Top 10 #2: Top 10 Actors That I Can't Remember The Name Of, But Then When I See Their Faces I Go "Oh Yeah, I Know Them"

I knew this list would be tricky. How do I list the actors whose names I can't remember, when by definition I can't remember their names? Luckily I must be some kind of genius, because I've done it. Take that, logical paradox!

I had some strict conditions for this list: they had to be actors whose identities I honestly didn't know, but whose faces I definitely knew. I also wanted to avoid the big-time character actors whom I know well enough to almost remember the names of, like the great J. T. Walsh or Jeffrey Jones. So! The latest of my Top 10 Top 10 Lists That Don't Really Deserve To Be Top 10 Lists:

It's

The Top 10 Actors That I Can't Remember The Name Of, But Then When I See Their Faces I Go "Oh Yeah, I Know Them"!*

10. Harris Yulin

I almost never watch TV crime shows, but this guy has been a judge a bunch of times, hasn't he? Or maybe I'm just thinking of Ghostbusters II. (Loved that movie.)

9. Juliet Stevenson

Oh man, how the hell do I know her? She's so familiar, but I have no idea.

8. Donal Logue

Oh yeah, it's that slightly-chubby-supporting-actor guy. Man, he's been in a ton of things.

7. Mickey Jones

Yeah, that guy! The guy who won't shave his big scraggly beard, so he always gets cast as "old biker" and "guy with beard"! That's a niche and a half.

Also, he was the drummer on Bob Dylan's 1966 world tour after Levon Helm quit. (True!)

6. Cara Seymour

It's really hard to find a distinctively recognisable image of her face, but I know who she is when I see her – and according to IMDb, she's had supporting roles in a ton of films that I've liked. Red Riding, Hotel Rwanda, Birth, Adaptation, American Psycho, Dancer In The Dark ...

With great credits like that, you'd think I would remember her name by now, huh?

5. Clancy Brown

Yeah, this guy! He was in Carnivale, and he had a small part on Lost, and he was in Starship Troopers? And some other things? And also he looks a bit like that other guy, the one who played that alien guy on The X-Files.

4. Jane Adams

You remember, she was in that creepy-but-very-good Happiness film? I can almost remember her name, but not quite. And she always seems to be in things with that other guy.

3. Marshall Bell

You remember this guy? He's been in a whole bunch of things: gym teacher in Nightmare On Elm Street II, deformed freak in Total Recall. Bunch of tv shows, too. Ring any bells?

2. Hope Davis

I am absolutely on the verge of remembering her name in the future. She's charismatic as hell. (Also: what did you think of Synecdoche, New York?)

1. Joey Slotnick

Oh, man. This guy. This poor guy. I feel like I've seen this guy playing a geeky "Loser Guy" in movies and on tv forever. I feel like I should be feeling sorry for him, and I don't even know who he is, let alone why. (Though, maybe I'm getting him slightly confused with somebody else who looks a bit like him?)

Man. How odd.

*PS: I know it would be better to say "actors that I can't remember the names of" rather than "name of", but for humour's sake that entire sentence is a clumsy and inelegant construction in the first place, so get off my back, grammar pedants! Settle down! :)

--the Editorial Thoapsl

Top 10 #9: Top 10 High Concepts Improvised In Less Than One Minute

Yeah: as I figured it might, turkey did not permit me to publish very much this week. (Also I've been visiting folks up in the country, not that that's any excuse – they do have the internets up there, too . . .)

But anyhow, with that introductory ado adone – here's the latest of my Top 10 Top 10 Lists That Don't Really Deserve To Be Top 10 Lists!

It's

The Top 10 High Concepts Improvised In Less Than One Minute!

10. Soup On A Plane

9. The Zombies Eat Jim Carrey

8. Cop Who Plays By The Rules

7. These Dinosaurs Are Driving Me Crazy!

6. Limousine To Hell

5. Six Guns, One Bullet

4. Party In Hitler's Brain!

3. No More Puppies!

2. The Killer Is Calling From Inside Your Hat

1. Lasers On Ice

One day, I will write a movie script that will get made.

I'm pretty sure a few of the ones on this list have already been done, though. And #5 actually sounds pretty cool, don't you think? (Ah, who am I kidding, they all sound awesome wicked cool . . .)

