Monster review – multifaceted mystery from Hirokazu Kore-eda | Thrillers

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A frazzled widowed mother, Saori (Sakura Andô), suspects that all is not well with her preteen son, Minato (Soya Kurokawa). The boy seems subdued and withdrawn; she catches him hacking inches from his mop of hair. He asks odd, troubling questions: if the brain of a pig was transplanted into a human, what would the resulting creature be, human or pig? Or some kind of monster? And then there are the injuries – an ear yanked so brutally that it bleeds; a livid facial bruise. Saori soon deduces that her son’s new teacher, Michitoshi Hori (Eita Nagayama), at his provincial Japanese elementary school, is responsible for her son’s brooding disquiet. She confronts the school principal (a confounding reflecting prism of a performance from veteran actor Yūko Tanaka), but is frustrated by the school’s response: a suffocating blanket of meaningless apologies designed to stifle her complaints. Saori is understandably angry: her son, after all, is the victim of a cruel teacher.

Or is he? The latest film from Hirokazu Kore-eda (Shoplifters), and the first since 1995’s Maborosi that he didn’t also write or co-write (the screenplay is by Yūji Sakamoto), rewinds to the beginning of the story – a burning building is a marker point – and replays key scenes, fleshing out the tale, this time from the perspective of the well-meaning teacher. Hori feels, perhaps fairly, that he is being thrown to the wolves by the school authorities (“What actually happened does not matter,” says the chillingly dispassionate headteacher). His view of the classroom dynamic is that Minato is a bully who has systematically targeted a smaller, weirder child, Yori (Hinata Hiiragi), the social outcast of his class.

But then we rewind again, and the story plays out from the point of view of the two boys, showing the fragile new growth of a tentative friendship and the beginning of an understanding of deeper feelings for each other. The kind of feelings that Yori’s drunken, boorish father already suspects in his sensitive son, and is prepared to beat out of him.

It’s a difficult thing to pull off without it feeling a little disingenuous. This structure – the Rashomon technique of offering different perspectives on a single story, with each new angle subtly shifting the audience’s view – is by its nature manipulative. It only works when we, the viewers, accept that the film-maker is deliberately misleading us through selective omission and unreliable witness accounts; when we agree to be led astray and then guided toward some kind of truth and resolution.

Monster is an interesting case. Aided by a delicate, crystalline score by the late Ryuichi Sakamoto, Kore-eda deftly carries us through the shifting perspectives of the story with an ease born of extensive practice – the director of films such as Broker and Our Little Sister is no stranger to elegantly handled emotional manipulation, after all. There are a few too many red herrings, and some nagging questions. Why, for example, if the teacher suspected that Yori was being bullied by Minato, did he somehow fail to notice the campaign of terror being run by the other little shits in the class?

But when it comes to the payoff, that satisfying clincher that ties everything together, we are confronted with not one but two starkly contrasting readings of the ultimate “truth” at the end, one optimistic of a new start, the other involving the deaths of several characters. After the first viewing I veered emphatically towards the bleaker option. A rewatch opened up the possibility that the more hopeful take was the correct one. For what it’s worth, Kore-eda said after the film’s Cannes premiere that the cast and crew opted for the positive reading of events, but he conceded that the tragic interpretation was equally valid.

Does it matter that there is such ambiguity about the film’s ending? Perhaps not as much as you might expect, although there’s a sense that Monster pulls its punches throughout, forever stopping short of making a bold statement. The decision to focus on the relationship between pre-adolescents rather than older children is a key example – the film hints at questions of sexuality but neatly sidesteps actual sex. Ultimately, the question of what actually happened is just another red herring. The real point of the film is its heartfelt, if slightly trite, message: that it’s the wider world that needs to adapt and accept the differences of children like Minato and Yori, rather than the other way around.

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In These CGI-Heavy Movies, There’s Not an Explosion in Sight

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For a comedy set piece, different lines can be stitched together digitally to make sure the film keeps the funniest material from each take. “One guy’s line might be funny, but the other guy’s response isn’t,” Grasmere said. “If they touch each other during the shot, we might have to rebuild a hand, or an entire arm. Or we’ll repaint the background from one shot, blend two faces from two other moments, or superimpose something into the foreground to match two different performances together. There are a million ways to make it work.”

A lot of invisible effects work concentrates on faces. Artists can do replacements on body doubles, either for nude scenes or dangerous stunts. More commonly, there’s extensive cosmetic work performed on actors — removing wrinkles, smoothing out blemishes or otherwise correcting imperfections to make actors look their best. This kind of work is usually referred to as “visual makeup” or vanity VFX, and it’s becoming so common that many top stars have this work written into their contracts.

“Cosmetic VFX work is often super complex, but because we have to sign nondisclosure agreements, we can rarely talk about or advertise that work,” said Martin Pelletier, a VFX supervisor with Rodeo. “You might do a sequel where an actor returns to a role and has put on a humongous amount of weight, and we have to come in and fix it. Or someone has a triple chin, and we have to make him or her look nice and thin.”

“It can be a sensitive question,” Pelletier added. “We once had an actress who didn’t want to look overweight in a scene surrounded by a bunch of people. We had to shave off about 80 pounds.”

One of the most common invisible effects is what’s known as “retiming.” If a director feels that a shot or a scene is running too short or too long, it can be sped up or slowed down by either removing frames or adding them. This can create visual artifacts or a kind of unnatural distortion, or cause the shot to look “jittery” and “steppy.” Visual effects artists make imperceptible adjustments “so that it all moves smoothly,” Weintraub said. “It gets tricky, and it’s a subliminal thing.”

All of this affords filmmakers a level of control over continuity that borders on perfectionism. “Maybe there’s a spot on somebody’s face in one shot, or someone’s hair was slightly off and we have to go in and replace it,” Groves said. “On the one hand, it’s like, who cares? No one will notice. But at the end of the day, it’s these little things that can make a film just that much better.”

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Ed Begley Jr. and Daughter Hayden Took the LA Metro to the Oscars

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Ed Begley Jr. could be described as Hollywood royalty: The actor is a son of another actor, Ed Begley, who won a best supporting actor Oscar in 1963.

But the younger Mr. Begley, a longtime member of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, the organization behind the Oscars, commuted to this year’s ceremony like a plebeian by taking the Los Angeles Metro. His trip was filmed by his daughter Hayden Begley, who later shared the video on TikTok, where it has since received more than six million views.

The video opens with Ms. Begley, 24, asking her mother, Rachelle Carson, Mr. Begley’s wife and Oscars guest, how she is getting to the ceremony. “I’m driving,” Ms. Carson says, before asking, “And you’re what?” Off camera Ms. Begley replies, “Taking the subway.” Ms. Carson, who is wearing a black lacy gown, mutters, “Oh God, whatever,” as she waves her arms in exasperation.

Ms. Begley, who in a voice-over explains that she isn’t attending the ceremony with her father, then films his journey to the event on a 240 bus and the B line subway.

As Mr. Begley, 74, who has spent much of his career promoting environmentalism, talks to the camera about his fondness for public transit while riding the bus, he shows off two pins on the lapel of his dark suit jacket. One pin was shaped like an Oscar statuette and came from the Academy, where he served on the board of governors for 15 years. He said that the other pin, which had a capital M, was his “Metro pin for being a rider since 1962.”

Later in the video, Ms. Begley films her father’s full look, which includes a pair of black Nike sneakers with chunky white soles. “Thank God there are people like my dad who don’t mind wearing running shoes on a red carpet,” she says in a voice-over.

Mr. Begley, in an interview with The New York Times, said he bought the shoes for walking and that his wife had helped him pick them out. He bought the Cesarani suit he wore to the Oscars on the set of a production he was involved in decades ago. Wardrobe items are tailored to fit actors and then sometimes sold to them at a discount, he explained.

