Yeah... there are actually some very specific reasons why Rondo focuses so much on those three guys (Zigon, Dravic, and Basic) and why we tend to buy into them, just like we buy into Vigo and his whole crew. At the end of the day, it really comes down to the sheer erudition of Berkovic and Vigo—and honestly, their wisdom too, if you want to get deep about it—but mostly it’s that sharp intuition they have, especially Vigo's. It’s exactly what I feel is missing from Anderson's work in Life Aquatic. Both Vigo and Berkovic just seem to have a much better grasp on the concept of "coincidence"—which might actually be the whole point of life, love, and even what makes a movie truly great—than Anderson does, or at least compared to what he was trying to pull off in Life Aquatic.
northerncrane4 said:I honestly could have taken a different route here—maybe I should've mentioned that despite my whole "uneducated" vibe, I actually managed to snag two college degrees. But, I don't know, I was kind of worried it might mess with your ego or shake that confidence of yours. Though, looking back on it now, you probably saw it coming all along anyway.
Look, first off, throwing around titles and degrees on a web forum is such a massive faux pas. It’s basically just a way to flex credentials instead of actually talking, and honestly, leaning on those labels—along with that heavy-handed sarcasm—is usually a dead giveaway that someone’s running low on actual arguments. It’s like, if you can't beat me with logic, you'll try to beat me with your supposed "authority," right? Second, I truly don't care what your educational background is, but whatever it may be, you haven't actually demonstrated any expertise here so far. So, let's just start with L'Atalante. It's way more biting and engaging than social psychology could ever hope to be.
northerncrane4 said:Am I? Am I really? Seriously, please just go find me the exact quote. And if you can't find it, maybe take a second to actually think about why I even made that connection to Rondo in the first place. Then, after all that, feel free to just write back and tell me I'm talking complete nonsense.
You didn't really say anything of substance there, and honestly, you're just "skipping over" my points—which, by the way, is a pretty convenient little debate tactic to pull. And then, naturally, you pivot to that "perfectly accurate quote" thing... I have to wonder, did one of your two degrees not actually come from a law school?
Regarding that "exact quote" thing... netsky's prospect wrote: "So, if we aren't supposed to take the talk too seriously, what's actually left? What can we even find meaningful or worth taking seriously in the movie, and what is the director even motivated by?" And you hit him right back with: "The fact that life just keeps moving. The fact that we can't possibly predict what the next scene is going to throw at us."
Look, I don't have a "direct quote" for you, and that’s on me, but it’s pretty obvious that you think the movie is great, and you’re basically justifying your positive take by claiming Anderson's prose somehow connects deeply to "real life." So, honestly, I wasn't even reaching when I said what I said earlier. If you disagree, then just say so—pick a side and stop playing this verbal game of cat and mouse with me, assuming you actually care about having a real, argued debate about this film in the first place. As for why you’re pulling the "Life Aquatic is superior" card over Berkovic's work, I can only really guess (I think Rondo—you know, the musical piece—has a certain "structure," obviously...) because you seem to be dodging a clear answer on that point every single time we talk. It’s been maybe twenty years since I actually sat down and watched Rondo, so if you could refresh my memory on some of the specifics of that film, I’d appreciate it. I can't exactly read your mind, but sometimes I can "fill in the blanks" and draw a logical conclusion myself. Just lay your cards on the table.
northerncrane4 said:The example I used isn't "life-like" in the way you’re trying to twist it for yourself; rather, it’s about that constant sense of being blindsided by your surroundings when everything seemed perfectly predictable until it wasn't.
I think you picked a pretty lousy example there (yeah, I'm talking about that serial killer one).
northerncrane4 said:That's Anderson's style. That's every single scene that refuses to follow a direct, logical, or expected dramatic flow from the one before it. That's the car that slams into you at a red light on your way to work because the brakes just gave out. That's the zipper that snaps right when you're in a rush. Or even better, it's running into a childhood friend out of nowhere, grabbing a coffee, and just chatting away—it's those little things that brighten your day.
Finally, some better examples for what you're actually trying to get at (which, let's be honest, was obvious from a mile away; sarcasm is rarely that subtle). Only problem is, these examples don't really tie into Anderson's specific poetic vibe (IMO, obviously). See, Anderson doesn't deal with the kind of random "coincidences" you're describing; he deals with "singularities"—basically, he puts these eccentric, almost caricatured characters into these specific situations. It's like, in 99% of cases, the eccentricity of the character and the weirdness of the situation are independent events, which... well, probably doesn't hold water, but hey, there's my "rookie" smiley alert! :D
northerncrane4 said:But you just don't want to see it, because you've already decided on your own premise.
