понедељак, 25. фебруар 2008.


Čoveku je u biti da se opredeljuje. Ako vidite dva tima koji igraju fudbal/basket...posle izvesnog vremena počećete da navijate za jedan.
Nekada se opredeljujete i na osnovu predznanja, istorijata učesnika, minulog rada...suštinski, na neviđeno. Tako bih i ja, da nisam subotu i nedelju proveo na projekcijama dva glavna favorita za nagradu Oskar, bio spreman da se zakunem da Braća Koen treba da dobiju glavne nagrade. U odnosu na Pola Tomasa Andersona koga cenim ali čiji su filmovi nekako uvek bivali predugi i previše pretenciozni, Koeni su bili čista bioskopska radost. Na kraju su Oskari i otišli upravo tako...što je čist promašaj jer Nema zemlje za starce je samo vrlo dobar film...ili čak odličan film sa greškom, ali nikako najbolji film godine. To čak nije ni najbolji film braće koen...Milerovo raskršće, Barton Fink, Fargo i Veliki Lebovski su za klasu iznad.
Za razliku od Koena, P.T. Anderson je filmom Biće krvi dostigao svoj vrhunac sazrevši u potpunosti kao autor. Ne verujem da trenutno postoji autor sposoban da isporuči film od 160 minuta, sporog tempa, a ovako intenzivan i postojan.

Nema zemlje ni za dobrog Samardžićanina...ministra za..ehm, uglavnom ništa pošto mu je Riker zabranio ulazak na KiM jer je prethodnih nedelju dana sejao zapaljive izjave i huškao Srbe da izazivaju nerede. Jedna bahatost i neodgovornost raspukla se kao mehur od sapunice pred golom činjenicom da nemaju pokriće ni u čemu. Molim da se građaninu Samardžiću više ne isplaćuje plata...ili da se pokrenu ministarstva za SAD, Rusiju, Kinu, Francusku, Veliku Britaniju, Nemačku...zemlje od kojih možemo imati mnogo više koristi od ove od skora nezavisne, ali vrlo siromašne i neperspektivne državice.

p.s. apdejt je neophodan...Samardžić se ipak dokopao Kosova...Riker se obrukao jer se nije držao onoga što je najavio. Samardžić ne može da se obruka jer je ministar nečega za šta mora da traži dozvolu...otprilike kao kada bi Šutanovcu trebala dozvola da uđe u Generalštab.

11 коментара:

POWDERFINGER је рекао...

bravo bevc ti si jedini koji je ovo rekao za bracu koen, sokirao sam se kad se zavrsio no country... prvo taj antiklimaks je ipak upropastio inace sasvim dobar film ali film godine...!? cemu lik vudija harelsona cemu nagli prekid sa pracenjem josha brolina cemu onaj monolog na kraju? pa bice krvi je remek delo za ovo, mada je i punch drunk love malo neshvacen i lose primljen ovo je andersonov vrhunac! d.de luis je neverovatan, ogavan lik koji potpuno ispunjava dv i po sata! mislim da je in the valley of elah podcenjen ove godine a opet je bolji od haggisovog crasha, sve se ponavlja napravis remek delo nema nagrade pa se iskupe za losiji film. mada ovako na prvi pogled tilda svinton nosi nagradu potpuno zasluzeno jos jedan jeziv lik i jos jedna sjajna glumica......

Olja је рекао...

ali 'najveci jadnik' pored fotke, u onom kontextu, ha ha ha:)

Ivan Bevc је рекао...

Tja, jadnici su i ovi iz UNMIK-a jer su ga ipak pustili...procenili ljudi valjda da je bolje da se ne inate oko gluposti...ali ja ga ne bih pustio nikada.

coca је рекао...


Daniel Plainview (Daniel Day Lewis) taps an ocean of oil in Little Boston, California, in 1911. But his moment of glory is marred by a feud with an evangelical preacher, Eli Sunday (Paul Dano), and an accident that deprives his adopted son HW of hearing. Daniel spurns the child, opening up to Henry (Kevin J O'Connor), his long lost brother instead...

Paul Thomas Anderson has been an audacious talent from the first. He's one of those rare young American filmmakers not afraid to call himself an artist and claim the privileges bestowed by authorship: final cut, for instance... and the right to fall on your face if you have to. Anyone who values hubris and exuberance has to warm to PTA, but at the same time it's obvious that he hasn't always found a narrative framework to support his sprawling canvases; the profundity to match his precocity. That is, until now.

His first film since Punch Drunk Love in 2002, There Will Be Blood is a massive leap forward; a bone fide American epic that seems to have been carved out of the very earth. It's built around a magnificent performance from Daniel Day Lewis - arguably the pinnacle of his career - as Daniel Plainview, a prospector turned oilman in the early days of the twentieth century, a pioneer capitalist and the quintessential self-made man.

Spanning the period from 1898 to 1928, but largely set in southern California before WWI, the movie is structured as a slow reveal, beginning with Daniel (in anything but plain view) toiling with a pickaxe in a mineshaft, and ending on an unforgettable image of a man spent, exhausted, empty and alone.

It's not much of a spoiler to say things end badly: the ominous tone is set from the first notes of Radiohead's Jonny Greenwood's unsettling score, a discordant orchestral piece influenced by Polish composer Krzysztof Penderecki, whose music haunted The Exorcist and The Shining.

