‘Somewhere’, the fourth film by Sofia Coppola begins with a car racing in and out of frame on a small, circular racetrack. The camera lingers on this scene for a good time, allowing the audience time to reflect on what the next couple of hours will bring. Will it be a miraculous change of direction for Coppola, a gritty, abrasive about two resentful family members? Or maybe, just maybe, Francis’ daughter will stick to her tried and tested cocktail of disaffected privileged people and studied ambience…
Yes, this is ANOTHER one of those films. But, as always, you can’t help but be compelled by the hypnotic mini-tragedies that Coppola presents us with. Here, the comfortably numb protagonist is played by Stephen Dorff, playing not-so-out-of-type as a bored film star in LA. When his casting was first announced I’m sure I wasn’t the only one who puzzled over his choice. Stephen Dorff isn’t a prestige actor, a name actor or someone with indie credibility. He’s just a minor movie star; which is absolutely perfect for the role. He has the movie star looks and presence, but offset with a rough and tired demeanour. One of the interesting things about his performance is the lack of emotion eminating from him-he feels like he’s coasting on neutral. Yes, this is a large aspect of many of Coppola’s central characters, but here it feels even more neutered, and for the audience, more of a challenge.
The film, like her previous works, plays in cycles and repetition, illuminating the mundanity and narrowness of Marco’s life. We see him smoking in his bedroom, in a restaurant, on his balcony, fooling around with girls, driving his shiny black sports car. Harry Savides, the legendary cinematographer (he worked with Francis among others), brings a casual, observational style to these ‘nothing’ scenes, letting Marco’s complacency ring out across the cinema. In particular, the awkward framing of a couple of showgirls performing privately for Marco leaves the viewer anything but tillitated. This particular scene is evidence of Coppola’s distinctive ability to find the wry humour and sadness in a situation.
Marco is mildly awakened from his slumber by the arrival back into his life of his daughter Cleo, plaed by Elle Fanning. Cleo, a bright, good natured girl is the juxtaposing purity to the seediness of Marco’s life. Is this perhaps a little contrived on Coppola’s part? Perhaps, but it works; without Elle, Marco, and the audience, would have nothing to live on. As some critics have noted, Elle, like the rest of the characters in the film, rarely ever challenges Marco’s lifestyle. One might say this is one of the most bittersweet and truthful aspects of the film; people are too wary to criticise and hurt people around them for fear of irreparably damaging them. It doesn’t hinder Marco that he is a famous film star, of course.
It’s hard to say what ‘Somewhere’ is really trying to tell us. Is it simply another film of alienated souls, or is there something more going on? One strong notable theme seems to be the representaion and sexualisation of women. Coming from a female director in particular, the scenes of Marco seducing numerous faceless women appear to be a strong indictment of the way women have been overly sexualised and demeaned in media and society. Coppola also points to the realtionship he has with women being an integral part to his own unhappiness. There is one small hint at unrest with his mother; we hear him on the phone onto his agent about a book that she has written about him.
Other than that, though, this is standard Coppola. Lost in Translation may have explored all these themes and ideas in a more potent and concise way, but Somewhere is still a compelling and enjoyable expansion on these points. It brings to mind Wim Wender’s excellent ‘Alice in the cities’ in both situation and style, but doesn’t quite live up to the standard of that particular film or her own previous work. It is, though, another welcome addition to her canon.
Monday 5 September 2011
Nightwatching + Peter Greenaway Q & A
Nightwatching, apparently Greenaway’s 15th film proper, tells the story of Rembrandt Van Rijn’s painting ‘The Nightwatch’ and its conception. In the British director’s version of events, Rembrandt reluctantly took on the task of painting an ensemble portrait of a group of Dutch dignitaries, but is tormented by the idea of glorifying a bunch of men with an array of sordid and unsavoury backgrounds. Thus, Rembrandt conspires to decorate the painting with subtle hints of their crimes, in order to expose their criminality and maintain his integrity as a painter. These hints include the appearance of an abused maid, a banished soldier and a fired gun- all evidence of corrupt activities.
Greenaway’s films have often been concerned with conspiracies and mysteries, so Nightwatching is in good company. I think the most able comparison for the film is his early feature The Draughtsman’s Contract, where a painter becomes entangled in a country house murder mystery. His new film is possibly one of his most accessible; in the Q & A he stated that he was encouraged to do A (commercial) and B (artistic) films in rotation, and this was considered by his backers as an A film.
