At the Art House: Rampart

Rarely has there been a character as explosive as officer Dave Brown in Oren Moverman's new film Rampart. As played by Woody Harrelson, Brown becomes a significantly complex character whose dramatic mood swings, brutal narcissism, and self-loathing ultimately make him one of the most realistic people I've seen in a long time. However, the movie itself compliments this, as Moverman and crime-writer legend James Ellroy refuse to judge Brown on his actions. He is never given glory or punishment at the end, and the viewer is forced to come up with a portrait of Brown themselves, even when it is almost impossible.

Brown is a police officer in the corrupt Rampart district of the late 90's. Having been on the force for over 20 years, Brown has no room left for "good cop" tactics and constantly berates his victims through voice and action. This is probably just a reflection of his horrendous home life, where he married and then divorced two sisters (Cynthia Nixon and Anne Heche) but made a daughter with each (Brie Larson and Sammy Boyarsky). His inability to connect with any of them deepens once he is caught on tape beating a man almost to death after being hit head on by his car. What opens next is an intense internal affairs investigation, what could be a massive conspiracy to get rid of Brown, street urchins potentially blackmailing him, a new lover possibly connected with an alleged murder he committed, and a massive cleaning of house in the Rampart division.

Like many crime thrillers, Rampart has an astonishingly convoluted plot, and like any good noir, is filled with shady characters. There is something about Moverman as a director that allows him to get incredible performance out of his cast. Heche and Nixon are searing as his ex-wives, whose yelling and screaming at him hurt even more because what they say is true. Larson and Boyarsky are the most surprising, giving sharply naturalistic performances in what could of been caricatures instead of three-dimensional figures. As Brown's new bipolar lover, Robin Wright is also devastating. Her and Brown are probably meant for each other, as each end up hurting everyone around them. Sigourney Weaver is also great as Brown's case worker, and even Ice Cube seems right at home portraying a police officer.

But the movie is Harrelson, and he makes it his own in the role of a lifetime. If this movie had a bigger budget and safer content, Harrelson would have been looking at an Oscar nom last year for sure. He is alternately vicious and self-centered to the criminals and citizens around him, but also kind-hearted to his children and the patience of saint when it comes to his ex-wives. In all honesty, he is a bad person through and through, but that doesn't make him a less complicated person. We never know if we are too feel pity for him or just laugh at his self-constructed circumstances. Brown is always a few seconds away from exploding, he feels dangerous yet this macho shell is surprisingly brittle as the film shows us towards the end. One word of his daughters' disappointment in him sends him reeling unlike any police investigation can.

Moverman, whose debut film The Messenger was equalling searing and intense as this one, looks at Brown with intense, almost documentary like precision. The movie's canvas is a sun-scorched Los Angeles, where you can almost taste the asphalt, feel the heat, and see the eyes of its multi-racial populous on you constantly. It is a credit to Moverman that he creates such an atmosphere, complementing nicely with such a volatile character as Brown. The cinematography is his biggest asset, utilizing handheld techniques and lens flares to create a sense or constant unease. The editing is also perfect for this kind of character and film, consistently changing pace and tone along with Brown's mood. From a comfortable scene with Brown and his youngest daughter, to a nightmarish, drug-induced rave outing, Moverman is unflinching in his observation of Brown through radical editing changes.

Rampart isn't all just doom and gloom though, it contains some scathing comedy from Harrelson. His intelligence exceeds his pay grade much to the disgust of his accusers, and his surprisingly articulate stance and bountiful life experience makes him fascinating to watch. He pervades questions hilariously with fake law cases (or maybe real) and quotes from officers before him. He can almost seem like a drop-out law student, too wild to be caged up behind a desk so he resorted to being a beat cop. The first third in particular presents this with sometimes horrifying comedy, and the result is a character who seems all the more intelligent for it.

For better, and sometimes worse, the movie is the character at its center. Like Brown, the film can drag in places and seem nonsensical in others. Characters are left wildly up in the air and not given the expected scene of redemption like most Hollywood fare. These flaws can be seen as virtues in a movie like this, every fault to one viewer will seem a stroke of genius to another. But if you open up to Moverman's rhythm, and Harrelson's career-best performance, you will see that Rampart is a rewarding viewing experience.

Overall: With an astonishing performance from Woody Harrelson and unflinching direction from Ore Moverman, Rampart succeeds quite well as darker than dark character study. A-  

Blog Post: Globalization

Globalization is the shrinking of distances between nations and cultures via new technology. This means that we are able to obtain different media and entertainment from other cultures that we would not have been able to 20 or so years ago.

