Category: Favorite Films

As a continuation of our analysis of interesting movies, we’ll look at a selection of films about FAMILY. We’re not talking about “family films” (which commonly refer to the category of safe and saccharine films for small children) but movies that deal with the issues that arise within the family structure and ultimately its relationship to the society which it nests. This area of filmmaking is often ignored in Hollywood despite its obvious importance and day-to-day relatability. Sure, there’s the odd family theme or moment, but it’s more often than not an afterthought, or worse, a contrived element designed to make you “feel good” at the end.  The Godfather is actually a family film even if it’s not an obvious one. It might be set inside the world of organized crime but the story is about a family’s trials and tribulations. That’s what makes it convincing AND what makes it so good.

For artists, writers and filmmakers, I can’t think of a topic more rich and diverse than stories about the family unit. In fact, their significance plays a direct part to understanding humanity; we all have a mother and a father and we’re all born with no choice but to deal with both social union and conflict. From Homer to Shakespeare, all stories begin and end with family in mind. And thus, for the creative to visually express, write about or act out human behavior, he needs to acquire a deep understanding of not just human physiology but human psychology. Good films enable us to empathize with our fellow human beings.

The following films tackle directly both the common and  uniquely-specific issues people have to deal with, all within the structure of the home and family. Some of these will inspire, while others will challenge you. Viewer beware.

The Royal Tenenbaums (directed by Wes Anderson)

Perhaps my favorite Wes Anderson film, The Royal Tenenbaums is a delightfully strange story about a talented yet totally dysfunctional family. Starring the diverse and hugely engaging Gene Hackman as Royal Tennabaum, the father who’s almost entirely responsible for his family’s psychosis, we witness the unusual circumstances that plague his three children, each one a former child prodigy but all now living disconnected lives and are entirely miserable. The story begins when Royal has run out of funds to live on and becomes homeless. His further discovery that an accountant (Danny Glover) has formally asked for the hand of his former wife (the always magnificent Angela Houston) then triggers an outlandish plot (he pretends to have cancer) to sneak himself back into the family household — literally. Suddenly, all the children find themselves back under the same roof, but this time as adults, all with issues to deal with among themselves and the colorful characters that surround them, including an old neighbor Eli (Owen Wilson) who’s a Tenenbaum wannabe and Raleigh St. Clair (Bill Murray) the daughter’s husband.

Funny at every turn, the characters are rich, ridiculous and impossible not to empathize with. That’s the power of Anderson; his characters, despite their almost cartoon mannerisms, are always so marvelously honest — we could only wish that people in the real world would be this true to themselves as they are here. The Royal Tenenbaums boasts a fantastic cast including Ben Stiller (the business genius), Luke Wilson (the tennis star), and Gwyneth Paltrow (the playwright) who play the three adult children respectively while Alec Baldwin lends his fabulous voice in narration. It’s a gem of a film — visually beautiful, insanely funny and surprisingly profound.

Tokyo Sonata (directed by Kiyoshi Kurasawa)

In Tokyo Sonata, we follow a man whose fortunes change as Japan’s economy gets hit by the 2009 global financial crisis. A manager at his company, Ryuhei (Teruyuki Tegawa) is fired from his job and is too prideful (or too fearful) to tell anyone about it, including his wife and children. So each day he pretends to go to work, in the meanwhile  lining up at the employment office, both looking for jobs that’s he qualified for (not many) and making himself busy so that he doesn’t come home too early so as to avoid any uncomfortable questions and adding to his growing bucket of lies. His wife Megumi is a stay-at-home housewife and mother to their two children, the older Takashi (also unemployable) who’s frustrated with his lack of direction and hope for the future and the younger Kenji, who’s struggling at school and is also miserable. Appearances being big in Japanese culture, it’s funny how all the politeness and friendly gestures do such poor jobs of masking the character’s inner feelings.

As Ryuhei continues to bring home the monthly checks to his wife (drawing from his limited severance benefits and unemployment insurance) he discovers a fellow unemployed friend who shows him the tricks to covering his tracks, for he, too, is doing the same, hiding the horrible truth from his family. Of course, all this is for not, as both him and his friend have been failing all along in their deception because everyone knows, including the children — one who wants to join the US army reserves and the other who wants to play piano. The father’s deception and unreasonably harsh disapproval of their desires further estranges him from his children. Meanwhile his wife falls into despair, her life has been on autopilot but now aware of the truth, sees little point in going on. But just as the film’s tragedy and humor (yes, it’s strangely funny!) seem to foreshadow an obvious conclusion, the movie takes an usual turn. Kurasawa’s directing enables you to get inside the character’s plight but also engages your curiosity about your own. What would you do in the same situation? How do you find meaning when crisis hits and reveals that you’ve been lost all along? Here, in Tokyo Sonata, a family’s cultural structure gets broken down in order for it to be rebuilt. I loved this movie.

