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I Was Looking For a Friend of Mine
Nov. 21st, 2009 10:05 amControl (2007), Anton Corbijn. Nov 20, 9:15pm. View count: One.
I haven't quite been able to figure out exactly what was wrong with this movie. My best stab at it is that its british detachment went too far into the "impenetrable" side of things, making everyone's emotions (apart from obvious surface ones) impossible to ascertain. I felt throughout as if I were waiting for people's characters to fill out, but they never really seemed to.
Supposedly this was based on a book by Curtis' wife, which could explain the second-degree opaqueness of it all. It had a distinct outside-looking-in quality, which didn't do much for understanding of the protagonist.
Structurally I suppose I'd say that we didn't get to see enough of the grinding day-to-dayness of things; when we were shown difficult situations they tended to be the first we'd really heard of that, or a light-touch callback to a previous event. Weirdly, the simple trope of showing the protagonist walking around aimlessly, fitting poorly in an uncaring world -- that would have been highly appropriate and would have allowed for some "loneliness" time.
Of course, the soundtrack was wonderful, and Anton Corbijn knows his way around a lighting setup. I think the two things that charmed me the most were the situational soundtrack choices and the grey gobbets of food that people ate towards the end. But I simultaneously approved of and was a little leery of the 'clever' soundtrack moments; it's not up to Wes Anderson territory, but, still, putting "No Love Lost" up against the word "HATE" written across the protagonist's jacket? A little cutesy. (It's also true that that particular sequence struck me as a misstep -- defiant punky clothing graffiti hardly looks like the work of a guy who's totally losing it.)
I think that this movie would have done well to note the maxim about making every shot develop character or advance the action. Or indeed to refine the action and character arcs in advance, before trying to portray them.
I haven't quite been able to figure out exactly what was wrong with this movie. My best stab at it is that its british detachment went too far into the "impenetrable" side of things, making everyone's emotions (apart from obvious surface ones) impossible to ascertain. I felt throughout as if I were waiting for people's characters to fill out, but they never really seemed to.
Supposedly this was based on a book by Curtis' wife, which could explain the second-degree opaqueness of it all. It had a distinct outside-looking-in quality, which didn't do much for understanding of the protagonist.
Structurally I suppose I'd say that we didn't get to see enough of the grinding day-to-dayness of things; when we were shown difficult situations they tended to be the first we'd really heard of that, or a light-touch callback to a previous event. Weirdly, the simple trope of showing the protagonist walking around aimlessly, fitting poorly in an uncaring world -- that would have been highly appropriate and would have allowed for some "loneliness" time.
Of course, the soundtrack was wonderful, and Anton Corbijn knows his way around a lighting setup. I think the two things that charmed me the most were the situational soundtrack choices and the grey gobbets of food that people ate towards the end. But I simultaneously approved of and was a little leery of the 'clever' soundtrack moments; it's not up to Wes Anderson territory, but, still, putting "No Love Lost" up against the word "HATE" written across the protagonist's jacket? A little cutesy. (It's also true that that particular sequence struck me as a misstep -- defiant punky clothing graffiti hardly looks like the work of a guy who's totally losing it.)
I think that this movie would have done well to note the maxim about making every shot develop character or advance the action. Or indeed to refine the action and character arcs in advance, before trying to portray them.