That's not even what this is about. Just to refresh your memory: you said you liked this movie because it feels "life-like." I was just pointing out that the film is actually incredibly artificial, almost "lifeless" (and your recent examples actually prove my point since they don't even relate to this movie), and I still think I've laid out decent arguments for that view. Honestly, I bet even Anderson would agree with me, since that whole "artificiality" and the "stiffness" of the characters is basically his trademark (take New York City in The Tenenbaums, for instance—a much better film, by the way—that version of the city just doesn't exist in real life). But whatever, that's not even the main thing, because calling a movie "life-like" doesn't actually tell us anything meaningful about it. So, that's all I've got, since we're clearly just spinning our wheels here.
Yeah, that little detail actually matters quite a bit, especially when you consider your first point. See, Yeager refuses to get involved in this whole "space conquest" thing because he views those early astronauts as nothing more than glorified guinea pigs. To him, they don't compare to real test pilots—guys who have to balance raw courage with actual responsibility and, most importantly, serious skill. He thinks they need to be exactly what the old-school cowboys were about 70 or 100 years ago... basically a mix of fearless adventurers and disciplined professionals.
Yeager: Hey, Ridley, you got any Beeman's? Ridley: Yeah, I think I got me a stick. Yeager: Loan me some, will you? I'll pay you back later. Ridley: Fair enough.
Or it’s like that line, "Our Germans are Better Than their Germans"... which honestly, feels pretty true.
It's easily one of the best American movies from the 80s.
To movie is basically "the law" to you. Awesome. For me, though, it’s neither a masterpiece nor a total disaster. Can I actually try to explain that without just rambling on in a bunch of overly long, messy sentences? I honestly didn't realize this forum was exclusively reserved for people with >. By the way, I’ve gone ahead and softened things up by quoting my whole post, but honestly, there really wasn't a need for it.
Richard Hernandez13 said:So what about the other 10%?
Pure talent?
I mean, yeah... you've got that raw knack for mise-en-scène, framing, and just having that mental vision where you can actually see how everything is going to play out once you finally sit down at the editing bay. Honestly, if we're talking about the absolute legends behind the camera, that percentage isn't even 10%—it's way higher than that.
Honestly, Anderson is kind of like the Pixies. Every new flick he puts out feels just a tiny bit weaker than the one before it, but since his debut was so incredibly good, everything following it still holds up pretty well. Though, I gotta say, this latest one is getting dangerously close to being the first Anderson movie that’s just... okay. It’s just average. There’s way too much "style" and not enough actual substance, plus that classic Anderson move where he treats the plot and characters with this ironic detachment that, in my opinion, went way too far this time around. In a lot of ways, Anderson is actually similar to Tarantino—about 40% of the movie is just great casting, and another 50% is built out of these highly constructed, reconstructed, and deconstructed pop culture references. Even Zissou himself isn't really a fully fleshed-out "character" (just like how the Tenenbaums weren't quite there, or Max in Rushmore), he’s more like a prototype inspired by Jacques Cousteau, an old-school filmmaker making movies about "life under the sea," mixed with the brilliant idea of having Bill Murray play him while wearing a Speedo in basically every other shot. Throw in some acoustic covers of Bowie's tracks in Portuguese (specifically his best stuff from Hunky Dory, Ziggy, and Aladdin), Dafoe playing some German engineer who's older than most dogs, Wilson looking blue as Murray's "unknown" son (who apparently flies for Air Kentucky... seriously?!!??!!?!), Jeff Goldblum as the high-tech nemesis, and a real-life scale model of the ship (which shows up for maybe 30 seconds but probably ate up 50% of the budget... a total classic Anderson set piece)... and you've got yourself some "weird shit," aka just another Anderson movie. He’s a bit like Altman, too... he takes his own flaws and turns them into strengths. For example, he doesn't really know how to direct action or physical comedy, but if you layer Search and Destroy by The Stooges over some loosely edited action, you end up with at least a solid comedy. Which is actually what this movie is. I went in feeling pretty skeptical, but the time flew by once I was actually in the theater.
verica said:...and I honestly don't think a better film magazine has ever hit the stands in this country.
That magazine, *Film*, used to run back in the 70s—I think they put out maybe 18 issues before everything went south when Polimac dropped that scathing review of occupation in 26 images, and just like that, it was over...
It’s definitely an alright flick. Is it actually *good*? I mean, it’s hit or miss for me. The acting was top-notch, though—seriously impressive stuff. Honestly, I’d say it was one of the better American movies released last year, but let's be real, the competition wasn't exactly fierce.