Yi Yi (directed by Edward Yang)

Whenever I watch Edward Yang’s films I’m always surprised; he has a way of bringing your attention to things you wouldn’t normally look at. His use of camera and visual narrative give the moments in his story weight and substance. In Yi Yi (translated “A One and A Two”) Yang’s magic is spun around the lives of a modern day Taiwanese family. Beginning with a marriage and ending with a funeral, the story follows the life of NJ and his family. A good and principled man of little words, he’s forced to deal with problems that beset him both at home and at work. To make things even more complicated he’s presented with the opportunity to relive the past with a former lover, as he ponders the game of “what if” — would his life be happier had he chosen a different path? The family members, too, have their own issues and are completely unaware of each other’s problems. The wife is suffering from a depression. Grandma’s in a coma. NJ’s lonely teenage daughter is caught up in a love triangle as she experiences her first romance. But perhaps the most interesting actions follow that of NJ’s quiet eight year-old boy Yang Yang who’s being bullied at school by a bunch of girls. The film makes you ponder all the joys and ambitions of life as well as its sufferings and regrets. It probes the life that’s so busy that we forget to live and forget also that other people are involved. Edward Yang is an auteur of meaningful cinema and this film might be his best. Brimming with sadness, humor and beauty, Yi Yi completes itself with an absolutely perfect ending.

Kramer vs Kramer (directed by Robert Benton)

Robert Benton’s 1979 film Kramer vs Kramer is a slick-moving yet deeply touching film. Set in New York City, we follow the sudden break up of a marriage. Caught in midst of a major proposal at work, Kramer (Dustin Hoffman) has been unaware of his wife’s misery and is caught completely flat-footed. Atypical of most divorces, we have the wife and mother leaving the child behind. Before he knows it, he’s stuck with what he feels is a shocking betrayal and has to both raise his boy and keep up with the demands of his already challenging job. Much difficulty arises for Kramer but he begins to make inroads on becoming a better father. But then comes the hard part; just as things begin to look good, his former wife (Meryl Streep) returns to demand custody of the child. Having sacrificed his good standing at work, he’s now forced into financial and emotional chaos as the case heads to court. Both Hoffman and Streep (who both captured Oscars here) are amazing as we witness two individuals who live, breathe, struggle and change. Director Robert Benton takes no sides in Kramer vs Kramer; we get no sense that either husband or wife is wrong here. This is just something that happens to families.

Harmonium (directed by Koji Fukada)

As a follow up to Hospitalité, his disturbing yet playful exploration into the family affair, Koji Fukada’s Harmonium is an imposing film that quietly grabs you by the neck and pulls you along with it. The story begins when a strange man (played by the ever-captivating Tadanobu Asano) comes by the family workshop of Toshio (played by Kanji Furutachi) a quite albeit devoted patriarch of a family of three which include his wife Akie (Mariko Sutsui) and his young daughter Hotaru. The home is both vocation and sanctuary; the father’s workshop occupies most of the bottom floor of their two-story flat. The peaceful set up is interrupted suddenly when Kanji not only invites the stranger to stay with them but also employs him at his workshop, all without consulting his wife. In Japan, the homes are small, so there’s little privacy and this new situation brings both suspicion and discomfort to Akie. As time passes, her attitude towards him changes; the visitor is quiet, polite and well-mannered and she’s moved by his gestures to help their daughter with the harmonium, an organ-like instrument which she’s been learning.

All this time, the father has been silent but knowingly uneasy. He doesn’t say anything at first, but soon, it’s clear this “old friend” is here for a reason. The mood slides from that of tranquility to foreboding as we’re compelled to follow the plot. In Harmonium, we’re challenged to ask how we look at families, for things are never what they seem. What’s really going on in the minds of people as they go about their daily business? Do we truly know the family members that make up most of our social interactions? What are the consequences of adding another member to the family structure? And does it take the arrival of an outsider or a crisis to force us to look at such truths, like those that dwell in the past but affect the present? Kurada’s film is not for the faint of heart, but if you let it, it will make you think about these things long after it’s over.