Now, I look forward to seeing at least one person claim in the comments that I don't really understand what "high concept" means. Don't let me down, people :)

More Top 10 Top 10, coming soon!

Love, Thoapsl

Things learned during the Melbourne International Film Festival

1. Spending about 1000% more time than usual watching movies really shakes things up, let me tell you. I ran out of food, I grew out my hair, I changed my brand of anti-perspirant. Heck of a fortnight all over.

2. If you see a film which has an awesome twist in it, but the only reason the twist works is because you aren't even slightly expecting it, you're in a pickle: how can you convince people to go see this film without hinting at the twist's existence? If you describe the film's premise and people just say "aw, that doesn't sound that interesting, can you lend me five bucks?" – how do you convince them that the story isn't as dull and obvious as it sounds, without making them think that there might be something unusual and twisty about it? Ah, it's a pickle...

Moral: if I say a film is great but I can't convincingly explain why, you should go see it anyhow.

3. Subtitles (in English) for actors speaking in thick accents (in English): insulting to the (English-speaking) audience, an overreaction, or just incredibly distracting? Okay, okay, in the end I guess it wasn't as distracting as it might have been, and I'm sure those audience members unfamiliar with the Yorkshire patois were appreciative, but holy cats! Subtitles Were Annoying.

Films were pretty fine, though.

4. Australian Horror Films. I've been seeing a lot of them lately, I should really do a whole post on the topic. But instead I'll just shut up and tell you this: you should see Lake Mungo. The only modern Australian horror film that might rival it for quality would be Wolf Creek, but that's a really inappropriate comparison – the two films could hardly be more different. Lake Mungo is a ghost story (which is rare), and it's a horror that goes for deep chills rather than shock-jolt scares (which is even rarer). I saw it in a dead silent, almost-deserted cinema: the perfect viewing environment for non-jokey horror. It's excellent.

Lake Mungo did not play in the 2009 Melbourne International Film Festival. It has had only a limited cinematic release in Australia, and that within this last month or so, but it was picked up for an American remake nine months ago. Somebody needs a bigger marketing budget, okay.

5. Latauro is surprisingly recognisable. The guy is everywhere.

6. Is Korean cinema in some kind of a golden age for creepy, off-kilter films this past decade, or what? Park Chan-Wook has been doing absolutely brilliant stuff for a while, but I was really doubtful that anyone could do anything worthwhile or new with vampires, anymore. I was totally wrong. I also thought that while The Host was a great monster film, it was probably a one-off; I didn't imagine that it had been made by any especially brilliant filmmakers. Again, I was wrong.

Anyhow, the films "Thirst" and "Mother": I recommend them.

7. Nazi Zombies. Exactly what you were expecting, but in a very satisfying way.

That's a lot of points related to horror films, isn't it? I did see a bunch of artsy intellectual movies, too. In other words:

Blue Beard

Oh, Catherine Breillat, you crazy kidder! Good one.

The White Ribbon

So, hey, Michael Haneke, are you extremely clever? In all seriousness, I honestly can't tell. I think so? Probably? I think so. But I'm going to have to think about it some more. And this is not a bad thing. I think.

(I'm not being sarcastic, here, btw...)

And that's not everything I saw, but it's enough to be bothered writing about, I think.

--the Cinematic Thoapsl

This Is A Poster For A Horror Movie

Joss Whedon apparently wrote half of this.

(Is that a good thing, or a bad thing?)

Great marketing, huh? I found a couple more of them over here.

Watch Pun Watch

WATCHMEN

You know what I thought this was like, adaptation-wise? American Psycho. An "unfilmable" text, adapted in a way that amplified the ironic and parodic elements of the original at the expense of its more serious aspects. And an excellent film as a result.

 

Vast numbers of people are already reviewing this movie to death, but I haven't yet seen anyone point out that Watchmen is funny. And that's on purpose: it's supposed to be funny. It's serious too, but there's a thread of irony that's essential to the fabric of the whole. All very dark, very deep, but: by stretching and inverting superhero tropes the way it does, Watchmen (book & film both) is essentially a kind of parody.

(This is even more true for the film than for the original novel. There's a deeper suspension of disbelief when you're reading words and absorbing pictures; the absurdities are suppressed. But when it's live-action, a movie about costumed crimefighters can't help but highlight the strange and the ridiculous. And that's before you even get to the more obvious jokes – moulded nipples on the costume body armour, Rorschach's "Dark Knight" voice...)

