Tampilkan postingan dengan label Polanski. Tampilkan semua postingan
Tampilkan postingan dengan label Polanski. Tampilkan semua postingan

Jumat, 12 Agustus 2011

We Need to Talk About the Posters

While I was away at MIFF - and even after it whilst I was recovering and catching up on MIFF blog entries - some wonderful posters popped up online and I'd be remiss in not mentioning them, wouldn't you agree?



Lynn Ramsay's forthcoming Cannes entry We Need to Talk About Kevin recently had a dodgy stripe poster that did nothing to allude to the film's supposed fluid, silky storytelling. This newer design, however, is stunning and appears to encapsulate so much about the film and also push what we think we know of the project into unforeseen directions.





I mean, is We Need to Talk About Kevin at all comparable to Roman Polanski's Rosemary's Baby? Because the faded green and black colour scheme sure do seem to be inviting the comparison. My favourite part is the imagery of star Tilda Swinton slinking out of the shadows. For whatever reason, it actually reminded me of the poster for Jacques Tourneur's 1943 classic "Jane Eyre" retelling I Walked with a Zombie, which is a whole 'nother surprising direction for my brain to head down.



Next we have a French poster for Roman Polanski's Carnage (formally "God of Carnage", which was the title of the play it is adapted from). On one hand I love it's glorious, if oddball, Warholian colour scheme and its theme of changing facial expressions by the cast. However...





... those colours are quite confronting considering the plot of the film. I'm almost always for the wild use of colour on film posters because I think, far too often, many posters for dramas suspect dark, muted tones better represent their film with little thought of what those dark, muted tones represent to the filmgoer (ie; depressing). This is a lot of colour! Granted, Carnage is apparently even more of a comedy than drama, but these colours even Almodovar would find excessive. I like that they went a bit ballsy and went with something different and I will most certainly prefer this to whatever car wreck of a design they come up for the American design so for now I'm curiously intrigued.



The most concerning part, however, is how Jodie Foster and Kate Winslet appear to be hysteric by their third frame and yet Christoph Waltz and, especially, John C Reilly's faces are almost unchanged. Is that a sign of the movie? That the women will be loud, hysterical banshees (not necessarily a bad thing) and the men will be more stoic and, well, typically macho? Ugh. I hope not.



And speaking of colour palates, how about Weekend. This independent gay feature could perhaps be condoned for its stereotypical use of the colour pink, but from all reports Weekend isn't just another "look how funny gay people are! gay people will go see this movie because they'll see anything that's about gay people! woo!" flick and so I can appreciate the rarely used pinks and purples far more than I otherwise might for a "gay movie".





I think there's a wonderful feel to this poster of foggy, yet promisingly sun-kissed romance. And this is a much better way of utilising the "big empty space" design concept. By allowing the white space to act as imagery for an uncertain, perhaps brighter, future is rather lovely and sending the over-exposed Polaroid concept throughout the entire poster works a treat. This poster is gorgeous.



Very similar is this poster for Sundance hit Like Crazy. Even if I hadn't have known it was a "Sundance hit" I would have suspected it from the poster alone.





It has many of the same virtues as the Weekend poster, although obviously with a much more sellable message. The large typeface of the tagline is in line with current trends, but comes off as somewhat on the nose. Nevertheless, the beautiful colours and a great choice of imagery to sell the film on make this poster a winner. At least the actors were in the same location and not just Photoshopped together!



Lastly, I want to look at some of the many posters for Nicolas Winding Refn's Drive. We have a UK quad and several international designs.







I find it curious that the most interesting and daring design for Drive is, in fact, the first American one. Aping off of the poster for 1980 sex and thrills blend American Gigolo, the American poster with its sexy up-shot of star Ryan Gosling with his trademark (in the film) toothpick, greasy and tight-fitting white top and destinctive, loud and large hyper pink cursive font is quite delicious. Having seen the film I can definitely see how and why it has been marketed this way - it's certainly the best representation of the film of all the poster so far released - although I can also see how this poster could be a, ahem pun, speed bump on its way to financial success.



