My Magic
I never thought I would describe a movie where someone puts a spike through his tongue as family friendly, but it seems right, so I'm just going to go with that...
Eric Khoo's My Magic tells the story of Francis, a depressed, grossly alcoholic single dad struggling to take care of his son. Francis works at a club, and occasionally impresses the bartender with magic tricks to coax free drinks out of him. The higher-ups catch wind, and soon concoct a plan to exploit Francis by showcasing him in a freak show at the club. Determined to provide his son with a chance for a brighter future, Francis allows the stakes of his freak show performance to get higher and higher.
Ive never seen anything else by Eric Khoo, so I'll just call it like I see it. By all indications, Khoo is a master juggler of conflicting emotions. This is a kid's movie with very adult themes. Khoo's balance of humour and pathos is just incredible, and is especially apparent in his portrayal of Francis. Khoo paints the alcoholic father as raw, vulnerable, and painfully pathetic, but nevertheless revels in taking light-hearted pokes at him. So in watching it, I am simultaneously struck with both empathetic shame, and a chuckle at his expense. It's... not quite a "Ha Ha" kind of funny, more like a sad, swallowed smile, but these small comedic touches pervade the film, and make much of the latter half bearable, as Francis is exploited to increasingly degrading levels.
I also don't know anything about the state of Singapore's racial harmony/disharmony, so I won't theorize on that, although Khoo does seem to be saying a lot there, especially given the film's ending. A minor point of interest for me (I think in light of the fact that I am living in a foreign country and often find myself oscillating between two, sometimes three different languages every day) is that the film shows not only how diverse Singapore is, but that all those diverse cultures bleed into an odd socks cesspool of language mixing. Most of the film was in Tamil, but Francis regularly interacts with others in Cantonese and Taiwanese (and maybe Hindi??), all with spots of English in between.
It's hard to label My Magic. It's either an incredibly harsh kid's film or a film meant to scar the soft at heart. All I know is that I wasn't its intended audience (I am neither young nor soft), and so yes, at times it was too cheesy,too melodramatic and the stiffness of the acting did get to me. But I kind of feel really forgiving about all that. I still enjoyed the film... although I sort of suspect it's because I'm reading some race/class disparity theme in there that may not actually exist...
Whatever the case, it's fair to say that this is not a film that exactly leaves you skipping gleefully out of the theatre, but still, it does it's best to soften the cold-hearted blow. Khoo's cynical message "The world is a cruel place, you will learn that one day," is wrapped in bubble gum kid gloves, almost as if we are being introduced to the cruelty of life through the innocent eyes of Francis' son. And because of that, there was a hint of magic that lingered as the credit rolled. Not quite as sweetly bittersweet as the ending of Harold and Maude, but still pretty comendable. It's certainly peaked my interest in Eric Khoo.
Timecrimes
The problem wth time travel films is that the movie ends near the beginning, so it tends to be a tedious road back and forth through the same territory as the movie progresses. And unless you put an ingenious twist to it, or unless you pray for a dumb audience, well... it runs the risk of coming off a little redundent.
I was first introduced to Nacho Vigalondo while I was working in short film. His 7:35 in the Morning, a black and white suicide bomber musical, was ironic, cheeky and thoroughly awesome. After watching his second short, Choque, I started to get a feel for Nacho's humour, and it agreed with me, very much so. I went to see Timecrimes purely because it was Nacho's first feature length film and I was super curious and excited to see how he'd manage.
The storyline is one of those that works best the less you know... mainly because there isn't much to know. It's a simple premise with some complicated cracks in between. Erm, so fair warning- mini spoilers ahead...
Hector has just moved into a new house and decides to relax in the yard with his binoculars. Only instead of the birds and the bees, Hector spots a naked woman in the nearby forrest. Upon wandering into the bush to check up on her, Hector is attacked by a mysterious, menacing bandaged man. Hector is chased into the arms of a budding young scientist (played by Nacho himself) who, unbeknownst to Hector, has been fiddling with a time travel machine. Throw Hector into said machine, shake, stir in some hubristic folly and add a twist of naive intention and you've pretty much figured out the rest of the story.
So personally, I guessed how the story would play out somewhat early in the film, and while I still found it entertaining, it definitely started to peter out for me in the last half hour. It's kind of a "fool me once" situation, where what was novel the first time around gets to be a little dry on the second go. Retracing the same scenes from different perspectives can be interesting... but it's much more effective in small doses, methinks.
Nacho, however, should get mad credit for doing so much with so little. It's a cast of four, and there are only a few locations. Like Primer, another sci-fi indie flick, Nacho compensates with a smart story. This is a budget film that doesn't feel budget at all, even despite the b-movie theme.
The script is tight... unfortunately, I found it a little too tight. Uncomfortably tight. The fun of sci-fi movies for me is the unknown; being able to let my imagination run wild with endless possibilities and "what if"s. There is no room for that in Timecrimes, every little detail is explained. I felt like my imagination was locked and sealed into Nacho's AHA! box, and I found that kind of stifling.
