Tuesday, February 22, 2011

Somewhere

I just saw Sofia Coppola’s new movie: Somewhere. I’ve been excited about seeing this movie because Lost In Translation is one of my favorite movies. The movie is very similar to Lost In translation because it follows the daily life of a fictional celebrity who is dealing with increasing isolation and loss of identity within the shallow, image-obsessed world of celebrity culture. As with Sofia Coppola’s other films, there is very little dialogue and a feeling of emptiness, created by long takes and very little use of non-diegetic sound.

The movie begins with an extremely long take of a car driving around in circles. This is most likely a metaphor for the repetitive cycle of Johnny Marco’s life, which is a feeling I think most people share within postmodern life. In another scene, we see Johnny lying in bed as he is being entertained by two almost identical-looking pole-dancers. It’s almost like we’re seeing a simultaneous reproduction of the image of male fantasy, which has been reified by our media-obsessed society.

There are several instances where the depthlessness associated with postmodernity is portrayed. One specific example is a press conference, where Johnny Marco is at a press-junket to promote his new movie. One of the reporters says that he is a Russian writer who is doing a book about the lives of Hollywood celebrities. Immediately after this, another reporter asks something like: “Your film seems to accent postmodern globalism,” at which point Johnny has a bewildered look on his face and asks her to repeat the question.

Throughout the movie, the interactions that he has with the people around him (excluding his family) seem to involve people commenting on the way he looks. His private assistant constantly tells him that he “looks great,” even though he usually is hungover and unshaven. This helps to emphasize the depthlessness of the image-obsessed celebrity culture that surrounds him.

Driving is another theme that is emphasized throughout the movie. Every time he has to go somewhere, he is shown either driving or being driven to that place. These scenes almost always have no sound, except for the sounds coming from the engine, or no sound at all. This emphasizes the emptiness and isolation caused by the postmodern space in which we all live.

The film makes several references to cell phones and the way that our “communication technology” is making us even more isolated. Of course, there are many other examples of postmodernism within this movie, however, I feel like I’m starting to ramble, and I don’t want to ruin the movie for anybody.  I really liked it, and I definitely suggest that anybody who likes Sofia Coppola’s films should go see it.

Monday, February 14, 2011

Phil Solomon, Jameson and L.A. Noire

    I went to the screening of Phil Solomon’s work on Thursday. I’ve been very interested in seeing his work, since I’ve heard mention of him several times over the past few years because of my slight obsession with all things Grand Theft Auto, as well as with Rockstar Games in general. I’ve always been interested in the Grand Theft Auto franchise since GTA 3 came out, because it was the first time anybody had attempted to create a virtual urban space that gave you the freedom to do anything you want in a world that was as close to a representation of “reality” as had ever been possible. Having been a film major, I was interested in the ability to create interactive media, which had the same political potential as film, and which, in my opinion, Rockstar games had come pretty close to achieving with games like Manhunt, Bully, Red Dead Revolver, The Warriors and the GTA series. This youthful optimism, however, became slowly jaded over the years (as the reality of life set in) and I had to focus all of my time on school and work. I was pleasantly surprised, then, to find that GSU had invited Phil Solomon to show his films based on the games that I had wasted so many days of my life playing.
    Unforunately, because of work obligations, I didn’t get to attend any of the panels, but I did stay for the entirety of the screening and the Q&A session. One of the things I found particularly interesting was his comment on memory and its relation to the virtual space. He said that he noticed while playing the Grand Theft Auto games that he was able to memorize the layout of the virtual space (which turns to take, how to get to certain places) the same way that we are able to memorize the layout of actual space, although it was just a series of images being rendered in real time. I found this interesting because I had experienced the same thing, to the point where I knew my way around the game space just as well (if not better) than I knew my way around the streets in the real world.
    Another thing I found interesting was his mention of L.A. Noire (another Rockstar game), which I have read about and have been anticipating for a while. It’s sort of a film noire take on the video game medium and follows the story of a Los Angeles detective in the 1940s. After having read Jameson’s theories on pastiche and nostalgia films, this game fits right in with his assessment. The game, which is supposed to be a photographic recreation of the city of Los Angeles in the 1940s, shows a stylized historical representation of an earlier period in history, for which we have only have the ability represent through the period’s style in reference to our own point in time.

Monday, February 7, 2011

Ideas on Inception and "The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction"

   I watched Inception (Christopher Nolan, 2010) for the first time this last week. After two viewings and looking at some of the theories that have been discussed on the internet as to the meaning of the whole thing, I think that I’ve got a pretty good idea of what it all means.
   One of the most interesting articles I found was at CHUD.com. The author of the article, Devin Faraci, suggests that the whole movie was a dream, including the parts where Dom Cobb (Leonardo DiCaprio) is an extractor who performs corporate espionage by penetrating people’s dreams and stealing their thoughts. He goes further to suggest that the movie is an autobiographical work about Christopher Nolan and his work as a director, similar to Fellini’s 8 ½. In this case, Cobb, who breaks into people’s dreams, represents the director. Arthur (Joseph Gordon-Levitt), who is the researcher, represents the producer who sets everything up. Ariadne (Ellen Page), the architect, represents the screenwriter who creates the world that the dreamer will enter. Eames (Tom Hardy), referred to as the forger, represents the actor, who assumes the form of other people in the dream world. Yusuf (Dileep Rao), the chemist, is the technical guy who furnishes the chemicals necessary to create the shared dream state. I would go even further to say that Yusuf is the cinematographer – where the camera is the dream-sharing “apparatus” and the sedatives used to facilitate the dreaming could be considered the actual film in the camera. Finally, Saito (Ken Watanabe) is the financier of the dream (or film) and Mark Fischer (Cillian Murphy) - the corporate guy being targeted - represents the studio system.
    With all that being said, the movie is the dream. The shared “dream” is the collective consciousness we all share as the audience, while the dream represents the director’s dream, which he seeks to share with the audience, and the ideas implanted in our minds by the movie represent the inception taking place. Walter Benjamin talks about this concept in The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction. He says that: “thanks to the camera… the individual perceptions of the psychotic or the dreamer can be appropriated by collective perception. The ancient truth expressed by Heraclitus, that those who are awake have a world in common while each sleeper has a world of his own, has been invalidated by film – and less by depicting the dream world itself than by creating figures of collective dream.” The movie, therefore, could be considered a metaphor for the filmmaking process. On the psychoanalytical level, one could say that the catharsis achieved through the shared dream state represents the catharsis achieved for the filmmaker in sharing his vision with the world as well as the catharsis achieved by the masses in the reception of the film as distraction.
    On another level, I would suggest that the subplot involving the penetration of the corporate mogul’s dream to implant the idea of the will, which dissolves the corporation into smaller companies spread equally among the investors, could represent the studio system’s control over the film capital and the capitalist exploitation of the medium of film. The will would represent the property relations that Benjamin speaks of, and the inception of the idea to change the will to split up the company could represent the revolutionary change of property relations (redistribution of wealth) that could be attained through the use of film. Benjamin puts forth this idea and says: “there can be no political advantage derived from this control until film has liberated itself from the fetters of capitalist exploitation.” So, Christopher Nolan, represented by the extractor, is using the film (the dream) as a means to reclaim control of the film capital in favor of the proletarian masses through the use of collective consciousness.
    Obviously, there are many more levels to the reading of this film, however, I felt like this was one level that hadn’t been explored yet. Analyses of the dream within a dream, and whether or not the whole movie was a dream have been described at length many times in message boards and other blogs. As a result, I don’t feel the need to explain these theories.  I do believe, though, after having read The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction, that Benjamin would have come to similar conclusions.