Still, I think something as striking and forceful in its message as the American poster design works far better than the lazy international posters that trade off of a gritty slickness that really isn't in the film. The film is slick, most definitely, but the darkness that seethes through it is not what makes the movie so powerful and it is, really, much less an integral part of the film than the stylised, yet somewhat deliberately dated, coolness of the initial US design. I obviously see why it's being marketed this way with those steely blues and menacing imagery, but for me it's all about the crisp white and pink.



How about you?

Senin, 23 Mei 2011

Rubbing the Wrong Way

Quentin Dupieux's telekinetic car tyre movie Rubber was one title I was very eager to see after last year's MIFF. Unfortunately I missed it due to bad scheduling (on behalf of the festival and myself), but having just watched it thanks to Madmen's DVD release I can comfortably say I didn't miss a thing. In fact, after 40 minutes of watching it I went to Twitter and labelled it "unwatchable" before going to bed.

Returning to it today and it was pretty much just as bad as it was last night. It holds no water at all, in one ear out the other, and amounts to noting more than an overly extended Tropfest winner. It probably would have made a very entertaining Tropfest winner, too, but as a feature film it's 80 minutes of blah.


"In the Steven Spielberg movie E.T. why is the alien brown? No reason.
In Love Story why do the two characters fall madly in love with each other? No reason.
In Oliver Stone's JFK why is the President suddenly assassinated by some stranger? No reason.
In The Excellent Chain Saw Massacre [sic] by Tobe Hooper why don't we ever see the characters go to the bathroom? Or wash their hands like people do in real life? Absolutely no reason.
Worse, in The Pianist by Polanski how come this guy has to hide and live like a bum when he plays the piano so well? Once again the answer is no reason.
...
All great films contain some element of no reason."

With this introduction, writer/director Quentin Dupieux waves his magic wand and gives himself carte blanch to do whatever the hell he wants with no rhyme or reason whatsoever. 'It's the point, stupid!' This dialogue sounds like it was written by a 13-year-old who was eager to prove he knew a lot about movies by citing some famous movies and their directors (except, quite tellingly, Arthur Hiller who I guess doesn't have the same arty cache as Roman Polanski or Oliver Stone). Instead, he just comes off looking silly and more than a little childish. It's not like mainstream audiences are going to be watching Rubber anyway, so why not take inspiration from that other directing Quentin and cite some more esoteric titles?

This scene, a prologue of sorts, sets up the film in the wrong manner from the get go, anyway. Without it I may have been able to accept Rubber as just some sort of bizarre, prosaic stoner film, but by deliberately trying to give it a point of not having a point makes the whole thing a rather useless viewing experience. Dupieux is just making a movie with no point, and what's the point of that? There are movies that have free-flowing forms with little to no plot at all that still feel like more vital, energetic and importantly necessary, like they were born out of the directors need to tell that story, than Rubber. There's no need to think "what is he trying to do here?" because he admitted right up front that his movie is about nothing. And not in a humourous "it's a show about nothing" kind of way that is actually about something. It's just... there. A car tyre awakens by itself for some reason, it does some stuff and then the movie ends. Nothing to think about or enjoy here; It's just slow, repetitious and dull


It doesn't even have a deranged edge to it, with Dupieux - acting as cinematographer and editor - choosing to film it in a very chilly, straight-forward manner. It's easy to follow and boring when it should be messy and kinetically insane. It does have great visual effects, make-up and a wonderful pulsating music score by "Mr Oizo" and Gaspard Augé, but they can't save the film from being anything other than a director trying to cynically make a "hip" movie to get himself on the scene - something made all the more obvious by Dupieux's decision to film in English and set it in America, despite being a French filmmaker using French money - without having anything to actually say or anything interesting to show. D-