Sin #44: Kubrick: Master and Commander

A man raises his eyebrow and stares directly into the camera. He is sitting down in the Korova Milk Bar next to his chums while he gives a monologue about rape and a little bit of the ultra-violence.

A little boy drives his tricycle through the open halls of an ominous hotel as he encounters twin sisters; suddenly an overwhelming wave of blood comes pouring in. At the same time, his father starts seeing ghosts.

Dr. Strangelove begins explaining the dire consequences of a nuclear strike by the Russians who are ready to deploy their weapons after an insane American military commander has disrupted protocol and initiated an invasion.

An intelligent machine named HAL is responsible for taking a couple of astronauts on a secret mission to uncover a distress signal. HAL begins to boycott the mission and one of the astronauts decides to shut him down. As he drifts off he begins to sing: daisy, daisy…give me you answer do…

All these classic scenes come from the same imagination; the imagination of Stanley Kubrick, a filmmaker who brought us some of the most powerful images on the screen. He began his career as a photographer and turned to feature films after his fascination with the mechanics of film technique. To his co-workers he was a perfectionist who oversaw every aspect of the production and endlessly repeated takes until he found the perfect moment (which drove many of his actors insane, especially Shelley Duvall on the set of “The Shining”) but he usually delivered works of art that became part of popular culture. With each movie Kubrick began to consolidate himself as one of cinema’s great masters and one of the essential film auteurs.

Every time he released a movie, it became an event; that is until he passed away on March 1999, days before the premier of his last movie “Eyes Wide Shut”. In the documentary “Stanley Kubrick: A Life in Pictures” he is remembered by family and friends as a cold, detached and obsessive artist but also as a loving and caring husband and father. The impact of his films was undeniable (some to the point of controversy, like with “A Clockwork Orange” which was held responsible for a wave of crimes that emulated the characters in the film).

Today, his movies are seen as classics; works that pushed the boundaries of each genre and colonized a new place in the subconscious of audiences. As an artist, few directors were as influential as Kubrick and few were as beloved; his brilliance echoes in the works of today’s talents (like Darren Aronosfky or Paul Thomas Anderson) and will, undoubtedly, carry on.

Sin #43: Devil in the Church

Father Olive O’Grady is a devious predator who began his sexual molestation rampage back in the seventies whilst living among naïve catholic families that trusted him. For decades he abused their trust, engaged in sexual activities with young children and moved to different parishes in California, hiding behind the hypocritical veil of the holy church. For them pedophilia remained merely a nuisance and not a sin or even a destructive force among families; it’s almost an ancestral tradition for the clergy, after centuries of enforcing a ridiculous celibacy oath, to take children and “touch” them as they simply put it. Frankly, all this is sickening and disgusting.
“Deliver us from Evil” gives faces to the victims of pedophilia and to its perpetrators making the movie a devastating document against the attitudes of the church and the conspiracy to cover up and even protect members of its organization. These charges go all the way to Pope Benedict XVI who is, even today, receiving criticism for his choices on the matter. Can the church survive this scandal? I hope not, since they need to account for the thousands of molestation cases all around the world.

Watching this documentary I was confronted by a series of conflicting emotions. Hearing O’ Grady’s confessional made me angry and enraged; here’s a man that’s clearly damaged and somewhat detached from his terrible actions and yet he is a monster that enjoys hiding in plain view, whose regrets are clearly insincere and who remains a cold and evil human being. As for the victims, I felt compassion and utter sadness since this man ruined their chances of happiness forever; their stories are the hardest parts to watch.

There’s also another movie related to the subject that’s more ambiguous about the moral implications of abuse. That’s “Doubt” starring Meryl Streep, Phillip Seymour Hoffman and Amy Adams, in which a priest is accused by a nun of molesting a child in her school; of course she doesn’t have definitive proof but she senses something wrong and becomes transfixed in punishing him. People around her think it’s merely a personal vendetta and that the priest has always been exemplary in his behavior but she sees behind his lies.

Of course, the audience can draw their own conclusions about the characters in “Doubt”, but after watching “Deliver us From Evil” they acquire another layer of complexity. One might be a stimulating and intellectually challenging movie but the other is simply heartbreaking and unforgettable. It’s a shame that justice will never be served as these men roam around in their cloaks and betray the faith people bestowed on them.

Sin #42: Pen Pals

There’s something quite special about writing a letter, and when I say letter I mean an actual hand-written piece of paper. Even though we’ve become accustomed to the wonders of computer advancements, I’ve always thought there was something impersonal about e-mails; sure, they are quite easy to send and practical to write but I’ve never been as interested or stimulated by them and I’ve grown frustrated by the amount of spam currently sitting in my inbox. Of course these are troubles of modern times; some decades ago all people had were pens, paper and writing machines (which use can be equally frustrating, at least for me).

