of hand-held camera movements and long takes to really suck you in, and the conventions I mentioned above really fit with the creepy story (I mean, it's people killing themselves in huge waves). The social commentary is also quite apparent, given that Japan has a huge problem with suicide. However, much of the real power of the film is lost due to the lack of both sense and closure. And, from what I've read, the sequel - Noriko's Dinner Table (2006) - doesn't quite fill the void.
    It's funny, but when my girlfriend and I talked about it afterward, I realized that Suicide Club is a lot like Haruki Murakami's After Dark: the writing is great, the characters are all interesting and well-developed, and the plot is fairly riveting, but by the end you realize the entire thing throws itself off the cliff before reaching the summit (actually, that seems to be a suitable metaphor for this movie). It's more unfortunate than it is bad really, which is why it's the Bad for June, as opposed to the Ugly.

The UGLY: The Forbidden Kingdom (2008) --

    It's usually difficult for me to get so riled up about a film that I'll sit and have a heated debate about it for a good forty-five minutes almost half a week after I've seen it. Somehow, The Forbidden Kingdom managed to do just that, and the reasoning behind it is why I've chosen this film as the Ugly for this month. There are a number of things I absolutely despised about this film, ranging from the plot - based on a very, very loose retelling of Journey to the West - to the decentralization of the lead characters in favor of some lame Asiaphile white boy.
    The plot of the film is pretty much a carbon copy of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles III (1993), in which the protagonist of the film, some kung-fu obsessed white kid from the mean streets of contemporary Boston, discovers the legendary staff of the Monkey King, Sun Wukong, is an old Chinatown pawn shop and gets sent back in time to a mythical Tang Dynasty China. There, he is made to fulfill the quest of returning the staff to its rightful owner, and along the way is joined by a drunken scholar (Jackie Chan) and a monk (Jet Li). Oh, and the beautiful-but-deadly young female who - obviously - the white kid starts to fall for. I don't know about you, but I certainly see how the Hollywood power-play comes into effect here: when you're billing this as a film starring two of the world's most famous martial arts superstars, why include a character who has absolutely no business in the story? And to top it off, why make him the only white kid in the film? As opposed to what you might think, there weren't many Caucasians running around China in the Tang Dynasty, let alone speaking English.
    Another thing I'm mad about is how badly all of the actors seem to be in this film. With such stars as Jackie Chan, Jet Li, and even Colin Chou you'd expect The Forbidden Kingdom to at least showcase their acting abilities in a well-developed manner. But no, they all continue to be placed in horribly stereotypical roles - Chan with his silly, drunken master role, Li with his unsmiling and serious monk role (though his Sun Wukong is funny to watch), and Chou as the make-up wearing bad guy who sounds "right out of a comic book", as Jim Kelly would put it. Naturally, the white kid's acting is also pretty bland.
    I could go on and on about all the other little things I disliked about The Forbidden Kingdom, but instead I'll end my review with a positive note. This is probably one of the few Hollywood films that does martial arts action in a good way. Naturally, whenever you have Yuen Woo-Ping it's a good thing, but the director seemed to allow him, Chan, and Li a lot of freedom in terms of the fight scenes, which are face-paced and beautifully choreographed. While that may be the saving grace for some, like my friend Derek, it's not enough for me to consider this film good by any means.

The WRAP-UP --
    That's all for this month's installment of the Good, the Bad, and the Ugly. It wasn't too difficult picking from this month's films (head over to my 43 Things or All Consuming page to see what else I watched), although for a moment I considered replacing The Forbidden Kingdom with Troll 2 (1990). Although universally considered one of the worst films of all time, Troll 2 does have one saving grace: it's downright hilarious, which is more than I can say for The Forbidden Kingdom. Anyway, I need to get started on watching my ten films for July. I've been downloading a ton of Asian films lately so my list will probably be pretty centered around them. Until next month!