“I’m not a slave to fashion as you probably noticed,” said Mr. Begley, who recently published a memoir about his relationship with his father, who died in 1970, and his life and career in Hollywood.

Door to door, the trip from the Begleys’ home in Los Angeles to the Dolby Theater took an hour, partly because subway station closures resulted in about a half-mile of walking — and also because Mr. Begley spent time posing for pictures with fans and fellow commuters, his daughter said in an interview with The Times.

Ms. Begley, an actor, also works for the Los Angeles County Metropolitan Transportation Authority, a job she started during the recent actors’ union strike. But she was not filming her father’s commute on behalf of the agency; she shared the video from her personal TikTok account.

Taking public transportation to the Oscars has become a sort of tradition for Mr. Begley and his daughter. They used it to get to the event in 2023, a trip she also filmed and shared on social media, as well as to others in prior years. A few days before the first ceremony they attended, Mr. Begley said, he walked into his daughter’s room and asked her if she wanted to make a statement. When she said that she did, he told her, “OK, we’re going to take the subway to the Oscars.”

Over the years, Mr. Begley’s commutes to the awards show have also involved bicycles and electric vehicles, like a Bradley car he and his friend Annette Bening took to the ceremony in 1991. “As a woman in a dress,” he said, “you’ve got to be a yoga master to get out of the car in a dignified manner.”

Bicycles and public transit, he added, are some of his favorite cost-effective and environmentally friendly ways to get around.

“I never feel that I’m wasting my time taking the bus or the subway somewhere because I bring my script with me or do Jumble or Wordle,” Mr. Begley said. “I do the L.A. Times and New York Times Crossword every day.”

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Janey review – behind-the-scenes doc shows standup at her hilarious and heartfelt best | Movies

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Here’s a documentary following the Glaswegian standup comic Janey Godley on her Not Dead Yet Tour; in 2022, Godley was diagnosed with stage 3 ovarian cancer, and she does the first gig in Inverness a day after chemotherapy. And God, is she funny, with jokes running the gamut from the disgraced peer Michelle Mone living in a static caravan to cancer. Her daughter, Ashley Storrie, also hilarious, does the warm up.

The title of the film is just Janey; no surname necessary – not in Scotland anyway, where Godley has a special place in people’s hearts. During Covid her voiceovers of first minister Nicola Sturgeon’s press conferences went viral (I remember watching one feeling almost guilty for laughing so hard). Before that, in 2018, she hit the headlines protesting outside Donald Trump’s golf course with a “Trump is Cunt” placard. Fans will not be surprised to learn the film has an 18 certificate for “very strong language”.

Godley grew up in the East End of Glasgow in the 60s, covered in “nits and fleas” and left school with no qualifications. In 1982, when she was 21, her mum drowned in the Clyde; murdered, the family believes, by her violent partner. By then, Godley was already married and running a pub – what she didn’t know was her husband’s family ran a gang. In her routine, she tells the stories, hilarious and heartfelt, never sentimental. As an adult she reported her uncle to police for sexually abusing her when she was a child; he was convicted.

Director John Archer takes us behind the scenes of the tour. Godley talks about being cancelled after offensive tweets she wrote in 2010 came to light. She discusses dying with daughter Ashley and her friend Shirley, who is on tour and brings the cheese sandwiches to chemo. Even in a hospital bed hooked up to drips, Godley is laugh a minute. She had a dream about David Cameron last night she tells the nurse and Shirley. “I’d rather be dreaming about an Alsatian dog shagging me, to be honest.”

Janey is in cinemas from 15 March.

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Oscars 2024: The Complete Winners List

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After a whirlwind of red carpets, ceremonies and speeches, the 2024 awards season reached its climax at the 96th Academy Awards on Sunday.

Hosted by the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences in Hollywood, this year’s Oscars featured an impressive ― and eclectic ― cast of contenders.

Director Christopher Nolan’s Cold War biopic “Oppenheimer” picked up seven awards, including Best Picture, and Best Actor for Cillian Murphy.

Emma Stone was overwhelmed while accepting the Best Actress Oscar.

PATRICK T. FALLON via Getty Images

Yorgos Lanthimos’ Victorian steampunk escapade “Poor Things” won four trophies, surprising the audience with a Best Actress win for star Emma Stone.

The chilling World War II drama “The Zone of Interest” earned two Oscars, for Best International Film and Best Sound.

While it was the blockbuster of the summer, “Barbie” left the evening with just one award: Best Original Song for the Billie Eilish ballad “What Was I Made For?”

See all tonight’s Oscar winners below.

Cillian Murphy celebrates his Best Actor win at the 2024 Academy Awards.
Cillian Murphy celebrates his Best Actor win at the 2024 Academy Awards.

PATRICK T. FALLON via Getty Images

Actor in a Supporting Role

Sterling K. Brown (“American Fiction”)

Robert De Niro (“Killers of the Flower Moon”)

Robert Downey Jr. (“Oppenheimer”) ― WINNER

Ryan Gosling (“Barbie”)

Mark Ruffalo (“Poor Things”)

Actress in a Supporting Role

Emily Blunt (“Oppenheimer”)

Danielle Brooks (“The Color Purple”)

America Ferrera (“Barbie”)

Jodie Foster (“Nyad”)

Da’Vine Joy Randolph (“The Holdovers”) ― WINNER

Animated Short Film

“Letter to a Pig” (Tal Kantor and Amit R. Gicelter)

“Ninety-Five Senses” (Jerusha Hess and Jared Hess)

“Our Uniform” (Yegane Moghaddam)

“Pachyderme” (Stéphanie Clément and Marc Rius)

“WAR IS OVER! Inspired by the Music of John & Yoko” (Dave Mullins and Brad Booker) ― WINNER

Costume Design

“Barbie” (Jacqueline Durran)

“Killers of the Flower Moon” (Jacqueline West)

“Napoleon” (Janty Yates and Dave Crossman)

“Oppenheimer” (Ellen Mirojnick)

“Poor Things” (Holly Waddington) ― WINNER

Live Action Short Film

“The After” (Misan Harriman and Nicky Bentham)

“Invincible” (Vincent René-Lortie and Samuel Caron)

“Knight of Fortune” (Lasse Lyskjær Noer and Christian Norlyk)

“Red, White and Blue” (Nazrin Choudhury and Sara McFarlane)

“The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar” (Wes Anderson and Steven Rales) ― WINNER

Makeup and Hairstyling

“Golda” (Karen Hartley Thomas, Suzi Battersby and Ashra Kelly-Blue)

“Maestro” (Kazu Hiro, Kay Georgiou and Lori McCoy-Bell)

“Oppenheimer” (Luisa Abel)

“Poor Things” (Nadia Stacey, Mark Coulier and Josh Weston) ― WINNER

“Society of the Snow” (Ana López-Puigcerver, David Martí and Montse Ribé)

Writing (Adapted Screenplay)

“American Fiction” (Written for the screen by Cord Jefferson) ― WINNER

“Barbie” (Written by Greta Gerwig and Noah Baumbach)

“Oppenheimer” (Written for the screen by Christopher Nolan)

“Poor Things” (Screenplay by Tony McNamara)

“The Zone of Interest” (Written by Jonathan Glazer)

Writing (Original Screenplay)

“Anatomy of a Fall” (Screenplay by Justine Triet and Arthur Harari) ― WINNER

“The Holdovers” (Written by David Hemingson)

“Maestro” (Written by Bradley Cooper and Josh Singer)

“May December” (Screenplay by Samy Burch, story by Burch and Alex Mechanik)

“Past Lives” (Written by Celine Song)

Music (Original Score)

“American Fiction” (Laura Karpman)

“Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny” (John Williams)

“Killers of the Flower Moon” (Robbie Robertson)

“Oppenheimer” (Ludwig Göransson) ― WINNER

“Poor Things” (Jerskin Fendrix)

Actor in a Leading Role

Bradley Cooper (“Maestro”)

