Snowden: Hero or traitor?: Citizenfour

Laura Poitras's Citizenfour, her documentary account of Edward Snowden and how he unleashed the story of NSA grabbing millions of phone and email records and spying on millions of Americans without authorization, and how American officials repeatedly lied about the operation and its scope, will provoke you into asking the basic question: Is Snowden a hero or a traitor? It's a free country and we Americans have the right to speak our minds, but did he betray a trust in doing so? Though Poitras is no doubt in the hero camp, I am really torn by this - in some ways I see him as heroic (and brave in all ways, putting his life on the line for his beliefs), much like the war resisters of the Vietnam era, deciding on their own that the U.S. government was wrong and that the war was immoral and acting on their beliefs at great risk and sacrifice. But in this case - are we willing to give up our privacy for the protection against terrorism? We say we hate the government snooping, but weren't we glad at how quickly investigators nailed the Tsarnaevs? Or the London subway bombers? I guess it comes down to the checks and balances; there should have been a more clear pathway of authorization, reporting, and accountability in setting up these surveillance programs - and though I truly think the Obama admin used the information only to combat terrorism, we can only imagine the potential future uses of this kind of capability, data, and info - use against political opponents, activist movements, for 2 examples. This film is our first and maybe only look ever at Snowden the person, and it was kind of cool to see him, on film, give literally introduce himself to a small set of investigative journalists and slowly and meticulously, in his pleasantly dorkish manner, explaining the information he has and its import. On the downside, other than the Snowden interviews in a Hong Kong hotel room where he was in hiding for eight days as the story was told and revealed to the world, there isn't a lot for Poitras to actually film, so too much of the film is made up of news clips of the coverage of the unfolding story. So it's not a great documentary from a cinematic standpoint, but it does give real insight into this complex issue and at least a glimpse of the personality of the man who made it happen.

Lives of the Preps: Metropolitan

Whit Stillman's work has completely slipped by me - I seem to remember a lot of talk about him back in the '90s - but watched his 1990 debut film (written, produced, directed), Metropolitan, last night and liked it more than I thought I would, or should. It's a classic ensemble piece with about 8 actors more or less sharing the lead - reminds me of a few other films of that era such as Big Chill or Return of the Secaucus 7 or the Breakfast Club: the age cohort is roughly the same but the social milieu entirely different. These are a group of debs and preppies (though one prefers the term urban haut-bourgeoisie) on a winter break from their schools socializing in high style in Manhattan, probably set circa 1970 though Stillman is coy about the time ("not so long ago" say the credits). (The look and feel is also an obvious homage to Woody Allen's Manhattan films, though Stillman's is slightly more realistic and gritty rather than the b/w romantic glow of Allan; his retro score seems straight out of Woody Allen, however.) They're kids who on the surface are easy to dislike: privileged, cocky, prejudiced. But we also see, gradually, that they are not all of a piece, a few are pretty smart, and like any other group of friends they have their own loves, loathings, and social dynamics. Plot involves an outsider who joins the group (he's a boarding school Manhattanite as well but from the West Side - horrors - and not quite as well off, because of a divorce - he has to rent his tux - eventually he buys a used one - which by the way is very socially accurate, as I know from my boarding-school friends from college - they spent a lot less on clothing than anyone else would have thought). One striking elements is that parents are virtually nonexistant in this film, it's a world entirely of the young - who of course live the life that can live, parties every night, cabs, tips, serious drinking - thanks to parents' largesse and indifference. Over the course of the film we come more and more to like the lead "outsider," Tom, and Audrey Roget, with whom he's partnered but whom he only gradually comes to like, even love - they're both very sweet and innocent - and we begin to see that it's true of all of the cast: their tough, cynical demeanors are for show and for protection from feelings. They all have friends - but, like many boarding school kids - they really need families. Oddly, it appears that no one in this cast went on to a particularly successful acting career.

