The Overwhelming Conservatism of the Saw Franchise

WHOA!!! Been a while, eh? Looking at my last post I can easily say, holy shit, my ideas on film have changed drastically. It seems like I was terribly obsessed with technique, but now, it's all ideology and theory. So let's start up with a look at the Saw franchise, particularly the first installment.

The New Conservative Movement Gets a
Torture-Porn Makeover

The Saw franchise has become huge. Millions of dollars go into the making of the film ($47 million, collectively between the 6 installments according to IMDb.com) and millions of dollars are spent ($700+ million worldwide, between the six, according to IMDb.com) to see the film’s latest installment on the big screen in theatres. However, what the audience does not know is that they are also paying for a heavy dose of ideological propaganda. The ideologies present in these films are mostly embodied in the actions and preaching of one character, the Jigsaw killer, or John Kramer (Tobin Bell). In the Saw sequels, Kramer becomes the absolute center point. Unlike other horror characters like Jason Vorhees or Michael Myers where one does not know their individual ideologies due to their muteness, Kramer is quite vocal and loves talking about his motivations. Because we are learning both Jigsaw’s murderous practices and the ideologies behind them, the audience is encapsulated into John Kramer’s world. The problem with this is that, as the franchise progresses, it seems like the filmmakers believe that Jigsaw “might ‘have something’ to his morality” (Sharrett). However, in the first installment, of which will be our focus for this paper, Kramer is never given a moment to speak, except via tape, therefore his position as the film’s ideological vessel is hindered in comparison to the later installments. Nevertheless, though Kramer is never truly present in the first Saw film, which causes the ideologies to be less apparent, they are most certainly there.

The most important aspect of the film to discuss is the victims and how they have come to be under Jigsaw’s thumb. Jigsaw carefully selects his victims, making sure that those he decides to torture are people who, he believes, have lost a certain respect for life. So, if Jigsaw doesn’t like what you’re doing, he’ll come and grab you, similarly to the age-old Boogeyman. The victims in Saw vary from drug addict, to suicide attempter, to even an insurance violator faking his condition. These people are put into contraptions that often recall their “negative” actions in a more extreme way. For example, a man who had tried to commit suicide by cutting his wrists must run through a web of razor wire in order to escape Jigsaw’s “game”. The setups that Jigsaw constructs, which are always escapable if you follow Jigsaws orders, are elaborate marvels that border onto engineering genius and can be considered eye catching. With this in mind, one could come to the conclusion that Saw glorifies violence. Though I do believe it does glorify violence, I am more interested in how these contraptions develop the Jigsaw character and, therefore, relationship between him and the audience.

The focus the film puts on the torture scenes is quite significant. The majority of the first installment is set in a torture scenario, with one setting, while the rest of the story is told through flashbacks. Many of these flashbacks, though, are also dedicated to the various torture scenes (I would argue that we never leave the torture scenario ever because of the consistent mise-en-scene and film colour that interplays between torture scenarios and the outside world, but that’s another topic). Whenever the film analyzes each of Jigsaw’s contraptions, it marvels at it and never gives us an objective view of the setup. Instead we are given quick-moving shots, close-ups, fast cuts, etc. The audience is made terrified of these objects, but we are also supposed to be in awe of these objects and scenarios. Either the “game” includes a fatal machine with incredible, blood-shedding potential (even though we don’t get to see her die, the surviving victim, and us, are still shown the contraption’s potential when Jigsaw test it on a dummy), or the setup is so well thought out and meticulous, the audience, along with even the characters in the setup themselves (in the film’s overarching torture scenario, one characters says to the other, “every possible angle has been pre-thought out by him.” The screenplay continues to say, “Almost admiring him. The situation may be mad, but it’s a brilliant design.”) (IMSDb.com), are stunned by Jigsaw’s ingenious plans. We can also mention Jigsaw’s little “clues” (they are really simple), which also further develops our admiration for Jigsaw’s intricate setups. With all these factors in mind, one could easily argue that Jigsaw is to be respected and, to take it even further, admired for his intelligence. This can be seen when we read the film’s screenplay where it’s written, “

The film attempts to create a certain type of relationship between the audience and Jigsaw, a relationship, I argue, that is based upon respect and understanding. When a surviving victim of Jigsaw declares, “he helped me,” when being interrogated by the police, it is made obvious early in the film that we are supposed to look at Jigsaw as a sort of saviour figure. We are also constantly being reminded that he is not a murderer because, “technically speaking, he’s not really a murderer. He never killed anyone,” according to one of his victims. In actuality, Jigsaw only tested his victims with “games” that could be survived. With these pieces of dialogue, Jigsaw is being built as not a serial murderer, but as something more, something humane. It is made fairly obvious at this point that Jigsaw is a dictator figure. Jigsaw is trying to mold people into his own vision by putting his victims into compromising situations disguised as “lessons.” What’s truly troubling, from the evidence previously mentioned, is that the film is creating the Jigsaw killer to seem successful, or right.Because the film goes out of its way to argue for Jigsaw’s actions, it is safe to assume that the film wants us to agree with Jigsaw and, therefore, the film is presenting and arguing for a certain ideology.

Before I begin to argue about a couple of the ideologies present in this film, let’s first discuss Saw within the terms of Louis Althusser’s writings about the State, the repressive state apparatus to be specific. Althusser writes that Marxist thought believes the State “is a ‘machine’ of repression” that “ ‘functions by violence.’ ” This idea can be integrated into our understanding of Jigsaw. Jigsaw clearly has a certain idea of what, he believes, is right or wrong; the one’s who are deemed “right” are left alone, those who are deemed “wrong,” get punished, violently and must be forcibly reminded about this “fact.” The State, according to Althusser, forwards these ideologies through violence inflicted by police, the Army, etc. So, with this in mind, we can see the parallels between Jigsaw and the Marxist idea of the repressive State. However, simply because Jigsaw represents a force that represses people to the point where the must adopt his ideology or die, that doesn’t mean that Jigsaw has any power that can be compared to the type of power given to the State defenders. However, if you analyze the representation of police detectives in the film, you can see that the film is certainly hoping you compare Jigsaw to the police force, because much of the film is concerned with the cat-and-mouse chase between Jigsaw and the police. However, to put it simply, the police are represented as incompetent people who are both over-obsessive and letting their emotions get the best of them, or simply unintelligent. First of all, consider the fact that there have been 6 Saw films and the Jigsaw killer has yet to be captured by the police. In Saw, there are two detectives that can, at least, be considered to be substantial roles.Det. David Tapp (Danny Glover) and Det. Steven Sing (Ken Leung) are called upon to find Jigsaw. A successful hunch comes out-of-the-blue and the two find Jigsaw’s headquarters. To increase drama, the Jigsaw and the detectives have a dialogue, resulting in Tapp getting a non-fatal slice to the throat. Jigsaw is able to escape and, after inquiring about his partner’s health, Sing runs after Jigsaw, being incredibly irresponsible in his surveying of the surroundings, and walks into a wire that triggers several shotguns, resulting in Sing’s bloody death. After this incident, Tapp is discharged from the police force and becomes incredibly obsessed with Jigsaw and undertakes an independent investigation. In the film’s finale, Jigsaw is able to elude the police and kills Tapp, among other people, proving more so that Jigsaw is presented to be a person, or force, more able then the police.

Stepping outside of the ideological aspects held within the Jigsaw character, there are still more undercurrents of ideology held within the film’s mise-en-scene. Christopher Sharrett’s article, “The Problem of Saw: ‘Torture Porn’ and the Conservatism of Contemporary Horror Film,” is a large reference point for this argument. The world Jigsaw occupies is not a pretty one. It is presented in colour tones Sharrett describes as “nauseating” (Sharrett) and Jigsaw’s quarters are chaotic, as well as the environments he holds his victims captive in, even though Jigsaw comes off as a rigid man who desires order. After all, it is the rejection of order that characterizes Jigsaw’s victims. Because the film doesn’t seek or present any type of rebellion or answer to this landscape, the film assumes that it’s unalterable and, therefore, the film takes on this air of pessimism and conservatism that is “more fascinated with wallowing in decay than asking questions to the whys of its presence” (Sharrett).

There is a clear ideological blueprint behind Saw. The political leanings of the ideologies are up for debate, but the ideologies it presents are clear. The film is presenting a man who condones, and advertises, vigilante justice and a New World Order. This film most certainly leans towards an idea of dictatorial power and certainly tries to present Jigsaw not as someone with justified actions, but a man with a clear vision, as vision, I argue, that the filmmakers agree with. The filmmakers want you to agree with Jigsaw, regardless of whether you approve of his actions or not. Jigsaw is presented as a man with the ability of reasoning and it is very alarming and problematic, cause it seems like, according to the box office number, that a lot of people agree with the film's ideological stance enough to keep the franchise going even after 6 films.

If You Can't Laugh At Yourself...Well, You End Up With a Bad Flick

This article is dedicated to Cody who's been waiting for me to write a bad review of a film. Weirdly enough, it was a film he recommended to me.

I tend to enjoy these types of films. Couple of guys plan an easy going, yet exciting evening, of intoxication and maybe some light-hearted and harmless “boys being boys” chaos like getting kicked out bars and the type. However, what the night turns out to be is a force within itself. The characters get into ridiculous situations, seemingly trying their best to avoid, but cannot because the night has become its own entity. This is why I like these films, it’s a great twist on comedic setting where the night becomes somewhat of a character that has just as much significance in the film as its human counterparts. Films like Harold and Kumar Go To White Castle (2004) and Pineapple Express (2008) come to mind when talking about this young genre. I can still smell the marijuana coming off of almost everyone present at these two films’ screenings. Now comes The Hangover (2009), a film that takes this idea and, instead of focusing on the night of debauchery, skips ahead to the day after. No harm in innovation, except when it’s a bad idea.

To celebrate their friend’s marriage, Phil (Bradley Cooper) and Stu (Ed Helms) arrange a night in Las Vegas. The groom, Doug (Justin Bartha) brings along his soon-to-be brother-in-law Alan (Zach Galifianakis), a grown-man a bit on the mentally handicapped side and is by far the most lovable and funny character in the film, but that’s not saying much. The four guys check into their Caesar’s suite, have some brotherly shots of Jaggermeister on the roof of the Palace and head out for the night. Skipping ahead, the film shows the group waking in their destroyed suite with a tiger in the bathroom, a baby in the closet and their friend Doug missing. The three start retracing their steps when they begin to worry about the groom’s whereabouts which leads to shootings outside of wedding chapels, a naked Asian man jumping out of a car trunk and beating the three to a pulp, Mike Tyson making an appearance and shots to the head with a stun gun, among many other things.

So, what’s the problem? This film is completely uninspired. Cheap slapstick and tiring bathroom humour are abounding in this film. Yes, I’ll admit, bathroom humour is funny, but only for so long. The Hangover’s physical comedy is incredibly tedious, not entirely due to the stunts, but mostly because the characters are so uninteresting that one doesn’t care when something humourous happens to these men. Phil is incredibly annoying, though I believe the film’s intention was to portray him as such (I think of him as a failed version of Vaughn’s “Beanie” from Old School (2003)), Stu is simply boring and offers nothing much to the film and the character’s chemistry, Doug is never really present, and Alan gives a few good laughs by himself, but with the others, is just as dull. Not only can I not imagine these people hanging out with each other, I don’t want to see them hang out with each other.

As can be assumed from its title, The Hangover focuses on the morning after a wild night. Through out the film, we’re given glimpses of this night with photographs, security camera footage, etc. and I can’t help to think that a film about that night would have been much better than a film about the morning after. Having an entire film about retracing steps after a wild night doesn’t sound like a bad plot, but I would honestly rather watch these ridiculous events occur as the characters enjoy a carefree air filled with scenes of absurdity, instead of watching them look back in disgust and shock at what they had done. The characters, much like the film, take themselves to seriously to realize their situation and laugh at themselves. The films previously mentioned in the beginning are films that took their job seriously all while poking fun at themselves, realizing how ridiculous the film’s situations are and making light of them. The Hangover does not do that. It’s a film that is incredibly over the top, but it doesn’t acknowledge it and poke fun at itself. The film feels like a machine, simply pumping out gags that it believes to be statistically funny, but really aren’t. This results in a very cold atmosphere that doesn’t allow the audience to be sunk into the characters’ world, causing us to be completely passive towards them. There’s simply nothing to latch onto so we can comfortably enjoy the ride.

Allow me to make something clear. I do not hate Hollywood productions that are sure-fire hits (you’ll see that in my next review of Raimi’s Drag Me To Hell), I just hate films that feel totally sterilized and cookie-cutter like The Hangover. The film’s plot is very much predictable and when it isn’t, is absolutely ridiculous in a way that feels unnatural. The film is on auto-pilot, to quote a famous Ebert phrase, and we’re stuck with people one really couldn’t give a damn about.