For a lonely girl living in the seventies in Australia it must have been hard, considering that her school mates make fun of her and at home her father is distant and mother is a raging alcoholic. It seems that her only friends in the whole world are some ugly figurines of a cartoon show on TV; this is the life of Mary Daisy Dinkle.

On the other side of the globe, in New York City, an obese man with serious psychological problems lies in his couch watching TV and eating chocolate hot dogs. He spends most days as a recluse and suffers from constant nervous breakdowns; this is the life of Max Jerry Horovitz.

One day Mary goes to the post office and rips a page from the archives that feature Max’s address. She decides to write to him and explain her current situation; he writes back and suddenly an unusual friendship starts to develop.

“Mary and Max” is a delightful stop-motion animated film from Australia that may be too mature and sophisticated (and rather sad) for younger audiences. We follow the journey of these two characters and care for them; they are more human that many of the ones that feature in live action dramas.

I don’t know why the Academy failed to nominate “Mary and Max” in the best animated feature category but at least they honored “The Secret of Kells”, a fantastic Irish cartoon that returns to the classic 2D tradition of animation (which is getting rare in the American animated industry).

In a way “The Secret of Kells” is also about writing; this one is more about passing the traditions and ideas of a community. The book of Kells remains one of the most important objects of Celtic folklore and the movie does a great job in taking these tales and make them accessible for all audiences.

Both these movies are superior entertainments that not only amuse but also move us. They are testaments to the power of ideas.

Sin #41: Good Luck!

“The man who said "I'd rather be lucky than good" saw deeply into life. People are afraid to face how great a part of life is dependent on luck. It's scary to think so much is out of one's control. There are moments in a match when the ball hits the top of the net, and for a split second, it can either go forward or fall back. With a little luck, it goes forward, and you win. Or maybe it doesn't, and you lose.”

Chris Wilton

These words open Woody Allen’s great “Match Point”. In it Allen takes us on a story of jealousy and betrayal that ends in tragedy (he gives us a big clue by having Chris read Dostoyevsky’s Crime and Punishment at the beginning of the story).

Reading the opening words again reminded of a Spanish film called “Intacto” that features a group of characters with very good luck indeed. They engage in a diabolical series of tests where they bet all of their possessions and even the fates of other people (there’s a particularly thrilling sequences where the characters are blindfolded and forced to run through the woods).

“Intacto” was directed by Juan Carlos Fresnadillo and represents another fascinating Spanish thriller that’s smart, suspenseful and utterly original (much like “Cronocrimenes”, another wonderful film). It’s fascinating to contemplate characters who gamble with their lives in bizarre situations. If there’s really such a thing as good luck, then it’d be interesting to deal with the consequences of fate and destiny (if indeed there’s a cosmic purpose in each life).

On the other hand, there’s got to be people with very bad luck, people like Bernie Loots, the hero of “The Cooler”. Bernie works in a casino in a very curious role; he goes around the tables looking for people on a winning streak and with a simple touch brings them bad luck (hence the name, cooler). This amazing trait, however, comes with a price; in order to bring bad luck Bernie has to be endlessly depressed. For years this hasn’t been a problem but now he has met a beautiful woman named Natalie; for the first time in his life he is happy and in love.

“The Cooler” isn’t a supernatural drama; its down-to-earth approach to Bernie’s ability is refreshing and the film is sometimes sexy, sometimes funny and always very entertaining.

Do I believe in luck? I think so. Sometimes things happen beyond our reach and understanding. If people could control those uncertain events they’d have a great and mighty power. At least we have the good fortune to experience terrific movies about luck, that’ll do for now.

Sin #40: The Two Sides of Lonely

Some people are really lonely. Take Lars, for example; he’s a socially awkward young man who works in an office and doesn’t have any friends, he lives next to his brother’s house and isolates himself on most of his spare time. He’s so distant that even human touch physically hurts him.

One day something strange happens; he informs his brother and his wife that he’s found a woman he likes and that he’d like to introduce them to her. Of course they’re delighted by the news since it means that maybe Lars can eventually become an active member of the community once again and lead a normal life. The curious thing about her is that she isn’t a woman at all; she’s in fact a sex doll named Bianca and part of a delusional fantasy created by Lars.

“Lars and the Real Girl” isn’t about madness or even loneliness but rather understanding and forgiveness. With its premise it could work as either drama or comedy but the film is wise and tender about its subject and empathizes with Lars. Even though the attitude of Lars’s community isn’t realistic, there’s a naïve sense of joy and at the end it even leaves us with a smile.

On the other hand loneliness can indeed lead to madness. Imagine a stranger arriving on a barren wasteland of a town. He can be kind and somewhat charming but there’s something odd about him lurking beneath the surface; a woman starts falling for him and invites him to live with her and after that very strange things happen that include a crazy paranoid conspiracy theory and the notion of a bug infestation.

“Bug”, directed by William Friedkin (who also made “The Exorcist”) is a diabolical thriller that gradually becomes more and more ominous. It starts with simple characters that eventually delve into madness and never come back. The last scenes of the film are so far the deep end that we admire the acting even more since the actors go to risky places losing all sense of vanity in the process.