The Descendants (directed by Alexander Payne)

Besides Clint Eastwood, there are few directors that have probed as deeply into the fabric of American life as Alexander Payne. Whether it be a satirical take on high school politics (Election), an exploration into the emptiness of old age and retirement (About Schmidt), a magnification of the greyness of life in middle America (Nebraska) or a piercing tour of friendship as two buddies travel through wine country (Sideways), his films allow the characters to truly breathe and interact; they trip and fall clumsily uninhibited by casual scripting. The Descendants (2011) takes place in Hawaii, where “people are just as screwed up as anywhere else in America” according to our hero Matt King (George Clooney). Matt is a lawyer, and a busy one who, like many breadwinners of their families, is preoccupied with work. That is, until his wife Elizabeth (Patricia Hastie) ends up in a coma from a boating accident and the doctors will be pulling the plug and soon.

He’s now suddenly stuck with having to tell his children the bad news and becoming a single parent, a role he’s been almost completely absent. He doesn’t know his children. The older Alexandra (Shailene Woodley) is in college while the younger Scottie (Amara Miller) is still in Elementary School; both are potty-mouthed, snarky and have “no respect for authority.” To make matters worse, he’s also the steward of the family estate, a plot of land representing hundreds of acres of prime Hawaiian real estate worth hundreds of millions of dollars that now needs to be dispersed amongst the extended family of aunts, uncles and cousins — all whom want and need the money from the proceeds aside from a few noble, protect-the-land holdouts. Oh, on top of all that he discovers that Elizabeth has been unfaithful. Family crap doesn’t get more complex than this. Along the ride to discover the truth of the affair, we meet other characters — Elizabeth’s father (Robert Forster), his daughter’s best friend Sid (Nick Krause) and cousin Hugh (Beau Bridges) who together bring wonderful tension and humor to the plot and character interactions. The film is comedic, yet digs deep into moral concerns. Great directors can do this — play with paradoxes while getting you completely vested in the characters.

Tokyo Story (directed by Yasujiro Ozu)

I can hardly talk about family films without bringing up Ozu. Known internationally for making slow, yet deeply profound films about the Japanese household in industrialized, post-war Japan, Director Yasujiro Ozu has made what some might call one of the greatest films ever. Tokyo Story, like his other films, mostly take place within the home. Here, we arrive at the story of an old couple who find themselves dismayed by the reaction (or lack of reaction) of their children and grandchildren when they (the couple) come to visit. After they leave, the elderly couple find that the experience continues to circle their minds and weigh heavily in their hearts. Disappointment, lack of respect and unrequited love brew in the air as we watch the characters mostly sit, talk and go about their daily routines slowly. What’s revealed is deep feelings members of a household have while they struggle with bottling it up inside. Ozu rarely moves the camera, yet his films are beautiful and poignant. Each composition, focal point and action are carefully thought out. There are no gimmicks or contrivances here to trigger emotion. And the acting is subtle and nuanced. The result is a movie that’s direct and deeply heartfelt while being completely unsentimental. Ozu’s consistent themes about the destruction of the family unit due to modernization and the endless busyness of work couldn’t be more applicable to our situation here in the 21st century. This is must-see cinema that is relevant as long as humans are still around. Ozu is a great teacher of life.

To see more Favorite Films go here.

Science Fiction films can be the funnest films anyone can watch. To ponder about the future and the fate of humanity is always bound to intrigue the mind. Unfortunately, like many bad comedies or empty action flicks, they can easily be handled with crassness and flooded with superficial externalities. In this case, this means seemingly justifiable pyrotechnics and senseless use of VFX — eye candy that exists for its own purpose rather than serving the film — because producers and audiences alike think that that’s what this genre is all about. Of course, they’re wrong; the real beauty of science fiction lies in its ability to move our minds and then surprise us with its visual strangeness and beauty.

Here’s a small selection of the films, both old (and slightly newer), that I watch periodically that bring out the best reasons to watch science fiction spectacles.

2001: A Space Odyssey (directed by Stanley Kubrick)

Stanley Kubrick’s groundbreaking original film based on Arthur C. Clarke’s novel practically defines the genre. The best modern sci-fi movies (such as Gravity, Interstellar etc) all pay tribute to its grand scale, epic cinematography and moments of solitary repose.