Colman Domingo (“Rustin”)

Paul Giamatti (“The Holdovers”)

Cillian Murphy (“Oppenheimer”) ― WINNER

Jeffrey Wright (“American Fiction”)

Actress in a Leading Role

Anette Benning (“Nyad”)

Lily Gladstone (“Killers of the Flower Moon”)

Sandra Hüller (“Anatomy of a Fall”)

Carey Mulligan (“Maestro”)

Emma Stone (“Poor Things”) ― WINNER

Animated Feature Film

“The Boy and the Heron” (Hayao Miyazaki and Toshio Suzuki) ― WINNER

“Elemental” (Peter Sohn and Denise Ream)

“Nimona” (Nick Bruno, Troy Quane, Karen Ryan and Julie Zackary)

“Robot Dreams” (Pablo Berger, Ibon Cormenzana, Ignasi Estapé and Sandra Tapia Díaz)

“Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse” (Kemp Powers, Justin K. Thompson, Phil Lord, Christopher Miller and Amy Pascal)

Cinematography

“El Conde” (Edward Lachman)

“Killers of the Flower Moon” (Rodrigo Prieto)

“Maestro” (Matthew Libatique)

“Oppenheimer” (Hoyte van Hoytema) ― WINNER

“Poor Things” (Robbie Ryan)

Director

Justine Triet (“Anatomy of a Fall”)

Martin Scorsese (“Killers of the Flower Moon”)

Christopher Nolan (“Oppenheimer”) ― WINNER

Yorgos Lanthimos (“Poor Things”)

Jonathan Glazer (“The Zone of Interest”)

Documentary Feature Film

“Bobi Wine: The People’s President” (Moses Bwayo, Christopher Sharp and John Battsek)

“The Eternal Memory” (Nominees to be determined)

“Four Daughters” (Kaouther Ben Hania and Nadim Cheikhrouha)

“To Kill a Tiger” (Nisha Pahuja, Cornelia Principe and David Oppenheim)

“20 Days in Mariupol” (Mstyslav Chernov, Michelle Mizner and Raney Aronson-Rath) ― WINNER

Documentary Short Film

“The ABCs of Book Banning” (Sheila Nevins and Trish Adlesic)

“The Barber of Little Rock” (John Hoffman and Christine Turner)

“Island in Between” (S. Leo Chiang and Jean Tsien)

“The Last Repair Shop” (Ben Proudfoot and Kris Bowers) ― WINNER

“Nǎi Nai & Wài Pó” (Sean Wang and Sam Davis)

Film Editing

“Anatomy of a Fall” (Laurent Sénéchal)

“The Holdovers” (Kevin Tent)

“Killers of the Flower Moon” (Thelma Schoonmaker)

“Oppenheimer” (Jennifer Lame) ― WINNER

“Poor Things” (Yorgos Mavropsaridis)

International Feature Film

“Io Capitano” (Italy)

“Perfect Days” (Japan)

“Society of the Snow” (Spain)

“The Teachers’ Lounge” (Germany)

“The Zone of Interest” (United Kingdom) ― WINNER

Music (Original Song)

“The Fire Inside” from “Flamin’ Hot” (Music and lyrics by Diane Warren)

“I’m Just Ken” from “Barbie” (Music and lyrics by Mark Ronson and Andrew Wyatt)

“It Never Went Away” from “American Symphony” (Music and lyrics by Jon Batiste and Dan Wilson)

“Wahzhazhe (A Song For My People)” from “Killers of the Flower Moon” (Music and lyrics by Scott George)

“What Was I Made For?” from “Barbie” (Music and lyrics by Billie Eilish and Finneas O’Connell) ― WINNER

Best Picture

“American Fiction” (Ben LeClair, Nikos Karamigios, Cord Jefferson and Jermaine Johnson, producers)

“Anatomy of a Fall” (Marie-Ange Luciani and David Thion, producers)

“Barbie” (David Heyman, Margot Robbie, Tom Ackerley and Robbie Brenner, producers)

“The Holdovers” (Mark Johnson, producer)

“Killers of the Flower Moon” (Dan Friedkin, Bradley Thomas, Martin Scorsese and Daniel Lupi, producers)

“Maestro” (Bradley Cooper, Steven Spielberg, Fred Berner, Amy Durning and Kristie Macosko Krieger, producers)

“Oppenheimer” (Emma Thomas, Charles Roven and Christopher Nolan, producers) ― WINNER

“Past Lives” (David Hinojosa, Christine Vachon and Pamela Koffler, producers)

“Poor Things” (Ed Guiney, Andrew Lowe, Yorgos Lanthimos and Emma Stone, producers)

“The Zone of Interest” (James Wilson, producer)

Production Design

“Barbie” (Production design: Sarah Greenwood; set decoration: Katie Spencer)

“Killers of the Flower Moon” (Production design: Jack Fisk; set decoration: Adam Willis)

“Napoleon” (Production design: Arthur Max; set decoration: Elli Griff)

“Oppenheimer” (Production design: Ruth De Jong; set decoration: Claire Kaufman)

“Poor Things” (Production design: James Price and Shona Heath; set secoration: Zsuzsa Mihalek) ― WINNER

Sound

“The Creator” (Ian Voigt, Erik Aadahl, Ethan Van der Ryn, Tom Ozanich and Dean Zupancic)

“Maestro” (Steven A. Morrow, Richard King, Jason Ruder, Tom Ozanich and Dean Zupancic)

“Mission: Impossible — Dead Reckoning Part One” (Chris Munro, James H. Mather, Chris Burdon and Mark Taylor)

“Oppenheimer” (Willie Burton, Richard King, Gary A. Rizzo and Kevin O’Connell)

“The Zone of Interest” (Tarn Willers and Johnnie Burn) ― WINNER

Visual Effects

“The Creator” (Jay Cooper, Ian Comley, Andrew Roberts and Neil Corbould)

“Godzilla Minus One” (Takashi Yamazaki, Kiyoko Shibuya, Masaki Takahashi and Tatsuji Nojima) ― WINNER

“Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3” (Stephane Ceretti, Alexis Wajsbrot, Guy Williams and Theo Bialek)

“Mission: Impossible — Dead Reckoning Part One” (Alex Wuttke, Simone Coco, Jeff Sutherland and Neil Corbould)

“Napoleon” (Charley Henley, Luc-Ewen Martin-Fenouillet, Simone Coco and Neil Corbould)

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An Oscar-Winning Concert Documentary That Speaks Volumes About America

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The best documentary award became part of the Oscars in 1942, and the list of winners is genuinely fascinating. In the category’s early years, the State Department and various branches of the U.S. military were routinely nominated, and even won. As time wore on, films critical of the government and its policies — whether the focus was labor, nuclear war or the surveillance state — were more likely to take home the prize. At the Oscars, the documentary category might tell us more about America than any other.

One of my favorite winners is from 1970: Michael Wadleigh’s “Woodstock” (for rent on major platforms). It ran more than three hours when it was first shown; a 1994 director’s cut stretched to nearly four. The film is a document of the seminal 1969 music festival near Woodstock, N.Y., which has in the decades since taken on almost mythic proportions in American culture, a touchstone for boomers and everyone after.

What’s clear from the movie is how Woodstock was very nearly a catastrophe, logistically speaking. Far more people showed up for the three-day festival than anyone had expected. There wasn’t enough food to go around, and the whole unsheltered crowd nearly fried in an electrical storm. It’s easy to imagine violence breaking out, or some other terrible event that would consume cultural memory. In fact, that did happen a few months later, when a teenage Rolling Stones fan was stabbed and beaten to death at the Altamont Speedway, an event captured by Albert and David Maysles in their 1970 film “Gimme Shelter.” (“Everything that people feared would happen (but didn’t) at Woodstock happened at Altamont,” the New York Times critic Vincent Canby wrote of that film.)