Do you believe me? Just because a work explores some deep and serious ideas doesn't mean it isn't funny at the same time. I think a lot of people are uncomfortable with acknowledging that, but it's true. When done well, that's part of what makes a good work so great: the humour can lend verisimilitude, and bring entertainment value too.

I love the original graphic novel, but I haven't read it for several years. (That was on purpose: I didn't want the differences between book and film to be too obvious to me, to be too annoying.) I went in with fairly low expectations. Based on the reviews I'd read, I was expecting that the movie wouldn't gel somehow; that it would duplicate the graphic novel's look but not its mood, that it would tell the events but not the story. The characters wouldn't seem right. It would be unsatisfying. That's what I was expecting.

Are you interested in my opinion?

Watchmen entertained the hell out of me. I thought it worked as a dark parody of superheroes (and of superhero movies), it worked as a compelling and unorthodox film narrative, it even worked as an action-romance with philosophical scaffolding. And I thought the fight scenes were awesome – seriously, some of the best movie fight scenes I've seen. (And that's coming from someone who usually hates any use of slow-motion, and who was only half-heartedly a fan of the action sequences in 300.) The music was great, too. (It's the musical choices that go a long way towards establishing a good subtone of parody throughout, too; I'm talking to you, Leonard Cohen's synth-heavy 1980s version of Hallelujah.)

I feel like I really need to talk about Watchmen with someone who watches a lot of movies, but hasn't read the graphic novel. Even better, someone who isn't especially familiar with comicbooks and superheroes generally. What on earth does this film seem like, to someone like that? There's so much bizarre excess in this movie, it's such an unusual brew of wild ideas... how does that play, to someone who has never read a superhero comic?

One thing in particular I thought interesting: by adapting the original text so faithfully, the first third (or so) of the film ends up with a narrative structure that's extremely unusual for a blockbuster. The way the story shifts from character to character and back and forth in time, exploring backstory and shifting perspectives (and all the while advancing the plot) – it's done in a way that's quite unusual, I think. There have been a lot of "ensemble"-type movies in the recent past, so many now that it's almost a subgenre of its own – I'm thinking about films like Magnolia, maybe I Heart Huckabees or Syriana or Crash, maybe even Pulp Fiction. All very different in tone, but I hope you know what I mean when I say they're similar in structure: multiple characters, interweaving storylines that build to a connected climax. You know what I mean. Watchmen has multiple characters and interweaving storylines that build to a connected climax, too.

But Watchmen is different to those films. It explores the characters' backstory and "origins" in ways that other ensemble films don't, I think. Following the pattern of the original text, the stories of the different characters are actually told differently, using narrative forms that reflect who they are. The segments with Dreiberg and Jupiter have a different feel to Rorschach's origin-told-via-psych-evaluation, which is different again to Manhattan's origin-told-via-simultaneous-time. Ensemble films often have different characters and different stories, but I think it's unusual to see different narrators used in this way. It works really well, too. It's a credit to the creators that it's never distracting, confusing or clunky – Watchmen is always a single film, not several different films cut together. (Or not to me, anyhow; again, I really need to talk to someone who knows the film but not the book! This is what I get for going to see it on opening night, when nobody else has seen it yet...)

There is a lot to this film, substance and style both. From sly easter eggs like "Good luck, Mister Gorsky" and the use of Apple's 1984 ad, to more subtle jokes (like the ironic/obvious musical selections), this is a film absolutely crammed with interesting details. The cast are great; in a couple of cases, they're excellent. If I wanted to nitpick, I'd say the very final scene was just slightly off – something about the pacing, maybe? – but even in the original book, that was a scene that never quite worked for me. Some people have said that the film doesn't evoke the Cold War feeling of imminent nuclear holocaust clearly enough; for myself, I thought that it was evoked well enough. But I might be more familiar with that sort of Cold War mindset than some people, I've been thinking about it a bit lately..?

I want to see it again. It's a great story, well told and thoroughly entertaining. It's funny!

In summary: see this film. If only so that I can talk to you about it.

