Article: Disaster Artistry - Living In Oblivion

Creating art is hard. With that in mind, filmmaking is perhaps one of the most complicated artistic enterprises. Crafting a motion picture is an absolute ball-busting endeavour, often fuelled by chaos, with little fanfare upon completion. At the end of every Filmcast podcast episode, host David Chen remarks that, whether you enjoyed the main review or not, at the end of the day, it’s pretty impressive that a film was made. He’s not wrong. Media creation has become more accessible, but coming up with a feature film from scratch with a full cast and crew that appeals to an audience? There are still a lot of dreamers who pretend it’s easier than it is.

The film Living in Oblivion expertly depicts the frenzied bedlam of low-budget filmmaking. Steve Buscemi plays Nick, a long-haired, wide-eyed director who seems a hair's breadth away from a full-on manic episode. Such is independent filmmaking. As the low-budget project begins to crumble around him, Nick struggles with maintaining on-set equilibrium. The production is riddled with dilemmas that could hamstring a production. Nick valiantly fights to preserve his sanity against a creative world focused on losing the plot, both literally and figuratively.

Tom DiCillo, a filmmaker who studied alongside Jim Jarmusch and Spike Lee, is the brainchild behind Living in Oblivion. While Jarmusch and Lee are household names among the dwellings of typical cinephiles, DiCillo had a quieter career. It’s not hard to see why, when DiCillo described making a film as “one of the most tedious, boring, painful experiences, and that just when something goes right.” This became the origin of Living in Oblivion, capturing the madness and anxiety of making a film. This is perhaps what makes the film so enjoyable. While many other fictional “filmmaking” movies have an air of notable smugness (are we surprised when they do so well at awards season?), Living in Oblivion captures the worst fears of making a movie, and does so with a charming, offbeat wit, smart direction and stellar performances. One must wonder if DiCillo dislikes the process because he knows how to nail it.

Living in Oblivion accurately pinpoints the calamitous pain of creating with no money. Its opening segment has two crew members debating the freshness of some milk that has been sitting outside for a week. The innocuous conversation kickstarts a series of predicaments that gradually increase in importance, while Nick tries to capture the emotional resonance of a pivotal scene. The scene in question involves an emotional conversation between mother and daughter, played by Nicole (Catherine Keener) and Cora (Rica Martens). Nick envisions one elegant long take drifting between the actors. The reality is very different. The sequence gets spoiled by various mishaps occurring around him. Lights get blown. Boom mics drop into shot. The shot itself falls out of focus. These events lead to both actresses fumbling lines that came to them so well at the beginning. Nick slowly loses his placidness with each slip-up, then suddenly, due to a small gesture of reassurance from Cora, Nicole finds the emotional crux in the scene. The crew are spellbound as the two actresses hit the scene straight out of the park…Only for everyone to realise that nothing was recorded because the cinematographer, Wolf (Dermot Mulroney), was puking his guts out in the bathroom. His illness? Caused by the week-old milk he put in his coffee. DiCillo’s film captures how easily tiny drops of misfortune swell into disastrous calamities on a no-money production.

If Nick isn't dealing with vomiting cinematographers, then he's contending with self-centred leading men. Living in Oblivion's second segment has brash lead actor Chad stumble into proceedings. The intention of Chad? To hog every bit of the limelight at the expense of everyone else. Chad is wildly obnoxious, creatively reckless, and a stunningly accurate representation of the types of creatives who litter the lower end of the humanities. The female crew adore him, but unknown to them, Chad sleeps with co-lead actress Nicole, who bluntly cools things down before they go to work. In retaliation, Chad begins to suggest a series of useless improvisation ideas to Nick. These are not only designed to diminish Nicole's on-screen presence but also inflate Chad's ego.  Quite simply, the guy is an ignorant prig, played wonderfully by James LeGros. Chad's character was assumed to be based on Brad Pitt, who DiCillo had worked with on his troubled debut Johnny Suede (1991). However, DiCillo squashed those rumours, stating an emergency junket for the film Legends of the Fall (1994) stopped Pitt from taking up the role of Chad. While it’s easy to see why people see Chad as a send-up of the future A-lister, LeGros’ performance is more of a composite of spiteful clowns who invade creative projects and make it all about themselves.

