childhood.

I sucame to the epic sweeping camera with a fancy wide angle lens. For years I have resented the fancy footwork that is aligned with a gratuitous Michael Bay pic, but as the fiery cars exploded in IMAX highdef as Hagrid swooped Sirius' flying motorbike into a busy London tunnel I could not help but return to those naive sensations associated with one's first action film or classic car chase.

I am so fucking jaded most of the time. Honestly, it takes a lot to make me cringe, gasp, jump or even stir nowadays. But this film, bringing an end to an era that has defined the last fifteen years of my life, literally caused me to digress as a filmic viewer. The Harry Potter film franchise took little liberty with Rowling's original tale. Allowing the most indulgent first-part finish to the seven part series. For two and a half hours we relish in the intricacies of the seventh book, leaving behind those without prior knowledge or careful attention to the elegant development of the narrative. And at this point, if you don't know what's going on, get the hell out my theater. Harry, Ron and Hermione venture off into the wild (or incredible landscapes of the United Kingdom countryside) as full-on adult wizard, without a trace, without Dumbledore, and frankly without a clue of what to do. Relishing in Nazi imagery and heavy-handed visual reference to the Holocaust, this is a dark and dangerous world; and frankly full-on PG-13. But what all the Hollywood and Hogwarts magic added up to was a pretty clean film. It was polished in the most mainstream of sense, carefully interweaving the expensive sweeping helicopter shots with the constructed handheld camera work when the going got tough. Sure the narrative, to the unknowing viewer, may leave some explanation to be desired, but for the fan, for the child who never received their Hogwarts letter, it was as close to narrative justice and we're going to get. We can't go back and fix the mistakes of the past 6 films (cough, Goblet of Fire cough) but we can have this one.

So as I began to point to at the beginning of my eulogy to the last twelve years of my life. the cinematic polish and flash of the film combined with loyal narrative adaption allowed me for just a few flickering moment to return to a naive viewing position. One where the mesmerized child took hold to derive pleasure from the Hollywood glitz and glam that now makes my stomach churn and have even come to resent. I was ten years old again. Watching a film I'm not quite old enough to see. And completely absorbed, nostalgic and sad at the same time. It was almost too much. Shit. We'll see what the final part brings...

Blair Witch 2

The internet and fan phenomenon that was Paranormal Activity has cloned itself. I was witness to a similar scene last night, nearly deja vu, as I sat in a crowded movie theater full of loud and excited college students. We had all "demanded" this. However the spirit that was internet buzz, which had previously spurred the release of the first film, was all together lack luster on this Wednesday evening. The over-baring "security" that prevented us from "texting or twittering" about anything in this "secret" horror pic, only added to obnoxious energy of the room. It was your typical young horror film viewing experience: boys who think it's funny to scream out at the audience and chatter throughout the film. And this probably would have bothered me if I actually cared about what was going on.

Boy was it slow. The shaking hand held camera work of the first, which had so uncomfortably left me out of control of the image, was replaced with 5 stagnant security images. The second actually serves as a prequel to the first, revealing the logic behind the demon hauntings of the first. We get the story of Katie's sister and the birth of her first born son as the demon attempts to take what his rightfully his at a glacial pace. And of course, as we moved from night to night, the film attempted to build the unpleasant tension of the first film. And it took 11 nights before a damn thing happened. It was so slow that the midnight screening time in conjunction my sitting position was begging me to close my eyes and doze as the audience (right-on-cue) stirred and buzzed with each nightfall. Once the action finally started, it was an over-the-top version of the first film. We were allowed to linger on action for far too long, as our own logic of reality was allowed to overtake any fear we might have. It then took a turn towards Quarantine as the night vision was switched on and the hand held kicked in. Whatever. Been there, done that twice now.

Here's the problem: I don't give a shit why Katie was possessed. Nor do I particularly care about her sister, her nephew or her brother in law. So when they all meet their inevitable death (don't even try to accuse me of spoiler alert), we just don't care, and we're so tired from the popcorn digesting in our stomachs and amount of time we've spent in the dark, that we just want the whole thing to be done and over with. Stop trying to recreate a distinct moment in internet/movie history. It's neither going to happen, nor ever be the same. This ain't no Transformer's 3.

Paranormal Activity 2 learned absolutely nothing.

I'd like to think my post-grad life will be different. Probably not:
Tiny Furniture

seriously? michael bay and Speed had a movie-baby.

godard. godard. godard. godard. casavetes. godard. guy and madeline on a park bench.

Secret Cinema

The internet has undoubtably reshaped our relationship to the viewing experience. Could this be an attempt to reinstate the communal viewing? Or is another fad that is reserved for a select group of people who attempt to engage in film on another level?

Secret Cinema and Immersion Experiences