The movie resembles the play it was based on since it mostly happens on a single set and uses a lot of dialogue. Michael Shannon and Ashley Judd are simply amazing but this hardly qualifies as a feel-good movie. It may begin as a movie about loneliness but it ends being about disease and utter lunacy.

“Lars and the Real Girl” and “Bug” are completely different movies, both in tone and structure, but both deal with troubled human beings. “Lars” suggests redemption for its hero while “Bug” pretty much implodes at the end. Both films are interesting and risky experiments that don’t settle for conventions.

Sin #39: Religious Ways

It always seemed to me that Catholicism was all about guilt; after all, Christ died for our own sins and the bible is filled with stories about human frailty and weakness. Confession and penitence became means of clemency to a God who happened to change his ways from Old to New Testament, by sanctimoniously punishing or forgiving in accordance to the laws of the prophets who wrote the passages in that holiest of books.

Judaism on the other hand seemed more about taking back. After all, they survived a holocaust that threatened their extermination and some even rose to become the richest men in the world. Their traditions and celebrations always felt a little foreign to me; the Bat Mitzvahs, the Kabala, the appearance of their Rabbis or even their unorthodox ways of mixing Hebrew words. It’s a fascinating doctrine that evolved from centuries of mysticism and wonder.

It’s apparent that the Coen Brothers grew in that world and that they finally made a movie about it with “A Serious Man” which may be their most personal film and the most curious on an amazingly singular series of films. The brothers have always had a strange sense of humor in their movies (“Fargo” was said to be based on a true story which they later said was a playful lie and “O Brother Where are thou?” was said to be based on “The Odyssey”, even though they admitted to never having read the book); here they start with a bizarre and intriguing prologue that may o may not have anything to do with the rest of the movie. In it we learn about a curse that arrives when one is visited by a spirit; can we really trust this story?

The rest of the movie focuses on Larry Gopnik, a physics teacher whose wife is about to leave him for his best friend, a student is trying to blackmail him, and whose brother-in-law recently moved in with him. Even though he suffers a lot of humiliations throughout the movie he remains calm and patient. As a means of therapy he decides to visit a series of Rabbis who don’t offer him much help (one even tells him a baffling dentist story that, again, may not have anything to do with anything).

With “No Country for Old Men” the Coens were criticized with their ambiguous ending (and the unexpected fate of Anton Chigurgh) and once again they leave us baffled with a sudden and unexpected conclusion in “A Serious Man”. It made me smile how the brothers avoid closure and instead leave the audiences to come up with their own thoughts; by doing so they make the movie unforgettable.

Sin #38: Brutal Awakening

There are some scenes that simply stick in the mind like a haunting dream. Gaspar Noe’s “Irreversible” has a few that provoke disgust and fascination on equal measure (it has to be noted that this movie had the most walkouts of any film the year it was released).

“Irreversible” utilizes a backward narrative to tell a rather simple revenge story that ends (or rather begins) with true irony. The film starts with a series of strobing lights blinding us and a manic movement of the camera that finally settles after a while. In its initial sequence a man enters a gay club and viciously attacks a man who he thinks raped his wife. This scene is astonishing in its use of special effects to simulate an uncut shot of stunning brutality. Then there’s the infamous 10 minute rape scene (with a static camera that morbidly observes and becomes a passive bystander) that also uses computer effects to enhance the cruelty of the moment.

As the movie progresses we realize that the deep sadness and hate starts turning gradually into a naïve sense of happiness; the couple enjoys energetic and loving sessions of sexual intimacy (actors Vincent Cassell and Monica Bellucci are married in real life) and when the movie is over we reflect on how good and ordinary people can become victims of violence and turn themselves into monsters of the society that failed to protect them.

It’s been a while since I saw “Irreversible”, but its power stayed with me long after its screening. It is not an easy movie to digest and its cruel imagery and powerful performance make it resonate beyond any conventional drama.

Recently I saw another powerhouse of a movie called “Martyrs” that also starts out as a revenge thriller and later becomes a psychological horror movie of astonishing cruelty and difficult moral implications. It evolves from its themes of child abuse and torture into a demented and operatic play with spiritual undertones.

This movie also uses pretty sophisticated special effects to convey very graphic scenes of mutilation and leaves us pretty shaken up with a conclusion that defies logic and enters the realm of diabolical fanatism.

Both “Martyrs” and “Irreversible” are French movies that go beyond any possible genres; they don’t believe in formulas or “happy endings” and their audiences are so specific that it’s a wonder they even get made (most audiences would find them cruel and repulsive). But they are works that go for the fences and whose images haunt the subconscious.