Having said that, Hector- a balding, befuddled everyman- makes a great anti-hero, and Nacho's comedic touches are impeccable. I have incredible respect for this guy on all sides of the camera and I think he is immensely talented. All in all, it was really good for a first feature... I just wish I had more to latch onto and make my own.
24 City
Will somebody please oh please fire Jiang Zhangke's musical arranger?!
Fictional narratives that incorporate documentary elements can work. Gary Burn's Radiant City, and Haskell Wexler's Medium Cool come to mind, but I'm sure there are countless others I'm forgetting. Documentaries that incorporate fiction? Hmmm... not if you're supposed to take them seriously. Ok, there was "dramatization" in A Thin Blue Line, but I'd argue that that was more of a necessary evil than a plus; the story is what made that movie. And Marlie Matlin pretty much ruined What the $@#* Do We Know? for me...
I bring this up because 24 City is one such animal. Jiang weaves documentary interviews with scripted scenes; has real interviewees sit alongside actors pretending to be interview subjects.
Obviously, the risk of doing this is that your audience may be able to discern the real interviews from the scripted ones- a rather jarring effect. Credit to the actors, but the difference was obvious to me. There is a HUGE difference between a personal story that someone haltingly and hesitatingly tells a camera, and one that has been fictionally crafted; the latter is always guilty of being too cute, too flowery... to arty.
Beyond this bare flaw, Jiang's narrative arch for the film seems confused, or at least it confused me. I simply don't get what he's on about... is it supposed to be a nostalgic love letter to Chengdu? A statement against the tediousness of factory work? A cry for the loss of work pride in the face of China's development frenzy? Jiang's interviews all take turns supporting and refuting each of these themes, and the result is a whole lot of staged talk with scant moments of genuine pathos that all fail to tie together.
Jiang's style also rubs me the wrong way. His method of having various interviewees, family members and anonymous strangers stare at the camera for a minute of silence seems like a poor Digibetaman's version of Koyaanisqatsi. What's more, they're not even close ups, so it isn't particularly uncomfortable for the viewer, if that's what he was going for. Most jarring of all is Jiang's choice of music, which I can only assume he arranges himself because it is consistently bad in his films.
Jiang, word to the wise- cantopop love songs and electronic mandopop DO NOT fit your scenes of factory workers, nostlagic shots of Chengdu and sob stories about coal mine workers. WTF??
Jiang is sort of a Cannes darling, and has earned some serious arthouse cred. Well, I've seen two of his films, and I don't see what all the fuss is about, so I think I'm done with this guy.
*PS- I knew I was a film geek, but I really didn't know I was this much a film geek.
I... apologize.
I never thought I would describe a movie where someone puts a spike through his tongue as family friendly, but it seems right, so I'm just going to go with that...
Eric Khoo's My Magic tells the story of Francis, a depressed, grossly alcoholic single dad struggling to take care of his son. Francis works at a club, and occasionally impresses the bartender with magic tricks to coax free drinks out of him. The higher-ups catch wind, and soon concoct a plan to exploit Francis by showcasing him in a freak show at the club. Determined to provide his son with a chance for a brighter future, Francis allows the stakes of his freak show performance to get higher and higher.
Ive never seen anything else by Eric Khoo, so I'll just call it like I see it. By all indications, Khoo is a master juggler of conflicting emotions. This is a kid's movie with very adult themes. Khoo's balance of humour and pathos is just incredible, and is especially apparent in his portrayal of Francis. Khoo paints the alcoholic father as raw, vulnerable, and painfully pathetic, but nevertheless revels in taking light-hearted pokes at him. So in watching it, I am simultaneously struck with both empathetic shame, and a chuckle at his expense. It's... not quite a "Ha Ha" kind of funny, more like a sad, swallowed smile, but these small comedic touches pervade the film, and make much of the latter half bearable, as Francis is exploited to increasingly degrading levels.
I also don't know anything about the state of Singapore's racial harmony/disharmony, so I won't theorize on that, although Khoo does seem to be saying a lot there, especially given the film's ending. A minor point of interest for me (I think in light of the fact that I am living in a foreign country and often find myself oscillating between two, sometimes three different languages every day) is that the film shows not only how diverse Singapore is, but that all those diverse cultures bleed into an odd socks cesspool of language mixing. Most of the film was in Tamil, but Francis regularly interacts with others in Cantonese and Taiwanese (and maybe Hindi??), all with spots of English in between.
It's hard to label My Magic. It's either an incredibly harsh kid's film or a film meant to scar the soft at heart. All I know is that I wasn't its intended audience (I am neither young nor soft), and so yes, at times it was too cheesy,too melodramatic and the stiffness of the acting did get to me. But I kind of feel really forgiving about all that. I still enjoyed the film... although I sort of suspect it's because I'm reading some race/class disparity theme in there that may not actually exist...
Whatever the case, it's fair to say that this is not a film that exactly leaves you skipping gleefully out of the theatre, but still, it does it's best to soften the cold-hearted blow. Khoo's cynical message "The world is a cruel place, you will learn that one day," is wrapped in bubble gum kid gloves, almost as if we are being introduced to the cruelty of life through the innocent eyes of Francis' son. And because of that, there was a hint of magic that lingered as the credit rolled. Not quite as sweetly bittersweet as the ending of Harold and Maude, but still pretty comendable. It's certainly peaked my interest in Eric Khoo.
