Has Paul Greengrass’ “you are there/in your face/smash cuts” style of filmmaking run its course? It worked to great effect on “Bloody Sunday” and “United 93,” two films that placed the audience right in the middle of the action, turning them into witnesses of two tragic events: the violent 1972 clash between British soldiers and unarmed Irish protesters in Derry, Northern Ireland; and the heroic actions of the passengers of United Flight 93 during the terrorist attacks against the United States on September 11, 2001. It’s a style that lent a great visceral effect to Greengrass’ two Bourne movies (“The Bourne Supremacy” and “The Bourne Ultimatum”): we felt every punch, every crash, every breathtaking chase by foot, moped or car.
Tim Burton and Lewis Carroll’s “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland” and “Through a Looking Glass” seemed, at first glance, like a match made in heaven. Well, somebody better call an attorney fast because this marriage has turned sour.
“Brooklyn’s Finest” is being celebrated by some peers as the long-awaited return of Wesley Snipes to the big screen, as if he were some sort of bad-ass messiah. Don’t get me wrong: Wesley Snipes is a damn good actor, the pluses in his career overcoming the minuses. Problem is that there is not enough Snipes in this messed-up, chaotic concoction about three Brooklyn cops who are anything but “fine” officers of the law. And this film could have used with more of the Wesley Snipes tough-guy persona and less of the contrived melodrama this film throws at the audience.
Poor Martin Scorsese. Poor Roman Polanski. Both master filmmakers had the bad fortune to see their latest films –“Shutter Island” and “The Ghost Writer,” respectively- released simultaneously in some markets leading to the inevitable “which is better” debate among critics. Both titles are based on best-selling novels and in both Scorsese and Polanski establish a sense of dread and paranoia. Both films are undoubtedly a case study on how filmmakers can elevate a particular genre by injecting their own quirky personalities: in the case of Scorsese, his encyclopedic knowledge of film history and his own baroque sensibilities; in Polanski’s case, a more classical approach to filmmaking and a dark, sometimes macabre, sense of humor.
There is nothing more exciting than to see artists work out of their comfort zone. And in the movies there is nothing more exciting than to see Martin Scorsese stretch his wings beyond the genres and milieu he is best known for: New York, crime and the Italian-American community. In fact, I would argue that some of his best films are precisely those that do not belong to that holy trinity. I personally think that films like “Kundun,” “The Last Temptation of Christ” and “The Aviator” are as important, if not more so, than his acknowledged canonical work (“Taxi Driver,” “Raging Bull,” “Goodfellas,” etc.). I might end up adding “Shutter Island” to that list once I see it again.
Reviews
Has Paul Greengrass’ “you are there/in your face/smash cuts” style of filmmaking run its course? It worked to great effect on “Bloody Sunday” and “United 93,” two films that placed the audience right in the middle of the action, turning them into witnesses of two tragic events: the violent 1972 clash between British soldiers and unarmed Irish protesters in Derry, Northern Ireland; and the heroic actions of the passengers of United Flight 93 during the terrorist attacks against the United States on September 11, 2001. It’s a style that lent a great visceral effect to Greengrass’ two Bourne movies (“The Bourne Supremacy” and “The Bourne Ultimatum”): we felt every punch, every crash, every breathtaking chase by foot, moped or car.
“Brooklyn’s Finest” is being celebrated by some peers as the long-awaited return of Wesley Snipes to the big screen, as if he were some sort of bad-ass messiah. Don’t get me wrong: Wesley Snipes is a damn good actor, the pluses in his career overcoming the minuses. Problem is that there is not enough Snipes in this messed-up, chaotic concoction about three Brooklyn cops who are anything but “fine” officers of the law. And this film could have used with more of the Wesley Snipes tough-guy persona and less of the contrived melodrama this film throws at the audience.
Poor Martin Scorsese. Poor Roman Polanski. Both master filmmakers had the bad fortune to see their latest films –“Shutter Island” and “The Ghost Writer,” respectively- released simultaneously in some markets leading to the inevitable “which is better” debate among critics. Both titles are based on best-selling novels and in both Scorsese and Polanski establish a sense of dread and paranoia. Both films are undoubtedly a case study on how filmmakers can elevate a particular genre by injecting their own quirky personalities: in the case of Scorsese, his encyclopedic knowledge of film history and his own baroque sensibilities; in Polanski’s case, a more classical approach to filmmaking and a dark, sometimes macabre, sense of humor.
There is nothing more exciting than to see artists work out of their comfort zone. And in the movies there is nothing more exciting than to see Martin Scorsese stretch his wings beyond the genres and milieu he is best known for: New York, crime and the Italian-American community. In fact, I would argue that some of his best films are precisely those that do not belong to that holy trinity. I personally think that films like “Kundun,” “The Last Temptation of Christ” and “The Aviator” are as important, if not more so, than his acknowledged canonical work (“Taxi Driver,” “Raging Bull,” “Goodfellas,” etc.). I might end up adding “Shutter Island” to that list once I see it again.