Sin #37: Eddie

Has anybody seen “Glen or Glenda”? This is director Ed Wood’s cautionary tale about intolerance at a time when cross-dressing and homosexuality were seen as society’s scurrying diseases (it’s sad to think that in 60 years much hasn’t changed). Nobody argues against the morals or overall message of “Glen or Glenda”; most people nowadays focus on its ineptitude. Here’s a film that’s so awful and incompetent that even though it’s only 68 minutes long it feels like it takes a lifetime to be over. I’m sure it was a passion project for Wood (himself a cross-dresser) but why did he decide to make it so inaccessible, bizarre and utterly incomprehensible?

It is said that Ed Wood was the worst director in cinema history but I digress sometimes on the subject…Uwe Boll might be worst than Wood (I’m not really in the mood of watching their entire catalogue of productions to really find out, although watching “The House of the Dead” was pure torture). The point is that even though Wood’s movies are pretty terrible, they were deeply personal and there’s a sense that he tried his very best to deliver. It’s a shame that they don’t acquire the quality of being so bad they’re good (they could at least have been unintentionally funny like the recent cult classic “The Room”, but no, they are all boring as hell).

The best thing associated with Ed Wood is Tim Burton’s film about the director. In another wonderful performance, Johnny Depp plays him as a cheerful and energetic moviemaker that was just too happy to be making movies. He didn’t care about cheesy sets or costumes, bad performances or incoherent narratives; he just thought about giving his audiences an unforgettable spectacle. The most touching aspect was his relationship with Bela Lugosi (brilliantly played by Martin Landau), an actor too washed out and deep in his drug addiction for anyone to ever want to work with him anymore. Bela appears in “Glen or Glenda” as a sort of puppet master or god-like character (“pull the strings!”) that doesn’t really have a reason to appear on the film (the devil also makes an appearance, it must be said).

“Ed Wood” is my favorite movie of Tim Burton because it’s a celebration of Kitsch and it introduces the joy of moviemaking. Ed Wood might have made the worst movies ever but few people had more fun making them; his energy is contagious enough to cheer for him.

Sin #36: A Dry Journey

Three brothers find themselves on a train to India in search of some kind of spiritual answer and a chance to meet their mother after she went to live on a monastery.

Peter, the oldest, is married and expecting a child; even since before their father’s funeral he has always considered himself his father’s favorite son. Francis, the middle son, recently tried to commit suicide and is the most anxious to bring the brothers together. Peter, the youngest, has been traveling a lot and is currently on a strange and undesired relationship; he’s the most eager to get off the train and return to his mellow existence.

“The Darjeeling Limited” starts out with a brief prologue called “Hotel Chavalier” in which we meet Peter and his on-and-off girlfriend (played by Natalie Portman). It’s a lovely short film that actually expands on the emotional impact of the film. As for the movie itself, it’s another one of those Wes Anderson gems that focuses on a family using dry and witty humor. Much like “The Royal Tenenbaums” and even “The Fantastic Mr. Fox” it’s about how a dysfunctional family can find ways to work together y discover that beyond their differences they actually love each other.

One of the things that strike me the most in an Anderson film is its visual palette. He loves warm tones, saturated colors and a stylized use of textures. In “The Darjeeling Limited” he finds a perfect marriage between his style and the Hindi culture, that is itself quite bright and colorful.

The one film that failed to connect was “The Life Aquatic with Steve Sizzou” which was as visually interesting as the rest of his movies but felt more like a hollow exercise in stylized dramatization without any emotional resonance. One watches this movie at arm’s length, waiting for something really interesting to happen (while we are kind of entertained by the nice images). And even though it features good performances from a wonderful cast it remains merely a curiosity.

Wes Anderson is a true talent and remains one of the great filmmakers to emerge from the indie movement. His movies are dry and charming (sometimes even a bit tragic) but at the end they make us unreasonable happy; I think they have to seen more than once to appreciate all the little nuances creeping under the surface. Even in his latest venture, his first family film “The Fantastic Mr Fox”, we can still recognize his trademarks and smile (even though this time we see puppets instead of people).

Sin #35: Nature's Calling

There may be wars and hunger, frailty and death, but while you’re watching a Miyazaki film all is right with the world. Hayao Miyazaki is a true humanitarian, a man who makes movies about people and their connection with nature. In “My Neighbor Totoro” we’re introduced to a family moving into their new home in a Japanese village. Two girls find a giant tree that houses a big and fluffy creature named Totoro who quickly becomes their friend; meanwhile, their mother is sick in the hospital and their father works hard to provide for them as a professor in a university.

The movie has no villains and no formulas; it combines visually dazzling hand-drawn animation with a mature and absorbing narrative. The details of daily life are lovingly captured and add to the fantasy elements that have a spiritual quality of their own. After more than 20 year, “My Neighbor Totoro” remains one of the best and most loved family films of all time (Totoro even makes a cameo on Pixar’s “Toy Story 3”) and a success on video and DVD (there’s no doubt that anime has found its success on the shelves of video stores since they hardly get released in theaters).

