"The Class" received some of the highest grades of any film last year, including a Best Foreign Language Film Oscar nomination, and the Palm d'Or at the Cannes Film Festival. And this was not the result of some stuffy cinephiles indulging in grade inflation.
This mesmerizing French drama unfolds in a cinema verite style in a Parisian classroom, where a multi-racial group of students take on a well-meaning but misguided young teacher. The instructor is played by François Bégaudeau, who wrote the book and screenplay based on his real-life experiences as an inner-city teacher.
I liked the way the school year unfolds organically, with some of the students commanding center stage as the movie begins, but eventually receding into the background as other figures come to the fore.
One girl, Khoumba, has a confrontation with the teacher that ends in a sort of detente where they have disengaged as learner and pupil. And at one point the teacher appears to have made a breakthrough with Souleymane, the tall boy who sits in the back and refuses to do his work, but later on an altercation escalates the tension for the entire class.
The DVD includes some extra features that are fairly limited in scope, but shed a great deal of light on the film's genesis.
An incisive 41-minute making-of documentary takes us right into the classroom where director Laurent Cantent trained multiple cameras on the classroom and encouraged his actors to improvise. Not only that, but he worked with them in workshops for months before shooting began, and their contribution helped in completing the screenplay. There's also some newsreel footage of the students reveling at Cannes.
Less interesting is a commentary by Cantent and Bégaudeau for only two pivotal scenes. Their discussion is interesting enough, but they actually stop and rewind the action so we can cut to the two talking heads. A full-length commentary track, minus the annoying cutaways, would have gotten higher marks.
"The Grapes of Wrath" is about the exploitation of people by other people. Since that's unfortunately a perpetual blight on the face of mankind, it's also part of the reason why the great 1940 film version of John Steinbeck's novel remains so timeless.
The film, directed by John Ford and starring Henry Fonda, feels relevant to current times in myriad ways. The economy isn't as much of a mess now as it was during the Depression of the 1930s. But there's the same sense of our fundamental values having gone out of whack. Corporations that are making healthy profits lay off workers as executives enjoy seven-figure bonuses. People are losing their homes for reasons they often can't even understand, to faceless entities they couldn't name. Whole families are forced to uproot, and like the iconic Joads travel an arduous journey to a destination that may hold no better promise for them.
In Steinbeck's novel, the regular farmers and folks are the sainted salt of the earth, at the mercy of bankers, powerful agricultural consortiums and the roughneck hooligans they hire to keep the workers in line. Although the film is more vague in its presentation of the moneymen, the enforcers are vivid and villainous. The fact that they wear badges and are called "deputy sheriffs" makes them even more contemptible, since their vocation is not upholding the law but preventing its just application.
Another way in which "The Grapes of Wrath" has resonance today is in comparing the Okie farmers' reception to that of illegal immigrants. There's an amazing scene where the Joads stop at a modern gas station to fuel up, and after they've gone the attendants describe them as less than human, even swine, because of their shambling appearance and rickety old truck piled high with belongs and human detritus.
In another scene, the Joads encounter a roadblock. A mob carrying torches and weapons stops them and surrounds the truck, ordering them to turn around. 'We don't want any more Okies like you coming in into our town and taking jobs away from those who already live here,' is the gist of their feeling.
Whatever one thinks about the flood of people crossing our borders (mostly the Mexican one) to find jobs -- I consider myself fairly moderate on this issue, though I'm probably closer to the Minutemen than La Raza -- the treating of other humans as chattel must infuriate anyone with an ounce of empathy.
It seems that wherever they go, the Joads are viewed as undesirable, even dangerous, simply because they are poor and have few prospects.
This was perhaps the greatest performance of Henry Fonda's career, though he would have to wait another 40 years to receive the Best Actor Oscar. As Tom Joad, the eldest son recently paroled from prison for manslaughter, Fonda has a harsher, more defiant aura than we're used to. In his many roles Fonda was usually a reassuring figure, the loyalist and company man, so to see him so convincing in this role as an agitator -- even if a reluctant one -- is striking.
A couple more points. The cinematography is by Gregg Tolland, who would go on to deliver his masterwork, "Citizen Kane," the following year, and in "The Grapes of Wrath" one can see him warming up. The play of darkness and light is hauntingly beautiful, and characters will often move in and out of the light in the midst of a piece of dialogue. John Ford often uses low angles to make certain moments more portentous.
Jane Darwell, as Ma Joad, won the Best Supporting Actress Academy Award, and deservedly so. Most people remember the rousing speech she gives right before the end credits roll, with the oft-cited line, "We're the people." But she has many other great moments throughout the movie, such as the scene where she burns mementos in the wood stove before they're forced to vacate their home. It's a wordless scene, ripe with power and glory.
Things are slowing down just a little bit this week, which is just fine with me.
I'll have a review of "District 9," a low-budget (by summer blockbuster standards, anyway) sci-fi thriller about aliens coming to live on this planet. Also one of "Adam," a quirky romantic comedy.