However, we must see that America's domination of global media is very present. This kind of global imperialism is, unfortunately, very present today especially with film.  Almost always, American films dominate global box offices and even in industrial, english-speaking countries like England or Australia, movies made in the United States are heavily featured and publicized. Despite (or perhaps because) these countries are culture-linguistic to each other, America's domination of global cinema may never change. Theses countries see American films first before even their own.

When I visited my aunt in Germany six or seven years ago, I wanted to see what kind of german movies were playing at the local theater. Unfortunately, all I saw were American movie posters for American films.    I remember distinctly a poster for "Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines" and asked my aunt if they were at least dubbed in German for the population. She replied "occasionally". Then I asked, since they weren't dubbed often, did they at least have subtitles in German. She replied "never".  Despite this being some time ago, this furthers how much American cinema dominates other countries, much like English has dominated other languages. Movies seem to be a primary reason.

Blog Post: Advertising

This advertisement for McDonald's is, in my opinion, powerful and persuasive.  The reason is because, in bold print, it says "You deserve a MEGA Mac".  It tells me that my hard work and troubles have gotten me to this point where I deserve this burger.  It really is a pick me up ad that is supposed to tell me that McDonald's will always be there to pick me up and have my back on a bad day.

One of the potential appeals of advertising that professor Straubhaar that applies to this ad, is that it makes the product recreational and lead to a somewhat better life. Despite the ad's not very subtle attempts of trying to get you to buy their product, it does have a certain way of making the consumer feel better, which is in a sense, one of advertising's main drives and morals.

The ad I picked, represents this appeal because it shows how McDonald's appears to be the only one to understand what you are going through.  Even when everyone else doesn't understand your troubles or can help you with your work load, McDonald's is there with a good (and NEW!) burger for you to eat and enjoy.  Sure their main motive is to get you to buy their product, and this is supposed to trick you into thinking a large corporation cares about you, but it actually does have a relatively nice message that can help you if you wan it to.

Blog Post: Three Act Structure

The Three-Act-Structure is used for many conventional films that make the most out of it's protagonist's triumphs after his adversities.  Here in the comedy cult classic, "The 'Burbs", I will examine how screenwriter Dana Olsen and director Joe Dante used this to perfection.

In Act I, it is established that season suburbanite Ray Peterson (Tom Hanks) has quite unusual neighbors, the Klopeks.. They never go outside, mow their lawn or take care of their house. Rumors circulate as to what they eat and what happened to the previous owners, the Knapps. The plot point or "mini-clmax/peak" of the first act is when Ray, along with a portly and highly imaginative neighbor, Art, and a disgruntled Vietnam vet, Rumsfield, see one of the "huns from the cave" viciously slam their garbage into their garbage can after driving it down from their house in a thunderstorm.  Soon they all realize, their neighbors are more than meets the eye...

In Act II, it is established that an old retired ma down the street, Walter, has gone without a trace.  Since the three neighbors are worried for his safety from the Klopeks, they actually break into his house and see "signs of a struggle" including Walter's toupee.  Now surely the neighbors have kidnapped him and are eating him right now! So in effect the wives of the three men set up dinner with the Klopeks and what ensues is a hilariously awkward affair, until Rumsfeld finally brings up the missing Walter and Ray panics (the second plot point/peak), runs away and opens the door for the Klopeks dog which causes mayhem through the house.  The neighbors regroup and Ray agrees with the wives that the Klopeks are really just eccentric people. But secretly Ray brings Art and Rumsfield together and show him Walter's toupee which he found in the Klopek's house! So the next day they prepare an assault on the premises...

Act III consists of the three neighbors breaking into the Klopeks house while the Klopeks are out of town.  They look everywhere from the backyard until they reach the basement.  But at night the Klopeks (and more importantly, their wives) return and see what they have done: they accidently hit a gas line and blew up their house! Then the police come and give logical explanations to who the Klopeks are (respected doctor) and what happened to Walter (a heart attack but now recovered). So all is over for our "heroes" until, while Ray is in an ambulance to the hospital, Mr. Klopek tries to kill him (third plot point/peak)! Then Ray fights and is able to prove that they had intended to take Walter (the wig) and killed the Knapps (a trunkful of skeletons are in the back of their car).  So they were right and Ray returns home with his wife and kid in tow...

This is one of my favorite movies and everyone should see it.

Blog Post: TV sitcoms

An aspect of the TV sitcom that Colin Tate talked about in class was the way the characters developed or didn't develop in the series. Sense a sitcom does not usually have an arc to the stories, it relies on casual viewership.  This means the characters in the show usually go through some comically tough situations, but their overall demeanor, views, and personality remain the same throughout the series.