But here in Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey we go deep into the biggest questions about our existence — where we come from and where we’re ultimately heading. Beginning with the sudden appearance of the monolith during the age of the primordial apeman to the arrival of the star-child, the film covers the largest existential scope imaginable. The slow measured pace of the filmmaking gives the movie weight, balancing the ethereal with real physical tension. We can feel the scale of things — time, space, life — all the while observing the unknown yet somehow feeling a part of it. The film travels through four major segments in time and location; the discovery of tools in earthbound pre-human history, man’s journey into space, the arrival of self-aware artificial intelligence, and lastly, the death/rebirth of man. Each of the phases becomes more intellectually challenging than the previous, a fact that drove both audiences and critics alike to lose their minds in their analysis and criticism of the movie upon its initial release. Even today, there’s still no agreeable consensus as to the film’s exact happenings and their meanings, the philosophical and the allegorical seemingly open-ended.

Despite such convoluted confusion — done on purpose according to Kubrick — the film draws you in deeply. The strong single-point perspective camera provides not just clear focal beauty but a mood that complements the movie’s grandness. This feeling of scale is furthermore complemented by arguably the most powerful opening score in film history, all helping to make 2001: A Space Odyssey the ultimate science fiction experience.

Alien (directed by Ridley Scott)

Another film I watch annually is Ridley Scott’s sensational and terrifying masterpiece Alien. Promoted as a typical “monster in the house” sci-fi/horror flick, Alien is so much more. It’s a film the begins in sleep and ends in sleep, noting perhaps that humans have been comatose the whole time, not knowing the reasons for anything. We begin with a bunch of rocket scientists onboard a spacecraft set on a routine interstellar mission. But before long this crew finds itself deviating from its plans, and on its way, picks up an unsuspecting hijacker. We don’t know where it comes from or what it is, but it comes to terrify and ultimately destroy the entire crew save for one pilot, Ripley, played with strength and sensitivity by Sigourney Weaver.

I saw Alien by myself when I was quite young, in a foreign city (which is probably why I was even let into the theatre). It scared the heck out of me. And some of the scenes still throttle me today because the suspense is so brilliant, that even when you’ve seen the film, it still gets you. Aliens (the sequel by James Cameron) is also entertaining, but in a different sort of way. Weaver again, is brilliant in it, in what I would truly call a strong woman’s role (as opposed to what’s being proffered today — sexy actresses who fight fearlessly with their superpowers.) Here in Alien, Weaver’s Ripley is scared, vulnerable and resourceful. You feel her plight and admire her courage. Supplemented by H.R. Giger’s legendary designs and a quiet yet ominous score, Alien is a great film, perhaps even Ridley Scott’s finest.

Total Recall (directed by Paul Verhoeven)

I love Paul Verhoeven. His films aren’t afraid to be a little silly and fun (check out another sci-fi gem, the original Robocop). Yet, at the same time, his filmmaking skills are formidable. With astute camera work, brilliant pacing and prescient imagery, you really get into his adventures. Total Recall, starring the one and only Arnold Schwarzeneggar, is Verhoeven at his best. Set in a modern yet industrial future, it features a perplexed construction worker who’s obsessed with a series of dreams about Mars. In his search to alleviate these tensions, he goes to Rekall, a vacation company that sells virtual tours — dreams “so real you’re mind won’t know the difference.” When things go wrong, the protagonist Quaid, played by Arnold, ends up on a dangerous adventure on route to finding out his true identity.

Loaded with memorable sets and action sequences, Total Recall, is bursting with brilliant twists and turns and is just loads of visual fun. The casting is perfect — both Arnold and Sharon Stone are fabulous here — and despite the unbelievability of it all, you willingly fall right into the chase. (The same cannot be said about its remake, starring Colin Farrell despite Farrell being a superior-trained actor.) It’s a film I just want to see every once in a while, like going for a great double cheese burger with all the works.

The Day the Earth Stood Still  (directed by Robert Wise)

This is an old time gem. Despite it’s dated (1951) visual effects and simple black and white film stock, Robert Wise’s The Day The Earth Stood Still continues to carry with it real drama and feeling. The story begins with the arrival of a stranger from outer space, played by Michael Rennie, who comes to warn our species of its insensitive and harmful ways of doing things — supposedly our proclivity for war and the recent development of nuclear weapons.

Arriving in humanoid form, Rennie’s Klaatu, is calm, wise and patient despite being surrounded and later captured by the US Military upon his arrival in a “flying saucer” (yes, this is very mid-century). He later escapes, and upon befriending a widow and her young son, makes known his real reasons for being here and who he really is. With orders to destroy the earth’s inhabitants should we not comply, Klaatu’s robot Gort (which represents a fleet of the same such powerful technology that patrols interplanetary peace) sustains a menacing presence despite his low-tech appearance by today’s standards. But in Robert Wise’s film, it’s the ideas that resonate, and the care and attention to the plot and its characters. Despite its age, I still love this film. There’s a sincerity in the delivery and in the message that it conveys — that is, the preciousness of life and peace here on this tiny planet.