Timecrimes
The problem wth time travel films is that the movie ends near the beginning, so it tends to be a tedious road back and forth through the same territory as the movie progresses. And unless you put an ingenious twist to it, or unless you pray for a dumb audience, well... it runs the risk of coming off a little redundent.
I was first introduced to Nacho Vigalondo while I was working in short film. His 7:35 in the Morning, a black and white suicide bomber musical, was ironic, cheeky and thoroughly awesome. After watching his second short, Choque, I started to get a feel for Nacho's humour, and it agreed with me, very much so. I went to see Timecrimes purely because it was Nacho's first feature length film and I was super curious and excited to see how he'd manage.
The storyline is one of those that works best the less you know... mainly because there isn't much to know. It's a simple premise with some complicated cracks in between. Erm, so fair warning- mini spoilers ahead...
Hector has just moved into a new house and decides to relax in the yard with his binoculars. Only instead of the birds and the bees, Hector spots a naked woman in the nearby forrest. Upon wandering into the bush to check up on her, Hector is attacked by a mysterious, menacing bandaged man. Hector is chased into the arms of a budding young scientist (played by Nacho himself) who, unbeknownst to Hector, has been fiddling with a time travel machine. Throw Hector into said machine, shake, stir in some hubristic folly and add a twist of naive intention and you've pretty much figured out the rest of the story.
So personally, I guessed how the story would play out somewhat early in the film, and while I still found it entertaining, it definitely started to peter out for me in the last half hour. It's kind of a "fool me once" situation, where what was novel the first time around gets to be a little dry on the second go. Retracing the same scenes from different perspectives can be interesting... but it's much more effective in small doses, methinks.
Nacho, however, should get mad credit for doing so much with so little. It's a cast of four, and there are only a few locations. Like Primer, another sci-fi indie flick, Nacho compensates with a smart story. This is a budget film that doesn't feel budget at all, even despite the b-movie theme.
The script is tight... unfortunately, I found it a little too tight. Uncomfortably tight. The fun of sci-fi movies for me is the unknown; being able to let my imagination run wild with endless possibilities and "what if"s. There is no room for that in Timecrimes, every little detail is explained. I felt like my imagination was locked and sealed into Nacho's AHA! box, and I found that kind of stifling.
Having said that, Hector- a balding, befuddled everyman- makes a great anti-hero, and Nacho's comedic touches are impeccable. I have incredible respect for this guy on all sides of the camera and I think he is immensely talented. All in all, it was really good for a first feature... I just wish I had more to latch onto and make my own.
24 City
Will somebody please oh please fire Jiang Zhangke's musical arranger?!
Fictional narratives that incorporate documentary elements can work. Gary Burn's Radiant City, and Haskell Wexler's Medium Cool come to mind, but I'm sure there are countless others I'm forgetting. Documentaries that incorporate fiction? Hmmm... not if you're supposed to take them seriously. Ok, there was "dramatization" in A Thin Blue Line, but I'd argue that that was more of a necessary evil than a plus; the story is what made that movie. And Marlie Matlin pretty much ruined What the $@#* Do We Know? for me...
I bring this up because 24 City is one such animal. Jiang weaves documentary interviews with scripted scenes; has real interviewees sit alongside actors pretending to be interview subjects.
Obviously, the risk of doing this is that your audience may be able to discern the real interviews from the scripted ones- a rather jarring effect. Credit to the actors, but the difference was obvious to me. There is a HUGE difference between a personal story that someone haltingly and hesitatingly tells a camera, and one that has been fictionally crafted; the latter is always guilty of being too cute, too flowery... to arty.
Beyond this bare flaw, Jiang's narrative arch for the film seems confused, or at least it confused me. I simply don't get what he's on about... is it supposed to be a nostalgic love letter to Chengdu? A statement against the tediousness of factory work? A cry for the loss of work pride in the face of China's development frenzy? Jiang's interviews all take turns supporting and refuting each of these themes, and the result is a whole lot of staged talk with scant moments of genuine pathos that all fail to tie together.
Jiang's style also rubs me the wrong way. His method of having various interviewees, family members and anonymous strangers stare at the camera for a minute of silence seems like a poor Digibetaman's version of Koyaanisqatsi. What's more, they're not even close ups, so it isn't particularly uncomfortable for the viewer, if that's what he was going for. Most jarring of all is Jiang's choice of music, which I can only assume he arranges himself because it is consistently bad in his films.
Jiang, word to the wise- cantopop love songs and electronic mandopop DO NOT fit your scenes of factory workers, nostlagic shots of Chengdu and sob stories about coal mine workers. WTF??
Jiang is sort of a Cannes darling, and has earned some serious arthouse cred. Well, I've seen two of his films, and I don't see what all the fuss is about, so I think I'm done with this guy.
*PS- I knew I was a film geek, but I really didn't know I was this much a film geek.
I... apologize.