Hell is other people. And filmmaking is something that usually pulls in quite a few people for a product to exist. Living in Oblivion enjoys pointing out that while the film should be the end goal for everything, the quirks and agendas which lie in the recesses of each crew member will gladly hamper that objective. Steve Buscemi has stated that Nick is one of his favourite roles, and that’s understandable. In a career full of memorable performances, this hapless indie director is a role Buscemi shares an affinity with as a performer and director. Seen here as often bemused, bewildered or sarcastic, this is the actor at his best. He revels in a role that has him constantly frustrated by those around him. Be it Wolf’s ego and fraternising, which stops the cinematographer from framing the damn film, or Nicole’s bleakly insecure acting. The performer's anxiety is only being accelerated by the needless gossipy chirps which she hears off set. If you’ve ever tried to put on a production of any sort, none of this should surprise you. What makes the film so entertaining is how keenly observed DiCillo captures everything.  It’s funny because you’ve been there.

As a film about a production going awry, Living in Oblivion strikes a perfect tonal balance. It manages to be both laugh-out-loud funny and painfully honest about the multitude of predicaments that fall upon Nick's production. To top things off, DiCillo even wraps much of the film in dream sequences. Filtering the indie film world through the subconscious mind of those who live it is an amusing nod to the liberal use of dream logic as a crutch in movies. DiCillo uses a unique conceit on dream logic, with the film narrative fragmenting into the dreams of those who inhabit the world. Dreams are a well-used cinematic trope, and here it becomes a subversive fuel which drives each person on set in one way or another. DiCillo plays this all out Run Lola Run style. Amusingly, the final act is one of a dream sequence being shot. This segment is the movie Nick is trying to make. What came before it? Anxiety nightmares of what could have happened? Future apprehensions of what may happen? DiCillo never lets us in fully. The film that Nick is making? The audience is never given a full description. Nevertheless, Living in Oblivion understands the filmmaking process so well that it does not matter. You only need to know that the crew is so tied to what's being made that you are invested.

We don’t know how good we have it now. Filmmaking is so ubiquitous that influencers are shilling guides to how easy it is to make a film on your own, without a crew. You can bring something together in about a month and probably find an audience soon after. Living in Oblivion is a smart, witty reminder that filmmaking, at one point, is more like herding cats. Creating art is hard, and for many, filmmaking is still an endeavour for the ultra-loopy. But to paraphrase David Chen, as I did earlier, it’s pretty impressive to make a cinematic project that all comes together. It seems it’s even more satisfying when said project is about the absolute madness of filmmaking.

Living In Oblivion can currently be found on YouTube

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Article - A quick look back at Interview with a Vampire

Neil Jordan’s film Interview with a Vampire has reached 30 years old this year. A discovery I made when I decided to watch my DVD copy to overcome the near-daily paralysis by film choice. Like so many of my peers, I have to forcibly stick with an immediate film choice or else be cursed to doomscroll for the rest of the evening. So camp, beautiful, depressed vampires abound! Interview with a Vampire is one of those films I always didn’t mind watching. However, narrative fragments fall out of my head despite multiple viewings. This time, I tried to reconcile my issues with a film I enjoyed most of despite holding it at arm's length.

Based on the 1976 Anne Rice novel of the same name, Interview with a Vampire tells the angsty story of Louis (Brad Pitt), a previously widowed slave owner who chronicles his centuries-long life as a creature of the undead. From his transformation by malicious vampire Lestat (Tom Cruise) to his parental relationship with Claudia (Kirsten Dunst), a young girl who has turned into a vampire through unfortunate circumstances.

Interview with A Vampire perhaps was infamously known for Anne Rice’s anger at Cruise being picked for the role of Lestat. Her anger quickly quelled after watching the performance by Cruise. A turn that is still considered as one of his most memorable. Lestat always felt like a landmark role for Cruise. It marks the first time the actor toyed with the role of anti-hero. But it’s also significant that while the homoeroticism of Top Gun was more of a byproduct than a necessity of that film, it is baked into Interview with a Vampire in a way that can't be ignored. Being the early 90s an element of brevity can be seen in one of Hollywood's notable golden boys playing a character who is so against type. In looking at Cruise’s filmography, his most alluring performances are when he decides to go against the grain. His roles that play against or challenge his more typical masculinity are almost always more interesting than when he embraces it. Give me Eyes Wide Shut (1999), Magnolia (1999), or this over the ongoing Mission Impossible movies he’s seemingly resigned to do. Cruise’s Lestat is one of the few times he unlocks the sociopathic side. It worked so well that Rice took out a two-page spread in Variety praising his performance and admitting she was wrong.

