Category: Cinema

What a lovely day!

There was a moment when my jaw literally dropped watching a stunt sequence that made me cringe. I was feeling the vivacious dread and adrenalin explosion of the stunt men riding down a hollow red gloomy mountain top, bikes hurling and screaming in despair.

Mad Max: Fury Road was an intense, unexpected experience. A kaleidoscopic imagery wrapped around a dystopic universe, in a strange, poetic world powered by mechanical, distorted vehicles. I watch action movies a lot, but this one must be the best in the genre, all blazing with infuriating passion, intense emotion and apologetically superb soundtrack. George Miller is 70 now and not entirely fond of the modern Hollywood cliches machine but he delivered a gradually explosive spectacle tinted in red and orange that feels so different from the current action movie norm.

The use of stunts is so refreshing and pumps life and meaning into a frenzy of car chases that populates the strange yet immersive universe created by the beautiful mind of the director. The plot is simple, yet powerful and had to be so to account for the lyricism of the story. The whole movie is an exhausted allegory drenched in gasoline and flames. The perfect villain robbed of his meaning chases through the ashes of a ruined world his due accompanied by battalions of distorted cars and screaming kamikazes, all tuned to a flame of futuristic sounds.

There is no real hero only gleaming hope that stands as a darken illusion to eat at lesser souls but in the end redemption is met with symphonic cadence. But the true power of this masterpiece is in its photographic insane motion, a colorful vertigo of screaming matter and little dialogue, a perfectly harmonious chaos dripping from the screen in incredulous symmetric pulsation.

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Whiplash

Dintre filmele nominalizate la Oscar anul asta Whiplash este un outsider. Un outsider memorabil. Povestea unui tanar student la un conservator renumit si relatia sa aspra si decisiva cu un profesor-arhetip si metodele sale subterane te loveste de la inceput prin forta cu care regizorul foloseste pasiunea pentru muzica jazz pentru a prezenta o alegorie despre suferinta maniacala a dezvoltarii.

Whiplash mi-a ramas in minte prin  cateva momente.

  1. Impreunarea maniacala a muzicii cu matematica. Muzica nu mai este doar o experienta subiectiva pentru cei din afara ci mai ales o functie complexa care nu suporta nici cele mai mici erori. Numai dupa ce spectrul erorii este hatuit undeva in planuri secunde, numai atunci profesorul Terence Fletcher inchide ochii si ascuta muzica.
  2. Whiplash dezvolta subiectul dificil al  relatiei dintre elev si profesor si care sunt indatoririle fiecaruia. Agresivitatea lui Fletcher extrage din tanarul baterist ce e mai bun cu pretul de a arata de asemenea si ce e mai rau. Cresterea abilitatilor este atat o suferinta fizica, cu carne zdrelita si degete rupte cat si una emotionala, de detasare si respingere a altor implicari emotionale. Studentul dezvolta si el la randul lui o persona agresiva, aspra in competitia cu ceilalti bateristi
  3. Profesorul este un arhetip autoritarian de care tanarul se agata pentru a compensa relatia frugala cu un tata plat, normalizat, neimplicat foarte mult in setea de succes a lui Andrew. Profesorul devine astfel un nou tata pentru ca ii hraneste ura subconstienta freudiana care pana la urma se exprima si fizic.
  4. Calea spre succes cere multa munca, repetitie si noroc. Dar in acest mix nu stii niciodata ce prevaleaza pana nu faci ceea ce tine de tine. Andrew ajunge intr-un stadiu aproape maniacal atunci cand scapat cu viata din acel accident de circulatie se repede spre baterie pentru a continua sa cante desi corpul plin de sange nu-i permitea. Finalul duce aceasta manie in acel loc in care ultimele resurse de umanitate sunt folosite de tanar pentru a impinge limitele jocului-muzica peste capacitatile constientului. Lumea din jurul lui se restrange la sunetele bateriei si mintea se topeste in automatismul maniacal.

I don’t think people understood what it was I was doing at Shaffer. I wasn’t there to conduct. Any fucking moron can wave his arms and keep people in tempo. I was there to push people beyond what’s expected of them. I believe that is… an absolute necessity. Otherwise, we’re depriving the world of the next Louis Armstrong. The next Charlie Parker. I told you about how Charlie Parker became Charlie Parker, right?

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