Miyazaki most recent adventure, the enchanting “Ponyo”, tells the story of a boy living with his mother on a house on the cliff by the sea. He meets a fish who wants to desperately become a girl so she can be with him. Just like “My Neighbor Totoro”, it’s a film where the realism of the community blends seamlessly with the whimsy and fantastical. When a child tells a grownup a story, they believe them and accept that magic is hidden beneath the mundane and that spirits live among them.

The themes of ecological conservation are essential in Miyazaki’s filmography. In the epic “Princess Mononoke” there’s a serious conflict between men’s industrialization and the ecosystem that has kept all creatures in a state of stability. This movie may be Miyazaki’s most radical since it deals with heavy subjects and features some fairly violent images. But as in all his works, it’s a film about tolerance and understanding. He is one of the few filmmakers who has never failed to provoke and create beautiful human parables. One can approach each one of his movies and discover worlds of happiness and personal growth. It may sound ridiculous but one could say they’re a better person by watching his movies.

Sin #34: The Fan

Paul is a loser. He is reaching 40 and still lives with his mother, works as a booth attendant in the parking lot of a hospital and is obsessed with the New York Giants. At nights he talks to a radio station where he becomes “Paul from Staten Island”, an avid and eloquent commentator that supports his team no matter what.

When there’s a game he goes out to the parking lot of the stadium with his buddy, plugs a TV to his car battery and watches it as he hears the roars of the fans inside.

So, is Paul dangerous or merely a harmless and passionate fan?

Certainly he doesn’t come across as a violent man, not like those crazy hooligans from England that take every chance to beat fans from other teams just to prove their worth as violent offenders.

In “Green Street Hooligans” Elijah Wood’s character goes through a transformation. On America he is a naïve and decent college student recently dismissed after he took the fall for a charge of drug possession from a roommate, who happens to be the son of an important senator. Now he is in London, visiting his sister and her family when he becomes embroiled in the whole Hooligan scene. Unlike Paul, the hooligans aren’t really interested in scoring victories in the field, but more like scoring victories in the street (if violence can be deemed a victory).

“Big Fan” observes Paul without passing any judgment or offering the slightest chance of redemption for him. The movie is fascinating because the character never changes; he sticks fearlessly to his convictions (when a player beats him, he refuses to sue because that will mean that he will get expelled from the team) and even when he could get a chance to find a better job and move out from his mom’s house he refuses with ferocity.

Both movies are about sport fanaticism and unhealthy obsessions that often lead to violent and irrational behaviors. “Green Street Hooligans” is clear about its message of hate and the consequences of devoting your life to a gang; “Big Fan” is more ambiguous on its attitude towards its characters and obsessions. It doesn’t offer easy answers but doesn’t glamorize fanaticism either.

I’ve never been a sports fan (although I did love watching basketball games in the times of the glory of Jordan and the Bulls, now a faded memory) and I’ve always found it a little scary when a crowd gathers to witness a spectacle. These movies try to connect with the impulses that took them to the stadium, and precisely what makes them cheer.

Sin #33: The Architect's Son

Architecture is the reaching out for the truth

Louis Kahn

Khan was one of the great architects. He understood what it meant to give a building momentum and using volumes to create spaces that felt rich, imaginative and even spiritual. His professional life was full of triumphs that included the Salk Institute and the Kimbell Art Museum. His personal life, however, was full of mystery and guilt. At the end of his life he was found lying down on a subway station dead of a heart attack, unable to be located for days since he crossed out his address in his ID. But why would he do that? It appears that the answer isn’t simple. Kahn was married but had 2 daughters and a son from different women and lived a life completely focused on his work, leaving the people who loved him emotionally stranded.

In “My Architect”, Khan’s son goes on a journey to try to understand his father; not only his legacy as an artist but a little of his motivations as a human being. The movie is not a lecture on the technicalities of his buildings since it focuses more on the emotional travelogue, working more as a terrific and significant drama. At the end we contemplate the only thing that Khan left, his body of work and wonder if he had any regrets.

As an architect Frank Gehry is completely different from Louis Kahn. His work is audacious and organic using bold structures that forge a strange and ethereal mood on the viewer. Look at his most famous building, the Guggenheim museum on Bilbao; it completely drains the attention of the city to itself and remains like an alien craft hovering over a city of more conservative traditions. His buildings have the quality of dividing the opinion of the public; some think they merely stand as magnificent follies while others relish its unusual esthetic. In Sydney Pollack’s documentary “Sketches of Frank Gehry” we meet the man and the impact of his work; it is not a profound work that delves too much on psychology (like “My Architect”) but is invaluable as an amazing portfolio of interesting architectural works.

Both these documentaries offer insight into the lives of creative artists. While the Frank Gehry documentary is interesting, it doesn’t achieve the power of “My Architect” where the quest of the filmmaker was higher than delivering mere entertainment, it was a personal odyssey into his own family making the viewer conspirator in the search for Louis.

