Monday, March 27, 2006

memory & desire

(I must confess that this stream-of-consciousness 'essay', part of the Abel Ferrara blog-a-thon, was composed in a matter of just under a couple of hours, and unfortunately it shows...)

Abel Ferrara entered his most interesting and experimental phase with one of his genuine masterpieces, Snake Eyes (aka Dangerous Game), and this phase continues until 'R Xmas (the newest Ferrara film I've seen, a near-masterpiece), with even the only curious disappointment in this period (The Funeral) bearing his incredibly coherent thematic obsessions. These obsessions are wide and varied, but they can be generally classified as rough, messy studies of confinement and liberty, of the sacred and the profane, and of performance and being (/fantasy and reality). There is also usually an absence, or at most a hazy/compromised presence, of identity, love/emotion, faith/God, sexuality, family, memory, control. This absence attains a near-tangible state in two of the filmmaker's most anti-narrative and much-maligned films, The Blackout (1997), and New Rose Hotel (1998). It is possible to view the two films as one, each an extension of the other, in their respective depictions of obsession, memory, and meta-reality.

The Blackout stars Matthew Modine as popular Hollywood actor, Matty, who goes to Miami to meet up and party with his girlfriend, Annie (Beatrice Dalle), who is currently acting in a hardcore remake of Christian-Jaque's 1955 film, Nana (itself a remake of Jean Renoir's adaptation of the Emile Zola novel), under the direction of Mickey (played by Dennis Hopper with much improvisation, in a performance evoking his appearance in The Last Movie). Annie soon walks out of Matty's life, and he has a blackout on booze and coke, during which he may or may not have strangled a fan of his he hooked up with, hallucinating that she's Annie. New Rose Hotel is, of course, the adaptation of the William Gibson short story, and stars William Dafoe as the film's 'nameless' protagonist (called 'X' in the film), who works under the direction of international corporate headhunter, Fox (played by Christopher Walken with a cane, with much improvisation) to enlist the beautiful and mysterious, Sandii (Asia Argento) in order to seduce brilliant scientist, Hiroshi (played by 'Final Fantasy' artist, Yoshitaka Amano) from one corporate giant to another. Sandii does the job, and then betrays X who has fallen in love with her.

The similarities between the two films basically emerge from the central ghost-narrative of obsessive desire. The shadows of Vertigo and Le Mépris haunt The Blackout, which in turn continues with Snake Eyes' complex imagistic preoccupations (to be crystallised by New Rose Hotel the following year). Major plot occurrences are withheld from the audience (and indeed from the protagonists themselves, who are witnesses to the action in a similar way as we are), and whenever important events are seen, it is through fragmented dialogue, or a recording, commonly video. We don't see Matty strangle 'Annie 2' until he sees a video recording of himself filmed in the act by Mickey (and even then he initially denies the apparent reality of the images). Earlier in the film, when the argument between Annie and Matty erupts (in a hotel room, which returns as a significant, constant setting in New Rose Hotel), we cannot believe her outrageous accusation made by Annie, until a recording of his very words is played, again to his denial. New Rose Hotel is an even more extreme extension of this 'virtual reality': the first sequence of the film, which shows the kidnapping of Hiroshi in fragmented shots, is composed of video images, being witnessed by X. Hiroshi, of course, is himself only seen through the surveillance video recordings. He is almost as much an object of mystery (and beauty) as Sandii, especially for Fox. With New Rose Hotel, his greatest film yet, Ferrara reaches the point when he is questioning the meaning of the images that he has composed and is composing, and acknowledging his position as a creator of images, of 'lies' and illusions.

The image of two or more women in sexual contact has been another one of Ferrara's recurring shots. This is just one of the shifted gender roles that have been present in his films from The Driller Killer (perhaps even earlier - I haven't seen anything prior to The Driller Killer) until 'R Xmas, where a hard-edged female character has to 'save' her soft-spoken husband from his kidnappers. The Blackout has Matty, a character whose internal breakdown may be the very result of a weak, submissive male complex that crystallises into defeated masculinity when Annie walks out on him after his rejection of her abortion. When he asks Mickey, "Are you fucking Annie?", Hopper's responds by "No, I'm fucking you". Later, Matty will seek comfort in the arms of Susan (Claudia Schiffer), but his fate in the film's final scene only supports the dead-endedness of the solipsistic male (/psyche) that Ferrara returns to in New Rose Hotel. Fox is obviously extremely cautious of Sandii ("Don't fall in love with her" he says to X) and disapproves of her openly during the restaurant scene somewhere in the mid-section of the film. His obsession with Hiroshi also seems to border on the homoerotic (and, again, he doesn't approve of his "icy" wife). A key scene is Fox's filming of X during their visit to the Japanese brothel (echoing a similar scene in The Blackout when Hopper takes Matty to the two prostitutes and films), which can be read as an amalgamation of the sexual subcontext in Ferrara's cinema: bisexuality, sadomasochism, prostitution, pornography.

And then there are the dissolves! The use of dissolves in The Blackout and New Rose Hotel is somewhat different from those in earlier films, and in the latter, 'R Xmas. Here they exist not only to build-up towards a whirling state of mind or a dichotomous existence, but also to draw attention to the images themselves by making explicit their transitions, their flux into another, while the dissolves in a film like 'R Xmas exhibit the internal moralistic dilemmas of Drea de Matteo's Wife and Lillo Brancato Jr.'s Husband. The constant state of transition is also contributed to by the shifting locations: Miami - New York - Miami in The Blackout (recalling a similar movement from Snake Eyes' LA - New York - LA, wherein New York stands for 'family' and 'comfort'), and an abstracted presence of several cities in New Rose Hotel: Vienna, Marrakech, Berlin, Tokyo - between which the three main characters are constantly in flight.

The often-present and very cinematic bifurcation of identity in the films of Ferrara - gangster/cop, human/body snatcher, human/vampire, Madonna/Sarah Jennings (i.e. actor/character), bourgeoisie wife/whore (in his music video for Mylene Farmer's California) - reaches a fascinating apotheosis in the character of Sandii, in that slight variations of any of the above could apply to her. Sandii has no last name, no history, no attachments , and becomes increasingly abstract as the film progresses. That curious shot (which enters and exits the frame in dissolves) of Argento's tattoo of an angel across her torso and all the improvisation raises the question of where Sandii ends and Asia Argento begins, a previously-developed motif of the blurring of performance and being (in Snake Eyes) that Ferrara has now summarised in a single shot. Argento was living with Ferrara during the making of the film, and Ferrara himself seems hypnotised by her when he talks of her during interviews. This is really a film about Asia Argento, about the seemingly impenetrable feminine mystique that she represents, and the desperate attempt to disambiguate via the male gaze.

dissolves and reflections

... in Abel Ferrara's 'R Xmas. (Click to enlarge.)

Sunday, March 12, 2006

imaginary beings

Brief, scattered thoughts on Raúl Ruiz's On Top of the Whale: A Film About Survival (1982) :

I'd attempted to see this once before, late at night, but perhaps I found Ruiz's images too... dreamy, and I fell asleep less than 30 minutes into the film. My 'revisit' naturally led me to a film I don't ever recall seeing any part of. In the tradition of the other Ruiz films that I've seen from this period, it is also some kind of a deranged masterpiece, oscillating between the maddeningly mind-boggling and the exhilaratingly freeform. Again, it's not possible to talk about any 'plot' without reducing the film to a series of events/nonevents that would only reflect subjective interpretations of the images and the emphatically spoken text. Just some brief observations, some to be re-examined on the inevitable second 'proper' viewing (possible spoilers follow, I guess):
  • The film approaches magical realism at times, such as the tongue-cutting scene, and at the mention of the suicide of Luis, which hauntingly recalls Eva's earlier narration of something similar (sorry to be so vague - several scenes that revolve around Eva in the second half of the film are impossibly abstracted). Also, the story about his grandfather's house that Narcisso tells his guests on their first night in seems to be entirely supernatural in every sense of the word - and interestingly it's not heard by anyone in the room since they're all only semi-awake! Just more words burnt away in the first of many incomplete communicative processes.
  • This seems, to me, to be Ruiz's most beautifully-shot film (its isolated sepia-toned longeurs of landscape-gazing top anything in Time Regained and Hypothesis of the Stolen Painting). The ever-shifting visual tableau seem to compete with, and be suppressed by, the multiplying language, the spoken text.
  • The use of colour and mirrors again recalls two Orson Welles films: The Lady from Shanghai and The Immortal Story. The latter always seemed to be an important film for Ruiz, its deliberate transforming of myth to reality echoed the reincarnation of the paintings in Hypothesis of the Stolen Painting to tableau vivants.
  • What other film will allow the first-person narrator to give up and escape the narrative by rowing away on a canoe, leaving us to deal with the film's ever-densifying (and linguistically-branching) Patagonian Indians and Eva, the wayward significant other?! And then have him mysteriously return at the end and have his hypotheses rejected by the subjects of his anthropological studies - in a language he can finally understand!
And I wonder where exactly the title is from. I read somewhere it is a Borgesian reference, which is fitting.

Silvana Mangano in 'Riso Amaro' (1949) the object of the lustful attention of two men in the film, and of the camera's frequent eroticization.

Tuesday, March 07, 2006


I know updates haven't been coming lately, but I'd been out of town for a few days (does this excuse still work?!). Anyway, the following is all I saw over the past week. The Doris Wishman film, Let Me Die A Woman, is surprisingly humourless and visually uninteresting. The stylistic eccentricities (i.e. the meandering camera, the playful use of sped-up film/slow-motion effects, etc. that was seen in her two Chesty Morgan vehicles - the only other Wishmans I've seen so far) give way to an unapologetically exploitative pseudo-documentary on the events surrounding various sex-change operations. The wild mix of melodrama, documentary and pseudo-documentary footage (at times seeming to channel Toshio Matsumoto's Funeral Procession of Roses, while mostly directly recalling Glen Or Glenda?), along with the gratuitous insertions of softcore porn and uncut surgical footage of an actual sex-change operation (not to mention, post-op probing examinations, surely one of the most repulsive and unforgettable things ever put on film!) makes for an uneasy viewing. A film of the camera-as-dildo variety, if there ever was one.

(Oh, and don't be fooled by that terrible poster for Michael Almereyda's Trance (aka The Eternal). It's actually an interesting little film, which shares a few more elements with New Rose Hotel than just the disappearing Christopher Walken. More on these films later, perhaps.)

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