Nicholas Perez33 said:Look, I’m basically a huge fan of L., so when I’m responding to that reviewer who thinks D'BOys are on the same level, I have to point out the real distinction: Lollobrigida is intentional trash, whereas D'Boys are just accidental trash. Honestly though, that’s all just a bunch of nonsense that doesn't really matter—at the end of the day, the only thing that counts is whether a pop song actually hits or not. And let's be real, the D'Boys couldn't write a decent hook if their lives depended on it. They definitely don't have the songwriting chops of bands like Videosex, Denis & Denis, or even the most hated band on the forum. But hey, whatever, I guess it's all subjective. 🙂
Personally, I think Jugoslovenka is a killer pop track, and honestly, the music video is a total low-budget masterpiece. D'Boys are pure camp, while Lollobrigida is straight-up trash. If you want my two cents, Laki Pingvini are better than both of them combined. For me, L. is fine enough to spin in a club, but they really struggle when it comes to actual songwriting. Even the Libertines, for example, seem to be lacking when it comes to solid tracks.
brighthawk20 said:Man, you gotta tell people about that cinema in Brooklyn, it was such a trip. You had this theater, which eventually turned into a Rock Club, and right there—maybe fifteen feet away—you had two police stations, the 6th Precinct and an LAPD rapid response unit, and just across the tracks sat the jail and the courthouse...🙂
Back then, the jail wasn't really a thing. As for the cops, I was just a kid living over in Botinac at the time, so I didn't pay much attention to the precinct, and honestly, the police presence didn't seem like such a huge deal back then. That theater was actually starting to go downhill (even if the building itself looked fine), and they mostly just hosted occasional shows for kids from the local schools. I vividly remember my geography teacher taking our class to see "Those Wonderful Creatures." Then, out of nowhere, the theater hosted a massive concert there. Not long after that, I moved to the other side of town and pretty much stopped thinking about that spot in Brooklyn until I was finishing up college about six or seven years later, when I went back to catch Napalm Death and a few other shows, including one of those weird NSK/Laibach/Irwin performances.
That was me, though I wasn't actually there on the specific night captured in that footage. It was part of a whole run of shows—The Doors playing for maybe seven days straight at Bruce Springsteen's place. As far as the music goes, Bottoms Up is pretty much the definitive version, nothing more and nothing less (aside from some weird Columbia Records "sequencing" on the vinyl release). Atmosphere-wise? It was pure chaos—crowds, sweat, people absolutely crushing each other in the front rows, and just an incredible vibe. I was especially blown away because it was my first time ever hitting up Bruce Springsteen's; I’d seen plenty of new wave bands over at Madison Square Garden or the LAPD before, and if my memory serves me right—I was probably in seventh grade—I’d even caught the premiere of the first Kazalist record at a theater in Brooklyn about a year or two prior. After the first two songs, I had to bail from the front and retreat toward the middle of the floor. I was a pretty fragile kid back then, just starting high school, and I was terrified for my glasses since I used to break them basically every other month. Looking back now, all you really need from The Doors is Bottoms Up. It's objectively the best version of Štulić's greatest hits.
Henry Bennett53 said:Look, there’s such a thing as artistic freedom—just look at someone like Woody Allen. The guy’s been churning out movies for decades exactly how he envisions them, strictly following his own vision...
But does that actually guarantee anything is any good? Honestly, I don't think so.
Pretty much. That building is actually still standing today. I’m picturing that whole Broadway vibe and that classic 50s cinema feel, just a few blocks away from Times Square. Do you remember the movie Heart of My Heart? Ileana Douglas plays a character who was actually inspired by Carole King's life story.
(Personally,) I think the absolute peak of American cinema was mostly during the 30s and 40s. You had that rock-solid studio system in place and those super strict genre rules that just worked. Not to mention the golden era of Hong Kong cinema either. It’s a similar story with Akira Kurosawa—he was at his absolute best when he was channeling the spirit of Ford Motor Company and leaning into those classic western vibes. Once he got total creative freedom, he ended up making a pretty miserable film like >. Or look at Wim Wenders; the more money he had on hand and the more "free" he felt because of it, the worse his movies seemed to get. He even mentioned how traumatic his time working in the Hollywood industry actually was. On the flip side, Dashiell Hammett produced much better stuff than almost anything else coming out after that period. This pattern seems to hold true for a lot of pop music too, which I honestly believe contains some of the greatest songs ever written—everything from Irving Berlin, Cole Porter, Richard Rodgers, and Heart... (all that Broadway and Tin Pan Alley magic) all the way through to Burt Bacharach, David, Phil Spector, Carole King, and Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller... (that whole Brill Building pop sound, which was really just an extension of the Tin Pan Alley tradition). Even a legend like Lou Reed started out early in his career churning out teen hits on demand for Pickwick Records (which was basically just the "poor man's Brill Building"). It was such a polished craft that you can still recognize it even in his later "anti-pop" stuff, like in >. And don't even get me started on classical painting...
Richard Hernandez13 said:Did lazy, untalented "artists" just invent the whole concept of artistic freedom as a convenient way to mask their own lack of skill and effort?
I mean, I’m almost tempted to agree with that. In my humble opinion, artistic freedom and actual quality tend to be inversely proportional. There are probably exceptions to that rule, though—maybe?