Films Weekly (Week 9)

No Country for Old Men (2007) dir. Coen Brothers

No Country serves as the limbo between the squeamish and the relaxed. Set in this grimy, old town in Texas, the quiet lives of the people are not particularly disturbed, but is still mismatched with how turbulent the protagonists' (and the antagonist's) decisions distressed the the sleepy mood. Much can also be said about the relentless violence that perfectly matches the humor. The sudden drop of temperature you feel when greeted by the deafening silence signals the arrival of the enigma that is Anton Chigurh, the captive bolt pistol-wielding hitman. A "psychopathic killer," he is described as a man with no remorse or compassion--but does every killing with deliberation, using a coin to decide the fate of his victims. This archetype of a villain almost seems perfect, with his almost-silent character as the main protagonist in his own antagonist world. The main protagonist, on the other hand, seized the idea that he could be the hero. Before falling to the hands of Chigurh, we see the inextricable tragedy he is setting himself upon. The progressive underlining of the antagonist's drives at lonely motels and bereft-looking gas stations almost conceives the idea that he is close, and the sudden uncertainty of who should we root for comes into mind. No other movie has played with my morals as ferociously as this one. 

Spectre (2015) dir. Sam Mendes

I can't fully express my disappointment for this last Bond feature with Daniel Craig without highlighting the bad quality of acting, the patronizing portrayal of women, and the poor character development. Yes, we've known Bond for centuries now, but they could have done added a little spice to Craig's character, as this would be his last one. There was no sense of thrill, making it look like a recycled bowl of Just Make the Goddamn Movie. It was tired and I found no motivation to watch it again in the near future. Unlike Skyfall and Casino Royale, the calamity perfectly dogged along with the enjoyment. 

Gangs of New York (2002) dir. Martin Scorsese

The America shown in this film was not the bright land we all envisioned. Instead, it was seething with fear, neurosis, and flawed governance. Graft, corruption, and larceny were expressed in a manner so great that it tops any of Mr. Scorsese's past character and story debauchery. He rapaciously recreated something from the twentieth century that it sends the notion that someone watching this in the twenty-first century surely felt agitated. His penchant for street-style mobs were elegantly wed with the Old New York--something that fits perfectly, with the unruly crowds and loud music. A man of genius in the acts of lawlessness, Mr. Scorsese addressed the ethnographic sensibility of the characters, making it an important movie. It wasn't polite in the sense that it shouldn't be, and the misfortunes were not stylized. Mr. Scorsese doesn't ever push his motives, but it does leave something for our eyes and mind alike to feast on. 

Ex Machina (2015) dir. Alex Garland

With the turn of the century, the innovation of technology is very unlikely to cease. It's a fast-paced corroborative act done by humans and, true enough, it's become smarter and more conscious than the normal human mind. A machine outdoing a human is not impossible, and it's such a shame. They are becoming aware, and it's scary to think of a world localized by machines, and Ex Machina proves it to be that disturbing. It's a philosophical movement, in a way that man is God, and the robot is the creation; man treats himself as the messiah of a dying breed when he created a thinking machine--so strong it challenged (and defeated) him. It was an unexpected turn of events, with the gentle reminder at the end that we, too, were fooled. Certainly not a shallow play, it has no room for conventionality: modernity is played out with the helpful guidance of the olden teachings, bowing to the Greek idea that revolves around the deus ex machina doctrine. Somewhat a shameful ode to the fall of humans to decompartmentalization, this wit-wrenching gem will surely live on as a harsh reminder that we can be gods, but only for a little while.

Fargo (1996) dir. Coen Brothers

Set in a mundane town, the Coen brothers are at their height of exploration when the focus on murder and calamities that hit the characters was swerved away by the gentle remarks of awkwardness among the protagonists--therefore adding lightness to the mood. The most prominent hero in the film, however overshadowed by the occasional panning of the camera to the statue of Paul Bunyan, is the very pregnant Marge. This factor shed some light on the darkness that looms around the characters as it redeems the noir-esque atmosphere. The remoteness of the setting makes up for the thick plot line, a sharp contrast so eerily portrayed. The torridness of violence in this movie runs so fast it appears to be comical. Dreamlike, the Coen brothers envisioned a turbulence that masked itself as a calm wave.