Sin #32: Baby, Don't Hurt Me

It always begins with a casual encounter.

A friend introduces Annie to Alvy, who finds her attractive and whips a series of intellectual debacles in order to interest her although he is quite unsure of his own charm. Fortunately Annie delights in his sly and witty sense of humor and falls in love with him.

“Annie Hall” was released in 1977 and is the perfect example of the Allen-persona on film; a socially awkward and angst ridden pseudo intellectual from Manhattan who happens to be extremely funny. The movie is full of gags that build a certain kind of momentum although there’s barely any plot at all (it is said that, originally, it featured a murder plot that was completely scrapped in the editing process; that movie was finally made with “Manhattan Murder Mystery” some years later). As a non-traditional love story “Annie Hall” created a revolution that influenced most romantic comedies that followed (from the sweet “When Harry Met Sally” to the lesbian-themed “Kissing Jessica Stein” among many).

Now, picture the scenario some 30 years later in a greeting card company where a young man named Tom meets a girl named Summer. While Alvy sometimes broke the fourth wall with his endlessly inventive monologues, Tom draws from popular culture to describe his relationship and the 500 days he spent dealing with the pains of a love that wasn’t meant to be.

“(500) Days of Summer” could do for our generation what “Annie Hall” did for our parents’. Both cement themselves in a particular time and create three-dimensional character who we feel for. What’s so universal about their appeal is that everyone can relate to them at some point in their lives. When Alvy takes Annie home and begins speaking to her, we see subtitles (representing their thoughts) that undermine every word being spoken. Later, in a love scene, Alvy watches as her spirit leaves her body and realizes she isn’t into sex as much as he is.

Tom, on the other hand, after making love to Summer bursts into a song and dance number featuring a song by Hall and Oats and when his relationship goes sour he begins to see his life as a French New Wave movie (…endless suffering).

It’s these kinds of emotions that connect with the audience, since most people have felt exhilaration and disappointment on equal measure and have used film and music as a way to describe their feelings.

And even though both movies don’t have a traditional happy ending, we pretty much know Tom, Summer, Alvy and Annie are going to be all right. We care too much for them to wish them any harm.

Sin #31: Cabin Fever

You know the drill. A group of teenagers go venturing into the woods and find a creepy and terrifying force against them; it might be a serial killer, a strange disease or even demons from hell. Most of these movies are terribly lame and become mere excuses for showing horrible acts of violence or gratuitous nudity and sex.

There is, however, a movie that is genuinely creepy and startlingly original.

It’s Sam Raimi’s “The Evil Dead”, which might be the mother of the “cabin in the woods” subgenre. In a remarkable debut, Raimi takes a tiny budget and creates sequences that are absurd, scary and simply a lot of fun. Not only did it rejuvenate the horror genre but it also turned Bruce Campbell into a star (Ash is now an iconic hero). The success of the movie spawned an equally inventive sequel which was a little bit less “serious” (using quotations since the first one had a sequence where a woman gets raped by a tree). There was a third installment that also featured Ash but was tonally different from the previous pictures (it was more action adventure with a splash of comedy and less successful as a whole).

So, what’s “The Evil Dead” about?

In the first adventure, some friends go to a cabin in the woods for a vacation. In the abandoned shack they find a weird book that happens to be the Necronomicon or book of the dead. After reading a few passages they summon a series of demons which possesses each one in the group. Only Ash survives (except for an open ending that suggests that Ash might also be possessed).

In the second installment the daughter of the man who owned the cabin goes for a visit and once again the demons are summoned. It appears that Ash might be in trouble since the demons like messing with him (leading to a hilarious sequence where he cuts his hand, and the hand makes fun of him). In the original movie there was no apparent way to end the mayhem, while in the second one it appears that one can vanish the evil to another dimension leading to the events of “Army of Darkness”.

Raimi is a talented and eclectic director that has tackled several genres with various degrees of success (his Spiderman films are hit-and-miss, although his best movie remains the dark and engrossing “A Simple Plan” about a group of men who find a bag full of money after a plane crash). Last year he tried to recreate a little bit of the Evil Dead spirit with “Drag Me to Hell”, which is a goofy and funny horror/comedy.

But no spirit can reclaim the power of the Evil Dead movies; they’re just too much darn fun.

Sin #30: El Melodrama

Manuela lives with his seventeen year-old son Esteban, who wants to become an author and write about his mother’s story to finally reveal his origins since Manuela is adamant about speaking about his father and her past.

One day they go to see a play and wait in the rain to get an autograph from one of the actresses, in a rush Esteban is hit by a car and killed.

Manuela, heartbroken, decides to go back to Barcelona in search of Esteban’s father who now works as a transsexual prostitute. In Barcelona she meets a nun named Rosa that cares for the prostitutes and helps Manuela, thinking she’s one of the girls. They become close and Rosa finally confesses she’s pregnant from Esteban’s father and is HIV positive. Meanwhile Manuela meets the actress of the play and becomes her personal assistant.