--the Cinematic Thoapsl

It's Not The Plants

THE HAPPENING

So, I saw The Happening the other day – it had gotten such weird and conflicting reviews that I figured I had to see it for myself. Hey, The Village got terrible reviews, and I liked it anyway; unlike (apparently) most other people who saw the film and were pissed off because the "twist" was crap, I didn't mind because I thought the twist was obvious on purpose, it wasn't supposed to be a shocking twist. The twist wasn't the point of the film, it was just... never mind, I'm getting distracted and I don't really care anymore. Anyhow, The Happening was flawed in a lot of ways, but I thought that some aspects of it were really quite neat. I was thinking of writing something about it, but then I found the general thrust of my thoughts were already expressed wonderfully in here*:

"you've got to admire Shyamalan's amazing ability to whip out a perfectly-constructed horror/scifi plot without actually ever having any kind of monster or coherent threat. We get all the classic "scary monster" moments in this movie — people staring at stuff with horrified looks on their faces, distant screams, long tension-mounting shots in creepy houses — and yet at the moment when we expect to look into the face of The Big Bad there's literally nothing. No Cloverfield with its throbbing, toothy face, no disfigured bad guy with a bag of poison. Just beautiful fields of trees and grasses moving gently in the breeze.

There's a kind of true brilliance to The Happening at these moments. It's as if Shyamalan, a smart guy if nothing else, is trying to show us that at the heart of every monster movie there really lurks nothing at all. Just an empty field that you can fill with whatever terrifies you most."

That's the part of the film that I enjoyed the most; if you've got the time & money to spend on two hours of Shyamalan, the film is possibly worth it just for this aspect. It's wonderful, if you're willing to look for your cinematic satisfaction in some intriguing metafiction. Rather than in the fiction itself.

(Yes, I'm using the word "metafiction". Sometimes it just can't be helped).

--the Cinematic Thoapsl

*ps: the rest of the post containing the above quote is basically all about the film's (alleged) covert promotion of "Intelligent Design". I wasn't reminded about ID in particular when I was watching the film, but I was struck by the rather unscientific rhetoric of the science-teacher protagonist (Marky Mark) in his introductory scene, quote: "acts of nature we'll never understand". Interesting perspective, hmm, coming from a science teacher? Insert joke here about the failures of the US public education system.

On the other hand, of course all kinds of bullshit masquerades as "science" in movies. I usually hope it's either creative license for the sake of an easier story, or else that it's only the usual ignorance (ie: unfortunate, but not essentially malignant). It's certainly bad stuff. However, wilful misrepresentation by anti-scientific ideologues is a lot worse. Scary and sad.

What's wrong with Juno?

JUNO

So I saw Juno a while ago, sure, and I enjoyed it. It was well done, it made me laugh; and it had some very good acting, I thought... the character arcs for Jason Bateman and Jennifer Garner were especially clever and not overstated. Ellen Page's Juno was lovable as hell.

However: while a lot of other people absolutely adored the film, *woo awesome unreservedly*, – I just didn't. I couldn't get behind it without something nagging at me, something I couldn't quite put my finger on. Folks, I am not wholehearted in my appreciation of Diablo Cody's cinematic accomplishments. But it's taken me a little while to figure out why this is so. I mean hey, I liked the film, already! Why couldn't I just praise it without feeling off?

Well, I think I've figured it out. So, okay, hear me out: the character of Juno is, at heart, a very clever and canny girl. She's funny and she's smart, the whole way through the film. Secondly: her decision to have sex is her own, it's (implied to be, more or less) a premeditated act, and she isn't drunk or otherwise distracted at the time. So: why does an otherwise intelligent young woman decide to have sex without using any fucking protection? Seriously, what's up? I just don't get it. Surely she knows that she's likely to get pregnant by doing this, so what the hell is she thinking? Juno isn't drunk, she isn't having sex against her will, the event isn't especially spur-of-the-moment – what on earth is her excuse? I am genuinely mystified, here. Don't all teenagers live more or less in mortal terror of pregnancy? I know the concept worried me a hell of a lot, when I was 16. (Heck, I'm 26 now and I'm still not unconcerned).

Is this an American thing, perhaps? Is sex education genuinely so lax there, are condoms genuinely so difficult to obtain (if you're a teenager)? I'm boggling. That an otherwise intelligent girl would be as reckless as Juno seems to be – it may or may not be realistic (and it's a movie, anyway, 'realistic' is not necessarily the point or the aim), but either way this aspect of the premise jarred my suspension of disbelief no end. I could never get totally absorbed into the film without it nagging at the back of my mind. I still can't.

