Triple Feature

Its been a bit more of a movie-going week than usual around here, though its taken me a few days to get around to blogging about it. I know, I know, I’m probably running late in making any sort of meaningful commentary about these three films that Derya and I watched, but you know what they say about the South - things move slower down here. Apparently this cliche is also meant to include the planes, trains, and automobiles used to transport feature-length film reels to my local theatres. I don’t know why it takes so long for them to get here, it just does - so for my tardiness, I apologize.

1. Lars and the Real Girl

On Sunday night Derya and I headed over to the dollar theater to see a film recommended off-handedly to me by a friend - Lars and the Real Girl. Having expected something quirky but heartwarming, I was completely surprised at how disturbed I was by both Lars and the general premise of his character’s dilemma. In short, an overly-awkward, shy, late-twenty-something played by Ryan Gosling falls madly (and somehow asexually) in love with a life-sized, big-breasted sex doll, whom he names Bianca. To give you a quick idea of this film’s aggravating quirks, Lars supplies his new, mute love with the persona of a half-Brazilian, half-Danish, uber-relig missionary with a nursing degree, and spends the majority of the film talking to her, serving her meals, taking her on dates, etc. Though this might SOUND adorable, believe me, the novelty wore off almost as soon as Lars cracked open her oversize delivery crate.

If you can believe it - Ryan Gosling’s emaciated, tormented, crack-addicted, school-teacher character in Half Nelson was INFINITELY more endearing than the obviously-Midwestern, chubby, seemingly-harmless yet TOTALLY CREEPY Lars. And even more ridiculous was the suspension-of-disbelief required throughout the rest of the film as Lars’ friends and neighbors encourage his delusions by inviting Bianca to parties, giving her makeovers, bringing her to volunteer at the hospital, and even electing her to the schoolboard! Basically, aside from a few hearty chuckles, I found Lars to be nothing short of aggravating. But all general weirdness/lack-of-believability aside, I’ll admit that the degree to which this film creeped me out was probably compounded in part by the general jankiness of the dollar theater: stale popcorn, Christmas Coca-Cola commercials popping on-screen in the middle of the film, weird squeaky sex-noises emanating from an unseeable couple in the back row, and a room temperature cold enough to freeze my nose. But I guess you get what you pay for, right?

2. Be Kind Rewind

Conditions were much improved on Monday night when we headed to the more-expensive (but proportionately more comfortable) Spartan 16 to see Michel Gondry’s latest Be Kind Rewind, a heartening, full-of-hijinks comedy in which Jack Black and Mos Def remake a whole slew of popular films after Jack Black erases an entire video store by turning himself into a human magnet. I need to preface here: I love Michel Gondry’s filmmaking. I love it so much. I think of his films as being sad, romantic, visually stunning, well-scripted, lushly decorated - basically hitting all of my top requirements for what I like to see in art. After Be Kind, though, I was wondering if my expectations for his work - rooted in this intense, aforementioned love - might be set slightly too high.

Both of Gondry’s last two films, The Science of Sleep and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, found much of their magic in combining suspensions of reality (as found in the limitless possibilities of dream-worlds, or in the labyrinthine innerworkings of our memories) with the surprising, unpolished sort of beauty that emerges from a stop-motion, paper-and-paste aesthetic. This in mind, I had assumed that the plot of Be Kind - one centered entirely around unpolished, DIY-style filmmaking - would do nothing but enhance these lush, magical qualities of Gondry’s previous work. But I forgot that this film’s plot requires its characters to remain rooted in a world of realistic limitations. Any escape from this, even into the slightly surreal, would negate the film’s entire premise. The result is that, this time, Gondry’s aesthetic seemed to be a little too sparse, a little too deconstructed, and much less vivid than his previous films.

Maybe I was just in a bad mood on Monday - maybe I’m growing too embittered to relish the heartwarming, escapist qualities of popular cultural phenomena - I’m not sure. But as much as I wanted to like Be Kind Rewind, the end-credits left me slightly disappointed. This is not to say I didn’t enjoy the film - I did! I laughed at its imaginative wackiness quite a lot! I guess I was just hoping that Gondry would reach a more poignant high than, when in the middle of the Ghostbusters-remake about 25 minutes into the film, Jack Black brought me to tears (the laughing kind) by playing a green-saran-wrapped Slimer lit internally by an industrial shop light.

3. Persepolis

Eager to get our money’s worth out of the expensive Spartan 16 tickets, and still searching for some respite from our collective feelings of perpetual-disillusionment-with-reality - a condition that manifests itself as abiding low-grade heartache - Derya and I extended our film excursion for another few hours, sneaking down the hall into what was inarguably the gem of my week/month/maybe even my next few months: Persepolis. Really, I can’t say enough about this beautiful, beautiful film.

Through strikingly simple, monochrome-only animation, Persepolis presents the autobiography of graphic novelist Marjane Satrapi with breathtaking grace and eloquence. Operating in the tradition of so many great bildungsromans, Persepolis strikes the coming-of-age chords that would resonate with nearly any viewer, commenting on so many of the universal pitfalls of adolescence: the intoxication of young love, the pain of heartbreak, the difficulties of friendship and fitting in, and how we deal with our ever-evolving relationships to our family. From the curious little girl eager for an engaging bedtime story, to the teenager so-rebelliously blasting contraband Iron Maiden tapes, Satrapi’s story feels intimate and familiar. And though Persepolis conveys much of its poignancy through the universal, it is just as engaging - if not moreso - in its foreignness, both literal and figurative.

Using 1980’s Tehran as its backdrop, the film offers a glimpse into certain cultural and political dimensions that, for most of its American audience, will likely seem distinctly unfamiliar. With adroitness and poignancy, Persepolis presents the austere injustices of oppression, asking the viewer to consider life in a society that seeks to snuff out political freedom and cultural enlightenment, along with romance and all of its trappings. And without relying on any graphic carnage or gore, Persepolis depicts the tragedy, the utter incomprehensibility of war. See this film, and then see it again. You won’t regret it.