The brilliance of “Todo Sobre mi Madre” is that it introduces several characters and fleshes them out as real human beings. Pedro Almodovar’s film is filled with wonderful performances and emotionally potent moments. There may not be a filmmaker alive that loves his women as much as him; he writes characters that burst out of the screen and refuse to leave our imaginations. Manuela, Rosa, Huma and the others are so delicately created and played that one is totally transfixed by their stories. The same can be said about the women of “Volver”, my favorite of his movies (and the best of Penelope Cruz’s performances, although she’s also amazing in this movie).

“Todo Sobre mi Madre” is clearly influenced by Hollywood dramas from the fifties, especially “All about Eve” with Bette Davis. Eve Harrington’s name is mentioned, a character confesses to start smoking thanks to Davis and at the beginning of the movie Manuela and Esteban watch the movie at their home.

I saw “All about Eve” recently and was fascinated at its story of power and obsession. It may be one of the best movies ever made about fame and deceit propelled by amazing performances from the entire cast. “Todo Sobre mi Madre” isn’t in any way a rehash of Eve, it’s merely a lovely tribute as Almodovar plunges into unforgettable melodrama.

It’s impossible to discuss Almodovar without mentioning his visual style that saturates the colors creating a stylized and visually appealing palette. It may not be realistic but it creates its own universe, perfectly complementing the heavy emotions and larger-than-life characters. Every one of his movies is an experience than delves into the human condition.

Sin #29: New Lands

If there is a common theme running deep in the movies by Werner Herzog it’s madness and obsession. He seems to love portraying characters as they venture away on dangerous and inhospitable regions and then rotting away burdened by their own follies.

Take Aguirre, for example. Here’s a Spanish conquistador on a suicidal mission through the Amazon convinced he will find the legendary city of El Dorado and become king of this new land. After Hernan Cortes took Mexico it seems that he might just do the same, ruling with an iron fist. We can almost figure from the start that his journey is doomed, making him a tragic figure.

The journey of filming “Aguirre, the Wrath of God” is almost as exciting as the movie itself. Herzog took his crew and actors to actual locations where disease and starvation were a constant threat. His lead actor Klaus Kinski hated the director so much he wrote heinous and despicable things about him in his autobiography.

The conditions of filming “Aguirre” were so harsh that there was an instance where Kinski announced he was leaving the film; Herzog said he would kill him if he did. This love-hate relationship continued for another three movies and was chronicled in Herzog’s documentary “My Best Fiend”.

It’s the authenticity of the locations that gives the movie a strange and eerie power. When we see the conquistadors fighting to keep the raft floating on water, we sense that we are watching real people struggling to hold on. And in the end, when Aguirre is finally alone we simply gaze as madness consumes him (in a breathtaking shot we see several monkeys getting on the raft and Aguirre trying to shake them off; it’s a powerful metaphor).

A recent movie that reminded me of Aguirre is Terrence Malik’s “The New World” which is a serious adaptation of the Pocahontas’ myth. “The New World” starts as a beautiful meditation on nature and the clash between the European and American traditions as the new settlers try to understand this mysterious new land. While the opening scenes have a spellbinding quality, the movie finally descends to cheap and pointless melodrama as Pocahontas goes to Europe; it’s a shame really that “The New World” becomes so generic, but it’s still worth for its hypnotic and beautiful tone.

These movies give us a feel of what it to discover new lands and realize that some things simply cannot be tamed.

Sin #28: Oscar Season

There’s an underwhelming forecast for this year’s academy awards. First came the news of an expanded ten-nominees for best picture, a pointless and ill-fated decision (surely influenced by last year’s snub of Christopher Nolan’s “The Dark Knight”); my guess is that one of these years it will go back to the usual five.

Then came the movies themselves: “Up in the Air”, “Avatar”, “Inglorious Basterds”, “Precious” and “The Hurt Locker” have figured prominently in most awards but I doubt the greatness of the nominees (except for “Basterds”, which was my favorite movie of 2009; haven’t seen “Precious”). The other contenders are “District 9”, “Up”, “The Blind Side”, “An Education” and “A Serious Man”; since they virtually don’t have a chance, what’s the point in nominating them?

Now, some find interesting the duel between ex-spouses James Cameron and Kathryn Bigelow, whose films are pretty competitive for the best picture award (and direction, certainly). While “The Hurt Locker” is a much better film than Avatar (which is merely a visually interesting ecologically-themed adventure with zero originality), I still didn’t think Bigelow’s film was so great; yes, it is an incredibly tense and focused thriller with amazing direction but still, it left me a bit cold.

In the acting categories there will be no surprises. It will be Jeff Bridges, Sandra Bullock, Mo’Nique and Christoph Waltz. On the technical fronts no doubt “Avatar” will rule. Another certainty is “Up” winning best animated feature (it’s pretty much guaranteed since it received a Best Picture nomination).