“Woodstock” is a mesmerizing watch, as the cameras roam from the stage to the organizers’ chaotic approach to managing the crowd to the many ways that attendees figured out how to take care of one another. (And there is, of course, the music.) Just as the festival threatened to veer out of control at any moment, the filming was a skin-of-the-teeth operation, with a team populated by many young and relatively inexperienced filmmakers. Perhaps that’s why it ended up working.

In fact, that’s why I’ve been thinking about it: out there in the mud holding a camera was a very young Martin Scorsese, fresh out of film school. According to cameraman Hart Perry in a Rolling Stone article about “Woodstock,” Scorsese tried to nap under the stage in a pup tent, knocked over the pole and got stuck in the tent. “He had claustrophobia and was screaming for somebody to help him,” Chew said. “But he wasn’t Martin Scorsese yet, he was just some schmuck from Little Italy.”

Scorsese, of course, went on to become someone. This year his drama “Killers of the Flower Moon” is nominated for 10 awards at the Oscars — and one of those is for Thelma Schoonmaker, his longtime editor. She and Scorsese began their work together in 1967, with their first feature, “Who’s That Knocking at My Door.” Soon after, she worked as an editor on, you guessed it, “Woodstock.” For moviegoers, the documentary’s legacy stretches far beyond its subject.

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Arj Barker on monkeys, nudity and men’s shorts: ‘I don’t want people to see my knees’ | Comedy

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What is in each of your pockets right now?

Some poop bags. Because I took my dogs out earlier. And they weren’t as productive as I had hoped. So there’s still two poop bags in here.

What are your dogs’ nicknames?

I have two that I share with my ex-wife. They get two homes and two parents and they’re very modern dogs. Frankie and Freya. Frankie gets called a lot of things – Frizzy, Fizzle, Dankles, Danky, Griswold, Skip. I won’t get into the origins of all of these. Freya mostly gets called Frey Liottie after Ray Liotta.

I’ll say their nickname and their ears go back a little bit.

What animal do you most relate to and why?

Growing up I had this book called For The Love of Monkeys. And I took it everywhere with me. I loved monkeys and I always wanted one. But when I was in India one time, they didn’t have a lot of safety measures at the zoo. I walked up to a cage and I was like: it’s a snow monkey, I know that from my book! I put my hand in to shake its hand. It grabbed my hand and started pulling me in. It opened its jaw; it was like something out of Alien. I saw the sharpest teeth.

From that day, I decided I probably didn’t want a monkey any more.

What’s the weirdest thing that’s happened to you on stage?

This is classic Australia – I’m gonna say it was somewhere on the Sunshine Coast. A possum dropped out of the ceiling on to the stage and just ran off. I love those guys; I was more concerned for the possum than anything, because it was quite a drop. But he seemed like he was OK.

Would you rather die at the bottom of the ocean or up in space?

Probably up in space, because at least I’d get some good views on the way out.

If you had to be a contestant on a reality TV show tomorrow, which one would it be?

I wouldn’t mind doing one where you have to survive in nature, where you’re actually just on your own and you have to figure out how to find food and shelter.

Like Naked and Afraid. Although I’m not super comfortable with nudity. So I might do Partially Clothed and Afraid. Or Board Shorts and Afraid. Or Board Shorts and T-shirt and Afraid, actually. It depends how many sit-ups I do before we start shooting.

What do you think is the ideal length of men’s shorts?

I like the knees covered. I don’t want to see men’s knees. I don’t want people to see my knees. But the style now is above the knee. So when I want shorts, I have to buy pants and then modify them myself. And I do! And I will keep doing it until the fashion industry catches up with my decree.

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What’s the most memorable first date you’ve been on?

One time I had a crush on this girl in high school. And somehow she agreed to go watch the Pink Floyd laser show at the planetarium. And I was so excited. We were gonna go out to dinner first, so I was like, here’s my chance.

When I got to her house she said, “Oh, can we just go to the early show? Because I have something to do.” And I said, “Sure – but what about dinner?” And she handed me a piece of cold chicken in a Tupperware thing. I was literally eating the chicken while driving my parents’ station wagon. It was pretty brutal. It was nice of her to offer something, I guess.

What is the most recent book you’ve loved?

The Case Against Reality by Donald Hoffman. I can’t understand a lot of it because he goes into such lofty discussions about evolution theory. But the general idea is that consciousness is primary, and what we call the physical world is a product of consciousness, not the other way around. A lot of science advocates the materialist view that everything’s built from atoms. But spiritual traditions like Buddhism and Hinduism – they’re more like, everything is a dream. The world is a dream.

Mainstream science wants us to believe that atoms come together and form in such a way that suddenly we’re having a conscious experience. Yet, with all our technology, we have no clue how the brain creates conscious experience – the ability to take a sip of coffee and experience that, or look at someone on a Zoom. That’s inexplicable. And Hoffman says they’re looking in the wrong place. You’re not going to get it out of the brain because the consciousness is creating the brain, not the other way around.

I find it awesome. The world is quite bleak when you have a materialist outlook. You just think this is all there is and I’m going to die and then there’s nothing. But one of my best friends passed away. I can’t just think, oh, he’s gone, and that’s it. I like to think that death is an illusion. Time is an illusion. Space is an illusion. I love all that stuff.

Your upcoming film is called The Nut Farm. Do you have a least favourite nut?

Almonds. I like the way they taste, but the little shards get caught in my throat if I eat dry almonds. I once tried to make a joke like: why does the mafia bump people off when they don’t want them to talk? They should just give them some almonds, because you can’t talk after eating them. But the joke never worked. Like many jokes.

  • Arj Barker stars in The Nut Farm, out in Australian cinemas 14 March. He is touring his new standup show The Mind Field all around Australia starting 22 March, including Melbourne international comedy festival dates 28 March to 21 April

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The Oscar Awards Columnist Shares What His Job Is Like

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Last month, Kyle Buchanan was seated at a table at the Independent Spirit Awards in Santa Monica, Calif., when, midway through the ceremony, a chant erupted outside.

Mr. Buchanan could hear the chant — “Free Palestine” — humming in the background of acceptance speeches. He exited the tent to find two protesters behind a barricade, playing the recorded chant over a bullhorn, and began filming them with his phone. Security guards soon yelled at him for filming and threatened to oust him from the premises.

Such is a day in the life of Mr. Buchanan, a pop culture reporter for The New York Times. As The Projectionist columnist, he covers Hollywood awards shows and the cultural moments unfolding both onstage and off.

Since joining The Times in 2018, Mr. Buchanan has reported from film festivals at Cannes, France, and Venice; profiled buzzy actors like Emma Stone and Da’Vine Joy Randolph; and covered more than 50 awards ceremonies.

His love of awards shows developed out of a childhood fascination. “Growing up, I was a kid with parents who had no particular affinity for indie films, foreign films or documentaries,” he said in a recent interview. “The Oscars felt like a portal into works of art that I didn’t know anything about. I was entranced.”

Ahead of the 96th Academy Awards this Sunday, Mr. Buchanan, who will be in attendance, shared his hopes for this year’s ceremony and the secret to interviewing media-trained celebrities. This interview has been edited and condensed.

Can you recall the first event you covered after joining The Times?

The first event I went to was the 2018 Toronto International Film Festival, which is one of the main way stations for Oscar contenders. That was where “Green Book” premiered, a film that eventually won best picture at the Oscars. That film set the tone for awards season coverage that year.

I think my predecessors — David Carr, Melena Ryzik and Cara Buckley — took the point of view of outsiders who parachuted into Hollywood, covering awards season as though they had landed on an alien planet. When I joined The Times, I sought to take a different approach. I wanted to tell readers why something mattered and clue them in with my insider perspective — like, why a movie that just premiered at the Toronto Film Festival could reshape an awards race. Or, the possible controversies about a film.