The Reign in Spain: Three sisters in Madrid

I'll say this about Carlos Saura's Cria Cuervos (1976), Cry of the Crows? - I have no idea why it's called that: I fell asleep for about 15 minutes, woke up, hadn't missed a thing. It's a slow and careful, at times tedious movie, very much in the vein of "art cinema," and yet there are some rewards in watching it carefully and with patience. The story line is good: three young girls, sisters, in Madrid, lose both their parents and are being raised by a young aunt, along with a buxom, middle-aged household servant. The focus is almost entirely on the middle sister, the doe-eyed Ana, (spoiler, sorta) who has repeated visions/fantasies of talking with and inter-acting with her mother (I didn't figure out till quite a ways in that the "mother" is seen only through her imagination). In the first sequence, Ana hears noises from her father's bedroom and comes downstairs, sees a beautiful woman (a family friend, we learn later) rush out of the house in disarray, goes into the bedroom, sees father lying dead. She calmly takes a bedside glass, rinses it out, and goes back to bed. We gradually learn that she believes (wrongly) that some powder she's mixed into the milk has killed her father - a guilty she carries w/ her, but wears lightly. The father was a high-ranking member of Franco's Army, an old Nazi-lover and a truly nasty guy, as we see in various scenes (or at least 1 scene) from Ana's recollections. Over the course of the movie we see her coming to terms with her sisters, her aunt, and her new life, working through the guilty she'd felt at her imagined poisoning of her father (and later of her aunt), and in the final sequence the three sisters head off for the first day of school (the movie seems to span the course of one summer, though there are several scenes that Ana recalls from the past, in which she "appears" as a silent witness - to a fight between her parents, for ex.,and several scenes of a more mature Ana, maybe about 25 years old?, reflecting on the events of the summer). It's a movie with high ambitions that doesn't over-reach and accomplishes its goals, including a hint at the brutality of the Franco regime - although by today's standards at least the movie proceeds at a glacial pace that may put off some viewers or put them (me) to sleep.
(Note: Just looked up title, which is translated as Raising Ravens, which may make some sense as all three of the sisters have strikingly dark hair.)

Movies about actors: The good and the bad

There are a lot of movies about actors, which does make sense as actors make movies and they're obviously interested in an knowledgeable about their own craft and profession - some more successful than others. I thought Birdman was a terrific examination showing how actors work and develop a role and how they navigate the conflicts between the roles they are playing and the lives they lead, with the many entanglements and the confusion between love (and sex) on the stage and off. It was great to see how the characters rehearsed, changed elements as they worked - and at times we couldn't be sure when they were speaking lines and when they were speaking (and of course they are characters in a movie, so always speaking lines). Another good example - though it's more about the play in rehearsal than the actors themselves: Vanya on 42nd Street. A terrible example was the recent Argentine (?) film about a production of Twelfth Night, can't remember the name but found it so tedious and repetitious I bailed out. So what about The Clouds of Sils Maria (incomprehensible title) but Olivier Assayas?: well, Juliet Binoche improves any movie she's in, but this one had a lot of room for improvement. It's about La Binoche playing a great actress in mid to late career, who rose to fame in a play some 20 years back in which she was an office assistant who essentially displaces her 40-year-old boss. Now, she's asked to play the role of the boss in a revival, which causes her to ponder her youth and her career and leads to much angst about whether she should take the role at all. There's a lot of inside-the-industry stuff which is OK although doesn't seem esp. fresh: dodging the paparazzi, the politics of presenting awards, negotiations with directors and lawyers, most of all her own relationship with her personal assistant, played v well by Kristen Stewart - who perfectly captures the voice of her cohort, fast, clipped, on several phones at once all the time, really busy but about what - just a lot of crap really. The big downfall of the movie is that the ridiculously named play under consideration seems absolutely absurd - impossible to believe that the late playwright was a world-famous genius, that it would in any way be a career-making role, that the new production would attract any attention beyond a minuscule cult, that the Lindsey Lohan-type, played well against a very confusing and inconsistent script by Chole G Moretz, would be drawn to this role in any way, and incredibly stilted dialogue whenever the characters talk about the play - they sound like characters Woody Allen would create as a joke or send-up. On the upside, some beautiful photography of rustic Alpine scenery.