I was disappointed at this year’s nominations. Where is “(500) Days of Summer” and its rightful spot at the best screenplay nominations, why was “Bright Star” and its stars Abbie Cornish and Ben Whishaw completely shut out, where is “Ponyo” or “Mary and Max” on the animated nominations or, on the foreign category, why wasn’t “Broken Embraces” or “We, the Living” considered?

Well, every year is the same thing and I guess that Hollywood and its policies justify many cinematic crimes. The academy awards have always been a parade of glamour that doesn’t really mean much beyond its frivolous front. Every once in a while they get it right, but it’s not really important for the viewer (many classic movies, like “Citizen Kane” or “2001”, were completely snubbed at the time). Filmmakers and actors are more interested in them since it looks nice on their resumes and might even get them more work opportunities on the future. But for us, it’s all about the glamour.

Sin #27: Poetic Love

Fanny spends her days sewing wonderful garments, reading poetry by her window sill and taking care of her mother and siblings. One day she meets a young and awkward young man named John Keats who lives with his best friend Charles Brown; both of them are poets. Although Fanny hates Brown’s poems, she loves Keats’ and is intrigued by this shy and quiet man.

“Bright Star” is one of the most powerful romances I’ve seen in a movie. It resonates beyond any traditional genre formula by gently developing two extraordinary personalities. Abbie Cornish and Ben Whishaw give amazingly nuanced performances. Fanny is a strong woman, never afraid of giving her honest opinion (she reminded me a little of Jane Austen’s character Elizabeth Bennet, from “Pride and Prejudice”). Keats is more of a troubled soul, capable of writing beautiful and haunting poems but incapable of revealing his true feelings to Fanny (he confesses to be confused by women); in his mind Keats always considered himself a failure (he barely sold a single book and was poor for most of his life).

If there ever was a film begging to be seen on the big screen, this is it. Director Jane Campion composes each scene like a Victorian painter and lets us drown in the exquisite images. Her best asset is her sense of cinematic rhythm; she never pumps up the volume. By creating a sensuous sense of pace, she develops a poetic tone that matches the beauty of Keats’s words.

“Bright Star” is a marvelous movie that left me heart-broken at its tragic conclusion. It’s so powerful that I immediately went looking for Keats’s poems. Instead of ending this article in a traditional manner I thought of quoting one of his best.

Ode to a Nightingale

I.

MY heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains
My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk,
Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains
One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk:
’Tis not through envy of thy happy lot,
But being too happy in thine happiness,-
That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees,
In some melodious plot
Of beechen green, and shadows numberless,
Singest of summer in full-throated ease.

II.

O, for a draught of vintage! that hath been
Cool’d a long age in the deep-delved earth,
Tasting of Flora and the country green,
Dance, and Provencal song, and sunburnt mirth!
O for a beaker full of the warm South,
Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene,
With beaded bubbles winking at the brim,
And purple-stained mouth;
That I might drink, and leave the world unseen,
And with thee fade away into the forest dim:

III.

Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget
What thou among the leaves hast never known,
The weariness, the fever, and the fret
Here, where men sit and hear each other groan;
Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last gray hairs,
Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies;
Where but to think is to be full of sorrow
And leaden-eyed despairs,
Where Beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes,
Or new Love pine at them beyond to-morrow.

IV.

Away! away! for I will fly to thee,
Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards,
But on the viewless wings of Poesy,
Though the dull brain perplexes and retards:
Already with thee! tender is the night,
And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne,
Cluster’d around by all her starry Fays;
But here there is no light,
Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown
Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways.

V.

I cannot see what flowers are at my feet,
Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs,
But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet
Wherewith the seasonable month endows
The grass, the thicket, and the fruit-tree wild;
White hawthorn, and the pastoral eglantine;
Fast fading violets cover’d up in leaves;
And mid-May’s eldest child,
The coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine,
The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves.

VI.

Darkling I listen; and, for many a time
I have been half in love with easeful Death,
Call’d him soft names in many a mused rhyme,
To take into the air my quiet breath;
Now more than ever seems it rich to die,
To cease upon the midnight with no pain,
While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad
In such an ecstasy!
Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain -
To thy high requiem become a sod.

VII.

Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird!
No hungry generations tread thee down;
The voice I hear this passing night was heard
In ancient days by emperor and clown:
Perhaps the self-same song that found a path
Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home,
She stood in tears amid the alien corn;
The same that oft-times hath
Charm’d magic casements, opening on the foam
Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn.

VIII.

Forlorn! the very word is like a bell
To toil me back from thee to my sole self!
Adieu! the fancy cannot cheat so well
As she is fam’d to do, deceiving elf.
Adieu! adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades
Past the near meadows, over the still stream,
Up the hill-side; and now ’tis buried deep
In the next valley-glades:
Was it a vision, or a waking dream?
Fled is that music: - Do I wake or sleep?