How does it match up to his previous work? Well, I’d say it was up there with his best. Not quite up to the standards of The Cook, the thief…, but equal to Draughtsman’s and A Z and Two Noughts. It is one of his most warm, comedic films; the characters are actually very well drawn out and there are signs of genuine emotion. Martin Freeman is very good in the lead role, drawing on his comic capabilities as a put-upon man, while demonstrating a more dramatic pathos as well. The supporting cast is reliably excellent, although I was a little bemused by Nathalie Press’ performance; unneringly precious and slightly eerie in its execution.
But more importantly, as we’re talking about an artist filmmaker here, is that it looks absolutely stunning. Almost every interior is lit exquisitely like a Rembrandt painting. The period is accurately rendered in the production design, while the dramatic lighting gives the sets and the actors a resolutely painterly appearance. One of the standout scenes for me was an early scene where the house dines round circular tables, each person draped in shadow and with the slightly grainy texture of a painting. It is arguably his most visually resplendent film since Sacha Vierny’s death.
Another departed collaborator in Michael Nyman is hardly missed; his Polish successor conjuring Nyman’s propulsive and alternately serene passages, but in a new form. Nyman’s scoring is always something to look forward to, but here he has a capable substitute. One interesting thing Greenaway said was that one of the reasons he got into film was because he wanted to put paintings to music, and couldn’t do it anywhere else. Furthermore, instead of combining the visuals and aural aspects seamlessly into the narrative, he has always been determined to make the audience extremely aware of each element of production.
Greenaway was a compelling subject. He spoke with an actors booming voice and authority, somewhat pretentious some might say, talking into the heavens like a bonafide academic. I got the feeling, being that this was probably one of his first encounters with a British audience for a while, that he was using it as a platform for himself, and perhaps even wanted to prove something. He has often spoken out about the constraints of the British film industry, particularly for himself, and rightly so. One of the most pertinent questions was ‘Where can we get hold of your films?’, a damning indictment of Greenway’s reception in the UK. Much of the discussion centred around the future of cinema-it’s dead, apparently- and Greenaway’s multimedia work. He showed us a short clip of his work with ‘The Last Supper’, which used computer graphics to distort and play with the image. Frankly, it looked pretty silly and not far from an 80’s educational science video.
Stick to the feature films, Peter.
Greenaway’s films have often been concerned with conspiracies and mysteries, so Nightwatching is in good company. I think the most able comparison for the film is his early feature The Draughtsman’s Contract, where a painter becomes entangled in a country house murder mystery. His new film is possibly one of his most accessible; in the Q & A he stated that he was encouraged to do A (commercial) and B (artistic) films in rotation, and this was considered by his backers as an A film.
How does it match up to his previous work? Well, I’d say it was up there with his best. Not quite up to the standards of The Cook, the thief…, but equal to Draughtsman’s and A Z and Two Noughts. It is one of his most warm, comedic films; the characters are actually very well drawn out and there are signs of genuine emotion. Martin Freeman is very good in the lead role, drawing on his comic capabilities as a put-upon man, while demonstrating a more dramatic pathos as well. The supporting cast is reliably excellent, although I was a little bemused by Nathalie Press’ performance; unneringly precious and slightly eerie in its execution.
But more importantly, as we’re talking about an artist filmmaker here, is that it looks absolutely stunning. Almost every interior is lit exquisitely like a Rembrandt painting. The period is accurately rendered in the production design, while the dramatic lighting gives the sets and the actors a resolutely painterly appearance. One of the standout scenes for me was an early scene where the house dines round circular tables, each person draped in shadow and with the slightly grainy texture of a painting. It is arguably his most visually resplendent film since Sacha Vierny’s death.
Another departed collaborator in Michael Nyman is hardly missed; his Polish successor conjuring Nyman’s propulsive and alternately serene passages, but in a new form. Nyman’s scoring is always something to look forward to, but here he has a capable substitute. One interesting thing Greenaway said was that one of the reasons he got into film was because he wanted to put paintings to music, and couldn’t do it anywhere else. Furthermore, instead of combining the visuals and aural aspects seamlessly into the narrative, he has always been determined to make the audience extremely aware of each element of production.
Greenaway was a compelling subject. He spoke with an actors booming voice and authority, somewhat pretentious some might say, talking into the heavens like a bonafide academic. I got the feeling, being that this was probably one of his first encounters with a British audience for a while, that he was using it as a platform for himself, and perhaps even wanted to prove something. He has often spoken out about the constraints of the British film industry, particularly for himself, and rightly so. One of the most pertinent questions was ‘Where can we get hold of your films?’, a damning indictment of Greenway’s reception in the UK. Much of the discussion centred around the future of cinema-it’s dead, apparently- and Greenaway’s multimedia work. He showed us a short clip of his work with ‘The Last Supper’, which used computer graphics to distort and play with the image. Frankly, it looked pretty silly and not far from an 80’s educational science video.
Stick to the feature films, Peter.
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