An excellent film, who can find?

I have all sorts of categories that I put the films I watch into.  The spectrum is wide and multli-layered.  I have many levels of “goodness” or lack there of for where I place the films I watch.  I have different wave-lengths of nit-pickiness or critical-ness that I use or sometimes choose not to use depending on the film in question.

Some films are decent.  They suffice.  I can watch them, and perhaps enjoy them on a certain level, or glean some small nugget of meaning, but they don’t stay with me, they don’t resonate with me; they don’t last, and are rather forgettable after a while.

Then there are those that are “pretty good” “good” or “really good” with really good being the top level of goodness.  Beyond on that there are some films that I just love, adore for whatever reason.  But sometimes even those “I’m in love with” films are not quite enough.  They are so close to being “perfect”  and I love them so much, I can re-watch them over and over again, and never tire of them; I glean new things in each watching, and sometimes even if there is something to criticize (major or minor), I chose to ignore it because these films have touched me so deeply.

But I think, there is still even a higher level that exists.  This level makes even the “I’m in love with” films almost not quite sufficient.

It’s a level of absolute, perfect, ideal excellence.  Hardly any films ever make it this far.  To a point, where there is absolutely not a single flaw in them.  They are “perfect” on every level.  They are films that nail every part of what I believe a film should be into exquisite perfection.  Not a single element of these films goes astray.

I have seen tons of films in my lifetime.  I have seen so many in the last several months (compliments of being a library shelver who loves film way too much) that I can’t even remember half of them.  Many of them were good.  Some of them were really good.  A few, I did fall in love with.

But tonight, I saw a film that is  one of the best film I’ve seen in a really long time, if not ever.

It is an excellent film.  A rare film that goes beyond anything you could or want to expect.   There is nothing wrong with it.  Not a single flaw. Not a single complaint to be had.  Not a single let down.  At the end I felt total and complete satisfaction on every level.  

This is what a film should be. 

A film like Taken.  

As a cynical American film-watcher, having my sometimes buried, high artistic ideal completely satisified, is precious.

Taken Trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CvUxdQ4q-Lg

Stories keep us from forgetting….

It’s been a long time since I’ve written anything about films I’ve watched.  I’ve watched several in the past year that have moved me.  But I’ve been a bit lazy. Sometimes my mind is still trying to wrap itself around something so I decide to wait 24 hours, and then forget.  The initial feelings are melded in my psyche and I don’t need to write about them anymore.  (Or….I’m just too lazy to try).

Of course….to write something more seriously about any given film I’d have to re-watch it a second time, with a more critical eye and more intense study on the make of it.

But I was thinking tonight, that every time I watch a film for the first time, I should, however falteringly it may be, attempt to capture what my initial, subjective, emotional, personal response to it is.  Whatever the legitimacy of film criticism, I don’t want to ever lose my own subjective emotion that responds to the stories I watch.  Of course the more freedom I allow myself in the first viewing does depend on the film in question….because some films require more expectation from me than others.   It will also depend on the context of where, when, and whom I watch it with. 

The point is I watched United 93 the other night, and however subjectively, or objectively my viewing was, it’s a film that begs to be written about.

I cried….like the film crier that I am.  I knew I would.  Perhaps the worst thing about this story is I already knew how it was going to end. 

And I remembered…….it’s been how many years? But I remembered how I lived through this day in history that changed the world, changed my world.  I wanted to remember.  I remembered everything…..seeing the glimpses of the towers again.  Remembering where I was. What I was doing.  Exactly what spot I was in when I first hear/saw the news.

The film itself was not necessarily grand or spectacular.  It would be easy for a Hollywood film to make the whole event glamorous.  But it wasn’t.  It was simple.  Straightforward.  There was no commentary.   I cried over the young men who hijacked the plan as much as I cried over the heroes who charged the cockpit door and killed three of them.   

Then, there was the whole absurdity of the massiveness of our communication centers.  Being a straightforward film, it gives you a glimpse into the all the mess of communication that happened that day.  Traffic control, air centers, the military, etc…etc….all trying to figure out what’s going on.  Not having a clue.  The panic that ensued when the planes blipped off the radar and disappeared completely.  The chain reaction of one single plane not responding to calls. The system sort of collapses.    Nobody knows what’s happening. 

I never realized how significant it was that ALL air traffic stopped that day.  EVERY plane was forced to land, and the skies above our usually busy land, were quiet, silent, and still.

The film ends abruptly.  The last thing you see is the green of the Pennsylvanian field through the window of the cockpit, as the plane plunges towards it, the mass of voices ringing in your ears, the heroes trying to gain control of the plane, and the one lone voice of the young Muslim pilot, crying out to Allah in that split second between life and eternity.  

That’s it. It goes black. Just stops.

There is no closure. A few paragraphs regarding the heroes and the day itself are given. Facts, as if you were reading a history book.

But the abruptness is persuasively strong.   You sit there shell-shocked, even already knowing it was going to end this way, you can’t help but feel that gaping hole of sorrow.   It opens wide and all the images of that day flood back to you like it only happened 24 hours ago.  

9/11 is there buried in the back of my mind as a day never forgotten, but not always considered.  Having watched this film, it is stronger, and more human.  It is not simply masses of people dying, but 40 stories on plane (plus 4 other mysterious ones of Middle-eastern descent that will forever remain a mystery cursed by the walls of race, religion, language, culture, worldview, an ocean, and a couple deserts between us.)

After all, this is what we remember the most.  Stories. Stories of heroes……9/11 was a day made out of stories. 

And it is the stories that keep us from forgetting.

In that case, we’d better keep on telling them. 

Return to the Blogging World

Dear Blog World,

Well…..I’m back.

*opens door*