Ratatouille

I finally went out and saw Ratatouille. As a food critic, I loved the character monsieur Ego. I can think of a few critics who fit his mold perfectly. And he is right, writing and reading pans are more fun than writing good reviews, although a steady diet of them causes depression, and the risk of losing sight of the joys of food. When I have received the most positive email, it has been for giving places a thorough drubbing.

Now, I disagree with the sort of sentiments that a critic's work is less worthy than the chefs. There are some chefs who will create good food no matter what the world says. And, if they happen to get some good reviews and publicity, they will thrive. But there are many chefs who will get lazy and cheap, and the role of the critic is to keep them on their toes. If a place is charging good money for an entree, then they had better earn it. If they know that their food might be served to a critic, they might think twice about cutting corners, and if they get caught cutting corners, a negative review might be the wakeup call they need.

It is a good film, and I recommend it to anyone who cares about the world of cuisine at all.

Paris Je T'aime

Tonight we saw Paris Je T'aime, which is a collection of about 18 short pieces, each by a different director, set in a different neighborhood of Paris. As one would expect it is a bit hit and miss, but the hits greatly outnumber the misses. It is a long film, and one could not help but think that if a couple of the turkeys were eliminated, it would have made a much better viewing experience, but each piece is so short that even the stinkers go by pretty fast.

I highly recommend this film, particularly if you have a love of Paris.

The Biggest Problem in our Society

I realized that the easiest way to describe the biggest problem facing us is this:

Most people, in fact the vast majority of them, cannot distinguish between "it is", "I think", and "I feel."

Speaking of which, I saw the movie Idiocracy tonight. It has its very crude moments, and there are a couple of problems with it in terms of some basic assumptions, but it is worth watching. One of the interesting things is that it gives a good visual or the notion of cultural capital, although for the population to get as stupid as depicted, the artifacts of a better age would have deteriorated much faster, and would not have been able to be maintained. Also, some of our dumber causes are not thought so by the creators of the film, so they are not shown. If I had made the film, there would be a strong sentimental/sappy side to the culture, and it would have had our current neo-puritanism/overindulgence syndrome magnified by a thousand. Unfortantely for Hollywood types, these things are not seen as stupid in their circles.

In spite of that, it is funny, in the Team America World's Police mode. In other words, crude to downright offensive, certainly not for children, yet outrageously funny and spot on in its parody of some of the worst traits of our culture.

Into the Great Silence

Go see Into the Great Silence when it comes to a theater near you. Around here it is only running for a week, which is probably about par for the course, so you may have to act fast. It is a gorgeous film, although the dialog is a little slow (ha ha ha, it is about life in a Carthusian monestary where the monks speak very little).

Excellent, fascinating, very beautiful film.

Not for those who think that story must dominate everything, and that a good film must be a two-act thriller working solely towards catharsis.

The Academy of Erik's Rants Awards

Unfortunately the Esteemed Academy only saw two or three new films in all of 2006, so the Awards Show has been cancelled. No actors, nor directors, nor dolly grips will go home with a little gold statue of Us this year.

Sorry.

Solveig Dommartin, RIP

One of those strange things: On January 20 of this year, while fiddling around looking for stuff on YouTube, I realized that Wings of Desire, my favorite film, is twenty years old. I wrote this piece, mainly because I was intrigued by the notion of making a stage play of that film.

Tonight I was looking for something else on the Internet Movie DataBase, and thought, "gee, I wonder if Solveig Dommartin has done anything recently."

When I clicked on her name I was shocked to see that she had died on January 17th of this year, only three days before I was thinking about Wings of Desire, which was as much about her as it was about Damiel (and was her first film appearance). She was only 45 and died of cardiac arrest.

Twenty Years Ago...

It is hard to believe that Himmel Uber Berlin, aka Wings of Desire is twenty years old (although by the time it got to Sacramento, I think it was 1988, so it was already a year old). It remains my all-time favorite film, mostly because it appeals to the lyrical/musical sense (images carefully moving in time) much more than the rhetorical sense (plot). What narratives there are twist together in beautifully subtle and interesting ways.

As far as angelology goes, there are a couple of questionable things, but in terms of a Catholic film, Wings of Desire takes first place, even though the director is not Catholic. Obviously there is the joy of the created world (even in Damiel's first human experience, which was getting clunked in the head with the armor), but more than that is the narrative around the old man (Homer), who is constantly searching for an epic of peace.

His search for an epic of peace against the history of warfare is something the angels contemplate, and is something that goes through the minds of the WWII survivors as they drive through areas that spark memories of the tragedy of that era. And we have to wait until the very end of the film to find the epic of peace, which is the story of procreation.

And, like the old cruise ship, getting there is half the fun in this mostly improvised masterpiece. We have Peter Falk playing himself, a couple of great performances by post-punk legend Nick Cave, some wonderfully off-kilter circus music, cinematography by Henri Alekan, and footage of a Berlin that is no more.

Now, keeping in mind that "getting there is half the fun," I am eagerly awaiting (and probably expecting disappointment from - how's that? To expect disappointment. What does that mean that I am expecting?) how this film works as a stage play. Curt Bois, who played Homer, is dead, the Berlin of the 1980's is gone (and that city really was a character in the drama), and they seem to be doing something different with it. They would have to. My question is how it will relate to the film. I am assuming that it will find its way to the Bay Area. I hope so, since I am currently boycotting both New York (Governor Spitzer?!? Ffft. Phteh. Blech.) and Massachussetts (yes, partly 1630's era grievances, but also to do with having a governor who actively practices the Mormon lifestyle), and will not see it in either of those states.

Anyway, here is an interesting PR piece from the theater company in Cambridge that is doing it, in conjunction with a Dutch company: