Several fantasies thus converge and Miller and Rodriguez put the mix over with an air of lurid festivity. In one scene the whores have tied a man to a chair and are beating him; in another scene one of the girls is stripped and being lashed. What I don't get is why Miller and Rodriguez don't just tumble all the way into porno and have her enjoy it. Russ Meyer would have. Honestly I prefer Meyer's amateurish striving for depravity as opposed to the inverted wholesomeness of these sexcats who just want to be left in peace to fuck and kill for themselves.
Clearly Miller and Rodriguez don't expect you to take it seriously. But the fantasies pile up in a restricted range and the actors don't all seem to be in on the same joke. Mickey Rourke is the champ, carrying off a one-note act longer than you might believe possible. His character isn't a coherent persona even by comic-book standards--he's so ugly even hookers won't have him but he takes his rage out only on men who hurt women. But Rourke just lets it rip across the screen, embodying his character's mix of cretinous sadism and otherwise total goodness with unadorned gusto; by his blood-gurgling finish I found I had accepted the character as given. Besides Rourke, only Brittany Murphy seems aware that some form of emphatic style is essential. (Michael Madsen reads his lines as if he were still auditioning.) Despite this lack of coordination, you can tell that it's all meant to be facetiously overblown--the jut-jawed men who can endure being pummeled with a sledgehammer, the women who combine fishnetted t-'n'-a with ninja skills--but at a certain point my tongue curled up in my cheek and went to sleep.
Sadly, the best sequence by far is the one guest-directed by Quentin Tarantino, in which Benicio del Toro's voice changes according to the position of his head, which has nearly been cut off. (Tarantino links physical and verbal slapstick as closely as possible; it's like some goofy-ghoulish life-sized puppet show.) In Rodriguez's last movie, Once Upon a Time in Mexico, I was impressed to see how he finally circumscribed all the craziness--the overcomplicated plot; the action stunts, one of them worthy of Jackie Chan; the fermented sense of corruption; the cuckoo political cabaret comedy involving Johnny Depp's CIA operative--all of it, in a straightforwardly traditional romance narrative of a knight regaining his sense of vocation and shielding a noble leader. But by that same stroke the core of Once Upon a Time in Mexico couldn't support the elaboration on its surface, and it has imploded in my memory. Rodriguez isn't hellacious enough a technician to do without the sense that Tarantino has in spades--that the style of the actors' interplay is the true center of any story. (If Depp's execution of his performance had been as virtuosic as his conception of it he might have carried the movie.)
Article comments
1 - TylerNewton
"Sin City thus looks more like a comic book than any other movie adapted from one."
THAT'S THE WHOLE POINT. The movie is a panel for panel rendition of 3 of the Sin City graphic NOVELS. Read the novels before you trash the film, since the film is nothing more than the comic book LITERALLY put onto the big screen. Thus any gripe you have with the film, you have with the graphic NOVEL.
As for Oldboy, I think you are being much too harsh on it. You must be someone who enjoys watching "movies" like Are We There Yet? and Hitch.
You'll first notice Director Chan-wook Park's take on Kafka's material.
Like Kafka did with The Metamorphosis, Park skips interim fluff between
important sequences and nearly always just cuts to the chase. Rarely
are we faced with a scene that doesn't contain an essential
revelation or storyline twist. Each scene is essential in constructing
Park's maze-like screenplay and does so with a pace that's
unrelenting in its speed. Also, Park loves to confuse reality with
dream in Oldboy. Again relating the film to Kafka's novella, Park
never really discerns between fact and fiction. Many times we're
presented with a scene that seems strictly dream-like (a woman on a
train inhabited only by a giant ant), only to have the film carry on in
the very reality we previously realized only as imagination. And he
never lets us settle with characters we believe to be human. For
instance, because Dae-Su's only linguistic interaction for the last
fifteen years was with his television, most of his words in the real
world come straight from the "truths" he heard from the TV. And
many of the characters, despite making human mistakes, take vengeance
in the most inhuman of ways. Dae-Su's weapon of choice is a hammer
for pete's sake!
But much of Oldboy's power comes from its incredible honesty. Park
uses his Kafka-esque plotting to keep us on the edge of our seats, even
in the most inhumane of moments. His violence is brutal, his sex is
real, and most of all, his taste for revenge is simply palpable. He
grips our psyche to mold us to his film's will, drawing us deeper
into its convoluted reality and spitting us out when he's all
through. It's a twisted, cathartic experience that I absorbed for
days afterward. It works on all angles of our cerebral organ, evoking
emotions and images that I will not soon forget.
2 - TylerNewton
The last few paragraphs above are portions of my review of Oldboy on my blog.
3 - Quack Corleone
Excellent reviews.
Not only is it nice to find an article in the video section about something other than American Idol(!), but it's a pleasure to read one that looks into a film. [Although I don't agree with your assessment of 'Oldboy'] the obeservation about Oh Dae-su and the angel gift for his daughter was something I hadn't noticed, but is quite interesting.
It's also fun to look at 'Oldboy' as a tragedy [if you see it more than once]. A tragedy like 'Oedipus the King' maybe...
4 - Alan Dale
Thanks for writing:
1. As for the look of Sin City, I know it's "the whole point"; that's why I mentioned it in the first paragraph. My comments there are purely descriptive. If you want to find out why the movie disappointed me, look for the word "repetitious."
2. If Sin City is a panel-for-panel rendition of the comic books--that is, if the books and the movie are functional equivalents--why would I need to read the books in order to critique the movie? The opposite inference--"If you've seen one you've seen the other"--is more logical.
3. "You must be someone who enjoys watching 'movies' like Are We There Yet? and Hitch": One of the curses of commentary on the web, as of discourse in general nowadays, is the prevalence of ad hominem attacks like this one. In the first place your comment is plainly inaccurate as applied to me, but even if it were accurate, I could like those movies and still put forth valid criticism of Oldboy. My ideas about Oldboy stand or fall on their merits, not by association.
4. I almost mentioned Kafka in my review, though I think that The Trial would be the closest "match" for Oldboy. The connection: Kafka's stories are darkened by the inscrutable ill-will of whatever force we live in the grips of; he pushes his fantastic plots in the direction of horrific alienation and deadpan comedy by the same strokes. What you say about Kafka--"Like Kafka did with The Metamorphosis, Park skips interim fluff between important sequences and nearly always just cuts to the chase"--is hardly what distinguishes Kafka among writers, even if it is true. Oldboy reminded me of Kafka b/c Oh Dae-su is punished without being told why. What you write--"Park uses his Kafka-esque plotting to keep us on the edge of our seats"--doesn't get at what Park adds to the Kafkaesque alienation, that is, the action-picture suspense and descents into shocking violence. To my mind that's how he keeps us on the edge of our seats, b/c we know there must be worse ahead. And Park isn't anywhere near as funny as Kafka.
5. Actually, I think my comments about Oldboy are pretty respectful ("fascinating combination of impersonality and obsession"), especially considering I almost walked out three times. I can't get a lot of the actions and imagery out of my head, either. But a lot of stuff gets caught up there; I just don't think that alone qualifies Park's movie, or any movie, for the Pantheon.
5 - Alan Dale
To Quack Corleone:
Thanks for writing. I think you could make a convincing case for Oldboy as tragedy, speaking technically. The problem for me is that Oldboy lacks some dimension that would give meaning to tragedy, just as it lacks the lift of the greatest quest romances. Park seems way more invested in the instant gratification of action movie conventions than in any grander purpose.