Brazil (directed by Terry Gilliam)

One of the strangest dystopian movies of our time, Terry Gilliam’s Brazil is a delectable visual treat. Unique in its character development and loaded with the kind of bizarre antics that are to be expected from one of the geniuses of the Monty Python crew, Brazil nonetheless makes a strong and cohesive statement about conformity and tyrannical government power. In fact, the film is all about control and the battle for physical freedom and intellectual sanity.

The wonderful set pieces alone are iconic and the characters — from Jonathan Pryce’s  befuddled Sam Lowry to Robert DeNiro’s terrorist spy Harry Tuttle — bring flavor to the scenes. Gilliam’s frequent use of wide lenses and cantered upshots, give an already strange world a buffoon-like quality, filled with ludicrous scenarios and absurdly loud human behaviour that makes this all the more surreal. It’s as if the director threw in everything that he found obnoxious in our current human civilization, amped it up a couple of notches and filled the entire world that way, everywhere, all the time.

Brazil is a powerful warning about consumer driven distraction, industrial dominance and totalitarian bureaucracy. It tantalizes with its visuals and its break-neck pacing and finishes up with a perfectly convoluted dream-like climax. It’s a film that makes you wonder what’s true and what’s not from beginning to end.

Gattaca (directed by Andrew Niccol)

This is a true thinking person’s film. Without any dependence on special effects or fancy set pieces, Andrew Niccol’s Gattaca gravitates ours concerns about mortality and the impact of one of our most prominent technologies, genetic engineering. Starring Ethan Hawke, the film features a young man who finds a job passing himself off as another person, a genetically superior human, a champion swimmer played by a very charming Jude Law, who due to a night of drunkenness is now a paraplegic. Hawke’s character Vincent aspires to travel to outer space, where life is better and free from genetic discrimination. But being born outside the world of eugenics he has no hope of achieving his dreams, at least not until he signs up to fake an identity of Law’s character, Jerome, who needs the money and the illusion that his life still has some sort of meaning.

In his pretending to be Jerome, Vincent encounters all the troubles associated with faking it in a world where everything is tracked: height, fitness levels, eye scans, and even hair and skin follicles — basically anything and everything that could identify and locate an individual in a fully-monitored society. Yet here’s the catch; because everything’s computer tracked, no one doubts the most obvious — namely that Vincent looks nothing like Jerome but since no one looks or doubts when the machines say “match,” it all works. And it all does for Vincent as he gets a job at the space launch academy Gattaca (set tastefully inside a Frank Lloyd Wright building my wife used to work at it) until a murder happens. Then things get messy.

The art direction, acting and atmosphere are subdued and appropriate. And, unlike most other science fiction movies, it’s one that portrays a future that could very well become true in the not too distant future. This makes Gattaca one of the smartest and most provocative films of its genre.

Blade Runner (directed by Ridley Scott)

Ridley Scott’s other masterpiece Blade Runner, starring Harrison Ford, is the ultimate dystopian set piece. In a world of flying cars, a vanquished sun, and androids, the big existential questions dominate this beautifully produced film. Set in Los Angeles during the year 2019 (as usual, science fiction is always wrong on the dates when it comes to technology), Blade Runner feels a bit like a futuristic cops and criminals mystery thriller, but it isn’t. Ford, who plays a “Blade Runner,” is a special agent out to spot and “retire” (kill) replicants, androids who are no longer licensed to live. In this case, the escapees are Nexus ex-military units that have come back to earth after abandoning their assignments as warrior/worker slaves. The idea of self-aware robots that look human challenges the very existence of our species and the reasons for our survival, especially given that AI robots would be superior to real humans in almost every way; beauty, strength and intelligence. But here’s the catch; these Nexus androids were programmed with an expiry date. This makes for an excellent premise.

Much has been made of the recent sequel, Blade Runner 2049 starring Ryan Gosling. It’s carries with it the same existential questions and makes a valiant attempt to provide more answers. But because it does, or tries to, it weakens the mystery. What makes science fiction like Scott’s original film so great is it takes pleasure, and gives you that same pleasure, in not knowing the truth. We live for this mystery because questions hungrily drives us forward. Complemented by Harrison Ford’s bewildered presence and Rutger Hauer’s chilling performance as Roy Batty, as well as its distinctive production design, Blade Runner will always remain a landmark film and a true favorite.

To see other Favorite Films go here.