Peppers!

So after our exciting cinematic experience last Friday, the cinetrix and I tried to top it with multiple films Saturday. We started by heading across town to hastily duck into Paprika right as it was getting started. I was still pretty cashed out from the previous night so I couldn't really follow the film that well. Well, that and IT MADE NO FUCKING SENSE.

Actually, the basic story isn't that hard to follow, it's just one of those films where you're not really sure if what you're seeing is real or even supposed to be, and that's part of the draw. (I've never been huge into fantasy. I'm the guy who didn't like Pan's Labyrinth...)

I'm not normally one for anime anyway, but I have enjoyed some of Miyazaki, so I figured I'd give it a shot. The film was absolutely gorgeous and if I wasn't trying to avoid film theory like the plague right now, I'd go into the sequence wherein one character "rapes" the Paprika character by shoving his hand into her crotch (through clothes, of course, as well as flesh/body/being/psyche?) and then rips her outer being off. (Don't mean to be a spoiler, but it can be seen here.) It was a hugely sexualized film, but, for the most part, in the way older noir films generally are. I did enjoy the whole self-referential vibe Satoshi Kon was throwing our way. I still can't stress enough how gorgeous it was. Honestly, the music was so amazing and visuals so lush that I probably should've changed my shorts afterwards.

All in all, I'd like to revisit the film and just enjoy myself rather than wondering what the fuck is going on the entire time.

Plus, Atsuko is one two-dimensional chick I could get down with in the biblical sense, if you follow. Seriously, if cartoon babes looked like this when I was coming along (other than April O'Neil, of course), adolescence would've been a much different (possibly more awkard?) formative experience for me. I think she was intelligent also, or something...

indie this, indie that

One would have to be of unsound mind to take a few days off work and make a 15-hour drive in one day just to see a film, right?

Of course. But I decided to do it anyway. I was already going to be in Vermont, so when I read that one of my heroes, Ray Carney, was curating Independents Week at the Harvard Film Archive , I realized I'd be remiss not to go and would hate myself for the rest of my life. Luckily, the Cinetrix was all about catching some flicks and knows Boston/Cambridge like the back of her hand.

So last Thursday we rolled into town to catch some wicked awesome films. But not until venturing into Whole Foods for some salad mix (not premixed, of course). And not just any Whole Foods. I recognized it as soon as I pulled into the parking lot as the Whole Foods used in Mike Gibisser's Finally, Lillian and Dan, which just happened to be screening Friday as part of Independents Week. I had received a screener of the film 3 months before and had just seen it the second time (and fallen in love with it) about 3 weeks ago. We were unsure whether or not we'd go since I had just viewed the film...again. I think the Cinetrix wanted to go, because she sneakily led me into the 1369 Coffee House in Inman Square, the interior of which I immediately recognized from the film as well. (While there I also got what was probably the best chocolate chip cookie and fresh squeezed lemonade I've ever had.) While waiting in line, we saw a poster for the film, and that clinched it. (I would later find out that Gibisser was in 1369 at the time and had seen us looking at the poster and got excited about the prospect of 2 more viewers.) I was excited to see the film on the big screen, and even more excited when my partner in crime enjoyed the film as well. But what blew my mind was walking through the doors of the theater and recognizing Ray Carney immediately. I nearly pissed my pants, as I've been reading his website almost daily to get me through the tedium that is a desk job.

But back to the film. Finally, Lillian and Dan is a brilliant meditation on (sorry, Film Snob) the awkward beginnings of a relationship between two lonely souls. The film is an exercise in minimalism, in terms of plot, dialogue, etc. Gibisser consciously avoids any sort of spoon-feeding viewers may be used to from traditional films and leaves plenty open to interpretation. Long periods of silence with Lillian and Dan seen speaking fill the gaps between the long periods of silence when they are not speaking. Dan is one of the most endearing characters ever on film and his counterpart Lillian has this amazingly expressive face. They say so much by not saying anything at all. Everything is in their movements and postures. Body language is key. And the dance sequences (yes, dance sequences) are quite beautiful without feeling forced. They fit into the natural flow of the film, and Gibisser's actual grandmother does an amazing job cutting a rug. I'm not really sure what else to say about the film other than see it if you possibly get the chance.

I was lucky enough to meet Mike Gibisser after the screening, and I have to say he's a stand-up guy. I approached him to tell him how much I had enjoyed the film. I felt bad for not having emailed him in the 3 months I'd had a copy of the screener...
We talked about films, both mine and his, for a few minutes and I stood by as his (many?) fans greeted him on the way out. Then Mr. Carney walked by. I couldn't resist the urge to tap him on the shoulder and introduce myself. He was on his way out but took the time to talk a few minutes about his Cassavetes on Cassavetes book that I had taken along with me to read during my trip. It was almost more excitement than I could handle in one night.

So we went back for seconds Saturday...