Ingmar Bergman's Trilogy

After Bergman's international successes of The Seventh Seal (1957), Wild Strawberries (1957) and The Virgin Spring (1960), he decided to attack his next projects with a little less visual trickery and complex narratives. This resulted in a group of films many critics consider a trilogy of sorts. The constant theme of these film's is how they deal with religious uncertainty, a situation Bergman himself was in and wanted to address in his projects. The trilogy's three films, Through A Glass Darkly (1961), Winter Light (1962) and The Silence (1963) were pumped out at an incredible rate and often involved many of the same actors and actresses. I've yet to see the final installment, but based on the previous two, I can say that this is a trilogy amongst the other art house series like Kieslowski's Three Colors or Satyajit Ray's Apu trilogy. I highly recommend this series, along with the others I've mentioned if you haven't already.

On The Other Side

The Edge of Heaven asks a very large question in its narrative and themes, but instead of answering this question, the writer/director, Faith Akin, allows the narrative to flow naturally in order to reach a conclusion that is both suiting and open to interpretation. The question posed is, to some degree, how are we all connected? This is, as I said, a very large question to pose and a question that is clearly indecipherable, but the important thing to recognize is that Akin recognizes this fact and decides not to directly pose this question, but instead takes a couple stories that intertwine and see how they unravel into one cohesive and interdependent piece. Though I said Akin doesn’t present an answer to this question, I must mention that what binds these stories together is death. Akin has proposed in the past that he wishes to create a trilogy that includes “love, death and the Devil” explored in three films that will explore them exclusively. Akin’s 2004 effort, Head-On, a film I’ve seen a long time ago and can’t comment on, was the first of the trilogy and dealt with love. As previously mentioned, Heaven deals with death, but it would be wrong to assume that Akin believes that death is the sole thing that binds all humans. After all, human existence and thought is heavily based on the balance of life and death, therefore if death binds all humans, shouldn’t life as well? This question must be considered when looking at what occurs to a certain character when another dies.

Heaven is divided into three chapters, two of which give away their conclusion in the chapters’ name. The first chapter is called, “The Death of Yeter,” the second, “The Death of Lotte” and the final chapter, “The Edge of Heaven” or its direct translation from German, “On the Other Side.” The film divides its settings between Turkey and Germany, the latter being Akin’s birthplace and the former being his cultural background. The first chapter, set in Germany, tells the story of an old man, Ali Aksu, who is a Turkish immigrant who becomes obsessed with a Turk prostitute who is first introduced as Jesse and later discovered to be named, Yeter. Ali’s obsession builds to the point where the widower decides to pay Yeter to live with him. Ali’s son, Nejat, is at first dismissive of this absurd situation, but he soon grows closer to Yeter when the two have to deal with Ali's stroke. The second chapter, which is set in both countries, shows Turkey in political turmoil. Ayten Öztürk, a female rebellion in Turkey associated with a “terrorist” group, is put into a situation where she must leave Turkey and meet with the activist’s group’s branch in Germany. Ayten is given the alias, Gül, by the German branch, but she ends up offending the male dominated activist branch and is kicked out of the safe house. Ayten soon meets a German student, Lotte, who welcomes the mysterious Turk into her house where Lotte lives with her mother, Susanne. Charlotte and Ayten soon develop a strong and romantic relationship until it’s cut off when a routine vehicle check results in Ayten fleeing from the car, scared that the police could discover her true identity. Under arrest, Ayten fails to convince the German government to allow her to stay there and is sent back to Turkey. Lotte feels like it’s her duty to move to Turkey and attempt to free Ayten by learning the Turkish legal system. I won’t divulge how the two are killed, but as a result of the deaths of Yeter and Lotte, Susanne decides to continue her daughter’s fight to free Ayten from the Turkish women’s prison, while Nejat quits his post as a professor at a German university and moves to Turkey and spontaneously buys a small bookshop. Just as a reminder, many details were left out of this summary especially plot points concerning each character’s connection to the others.

Heaven is a stunningly beautiful film. Akin uses many wide shots showing the environment that the characters are in. It’s very rare to see a close-up in this film, which is perfectly suitable to the film’s themes and nature. Akin wants to show the grand web in which the characters live in and how these settings are a significant factor in how each one of the characters interact with each other. One scene in particular that truly stuck with me was the scene where Lotte and Ayten act upon their attraction to each other and begin to kiss during a party scene. Akin uses a wide shot, allowing everything and everyone in the crowded frame to be in focus and then the camera slowly pans towards the couple. Filmed in slow motion, the scene’s sensuality truly blossoms under these filmic conditions. In order to cement that feeling of connection between the characters, Akin uses a technique where a film’s shot is shown twice, but with a different character in each individual shot. This can be seen when the shot of Susanne leaving her apartment is exactly framed and set up with the same setting and extras of a previous shot of Lotte leaving her apartment. This technique of repeating a shot’s aesthetic further develops the idea of interconnectivity, regardless of one’s death.

The Edge of Heaven is an incredibly daring and yet simple film. Every scene is calculated to such a large degree that it warrants more study than a single viewing, yet the characters and story is so well plotted and developed that the film can be enjoyed as a great and simple tale about everyday people and how they interact with the world we live in. This is an incredibly strong that I highly recommend to anyone looking for a story about politics, love and suspense, to the cinephile who’s looking for something that will challenge the ideas of narrative, editing and cinematography. Faith Akin is a director that deserves much attention and one I will follow for many years to come.

Winnipeg...Winnipeg...Winnipeg...

The hometown syndrome is something that hits everyone at sometime in his or her life. At some point, one can only look at where they grew up with complete disdain. This is, to some degree, the overall sentiment of Guy Maddin’s recent feature My Winnipeg. This pseudo-documentary is, believe it or not, probably Maddin’s weirdest film. Winnipeg creates an awkward relation between its subject matter, the history of the Manitoban capital and Maddin's family life, and its presentation, neo-expressionism to the extreme. However, with Maddin’s stranger-than-fiction stories, it all fits seamlessly, even when the stories are questionable in their validity.

We begin on a train, Maddin’s means of escaping his “sleepy” hometown of Winnipeg. Everyone on this train hasn’t a clue of what’s going on except that they must leave and break this sleep spell that’s been cursed upon them since they entered the Canadian city. As the train flies by the sights of Winnipeg, Maddin begins his journey into its history and his familial situation. To present his family’s story, Maddin decides to cast actors to play his sister and two brothers, but in a strange twist, cast Ann Savage to play his mother while saying his mother is played by his actual mother. The father? Well, due to Mr. Maddin’s early death, Guy Maddin decided not to cast an actor to play his father, but instead put a dummy on set under the living room carpet just as a reminder.

Winnipeg’s family plot serves for some great entertainment, especially the moments that involve Maddin’s “mother”. Maddin does not present his mother under a very good light, but because of this, the film’s overall despairing attitude is multiplied significantly by the mother’s frigidness. Every scene involving the Maddin family has the mother character acting ridiculously. From the scene where the mother accuses her daughter of having sex in the family car to her obsession with the house’s upkeep, the mother character is hilariously nerve-wracking. Though some of the incidents involving the Savage character may be true, the mother character’s purpose is not so much for comic relief as much as she is used to personify Maddin’s view of his hometown. You can’t choose your mother and no matter how much you may grow to despise her, you must realize her significance in your development. This much can definitely be said about the place where you were raised.

Though the family story offers many laughs and puts lots of perspective on how the family unit is much like your hometown, it’s Maddin’s stories of Winnipeg that will grab your attention. The film’s portrayal of the city is, aesthetically, unflattering. Maddin’s style amongst all his films is very expressionistic, linking back to the German cinema of the 20s and 30s, as well as silent Hollywood cinema. Maddin’s stylistic choice truly leaves a viewer cold and, therefore, leaves a very bad impression upon us when it comes to our sentiment towards Winnipeg. Though this is definitely Maddin’s goal, he also wants to show how the city has a rich history he’s proud of. However, recent events have led Maddin to create a sort of love/hate relationship with Winnipeg. Though Maddin doesn’t present any stereotypically happy stories about his hometown, he definitely wants to emphasize its fantastically strange history. The most beautiful scene in Winnipeg involves Maddin’s retelling of the infamous séances that were once held by a previous Winnipeggan mayor. Several of the city’s elite sit at a circular table, holding hands and chanting, following a séance master. As a higher level of conscience is reached, a ballet begins. The flowing movement of the dancers mixed with Maddin’s spastic style creates this beautifully eerie scene that is absolutely stunning and though you’re not left with a cheery view of Winnipeg, you’re absolutely fascinated and much of this is greatly attributed to Maddin’s film style.