The DVD review will be the Oscar-nominated "The Class." And I'll have Reeling Backward columns on "The Grapes of Wrath" and "A Star is Born." That's the 1937 version, not the '54 or '76 versions with Judy Garland and Barbra Streisand, respectively.
Sleep in a little, but still get to the farmers' market early enough for the good stuff.
Wear green tank top, and your wife is wearing an orange T, and have her quip that we "look like peas and carrots."
Go to the gym and bench-press your age + 200.
Accept birthday wishes from loved ones, every single one of whom sent a funny card about being old.
Play a video game, because the day you're too old to play games, you truly have gotten old.
Take a nice afternoon nap with wife and pets all cuddled up together.
Install a webcam and take a picture with it for the awesomest blog around.
Deal with disappointment gracefully -- but stick to your principles.
Reflect on the fact that you still have all your own hair.
Take a ride in a 1969 Ford Mustang, the coolest vehicle that has ever been, or ever will be, produced by human hands.
Go to dinner at a really nice steakhouse, and (try) not to think about the tab.
Wrap your arms around the most beautiful girl in the world, and realize that despite all the things that have been lost during the year you turn 40, you have all the treasure you could ever want.
The show that made Gene Siskel and Roger Ebert the most famous film critics in the world is carrying on -- but with real critics.
Siskel died a decade ago, and Ebert had to leave the show in 2006 when cancer surgery robbed him of his ability to speak. Richard Roeper, Ebert's fellow Sun-Timeser, carried on with a variety of guest hosts, but last year Disney, which owns the show, decided to go in a "new" direction.
It turned out their new direction was with a couple of twentysomething hipsters with more attitude than critical standing. Not surprisingly, "At the Movies" took a nose dive.
Now things are being set to right. Phil Rosenthal over at the ChiTrib has got the scoop on the replacements: A.O. Scott of the New York Times, and Michael Phillips of the Trib. Both are respected critics with years of experience. “We tried something new last season and we think the world of Ben Lyons and Ben Mankiewicz," said Brian Frons, who oversees ABC Media Productions as president of daytime for the Disney-ABC Television Group. "They did everything we asked of them and they have been complete professionals. However, we’ve decided to return the show to its original essence – two traditional film critics discussing current motion picture and DVD releases. We thank them for their hard work and dedication this past year and wish them nothing but the best on all of their future endeavors.”
Sounds promising.
The only downside is that they won't be able to use the famous thumbs-up/thumbs-down symbols, which Ebert and Siskel's estate owns.
So last night myself, my Film Yap co-conspirator Joe Shearer and several others served as judges for the 48 Hour Film Project contest here in Indianapolis. It was a fun but exhausting night, watching a few dozen short films in a row, and then rendering a verdict. We didn't get out until almost midnight.
For those who don't know about the 48 Hour Film Project, it's a national contest where local filmmakers are loaned equipment and given two days to make a movie, with a certain amount of the criteria set. The winner goes on to the national contest, with some big bucks at stake.
We selected "Gno Man Is An Island" as our overall winner. It's about a guy trying to find out who's sabotaging his garden gnomes. We sent in our ballots this morning for the individual category winners like best directing, editing, acting, etc. Those should be announced later today.
We rated the films on a scale of 1 to 10. I won't divulge exact numbers, other than to say "Gno Man" was the clear winner, distancing its runner-up -- "I'm Not Talking to You" -- by a number of points. There were several also-rans that followed right up behind, however.
The judges were fairly much in agreement on some movies, and all over the map on others. One film that got a "1" from me and a "2" from a couple other judges got an "8" from another. Always interesting to see how opinions will vary.
The filmmakers drew lots to see what genre they would receive -- drama, comedy, horror, holiday, family, etc. Not surprisingly, several of the films deviated wildly from their assignment. Perhaps the best example was "Bunny," the entry from The Super Aggro Crag, which clearly wanted to do a horror film, and did so despite pulling the "holiday" category. Never have I seen the Easter Bunny associated with so much death. Another film labeled a comedy was not even remotely funny, although kind of interesting in a deranged way. And one of those who did pull the "horror" card decided to do a surrealist hobo fantasy instead. It was like Salvador Dali meets Ingmar Bergman meets Jim Jarmusch.
Each film also had to include three randomly selected elements: a character who's a professor with the name Shirley or Sherman Kane, a ball, and the line of dialogue "I'm not talking to you." Interestingly, many of the films decided to use the professor Kane character as a psychologist, so we had quite a few scenes of people on couches. There was also a mathematics professor, some English profs, and a guy who studies deer. No one decided to make their professor character a mad scientist.
Well, none of the films in competition, anyway. There was one with a guy who invents a time-travel machine, but it was one of the "late" films. Apparently, some people miss the 48 hour deadline and are shown at the screening, but are not eligible for judged prizes. They are eligible for the Audience Award, and one late film, "Magic 8 Ball," won that for the first group of films. ("Coming Soon" won in the other group.)
The judges discussed the late films, even though we were not scoring them, and we agreed that "Magic 8 Ball" would have had a good shot of winning the top prize if they'd submitted in time.