Maybe I'm being unreasonable, or there's something obvious that I'm overlooking. Maybe I'm just thinking about it too much. Maybe I should track down Diablo Cody and ask her...

nifty name, 'diablo'. can't deny that.

--the Cinematic Thoapsl

There Was Some Blood

THERE WILL BE BLOOD

 

So, can you believe that the same guy who directed Boogie Nights and Magnolia went on to make Punch-Drunk Love? And then, after making what was essentially a romantic comedy – a film that it'd be hard not to label 'quirky' or 'sweet' – he leapt off into this? I thought that was a little strange, but then I remembered that he'd also made Hard Eight, and with that in mind the progression seemed to make a little more sense. Hard Eight and There Will Be Blood both revolve so much around the quiet (or not so quiet) character details, and so many clever observations of human behaviour. But while Hard Eight feels relatively 'soft' – melancholic, maybe even sardonic – on the other hand, crickets! There Will Be Blood is a block of wood which crushes your skull.

 

It's one of those films where half the audience are pissed off because the other half keep laughing inappropriately. Laughing, a little shocked (& a little nervous, maybe) only to to fall silent whenever events keep going beyond a jolt. As they generally do, here: this is not a film which holds back from violence or tragedy. It felt gloriously brutal and terrifyingly sad, to me, but the fact that it really, genuinely felt like something is what's stuck with me. (Am I just looking to films for a vicarious fix of emotion or sensation, then? Aw... man, ain't that what all cultural creativity is for, more or less?)

 

The main character (Daniel Day-Lewis awesome blah blah oscar blah) made a superb and sympathetic protagonist, despite being something of a misanthrope and borderline sociopath. (On the other hand, I'm the kind of person who thinks Patrick Bateman is ultimately sympathetic, depending on how he's read... & the line between empathy and sympathy is always tricky, sure). The opening sequence, for one thing: Daniel Day-Lewis as the lone miner making his life in dirt and rock. I thought as a piece of filmic storytelling it was excellent, but what was really great was the subtle way it set up the background of the character's psychology. Those few minutes of the man digging in a hole, alone and almost entirely wordless, not only sketched a character outline but also offered and interesting argument to his later actions. The later parts of the film wouldn't work nearly so well without the echo of this opening sequence.

 

Audiences laughing inappropriately. Normally that kind of thing infuriates me to the point of distraction, but tonight it was just noise to me. Am I expecting that sort of thing now, getting used to it? Or was There Will Be Blood so engrossing that I was just genuinely, uh, engrossed? Dirt, oil, violence, lies... I think I also like that it was set in the early 20th century. I guess it's the time period that would be Edwardian, except it's in America (so, would that be McKinleyan-to-Teddy-Rooseveltian? Or William Howard Taftian, in this precise case?). It's not an historical period that you see much of, but I think it's an interesting one. Particularly in America, where it's such a strange transitional period between the Old West Frontier kind of feel and the post-WW1 Industrial Powerhouse Ragtime Nation (not to mention the subsequent Prohibition, Dust Bowl 1930s etc etc). Come to think of it, the only other films I can recall set around that era are also films I've really loved – Days of Heaven, Duck You Sucker. And Heaven's Gate, though I guess that was really 1890s, half a generation earlier. And, ooh! Return To Oz!

 

Anyhow... what about the ending? I found it hard to get a clear apprehension of it – I guess by this stage the inappropriate laughter actually was distracting. Did that final confrontation cross a line, did it edge away from the harsh realism governing the rest of the film in favour of something more... operatic, maybe? I'd like to see it again. Either way, I think There Will Be Blood is a hell of a film. And it managed to criticise a religious movement without caving in at some point, or otherwise apologetically qualifying its critique... and that's a rare thing from an American film, these days. Kudos etc.

 

Oh, and also: that scene when Daniel Day-Lewis and his brother have been swimming in the ocean, but the brother sits exhausted in the shadows, head bowed. The lighting and the body language, the whole thing was just brilliant. And I haven't even mentioned the soundtrack, which is what really made everything work – Jonny Greenwood knows what he's doing, for sure.

 

So yeah, I liked it a lot.

 

-the Cinematic Thoapsl