Maddin’s style amazes me. His success at recreating the style associated to the old silent and expressionistic days of film is astounding. Maddin has pinpointed every stylistic facet of these old film ages and has used them to his liking with incredible precision to detail, while still adding his own personal touch. Though Maddin’s choice of direction, camera movement and use of intertitles are all incredibly significant to Winnipeg’s style, credit must be given to the film’s editor and long time Maddin collaborator, John Gurdebeke. If it’s any film language that truly creates the aesthetic experience of Winnipeg, it’s the editing. Watching Winnipeg, it’s easy to see just how many cuts there are in any one scene and this is what creates the aesthetic experience Maddin is so known for. Several cuts within half a minute, fades and irises that scream 20s and, most of all, the superimpositions, are the few things that Gurdebeke does to translate the emotions of Winnipeg and to ultimately make this film as enjoyable as it is, both technically and emotionally.

My Winnipeg is entirely original. Like all of Maddin’s films, the style is bold and resonating with otherwordly beauty. The overall concept of the film is mysterious and enjoyable, though it’s incredibly questionable. The stories, whether true or not, will grab the attention of any spectator and leave you to automatically peruse every source possible just to discover whether or not these stories hold water. And if they don’t, it doesn’t matter because it simply proves Maddin’s ingeniousness when it comes to making the absurd completely believable through his convincing and trusting narration. The hometown syndrome is translated so effectively into this film that you will be forced to put your childhood home in perspective again, whether you like it or not.

The Sound Of Language

Eran Kolirin's The Band's Visit demands nothing from its audience except simple patience. It is a film that takes it's time in trying to show us the incredibly intricate relationships these men and women form in such a short amount of time, and all due to chance or, perhaps, miracles. Band's Visit is perfect in its minimalist aesthetics and justifiably so. The film presents an interesting concept and full characters that shouldn't be overshadowed by film trickery. The story suffices enough to grab even the most formalistic viewer's attention.

Egypt's Alexandria Ceremonial Police Orchestra arrive in Israel to play at an Arab cultural center, but end up stuck in an Israeli small town. After failed attempts to contact their embassy and with not enough money to rent hotel rooms for the eight piece, they are forced to ask a favour from a local restaurant owner, Dina. Dina invites the strict band leader, Lt. Col. Tawfiq, and his least favorite band member, Haled, to her apartment. The others get situated in Dina's restaurant and in the apartment of one of Dina's friends. The band members are shown in their new environments as the evening progresses, usually resulting in awkward moments involving communication (the band mates can only speak English with their hosts), under-the-surface racial tension, as well as moments of love, compassion and revelations.

The one thing that surprises me the most with this film is how it completely stays off the topic of racism. Kolirin is incredibly successful at creating a story where, what seems to be the obvious conflict of racism, becomes meaningless. However, this factor must be considered in retrospect because it truly makes the film all the more enjoyable because it is not until after the film that you realize you weren't bombarded with racial tension, but with forceful human emotion. The quasi-love story between Dina and Tawfiq is one of the best love stories I've seen put to film. A grand statement, yes, but no other film has put in so much thought and so much emotion in a relationship that only lasts for less than 12 hours.

Love, lust, betrayal and joy are all intermingled within this plot and each one is given it's allotted amount of screen time needed to insure the audience a chance to recognize each one to their full effect. It's probably the film's ending that will cause the most awe in a viewer. An amazing evening of romance and lessons has just passed with seemingly no impact on the character's, but, if you look closer and think, you can tell that this special and unusual evening left every band mate with some kind of personal revelation towards their music and towards their lives.

Though the Egyptian musicians are the main focus in Band's Visit, the film's other characters are equally as important and developed. Band's Visit explores the rough and adventurous lives of teenagers in a scene at a roller disco where an Israeli adolescent must step up and defeat his shyness in order to pursue a relationship with a woman. This scene is incredibly touching, with a tinge of Napoleon Dynamite-esque humour to it and leaves one with a wonderful "gee, shucks" feeling. Another scene where an Israeli becomes the center of attention is during a scene where an Israeli father explains to a band member the serenity he finds when he's in his son's nursery. The Israeli explains to the band member that it's this, this quietness and peace, that inspires him and should inspire the band member to finish his music arrangement. This scene comes after a very rough dinner with the Israeli's family and the visiting band members. As a result, the Israeli father confides in the band's second in charge, Simon, and describes to him how the nursery has become a sort of sanctuary where he hides with his sleeping son, in harmony and with a sort of reassurance that life will always have its ups, even when its downs seem more prevalent.