I like to present these behind-the-scenes machinations because they’re fascinating and can affect the way we consume movies.

How has your coverage changed over the years?

Lately, I endeavor to give readers a sense of how actors weather monthslong Oscar campaigns. They embark upon these campaigns in the fall with a lot of excitement. It’s something that a lot of them have always dreamed of being a part of, and it can advance their careers immeasurably. But the process can be exhausting.

During this awards season — maybe because the labor strike kept actors out of the press for a while — actors I’ve interviewed have been extremely thoughtful and candid with me.

You interviewed Danielle Brooks, who said that talking to you was like “therapy.” What’s the secret to getting media-trained celebrities to speak candidly?

The virtue of my job is that you get to spend a lot of time with a celebrity. Even if celebrities have their defenses up, you can simply outlast them because the conversation can last anywhere from 90 minutes to several hours. I also take great efforts to make interviews feel like conversations, not interrogations. When celebrities do a lot of short interviews, it can feel like speed dating. But if you have a real conversation with them, they start to relax and forget they are being interviewed, to some extent. I try to treat someone I’m interviewing like I would someone I met at a dinner party, like we’re getting to know each other.

What are the greatest challenges of covering awards season?

Keeping your stamina up. I don’t want to complain too much, but it is a lot more exhausting than people realize. I would also say that when it comes to predicting awards, it’s necessary to separate your own opinion on a film from your prediction. I know that there are a lot of professional pundits out there who let their dislike of a film affect whether they think it will win or not. I know that my tastes don’t always align with those of academy voters, and I try to put myself in their shoes.

What are you looking forward to most this weekend?

I hope that something emotional happens. The downside to an awards season being so long is that winners’ speeches sometimes become rote. Audiences respond to real and authentic emotional reactions. And if anyone can pull off an emotional moment, it’s people who work in Hollywood. So I hope that happens — a moment that audiences can feel a part of. That’s the sort of thing that makes you addicted to the potential of awards season.

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Imaginary review – a shoddy and unimaginative creepshow | Horror films

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It’s yet another sub-par day at the Blumhouse factory, production line operating at full, breakneck speed, yet machinery on the perilous verge of total collapse. The house of horror, behind hit franchises like Insidious, Paranormal Activity and The Purge, has become something of a franchise in itself, a branded string of low-budget films making a high profit, yet quality control has forever been an issue and in the last year or so, it’s barely existed.

On the first cursed weekend of January 2023, usually home to the most unintentionally horrifying horror films, M3gan upended critical expectations and scored reviews as impressive as its box office total. But normality soon resumed with a limp Insidious sequel, a junky time travel slasher, a loathed Exorcist reboot, an astonishingly dull video game adaptation and, most recently, a soggy haunted pool horror. Yet somehow, the very worst was yet to come and now here it is, crash-landing into cinemas with an embargo so late, some preview audiences will have already started watching it. Imaginary, teased by an audio-first, cinema-only trailer far smarter than the movie itself, is a shameless grab bag of stolen parts clumsily stitched together with such carelessness, it’s a miracle it’s even getting a theatrical release. The bar might have fallen to its lowest ever point for studio horror but it’s still a surprise to see just how bad things can really get.

I was kinder than most about writer-director Jeff Wadlow’s first Blumhouse offering, the gimmicky yet fun franchise non-starter Truth or Dare which worked just about enough in a low stakes kinda way, a Final Destination rip-off for the sleepover crowd. His follow-up Fantasy Island was a disordered mess, trying and failing to do far too much and there’s a similar level of unearned confidence on display in his latest, world-building done with an unsteady hand and an unfocused mind.

Things start off in familiar genre territory as a woman named Jessica (played by DeWanda Wise) returns to her childhood home with new family in tow, husband Max (British actor Tom Payne) and his two children from a former marriage. Both Jessica and Max have some sort of trauma in their past – her absent father, his mentally unwell ex-wife – and both are hoping that a new start will help them heal. But when youngest daughter Alice (Pyper Braun) finds an old teddy bear and claims it as her new imaginary friend Chauncey, their dream home becomes a nightmare.

While red flags start to fly pretty early on – some bad acting, some even worse dialogue – the build-up is at the very least competent, if entirely derivative, recalling the 2005 Robert De Niro thriller Hide and Seek as well as Poltergeist and M3gan, a child falling into dangerous fantasy dragged deeper by a nefarious presence. But like so many horror films these days, it’s a logline scrawled on a napkin rather than a fully-formed and fully thought-out script and so when the plot inevitably thickens, the cracks turn into chasms and a two-star time-waster descends into a one-star catastrophe.

Along with the year’s other Blumhouse misstep Night Swim, Imaginary feels like the sort of bottom-shelf shocker that would have littered video stores decades ago, modernised only by its almost parodic obsession with trauma, the word that has ruined many a horror film of late. The last act, as drip-drip creepiness turns into flash flood chaos, is a laughably incoherent string of question marks – how did they, how could she, what was that – which plays out as if it were being made up on the spot, sloppy enough for a refund, Wadlow and his co-writers Greg Erb and Jason Oremland in need of a stern sense-checker. There’s such lumbering gracelessness to how rules are introduced – characters stumbling over nonsensical realisations and reveals – and such shamelessness to how other, better films and shows are copied. There are too many to list but you can feel elements of It, Beetlejuice, Housebound, Come Play, Stranger Things and most obviously Coraline with a visual trick so brazenly similar, legal action should follow.

Wise can be a charming presence elsewhere but there’s only so much that can be done with the suffocatingly soapy dialogue she’s lumped with and she quickly gets lost in the murk surrounding her. Even the promise of Betty Buckley playing a mysterious neighbour frantically ranting about demonic mythology isn’t as much fun as it should have been.

Wadlow has spoken of his desire to make a four-quadrant horror intended for a broader audience, the likes of which audiences saw more of in the 1980s, operating like a roller coaster that’s exciting in the moment but unlikely to leave a mark. It’s an admirable mission statement and given how self-serious so many horror films can now be, aiming for more fun is no bad thing but Imaginary is far too dumb and ungainly to move at the pace required and bring the thrills it should, a theme park ride that should be closed for repairs.

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Expecting Protests at the Oscars, Police Plan to Beef Up Security

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The Los Angeles police said it would increase its presence at the Academy Awards on Sunday night to make sure that potential protests related to the Israel-Hamas war do not disrupt the Oscars ceremony.

Cmdr. Randy Goddard of the Los Angeles Police Department said it had gathered intelligence, based partially on social media posts, suggesting that at least one group “would like to stop the Academy Awards.”

“It’s going to be our goal to ensure that the Academy Awards is successful, that guests can arrive safely and get into the venue,” said Commander Goddard, the police official leading the department’s management of the Oscars. “But, also, we are going to try very hard to make contact with the groups as they show up, and lay out the expectation that we as the police are here to support your First Amendment constitutional rights.”

Some groups may try to block traffic or use other disruptive measures that demonstrators have leveraged at other events around the country, he said. Others may focus their efforts closer to the Dolby Theater in Hollywood, where the Oscars take place.

Commander Goddard said the department would “build out more resources” to “help facilitate” any march or demonstration, but emphasized that it would not allow protesters to break the law or prevent guests from arriving safely to the Oscars. “We’re hopefully going to find that middle ground,” he said.

A spokeswoman for the F.B.I. in Los Angeles said it maintained a presence at special events, including the Academy Awards, to share intelligence and to support its partners at the Los Angeles police.

At this year’s Grammys, a few dozen pro-Palestinian protesters demonstrated outside Crypto.com Arena, briefly blocking traffic by the drop-off area. A pro-Palestine protester with a loudspeaker stood outside the Independent Spirit Awards in Santa Monica last month.

The Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, which is hosting its 96th Oscars on Sunday, has dealt with disruptions over the years. Security has long been tight at the Oscars, which draws some of the world’s biggest stars to a live telecast viewed by millions of people.

