Film Student
I think I've stumbled on a good way to divide my time, equally, between the paradoxical extreme of the
film student. Yesterday was movie day. I started my triple feature with
Rivers and Tides, a recent documentary about the ruggedly handsome Scottish environmental artist, Andy Goldsworthy. One of my fellow art historians did her thesis on Goldsworthy and we shared many interesting conversations about the moment, just between the late sixties and early seventies, when artists rejected the institution and looked for ways and new kinds of art to get outside and subvert it. Goldsworthy literally went into nature and his the scope of his work has not drastically changed in later decades. Granted Goldsworthy is much more soulful and organic than Morris, but her research piqued my interest in this film. It is probably one of the most beautiful films I have ever seen. In parts, it expresses the absolute poetic ends of the cinemantic medium. The filmmaker, Thomas Riedelsheimer (German), does Goldworthy's work a greater service than the artist does himself. Goldsworthy makes this ephemeral natural sculptures out of leaves, sticks, and small piles of stones. He then arranges these found materials into primordial shapes like ovoid eggs and an undulating curve that echoes (as this film suggests) the kinks in a river near his Scottish home. The curving line looks vaguely serpentine. Since he works primarily in the remote out-of-doors and his works last only a few minutes, the film does a remarkable job of expressing the temporality and dissolution of the work. There are incredibly lyrical visual passages where the film traces bold red iron ore along the rocks in the river, swirling tide patterns, and suddenly visible paths of wind illuminated by dusty snow and different colored natural ores. Goldsworthy provides the only "voice" in the film, often muttering on with long-winded and rambling soliloquies about his work, the power of the earth, and other heavy-handed new age art manifestoes. I think his narration bogs the film down with an unnecessary slowness and several of his passages could have been seamlessly deleted. Apart from the narration / explanation / proselytizing, the film perfectly captures the effect of time on Goldsworthy's work and thus completes the missing third dimension that completes the cycles and processes of his work and the major element missing from his personally documented still photographs.
Later in the evening, I went to a double feature of 1960s Hong Kong swordplay films from the Shaw Brothers' Studio (the on-going series at UW's Cinematheque). The first was a soft-core pornographic teaser called
Confessions of a Chinese Courtesan. Lots of girl-on-girl action and bloody fights where a repeatedly raped courtesan gets her final revenge on many of her aging and indulgent patrons. It moved quickly, was stylistically naughty, and was entertaining. The second film was much more of a "boy movie" (even though the first film clearly satisfied any heterosexual male viewer in house)
Blood Brothers, a film that retold the circumstances surrounding the murder of a royal guard during the Ching Dynasty. Swordplay, infidelity, but set at a much slower pace. This film was longer and perhaps my own internal clock left me less patient, but although it had its moments, it was my least favorite. This director also over-uses the zoom lens. Every scene shifts between characters by rapid, extreme, zooms. The technology is rudimentary compared to today's standards so the zoom often loses focus at some point and it is a nauseating effect that grows tired quickly. The costumes and the script were not especially impressive, compared to the relatively slight number of HK films I have seen.
Today is more for the student part of my split psyche. It is a cold sunny day and I am happy to be holed up at my kitchen table with a fresh pot of coffee and my narrative theory reading. I'd like to make some real strides today in
Everyday Narrative, a book by Ochs and Capps that I am reading for my theory class. The book is definitely more communication science than film theory, but it was an approved title. I rarely had papers done early in college, but I'd love to finish this one and let it breathe before handing it in. I haven't written a real paper in quite a while (even this fall the papers were slim) and it might be nice to do a real draft revision (instead of last-minute proofreading).
I also recently learned about a film festival in Berlin (in February) and an opportunity for young film journalists and critics to document the works of new filmmakers with the aid of two credited mentors including past editors of
Variety. I don't exactly have the publishing arsenal behind me to round out my application, but I am thinking about sending a letter of interest along with some other writing samples. Perhaps in a fit of writing genius, I might write out a letter today. It definitely fits my pattern - about every eight months, some great opportunity / mentor comes along that greatly enhances my interest and introduction to film. That sounds very arrogant, but I would surely welcome a free trip to Berlin and an opportunity to see what being a film journalist is all about.
posted by lmjasinski at 10:55 AM