There really isn't much that can be said about Band's Visit except that it's a film built on raw human emotion and everyday miracles. Band's Visit is direct and delivers a grand emotional punch that can't really be explained through criticism. It's a slow-burner that leaves you with a great smile and a lump in the throat that you'll dwell upon several minutes after its gut-wrenching and, for lack of a better term, confusing yet beautiful ending. Band's Visit is completely original and incredibly successful in achieving its goal of introducing a possibly explosive situation and dismantling it into a fantasticly simple human tale.

WALL-E: a space odyssey

Who would have thought that one of the most scathing criticisms of today's society would come from a Disney Pixar production? However, WALL-E isn't simply brutally honest about how today's large-scale decisions can effect our future, but it's also a fascinating piece of art that uses state-of-the-art animation technology, presents a fascinating twist on animated film story archetypes and setting and is simply a fun film with lots of adventure, mystery and comedy.

The world has become a dump and WALL-E, a robotic trash compacter, must clean it up. WALL-E spends his days rummaging through the world's garbage, compacting the garbage into cubes that are stacked upon each other, creating large architectural structures. However, once in a while, WALL-E finds an object that peeks its interest and keeps it. We soon learn that the humans that left behind the mess are up in space on an intergalactic cruise liner, supposedly waiting for the Earth to be inhabitable once again. As WALL-E is performing its daily chores, a space ship lands upon the barren dump yard and unleashes a robot. WALL-E tries to befriend the new robot, but is quickly ignored because it seems to be on a dogged search for something. During a sand storm, WALL-E gains the trust of the robot by sharing its shelter with the robot, named Eve. WALL-E gives Eve a tour of the shelter and presents a plant sustaining in a boot to Eve. Eve goes into auto-pilot and grabs the plant from WALL-E and stores it within itself then goes into shutdown mode. After several days, a ship returns to Earth to retrieve the robot. WALL-E has become attached to Eve and decides to hitch a ride, which ends up at the galactic cruise-liner where the humans are harbored. At the ship, Eve delivers the plant which comes as a surprise to the captain. Soon, a conspiracy unfolds involving the ship's computer which has orders to not return home, no matter what. WALL-E's plot is thought provoking, incredibly fun and filled with twists and turns without ever feeling exaggerated. However, it's WALL-E's first half that really peaked my interest due to its originality and overwhelming realism.

WALL-E defies many conventions of Hollywood animation. Pixar is well known for presenting films involving the relationship between reality and fantasy; talking toys in Toy Story being sabotaged by human intervention, Finding Nemo with talking fish trying to weather against the harshness of the sea and, again, human intervention in their sea world, etc. However, WALL-E, in the beginning mind you, does not use a fantastic setting, but a setting with real people on billboards and advertisements, scary environmental conditions and silence. Basically, WALL-E presents our world if a robot was the only mobile thing on it.

As you've probably heard already, WALL-E's first half plays out like a silent film, but one difference is the subtlety and scarcity of its physical comedy. Yes, there are several moments where WALL-E finds itself in a hilarious and cute situation that results in slapstick, especially during scenes where it has found an object that sparks its interest, but it's WALL-E's expressions that really captures the audience. The slight move of its camera eyes, the tilt of its head, etc. These subtleties are the moments that can be attributed to the silent greats like Chaplin, Keaton and Gish, but at the same time, presenting something original and fun.

Though there are several aspects of WALL-E that stand out, the film's absolutely breath-taking animation overshadows many of these. Not much can be said about it, you must see it for yourself. Every detail, from the dust rolling off WALL-E's tracks to the landscape, is created with incredible precision. Nothing has been produced yet in animation that has impressed me as much as this film. I could go into detail about the technology used in order to create this mesmerizing visual spectacle, but who cares. The product and its awe factor are beyond those technicalities.

WALL-E will impress anyone. It's an amalgamation of things many people want to see in their films today; adventure, comedy, social-conscience and originality. WALL-E is incredibly impressive in how it covers and offers incite into the many aspects of entertainment and filmmaking. It is immensely pleasing to the aesthetics and could be viewed several times without any chance of boredom. Pixar have, thus far, created their best film and one of their best characters with WALL-E. I haven't a clue and am incredibly interested in what Pixar, possibly the most prolific and significant film production company today, can come up with next.