Commander Goddard said the Dolby Theater itself, which is secured by the Academy, is protected by railings, fencing, checkpoints and almost 2,000 private security guards. “My objective is to get the guests safely inside that venue,” he said.

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Gone but far from forgotten

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Kristin here:

The speed with which the news of David’s death, early on the morning of February 29, 2024, spread has amazed me. I expected many responses: condolences, tributes, and most of all stories of how he had affected people’s lives. I didn’t expect the tidal wave of messages and posts and emails that followed. The authors range from his students and colleagues to casual acquaintances met at film festivals to filmmakers whose work was influenced by his writings. His legacy will clearly be vast and lasting, which to me provides the best consolation for his loss.

David was ill for two and a half years, starting with a cancer diagnosis in June, 2021. Treatment got rid of the cancer, but his chronic degenerative lung disease very slowly progressed. He went into hospice treatment at home last September. Hospice is supposed to last for six months, with an option to renew for another six. He lived almost exactly six months. Though growing weaker toward the end, he remained lucid. We watched a movie together every evening. In the last few days he did not feel up to a complex feature film, so on the night before he died, we rewatched two episodes of The West Wing. His fingers have grown stiff in recent months, but he managed to post a blog entry three days before his death. It was a re-post of an old entry on Hou Hsiao-hsien, with a short new introduction. It was relevant, because the Criterion Collection is streaming some of Hou’s early films, which David loved.

He wanted to die at home rather than spending his last days at a hospice facility, and he did. I was with him. It was brief, and I don’t think he suffered. It happened within a few months of the fiftieth anniversary of when we moved in together in the summer of 1974. He was as wonderful a spouse as he was a scholar and a friend.

His writings live on, of course. Some of them are available free online, linked on the left margin of his website’s main page. He leaves behind video analyses and lectures, too. Some are part of our series “Observations on Film Art” on The Criterion Channel. Others are supplements on Criterion video releases. Less well-known are the five full-length lectures he recorded and posted on Vimeo. Their topics give a sense of his breadth of interests.

What will happen to the blog? Recently we decided that re-posting older entries that seemed relevant to something happening at the time seemed a good plan. With over 1100 entries since our launch in 2006, there are plenty that few know about. I probably won’t blog as often as I used to, but no doubt inspiration will hit once in a while. I promise not to give up the year-end, inexplicably popular lists of the ten best films of ninety years ago. I suspect that 1934 will yield an impressive crop of titles.

This obituary, written by David’s colleagues and valued friends, was first posted on the website of the Department of Communication Arts the the University of Wisconsin-Madison on March 1.

 

David Bordwell, the Jacques Ledoux Professor Emeritus of Film Studies at the University of Wisconsin-Madison, died on February 29, 2024, at the age of 76 after a lengthy illness. A prolific researcher, dedicated teacher, and passionate cinephile, he guided countless colleagues, students, and film lovers to heightened awareness of the medium’s artistic possibilities. “One thing that I loved and greatly admired about Bordwell was how – with passion, analytic precision and boundless enthusiasm for the medium – he carved out an inviting, sui generis intellectual space that could be enjoyed by scholars and general readers alike,” wrote New York Times film critic Manohla Dargis upon learning of his passing. “He was a paragon of scholarly achievement, yes and of course, but he was also a lot of fun to read – which isn’t something you can say of most academics.”

Bordwell joined the faculty of UW-Madison’s Department of Communication Arts in 1973 immediately after completing his graduate coursework at the University of Iowa (PhD, 1974). He remained at Wisconsin throughout his illustrious career, retiring in 2004, and he continued contributing to the Department’s mission after retirement through emeritus teaching and other activities. He also held visiting faculty appointments at New York University (1979) and the University of Iowa (1980), and in spring 2017 he held the Kluge Chair in Modern Culture at the Library of Congress.

When Bordwell launched his career in the 1970s, film studies was just entering academia, and over the course of three decades at the UW-Madison, as well as a remarkably productive post-retirement, he helped the still-young discipline achieve new levels of respectability and intellectual rigor. Indeed, his scholarly productivity reset the bar for the discipline of film studies. He authored, coauthored, or edited some 22 books and monographs. These included two foundational film studies textbooks written with his spouse and intellectual partner, Dr. Kristin Thompson (Ph.D. UW-Madison, 1977), a multi-talented scholar who has made major contributions to film studies, literary studies, and Egyptology. Bordwell also authored more than 140 journal articles, book chapters, introductions to collections, and review essays.

Later in his career he produced equally valuable material for wider audiences including a lively, wide-ranging blog Observations on Film Art, also in partnership with Thompson, as well as video essays and informative DVD commentaries for The Criterion Collection. And he made himself available at numerous film festivals and public movie screenings as a commentator, sharing his knowledge and enthusiasm with fellow movie lovers. In fact, Bordwell remained a productive scholar until the very end of his life, just a year ago publishing Perplexing Plots: Popular Storytelling and the Poetics of Murder. This exhaustively researched and elegantly written book has been nominated for an Agatha Award and for the Edgar Award, given by the Mystery Writers of America, in the Best Critical/Biographical category.

An inspiring teacher, Bordwell’s classroom skills were acknowledged with the UW-Madison’s Chancellor’s Teaching Award (1984) and a Phi Beta Kappa Teaching Award (2004). He was known for his energized lectures and for his lively, probing graduate seminars. His pedagogical strategy was not so much to impart knowledge as to draw it out from students, yielding fresh insights on whatever film, director, or theoretical issue was on the agenda for that day. Professor Maria Belodubrovskaya (University of Chicago) speaks for generations of former Bordwell students in recalling the sense of participation available to all members of a Bordwell class. “What struck me about David’s teaching was that in the classroom he did not behave as a big-time scholar but as more of a leader,” she recalled.  “Everyone was treated as no less curious and observant than the instructor himself.”

Bordwell also provided a professional model that benefitted many of the Communication Arts graduate students who eventually entered higher education. UW-Madison Professor Emeritus Vance Kepley’s memory of his very first experience in a Bordwell graduate course is indicative: “It was something of an epiphany. By the end of the first class, I thought, ‘This is exactly how film studies should be taught.  It’s what I want to do, and I want to do it just as well.’ Of course, I never came close to duplicating David’s casual brilliance, but years of trying made me a better teacher.”

The impact of Bordwell’s graduate mentoring can be suggested by both the quantity and quality of the doctoral dissertations he supervised. At UW-Madison, he directed 33 dissertations, each of which helped launch a productive career, and 17 dissertations were published as career-enhancing monographs. Bordwell’s dissertators could count on him to provide exacting but encouraging guidance through the always-arduous process of bringing forth a polished manuscript. “David pounced on every chapter as soon as I submitted it for review,” remembers Professor Richard Neupert (University of Georgia). “Within days he returned the manuscript covered with detailed and often witty commentary, along with a thoughtful, typed summary with warnings, suggestions, and praise. More than a great mentor, he was a fellow traveler.”

Bordwell’s research program consisted of three principal strands. The first is composed of stylistic analyses of individual films or directors, most notably The Films of Carl-Theodor Dreyer (1980), the monumental Ozu and the Poetics of Cinema (1988), The Cinema of Eisenstein (1993), and detailed essays on Louis Feuillade, Kenji Mizoguchi, Theodoros Angelopoulos and Hou Hsiao-Hsien grouped in the volume Figures Traced in Light: On Cinematic Staging (2005). The introductory college textbook Film Art: An Introduction, written with Thompson, also contributes to this strand. First published in 1979, it is now in its thirteenth edition and will continue under the authorship of Professor Jeff Smith (UW-Madison). It has been translated into ten other languages, with additional translations forthcoming.

