Pigeon Army
Posts: 14611
Joined: 29/1/2006 From: Pixar HQ, George Lucas' Office.
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16. The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou (2004, Anderson, USA) - 4.5/5 It's not hard to notice that all of Wes Anderson's films (I've not seen Bottle Rocket) all hinge in some way on thematic exploration of the dysfunctions of modern-day familial relations. While Anderson dealt with the theme most successfully in his superlative 2001 film The Royal Tenenbaums, The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou sits pretty comfortably at second best in the pile, a sidekick, if you will, to the Tenenbaums. Steve Zissou is, by all accounts, a bit of a prick - he won't think twice about breaking into someone's sea lab and stealing their things, and seems to approach life as if he were always in the camera's lens - that is, forced and aggrandizing. Bill Murray plays him superbly, a figure who only inspires respect if you haven't taken the time to get to know him. When a thirty-something pilot named Ned arrives, claiming to be his son, Zissou's approach is one that is detached yet loving, a bizarre and oxymoronic treatment of the man that only leaves him at an arm's length of the man he wants to treat as his father. Anderson captures their relationship perfectly, at once warm and uninviting. Zissou's treatment of his son is different to that of his surrogate family, his crew (excellently played by the ensemble cast, and coming with the added pleasure of Seu Jorge singing Bowie in Portguese), because there is that possibility that Ned is actually his son, and it terrifies him. Murray captures all of this perfectly, giving one of the best performances of his career as a man wary of following through with the relationships he finds himself entwined in. Meanwhile, Anderson's idiosyncratic direction and writing is typically stunning, be it in his landscape-like framing (his shooting of the gunfight between Zissou and the Filipino pirates is an excellent example) or be it in the dialogue patterns and language he mastered long ago. Added to that is Henry Selick's best work since The Nightmare Before Christmas in bringing to life Anderson's gorgeously-imagined underwater ecosystem, beautiful and completely in line with the rest of the film. The Life Aquatic has often been looked upon as lesser Anderson, but this is absolutely not the case. It's one of his most heartbreaking, heartwarming, beautiful works yet, and deserves far more credit than it gets. 50. Morte a Venezia (Death in Venice) (1971, Visconti, ITA/FRN) - 3.5/5 Dirk Bogarde is Gustav Aschenbach, a world-famous composer staying in Venice for purposes of his health. While there, his eyes stray upon the young Tadzio (Bjorn Andresen), an androgynous young male who seems to inspire certain feelings in Gustav that he doesn't like yet can't possibly shake. Meanwhile, something is rotten in the state of Venice, and Gustav wants to know what the fuck it is. There's no doubt that Death in Venice looks exquisite. Visconti has an unrivaled eye for the opulent and elegant, and his capturing of the Lido Hotel and its beach is unmatched. It's an impossibly perfect landscape, and there are probably few better for Gustav's unraveling to take place in. However, when it comes to Gustav's occasional stwalks around Venice, there's an ugliness to it that forces one to confront the impeccable beauty of the Lido, where no-one tells Gustav the truth and a figure that represents both his emotional turmoil and his emotional enlightenment resides. Bogarde complements Visconti's amazing production design and visual direction excellently, his Aschenbach a wide-eyed, toffee-nosed upperclassman driven to self-destruction in the pursuit of beauty, as we're reminded time and again by the very on-the-nose flashbacks. Bogarde is haunting and hard to watch, but there's no doubt as to the power of his performance - unfortunately, the narrative seems rather unable to contain it, as it seems to demand something more than walking around, following the object of his madness, making inquiries about the posters all over Venice. It's a film that spends two hours promising a pay-off, and then doesn't deliver, and the flashbacks, which presuppose the audience's stupidity and telegraph the film's basic theme about the pursuit of perfection and the turmoil this folly provides (and then conveys it in an awful, shouty performance by Mark Burns - if I wanted to see what he does, I'd go to a Worker's Party protest on campus), don't help matters. It's just a bit hard to be fully captivated by a film when it is punctuated by scenes that tell you what it's about.
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