Cruise’s brash Lestat dampers Brad Pitt’s turn as Louis formidably. The contrast is palpable and possibly stems from Pitt’s depression when working on the film. The long dark days of a six-month stint in London had got to him so badly that he asked producer David Geffen how much it would cost to get out of the movie. The price? $40 million. Pitt’s passive Louis is a cypher, with none of the visual tics that the actor became known for. Interview with a Vampire trades in on his beauty, but none of the viral sexuality or energy that made him interesting in his earlier 90s films and beyond. It’s an overly mannered performance which comes off as flat and laboured. All the industry goes to Tom.

While an unevenness between the two leads exists, Interview is still an interesting artefact in that the homoeroticism still simmers under the lid. To see these now Hollywood heavyweights play out petty, catty arguments with each other like a middle-aged couple feels radical. As does the unconventional family unit between two male vampires and Claudia (a fantastically firey Kirsten Dunst), the child sired almost out of pity by Lestat. And we must remember Antonio Banderas, an Almodóvar fave, turning up in the latter stages. The film has more than a little queer credential. Allegedly Anne Rice’s fear of Hollywood’s homophobia was so great that at one point, she turned in a rewritten version of the film with a female Louis, with Cher in consideration for the role. By sticking to their guns Neil Jordan creates a far more engaging piece. It’s something you didn’t see a ton of in the 90s: a highly budgeted, queer horror film with Hollywood A-Listers. The only thing that comes close is perhaps one of Jordan’s influences on the film: Francis Ford Coppola’s Dracula (1992) which came two years before it. Although Coppola’s film outdoes Interview for out and out horniness.

Were the dark, gothic Vampires the perfect creatures for the cynical 90s era? Interview with a Vampire and Dracula suggest this. Both films were not only large in scale, and rich in detail. They were also big on existential malaise and deep-seated longing. In Interview, this is perhaps best exhibited in the unfortunate character of Claudia. Growing older in mind, but never in physicality, Claudia is possibly the saddest string in Interview’s bow. Along with the idea that vampires must keep in touch with the world as it changes and evolves. A latter scene involving Lestat alludes to a feeling of immortal senility as it is shown that he has not kept up with the changing times of the world.

It's perhaps fitting that Interview with a Vampire also feels trapped in a cocoon of its era despite its then-progressive handling of sexuality. In the latter half of the decade, Bloodsuckers had somewhat shed the angst brought on by Coppola and Jordan. Instead, vampire films began to get their bite back. With films which seemed more in tune with the grubby grit of Kathryn Bigalow’s Near Dark (1987) or even Joel Schumacher’s The Lost Boys (1987).  People seemed less interested in seeing vampires as mopey sad bois on film. The latter section of the 90s gave us From Dusk Till Dawn (1996), Vampires (1998) and Blade (1998). Although the Buffy the Vampire Slayer TV series (1997) managed to keep brooding, gothic guys alive until Twilight (2009). That said, even creator Joss Wheadon had an innate desire to subvert elements of the gothic vampire tropes when looking back at his first attempt at the Buffy universe as a feature film.

The edgy vamps of the latter end of the decade illustrate one of Interview's weaknesses. After a while, these haunted sad sacks stop being engaging. Looking back at the film during this rewatch, I found the inner turmoil of Louis rather bland. Cruise’s Lestat, the driving force behind all the most entertaining aspects of the film, goes missing for most of the film's second half. While the film’s narrative dissipates once the action moves to Paris. The introduction of Antonio Banderas and Stephen Rea should be a boon for the story. Both actors put in decent turns. But the problem is that Louis remains uniquely unsympathetic throughout. It’s easy to feel like Lestat; infuriated with Louis's supposed “goodness” despite there being very little to him. One suspects the novel's success lies in how Rice rounds out the character. If any book fans stumble on this piece, let me know.