The analysis of national film styles and modes of film production constitutes the second strand of Bordwell’s research. These studies incorporate primary-level documentary research on the structure of film industries, film technology, and the conditions of production. The most important work in this category is The Classical Hollywood Cinema: Film Style and Mode of Production to 1960 (1985), written with Thompson and Janet Staiger (William P. Hobby Centennial Professor Emerita, University of Texas at Austin). A massive research undertaking, it incorporates stylistic analyses of a random sample of one hundred films, interviews with veteran cinematographers and other craft workers, and careful reading of film industry trade papers and industry technical reports. It seeks to define the group style of classical Hollywood in terms of a range of stylistic options which were delimited by the state of filmmaking technology at any given point, as well as by the craft practices and conventions internalized by filmmakers. The methodology was later used in another widely successful textbook, Film History: An Introduction, also coauthored with Thompson and designed to introduce students to a broad spectrum of national cinemas. The sole-authored Planet Hong Kong: Popular Cinema and the Art of Entertainment (2000) examined a small but hugely successful film industry from the 1970s through the 1990s, focusing on stylistic norms and narrative strategies that distinguished Hong Kong cinema from Hollywood.

The third strand of Bordwell’s research involved theorizing the role of the film spectator in the movie-viewing experience. Bordwell’s ground-breaking Narration in the Fiction Film (1985) proposed the idea that viewers integrated perceptual information with higher order cognition to construct the film’s story. For Bordwell, spectators were active makers of meaning who drew on their understanding of cinematic conventions, their knowledge of different types of stories, and their real-life experience to comprehend the various visual and audio cues given to them by the film. With this and several subsequent publications, Bordwell helped encourage a robust line of scholarship in cognitive film studies, an approach that brought together analytic philosophers and psychologists in developing a model of spectatorship that amalgamates aspects of art, culture, and even biology.

Bordwell’s many professional honors attest to the respect he earned in the international scholarly community. He was awarded honorary doctorates from the University of Copenhagen (1997) and from Lingnan University in Hong Kong (2023). Other major international awards include a University of Auckland Hood Fellowship (New Zealand), an Anthology Film Archives Award (United States), an Excellence in Asian Film Scholarship Award (Asian Film Society, Hong Kong), and the aforementioned Kluge Chair. At UW-Madison, Bordwell was selected for a prestigious Wisconsin Alumni Research Foundation Professorship (1990) and for a Hilldale Distinguished Professorship (2001), as well as a Hilldale Award in the Humanities (2001) and a senior fellowship at the Institute for Research in the Humanities (1993-98).

Bordwell’s love of cinema emerged when he was a child, living on a remote farm in upstate New York, far from any movie theater. In his rare moments away from school and chores, he nourished his cinephilia by watching films on TV and reading books about film starting at the age of 12. Bordwell made his way to the State University of New York at Albany, where he studied English literature. He then did his graduate studies in Speech and Dramatic Arts, with a concentration in Film at the University of Iowa.

Notice of his passing prompted glowing tributes for Bordwell from prominent filmmakers and intellectuals outside the academy who valued his myriad contributions to world film culture.

David Koepp, critically acclaimed screenwriter and director (Jurassic Park, Mission Impossible, Premium Rush)

“David’s genius for analyzing Hollywood narrative was an inspiration and a goal for me in my own work, and it reflected in the work of anyone who read him. He had a boundless generosity toward the medium and found value in everything he saw, at all levels of artistic accomplishment.”

Damien Chazelle, Oscar-winning writer and director (La La Land):

“I learned more about film from reading David Bordwell than from any other writer. To me he was America’s André Bazin, a thinker and historian who massively expanded the field and found a way   to marry theory and criticism in a wholly new way. Narration in the Fiction Film changed how I think about storytelling in film. Figures Traced in Light changed how I think about framing. The Way Hollywood Tells It changed how I think about Hollywood. He was a giant, and multiple generations of filmmakers, critics and theorists (for ultimately we are all in this together) owe him a huge debt.”

Kim Hendrickson, Executive Producer, Criterion:

“David and I spent many hours together recording his analyses for the fifty episode Observations on Film Art series we created for the Criterion Channel. He was a champion for movies not because he was superb at analyzing form – he was the best – but because movies were his life force. I, and so many colleagues at Janus and Criterion, are indebted to him for his brilliance, generosity, and friendship.”

James Schamus, award-winning screenwriter, producer, director, and professor (Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon; Brokeback Mountain):

“As a filmmaker, I can describe David’s friendship as unnervingly generous. His astonishing critical intelligence never got in the way of his enthusiasms, and his enthusiasms never dampened his analytic regard; they were functions of each other. This meant that when talk came around to one’s own work, the effect was something akin to getting a loving bear hug from a nuclear-powered microscope. There will never be another like David again.”

To an international community of filmmakers, film students, and cinephiles, David Bordwell was the most respected film scholar of his generation. But to his very wide and ever-widening circle of friends, he also was a warm, witty, unaffected companion. To the thousands of students, colleagues, and movie-lovers who sought his counsel outside of the classroom, he was generous with his time and knowledge, and in social gatherings he graciously cultivated new friendships with individuals he was meeting for the first time while also reconfirming his appreciation for friends of long-standing. He could tailor his one-on-one conversations to whatever topics were of interest to the other party, and one usually came away from such chats with the feeling that, besides being a keen conversationalist, he was also a wonderfully attentive and appreciative listener. All who knew David Bordwell personally will miss his kindness, goodwill, and boundless congeniality, as well as his professional wisdom.

Survivors include his wife, Kristin Thompson; his sisters, Diane Bordwell Verma and Darlene Bordwell; his nephew, Sanjeev Verma, and his niece, Kamini Verma.

 

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Dune: Part Two: new villain, more worms, another cliffhanger – discuss with spoilers | Science fiction and fantasy films

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Three years after Denis Villeneuve left us in the middle of the desert and the story, we’re finally back to the Duniverse. The French-Canadian auteur gambled with the first Dune, adapting only half of Frank Herbert’s 1965 sci-fi tome; Part Two picks up where the first film left off, with Timothée Chalamet’s high-born Paul Atreides stranded on the desert planet Arrakis, attempting to ingratiate himself to the indigenous Fremen with the fate of the universe on his shoulders – if you believe the prophecies.

Like the book, the second half of this grandiose, ambivalent epic deals with shadowy propaganda, the power of faith, the deadly risks of mythic destiny, political insurgencies, atomic weapons and imperial violence. Also, giant sandworms, finally in full battle form. The extremely hype-y trailers, coupled with near-universally glowing reviews, stellar audience scores and a good old-fashioned press blitz by not one but four young movie stars helped Dune: Part Two to a better-than expected box office – $81.5m domestically, $178m total, the biggest opening weekend since Barbie.

It’s hard to qualify for spoilers when the book is nearly 60 years old. But still, spoiler alert, as there was much intrigue to how Villeneuve would handle the second half of the book – how faithful would he be to the material? Do the sandworms live up to the hype? What to make of Austin Butler, or another cliffhanger ending? Now that you’ve seen what is shaping up to be, potentially, the movie-going event of the year, let’s discuss.

Arrival

Before we even get to the Warner Bros title card, we hear a guttural proclamation, translated over black: “Power over spice is power over all.” Blockbuster sci-fi clearly inspired by oil in the Middle East, we are so back! The imperial Princess Irulan, played by series newcomer Florence Pugh (who, as always, manages to appear right at home in whatever century/country/galaxy she’s in), provides a two-minute recap: House Atreides has been all but exterminated on Arrakis, killed in the dark – the secret work of her father, the Emperor, in concert with the overtly villainous Harkonnens.

Photograph: Courtesy of Warner Bros. Pictures/AP

And then we’re back to where the first film left off, or shortly thereafter – Paul and his mother Jessica (Rebecca Ferguson) in the open desert, having just recently joined a band of Fremen warriors led by Stilgar (Javier Bardem). Villeneuve has compressed the timeline on Arrakis from eight or nine years to months, so things get going quickly; the group, still carrying the body of Jamis (Babs Olusanmokun), the warrior Paul killed at the end of Part One, immediately encounter a group of Harkonnens looking to either find Paul, exterminate the Fremen, or both.