    In a (vain) attempt to start blogging more - now that I actually have time to do so, what with college being just about over with - I'm going to attempt to regularly update all of my multimedia blogs. Perhaps I'll start updating my personal blog as well, though I somehow doubt that, since most of the people who can actually read it I see and talk to on a constant basis. Given that today is Wednesday, I've decided to update Film Major on Wednesdays. I'll start out updating once a week with major topics, and perhaps I'll sprinkle in some minor posts here and there when I feel like it. I'll have a lot of time this summer to work on blogging and personal projects, so I'll do just that.
    Of course, I'll start next week. I've still got another final paper to write for tomorrow and my graduation on Saturday, so I can't possibly muster up anymore focus than I'm already devoting. Besides, I've yet to find a stable audience (not even my girlfriend will read my lengthier posts, haha), so I can afford to skip this week. Perhaps instead I'll go back and rework some of my entries, fixing things like spelling errors, tags, et cetera.

    Until next week, when I'll be an official college graduate!

    Oh god, do I hate winter quarters. Usually they consist of difficult and/or crappy classes, procrastination, and overall boredom with everything I'm going in general. Aside from skipping unimportant lectures (they're not film-related anyway) I've spent many hours on my PlayStation3, not only with games like Warhawk and Wild ARMs, but watching some DVDs with my girlfriend and roommate. And while I've been good on keeping most of my resolutions, I've yet to really do anything of value this quarter in terms of personal projects.
    There's the research for my Senior thesis, but I'll hold off on discussing that until after I do a substantial amount of research.

    Perhaps later this week I'll do another post with something a little more ... I don't know, "meaningful"? In the meantime, I found a neat little Asian torrent site that actually links to a lot of good films, including obscure films by directors like Edward Yang, Jiang Wen, and Jia Jiangke. Check it out.

   There's a reason why I haven't blogged in almost a week, and it's because I had to write a little over fifteen pages' worth of essays during that time. Ah, midterms. I'm sure after graduation when I have nothing better to do but work I'll actually miss them. Speaking of which, my quarter is ending in another three or four weeks, which means finals are right around the corner. For me that entails two more lengthy essays and a final project for my seminar on film theory. The other day I came up with an idea of what I want to do.
   The assignment essentially calls for a project that expresses how each of us in the seminar views cinephilia, and we can do this in any way we want to so long as there's the inclusion of a written portion (another eight or ten pages). Some suggestions my professor noted included an autobiographical element, something I've always been good at (well, most people should be good at talking about themselves). Immediately I thought of writing about my passion with collecting DVDs.
   My DVD collection's currently sitting at 110 (box sets and multi-disc movies count as single DVDs), with three more on the way that I wound up winning on eBay for a good deal. Before the year ends I'm hoping to bring that number as close to 150 as possible. Why? Because I want to build a massive library of films that I like - and I just happen to like a lot of films. One of my bad personality traits happens to be that I'm a huge materialist, and I attribute that to growing up on the edge of being poor. My theory is that if you spend money on something, you should be given a tangible object, something you can keep and enjoy again and again. I'm not a big fan of one-time experiences, especially the more enjoyable ones, which is why I don't go to the movies as often as I'd like these days. It's just too expensive, and if I'm going to spend that much money I might as well go to Streetlight and get a DVD for the same price.
   To tie in to that part about materiality, I have to say that I just love how my collection looks. Whenever I look at my bookshelf and see it filled with movies I just have to smile. There's a kind of pride in having such a huge collection because it represents a part of myself. One girl in my seminar talked about her library of books. She said that even though she probably won't ever reread the majority of her books, she loves keeping them on display because it gives a measure of "intelligence" and "experience" (her words) - it shows others that she's read those books and consumed them. To an extent I agree with that position as well.