Beyond the set categories and three things they must include, I noticed a lot of similar themes occurring in several of the films. Clowns were a clear favorite, appearing in at least a half-dozen films. There also seemed to be a lot of people carrying around really big bottles of liquor -- I always thought people stuck to smaller bottles when they're getting drunk, but one guy must have had a gallon jug of Johnny Walker.
Altogether I was rather impressed with the level of talent and originality displayed for our local filmmakers. There was only one movie I thought was truly bad; most were pretty decent, a bunch of good ones, and two or three outstanding.
Yes, I know "Contact" came out in 1997, and a movie a mere dozen years old could not possibly be categorized as a classic. But the name of the column is "Reeling Backward," and I'm the one writing it, so I get to decide how far backward we reel. In this case, not so much. Still, I think enough time has passed to offer a little perspective on this film.
"Contact" was considered a major disappointment at the time, but I really like the movie. It's based on the Carl Sagan novel about mankind's first contact with alien intelligence. Jodie Foster plays a willful scientist who first detects the signal, and is eventually selected to be the one transported halfway across the universe to meet them.
"Contact" has become a touchstone in pop culture references -- and not in a good way. There's a segment of "Family Guy" where Stewie has a lengthy exchange with Matthew McConaughey, where he insults McConaughey's acting skills in general and his role in "Contact" in particular. He alleges that McConaughey's character has no purpose for being in the film. In his best surfer-Texas-dudespeak, McConaughey agrees, and says the producers just wanted a good-looking guy to balance out Jodie Foster and all the science-y stuff.
Much ridicule has also been made of a major plot point in the film where the huge machine that has been built at the direction of the alien message is blown up by religious extremists, and it's revealed that a second identical machine has been secretly built. I admit it does seem a little deux ex machina, but don't blame director Robert Zemeckis and his screenwriters -- it's right there in Carl Sagan's book. In fact, in the book a total of three machines are built. The American one gets destroyed, the Russian one is plagued by construction problems, and the Japanese one is built at the behest of S.R. Hadden (John Hurt), a renegade billionaire who likes to thumb his nose at the powers that be.
I recently re-read Sagan's novel, and I have to say that as imaginative as I think it is, the TV astronomer was a better scientist than he was a storyteller. The book is dense with technical jargon, and often seems more interested in the hows and wherefores of inter-galactic communication and transportation than the implications of it, and certainly the visceral impact.
This is a rare case where the movie is better than the book.
Foster's character, Ellie Arroway, is much feistier and more confrontational than her literary counterpart. Again, this makes sense -- a movie protagonist can't be passive. Audiences want to see the heroine stand up for herself.
There's also much more made of Arroway's personal ambitions in the film version. There's a great scene where she is attending the presidential news conference announcing the reception of the message from another planet, and she is shunted aside for David Drumlin, a bureaucratic nemesis who had in fact been trying to shut down Arroway's project on the search for extra-terrestrial intelligence (SETI). For the movie, it makes sense -- conflict is the primary source of drama in most movies. Watch almost any serious film, and some heads are going to be butted.
The movie diverges from the book in ways small and large. The McConaughey character, Palmer Joss, is a religious figure whose print role is quite different. He's heard but not seen to a much greater degree -- and he certainly isn't a romantic partner for Arroway. There's some hint of a connection, but it's more intellectual/philosophical than sexual. She has another boyfriend in the form of the presidential science advisor, which peters out as the machine project nears culmination.
One of the biggest changes is that Arroway is the only person selected to enter the Machine, as it's known, for whatever purpose the aliens have intended for it. But in the book, there are five travelers, representing a geographically and ethnically diverse stratum of humanity. I can see why Zemeckis and his writers went this way -- you'd have to essentially introduce four more important characters right as the movie was entering its third act, which violates some kind of Hollywood dictum or something.
It would also weaken the film's resolution, in which Arroway is held up as a hoaxer. She travels for 18 hours through a series of wormholes, and communicates with a leader of the alien consortium who has taken on the form of her long-dead father. But she's returned at the exact moment she left, so to the observers on the ground nothing happened. There's a nefarious politician, played by James Woods, who leads the inquisition against Arroway, portraying her as an unwitting dupe of the trickster Hadden. Now, it's easy to convince the world that one person had a hallucination, but nearly impossible to make it stick when five people have the same experience.
The one major problem I have with the film, and the book, is the truncated meeting with the aliens. In both cases, the father figure (played by David Morse in the movie) keeps pressing Arroway for time, saying she has to return soon. Basically, she shows up on this alien world, after the nations of earth have spent trillions of dollars building the machine(s), and the essence of their communication is: "Hey. Nice to meetcha. Gotta go now." When Arroway presses him why she can't stay and ask more questions, the answer is that "This is how it's always been done." That's a frustrating non-answer, whether you're reading a book or watching a movie.
But despite its public reception, I feel "Contact" remains one of the best cinematic representations of human interaction with extra-terrestrial life. After all, in a space as vast as our universe, contact is more likely to happen through electronic messages than a flying saucer touching down, a hatch popping open and some green men emerging. The "War of the Worlds" version may sell more tickets, but "Contact" aims a little higher.