And it’s with this that I realised my issue with Interview with a Vampire. Despite the lavish detail and exciting, over-the-top performances from Cruise, Rea and Banderas, Louis is just a dull interviewee. Even with everything being told to an excited Christian Slater. In addition to the later stages' lack of narrative propulsion, Pitt's central performance highlights the trouble I now find with this gothic drama. But I can never be too harsh on it. Looking back on its release 30 years ago, what I also see is the kind of gateway drug to overblown, gothic horror that is always warmly welcomed by myself. Despite my issues with the material. Which is why I probably still own the DVD.    

(4

Review: The Curious Case of Benjamin Button

Year: 2008
Director: David Fincher
Screenplay: Eric Roth, Robin Swicord
Starring: Brad Pitt, Cate Blanchett

To say I was disappointed by this movie would be a bit of an understatement. Technical prowess aside, I haven't been so detached from a movie in such a long time. Superlatives have been thrown about the film and the Oscars have been extremely kind to the movie (13 nominations) but I found myself asking: "is this it?" The rushed ending, the dubious storytelling, the plodding pace, the overall coldness of the movie...am I the only one who felt these things?

Maybe I expected too much. I am a big David Fincher fan and Fight Club is one of my all time favorite movies. I could not wait to see what he would do with the material. Based on a short story by F Scott Fitzgerald, Fincher, Roth and Swicord nick the the gimmick of the story (a man aging backwards) and put a melodramatic spin on the tale turning it into the closest thing to a Rom-com Fincher will probably ever put out.

I don't want to go into the similarities of this film and Forrest Grump because it's very obvious to those who have seen more than the odd casual movie. In fact talking about the comparison to me is a waste of space because so many people have spotted it already. I will say this though...Gump's story is more efficient and more entertaining while less indulgent.

Once I got past the brilliant effects that the filmmakers have placed within the movie, BB left me cold. One of the main reasons is Brad Pitt portrayal of Button himself. Benjamin appears to us as an empty vessel. When an old man, he doesn't display the childlike wonder he should have, when he gets younger Pitt doesn't infuse the young with sage like wisdom. Pitt stays it straight all the way though. I love Pitt in many movies even though many people I know don't. He's embodied roles so much that to me he IS Tyler Durden, he IS Jeffrey Goines and he IS Rusty Ryan. Here however Pitt is too plain, too flat and just generally not that compelling to watch.

Because of this the main relationship suffers as Blancett plays the love interest Daisy with a great amount of energy. But while Blancett plays the role well, the character itself isn't a pleasant one, in fact the entire relationship the film is based on appears to me as awkward and cumbersome due to the fact that the two characters don't really gel. In fact the time where the two spend the most with each other is shown to us as a montage and for the most part their lingering looks before and after said montage just don't do it for me. This is because Fincher would rather pad the film out with secondary characters who are only around to ram home the films moral message: We as humans are lucky to be alive and we should live life to it's fullest. Not a bad message, however after three hours of constantly remind us ad nausem...you get tired of it.

The storytelling just isn't Fincher's best. As a director not known for his short films Fincher goes overboard with this tale. Emotional moments are drowned out by scenes that could easily have been edited out, and we spend far too much time going back to our storytellers in 2005 than we need to. To add to this the film makes mistakes that a you wouldn't expect it to make. If a character is narrating a story and we're hearing it from their perspective, why do we hear this person narrate things that he would have no chance of seeing, hearing or knowing? One of the pivotal plot points relies on Benjamin telling of something he'd have no idea of. We get the idea, but it's not good storytelling. As for the film climax...I can't even remember it if I told you. I do remember it comes quickly (quicker than the rest of the film) and left me saying..it's that it?

But it's not all bad. Like I stated there lies some gentile moments that bring a smile to my face and some of the films insights on our own mortality are interesting enough. The film is technically superb and beautifully shot (it is Finicher ever all) and the score is wonderful. But for me it's to no avail. if Fincher streamlined the story and placed more focus on the relationship and given that more warmth I could see myself watching this movie again. However due to the reasons I've placed above, I can't see myself buying the DVD and growing old with it.