   Another facet of collecting I'm interested in exploring is how certain companies seem to cater to those types of crowds. Take The Criterion Collection, for example (the word "collection" is right there), and the more recent Dragon Dynasty. Both companies prominently tag their DVD releases with numbers and keep a catalog list that acts as a handy checklist of sorts. And, if you like the films they put out, collecting them all becomes a habit because you know that there's some kind of overarching element that connects them all; one film leads to another through a common connection.
   The same goes, in a way, with "special editions". They feel special, and having those editions instead of regular, more mass-market editions gives you a sense that you own something slightly more valuable. And typically they're a better value, especially on sale. I made the mistake of buying the single-disc edition of Pan's Labyrinth when it first came out on DVD, and a week later I saw the two-disc set for only $5 more. Needless to say, I kicked myself for that blunder. Hard.
   I think based on this idea, of special collector's editions, I want to make my own DVD, cover and all. My essay will take the form of a booklet insert, and the DVD itself will ... actually, I'm not sure. I was thinking of doing a short film asking people about their own forms of collecting and/or viewing experiences, but that might take more time to do. We'll see how I feel by next week. I definitely need to do the writing portion as soon as possible, especially since I have to present my outline in two weeks.
   But hey, I think it's a good start. My DVDs are a big part of my life, and I hope that I'll be able to pass them on when the time comes.

   The other day in my film theory seminar we talked about the relation between cinephilia (which is the overall focus of the course) and knowledge. We're supposed to write a five-page essay about it before November 5th, but I figured why not bounce some ideas around on my blog? Anyway, we're being asked to write about what it is the exact correlation between these two things, using  Metz's idea of film as a "socio-psychological" tool and examining one of these two books and their respective film:

     Ah yes, the introduction. There always needs to be an introduction to every film, every book, every story. Hell, every blog too, I suppose. Every time I start up one of these things I always start with some kind of introductory post. "Hi, my name is Will. I like stuff and I hope you find me interesting enough to read my blog. Later!" One of those. For some reason it's just so hard for me to start up a blog en media res, because it feels so incomplete. Maybe that's why my films are almost never like that either (eventually I'll write a post dedicated to my take on filmmaking).

    So, let's see. What to write for an introduction. Oh, I know, I'll talk about why I'm starting yet another blog. The purpose of this blog is for me to talk solely about a subject that I've been studying now for the last three years: film. Given that I'm now in my fourth year of college and I've finally narrowed my focus to film history and theory, I figured I might as well start writing about film on a daily basis. I mean, I've been writing theoretical essays every few weeks for the past three years, so a couple of free-form posts shouldn't be too difficult to manage, right? Right...?
    They always say that you should never major in a subject you love, because it takes all the fun out of it. To a certain degree I'd say that's true; originally I came to college to major in creative writing, but I've seen put down the pen and concentrated on another area that has now changed my entire way of thinking. I can never watch a film the same way again, unfortunately, thanks to Sergei Eisenstein, Laura Mulvey, and Christian "Mirror Stage" Metz. Still, there's a part of me that feels like this is the way everyone should be thinking about film, because it's not (always) just a mass entertainment medium. It has the power to really move you, to make you think seriously about something. D.W. Griffith seemed to think so.
    I'm not going to just post film reviews and other trivial things that even a ten-year-old with a Xanga could do. I have more important thoughts in my head that sometimes I just can't keep bottled up, or ones that I just have to write down for my own importance before I forget it. Sure, I'll still post reviews here and there when I see a film worth watching (or one so utterly terrifying that you'll want to stray away from it completely), but I want this blog to have a more theoretical approach.
    Hell, I've got to deal with this stuff every day as a film major, so I might as well put it to use.

    And there's my introduction. It's a short one, but then again I spent most of my morning finishing up a four-page paper for one of my classes since it's due today. Besides, I've got some free time here at work, and I figured I might as well do something productive.
    Eventually I'll come up with a more interesting title for my blog, and maybe I'll change around the design when I feel like putting in the effort. I don't expect people to read this - much like my personal journal or my Live Journal that I update every month or so - but it does still feel like I'm writing for someone. An anonymous someone, I suppose. The imaginary audience. Until then, I'll think of something more important to write.