Characters in a sitcom rely on their consistency to draw laughs from an audience. It is because of their relentless consistency to their ideals even in the face of a life-changing moment that makes them comical, but not sad at all.

Take the character of George Costanza in the best show (let alone sitcom) ever made, "Seinfeld".  George is a compulsive liar, who has no regard for anyone in the world other than himself. So why do we as an audience not only find him hilarious, but the driving comic force of the show?  Simply because no matter what happens, no matter how severe the consequences, no matter how much dignity he loses, he never changes. He is steadfast to his ideals and remains the same pathetic, unlikeable, yet strangely endearing and gut-bustingly funny loser he always is.

Blog Post: Different shots/angles example

In lecture last week we learned about different shots and their literal and emotional purpose. The long, medium, and close-up shot are used everywhere, but my example comes from the show "Lost".

In the series finale, the final shot is of monumental importance to the show. It shows that our hero, Jack has saved the island and the original castaways left safely thanks to his efforts. When Jack is about to die and and enter a heaven with his fellow castaways in a purgatory for them all, the final shots show the beauty of his sacrifice.

At first there is a long shot of Jack finally crumbling to the ground after walking through the jungle mortally wounded. The long shot is a sad one representing isolation and loneliness. It does this to perfection.



Then they employ a medium shot of Jack to show the information that Jack is dying but he is not sad as the long shot implied. He is satisfied to know his purpose in life has been fulfilled and happy to see that his friends are safe.



Then the last shot of the show is a close-up which shows Jack's eye with a tear forming. From this close-up, we see that our initial perception from the long shot about Jack was wrong. He is not lonely our isolated as we feared. He is overwhelmingly happy and reflective on what he has done for the island and what the island has done for him, changing his life to see more than himself and his place in the world. As we have seen in the purgatory flash-sideways, we know this isn't the end for Jack, just the beginning of something new and wonderful that he sees too.



With that sense of closure, Jack can finally die in peace. He knows that there is more than just this and also that he has done what his destiny foretold, and changed his life in the process. His eye closes on another close-up for emotional impact signaling the end of Jack and "Lost" as a whole...



Great stuff...

Blog Post: Ol' Hollywood's Studio System

In the "Golden Age" of Hollywood from the 20's through the forties and really until the 50's, Hollywood practiced the "studio system" in which one studio would controlled all aspects of the production and every person involved. With this system it was easy to pump out seven movies a year with one major star since the studio owned what they would do, and usually it was the same type of movie every time. Maybe the biggest factor in his system, and what I found most interesting, was their use of movie stars and how they limited them to a certain type of film.

As Colin Tate said in his lecture, sometimes stardom trumps genre. Stars like Humphrey Bogart, Gene Kelly, and Errol Flynn had very specific roles to play in this studio system. Bogart would evolve into almost always playing the hard-boiled, morally questionable, but in the end, heroic good guy. This meant he he did a slew of detective movies which placed him in this role and the studio of Warner Bros. became known for their noir and detective movies. Kelly was always placed as a leading man in musicals which involved heavy dancing as well. MGM therefore, put out many musicals and much of them had Kelly doing this role over and over. Flynn became a staple for heroic action pictures and was a very big draw for the swashbuckling pictures of 20th Century Fox. The star power of these three people ended up helping the studios create what kind of genre films they would produce.

To show how these stars shaped their studios and genres let's look at movies where they played against type. When Humphrey Bogart played a villainous gold seeker (and gave his best performance) in John Huston's "The Treasure of the Sierra Madre", the film was a commercial and critical flop. Despite winning three Oscars, the film was not regarded as a classic until many years later. Kelly played a brutally cynical and miserable journalist in Stanley Kramer's "Inherit the Wind" and was not given much credit for his performance when released. It is now looked upon as one of his finest. Flynn probably is the best example, playing a self-pitying (though sympathetic) drunk in Henry King's "The Sun Also Rises". This impressive character turn for Flynn was very against type and the film proved to be a flop as well. Yet now it is regarded as truly his best performance.

What is described above shows how stars shaped what audiences expected out of their studios. They wanted a detective story, a showy musical, or a swashbuckling thrill but when these actors tried something different, it proved detrimental to their studios. Bogart could not play a villain at the height of his popularity. Kelly could not have purely dramatic role. Flynn could not play a drunk. The stars made the studio system, yet it provided very little freedom to show their skills and only years later can we fully appreciate the different roles they tried to do.