Say what you will about Villeneuve’s characterization (or lack thereof) of any Harkonnen foot soldiers or especially the Fremen – the moment when the Harkonnens start flying to the top of a desert mountain is sick. The Fremen attack on a Harkonnen spice harvester is sick. Every battle in this movie is a true visual feast. And the visualization of Fremen harvesting water from Harkonnen bodies adds a touch of visceral body horror to all the big desert set pieces.

Womb with a view

Rebecca Ferguson as Lady Jessica. Photograph: Courtesy Warner Bros. Pictures/AP

I won’t get too in the weeds with differences from the book – my colleague Tom Huddleston broke it down here – but suffice to say, there are some changes for the sake of economy: no Thufir Hawat (played in the first film by Stephen McKinley Henderson), no Leto II (honestly, thank God), no Count Fenring (sorry, Tim Blake Nelson, who was reportedly hired to play him). One of the biggest changes is the portrayal of Alia, Paul’s younger sister, who remains in utero throughout the movie (save an adult cameo, played by Anya Taylor-Joy, in Paul’s worm venom-induced vision). But she still plays a crucial role as an embryo that Villeneuve puts on screen, to demonstrate how Jessica’s consumption of the Water of Life (worm venom) imbues were with “pre-born” powers, as well as explicate her motivations.

Ferguson’s performance is pitch perfectly creepy and intense, as Jessica inherits the memories of centuries of Fremen culture to, by her own admission to Alia, convert vulnerable people into believers of the Lisan al-Ghaib, a prophecy planted for centuries by the shadowy Bene Gesserit. Dune has always been astute on the informal, intangible yet mighty soft power historically wielded by women; Jessica’s transformation into the Reverend Mother, fanning the flames of faith and managing cultural memory for her own gain, is a particularly unsettling depiction of colonial violence. The fact that she does so while chatting with her telepathic fetus just adds to the weirdness.

Desert romance

Photograph: Niko Tavernise/AP

Villeneuve has about an hour before he really needs to get off Arrakis and establish everything else going on, and in that time, we need to believe that Paul and Chani, the Fremen warrior played by Zendaya, fall in love. Luckily, Zendaya and Chalamet have a natural chemistry, and Villeneuve affords us a few scenes of flirting around Paul’s numerous desert tests – namely, Chani telling him that he “sandwalks like a drunk lizard” and teaching him to build wind traps.

Unlike Villeneuve’s friend Christopher Nolan, who included the first sex scene of his blockbuster career in last year’s Oppenheimer, Dune: Part Two keeps it relatively tame: we get a nice for-the-trailer kiss amid the great desert vistas, several declarations of devotion (“I would very much like to be equal to you,” Paul tells Chani, and that’s when you know this is going nowhere good) and a postcoital tent moment to discuss some classic mother-in-law issues (Chani tells him she’s stirring up trouble; Paul just sighs and looks exasperated).

From Elvis to Feyd-Rautha

Austin Butler as Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen and Léa Seydoux as Lady Margot Fenring. Photograph: Niko Tavernise/AP

One of the great question marks of Part Two was how Austin Butler, heretofore primarily known for playing Elvis in perpetuity, would embody Baron Harkonnen’s dastardly nephew and heir, na-Baron Feyd-Rautha. The answer is: brilliant, bald, brutal. Slicked in black paint and murderously unpredictable, filmed in monochrome with gleaming white skin and black teeth, Butler looks, frankly, insane. As Princess Irulan puts it maybe too bluntly: “Feyd-Rautha? But he’s psychotic!”

He’s also, crucially, ripped, and brimming with danger. Butler has finally shed his Elvis voice, and instead speaks in a chilling, raspier take on Stellan Skarsgård’s portentous rasp. As reported by the Bene Gesserit: Feyd-Rautha is a highly intelligent sociopath who murdered his mother, craves pain and humiliation, and is sexually vulnerable. And thus to many … hot. If Dune: Part Two is often dry, dutiful and sterile, Butler’s Feyd-Rautha offers a jolt of psychosexual edge. (No wonder his brief moment with Léa Seydoux’s Bene Gesserit seductress Lady Fenring, in which she mindfucks him into the hand-in-the-box test from the first film, has already been memed.)

Christopher Walken is in Dune?

Casting Christopher Walken as the Padishah Emperor Shaddam IV was a left-field choice for many Dune fans — the 80-year-old actor isn’t exactly known for speaking in the way of blockbuster gravitas. Personally, this was one the film’s few bum notes for me. Walken looks the part of an ageing emperor saddled with secrets, but has a voice that feels as suited for 24,000 years from now as the name “Jessica”. Lines such as “This Muad’Dib, some new Fremen prophet,” hit different in an accent distinctive and famous enough to inspire its own BMW Super Bowl commercial. And yet when the moment calls for it – a wordless, tremulous Emperor literally stomped at by Paul to kiss the ring – Walken is up to the task.

Zendaya’s movie?

Photograph: Courtesy of Warner Bros. Pictures/AP

One of the main critiques of the first film, particularly from people who didn’t know what they were in for, was that it overly teased Zendaya – other than a few visions, she only appeared as Chani in the last half hour. Part Two is her moment, and still, there could’ve and should’ve been more Zendaya as Chani, as Villeneuve has significantly altered the books to make her the moral heart of the franchise. The Duniverse has always been skeptical of Paul’s destiny and power, of whether his Chosen One arc was fated or manufactured – either way, doesn’t matter, it causes mass destruction. In Villeneuve’s take, Chani is refreshingly skeptical of Paul’s intentions and the fundamentalist Fremen prophecies from the jump – “you want to control people? Tell them a messiah will come,” she says. “Then they’ll wait – for centuries.”

Chani is arguably tasked with carrying too much – she’s supposed to sell the romance with Paul, represent his true connection to the Fremen, embody the anti-colonialist themes of the book, poke fun at Stilgar’s fanaticism for comic relief and undercut the classic Chosen One prophecy narrative with some sense. The fact that Zendaya makes her still feel like a person – one whose heart gets broken as Paul takes over the Imperium, leads the Fremen to more war and proposes to Princess Irulan — is an accomplishment.

The Final Showdown

Photograph: Courtesy of Warner Bros. Pictures/AP

I don’t have much to say about the final showdown in Arrakeen other than watching legions of warriors ride in on sandworms made me grin like a child. We are blessed to live in the age of big-canvas auteurs and CGI.

Sad boy rules

By the end of the movie, Chalamet’s makeup has changed to reflect the mood — Paul’s face has the pallor of burden (or betrayal?), and Chalamet’s performance is ice-cold (“you die like an animal” is the last thing the Baron hears). It’s a strikingly ambivalent ending to Paul’s arc: he got what he wanted (revenge) and then some, but nothing about it feels triumphant. He’s battered, twice stabbed and dead in the eyes, having betrayed all of his promises to Chani.

Given its subtext, one inescapable reading of Dune for me was as a great parable for mega-fame – what it means to be chosen, willingly or through great effort; what you lose to being known and cherished by millions, to having whole economies and livelihoods depend on an idea of you. Dune might be one of the few films left to refute the “death” of the movie star, but it looks taxing.

Baiting Warner Bros again?

Denis Villeneuve. Photograph: Christinne Muschi/AP

Villeneuve already made a huge gamble in adapting just half of Dune with the first film, despite not having a sequel greenlit – and he appears to be betting on himself again. The final shot of the film belongs not to Paul but to Chani, emotionally calling a sandworm to go her own way, a departure from the books. Villeneuve has been remarkably open about wanting to make a third installment based on Dune: Messiah that will, presumably, follow Chani’s lead. Given Part Two’s performance this weekend, I’m betting on more Dune.

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