The violence promised in the title erupts from nature herself. Strikes and gushers lash out in accidents that smack of retribution, claiming several men before we've even heard a word spoken (the first quarter of an hour is entirely speechless). But violence is also bottled up deep in Plainview, a driven, obsessive entrepreneur who calculates his words for maximum profit and keeps a tally in his head.

What measure of man is this? Initially we may admire his acumen and zeal. He adopts the orphaned son of a colleague and brings him up as his own. Day-Lewis affects a shewd, eminently respectable demeanour. His voice rich and seasoned (and sounding echoes of John Huston's Noah Cross in Chinatown), Plainview pitches the common good, schools and churches. It's true he seizes opportunity ruthlessly when it comes, but he brings prosperity in his wake.

It's only when he takes the Almighty for an enemy (in the person of Paul Dano's evangelical preacher Eli Sunday) that we begin to realise the extent to which he's motivated by rancour and pride. "I have a competition in me," he will admit in a fleeting moment of candor with his brother Henry (Kevin J O'Connor). "I want no one else to succeed... I hate most people."
Money and religion: these are grand themes, twin pillars of civilization, and Anderson maps them with a surveyor's meticulous patience and precision. Taking its cue from Upton Sinclair's novel "Oil!" (but soon going its own way), this is a film about the foundation of the American century, the oil boom that would propel the first among nations. Over the course of two and a half hours we learn much about the process by which this vast resource was reaped. Nor is it any coincidence that the climax is reserved for 1928, the very verge of the Crash - any more than it's a coincidence this great, monumental movie should emerge now, as the fag-end of the Oil Age slouches onto the horizon.

The breadth of vision is impressive, but the lean, stark filmmaking more so: for all its turbulent, troubling undercurrents, this is also Anderson's most classical movie, a work that seems pinned to a number of illustrious forebears: Giant, certainly, but Citizen Kane more importantly; Chinatown; Eureka and von Stroheim's Greed. To these we might add two more John Huston films: The Treasure of Sierra Madre and Wise Blood.

And then there's family, as there always is in Anderson's films, even if blood relatives are regularly supplanted by surrogates. Not that these relationships are any more sustaining in the long run: fathers and father figures invariably fail their sons and daughters, just as children are doomed to disappoint their parents and mentors.

Rejection; alienation; anger - this is what fires Anderson, and never more ferociously than here. He unleashes scenes of madness and psychosis, such savage and extreme black comedy - Daniel's baptism - that the movie finally teeters on the edge of disaster. (There must be something of Daniel Plainview in PTA, to be able to get under the skin of such a monster.) God and mammon get such a thorough thrashing, it's practically sadistic.

And yet for all the sins we witness in There Will Be Blood - they include blasphemy, theft and murder - the most shocking incident is this one: when Daniel takes the young son who is not his flesh but who he has come to love - the boy loves him, at least - and abandons him to his fortune. It's a wretched betrayal disguised as a kindness, and he acts more than anything out of embarrassment. Perhaps it's at this moment that Daniel starts to hate himself. His fate is sealed.


coca је рекао...

i no country


West Texas, 1980. Antelope hunting out near the Rio Grande, Llewelyn Moss stumbles across a drug deal gone wrong. There's bodies everywhere, a truck full of heroin and $2.4 million in a satchel. Taking the money, Moss sets in motion a series of events that will change everything. After all, when money goes missing on the Tex-Mex border someone, inevitably, is going to want it back.

You'll find Sanderson roughly halfway between El Paso and San Antonio on Highway 90, the population at last count being 861. It's possible you're already familiar with Sanderson, or at least places like it; fictionalised versions of this kind of fly-blown Texas town have been the go-to location for bloody border fracas and other violent misdemeanours in countless crime novels and movies. As such, you could be forgiven for thinking that pretty much all of those 861 folks living in Sanderson are either drug dealers, psychopaths or hitmen.

Sanderson is the setting for Cormac McCarthy's 2005 novel, No Country For Old Men, a tense, stripped-down thriller that's here been adapted and directed brilliantly by the Coen brothers. Coming off a disappointing run of movies, culminating in the dreary remake of The Ladykillers in 2004, No Country For Old Men partly calls to mind the Coens' grim, unforgiving debut, Blood Simple, another noir-ish story about greed and murder in, er, a small Texas town.

We meet Llewelyn Moss (Brodin), a Vietnam veteran who's served two tours in-country, hunting antelope out on the mesa. He stumbles across several bodies, three trucks and a case full of money. He takes the money. Certainly it'll help him and his wife Carla Jean (Kelly Macdonald) move out of the Desert Aire trailer park and set them on their way to a new life. But Moss knows, too, that men will be coming after him, probably with murder in mind. Brolin, who's recently given fine performances in Robert Rodriguez' Planet Terror and Ridley Scott's American Gangster, has Moss pegged as a fundamentally good man, but who, crucially, isn't quite as smart as he thinks he is.

Principally, what Moss doesn't count on is that the man sent to recover the money is Anton Chigurh (Bardem), an appallingly perverse sociopath whose preferred instrument of death is a pneumatic prod made for slaughtering cattle. Bardem's Chigurh, sporting an absurd, baroque hairstyle, is a typically McCarthyesque force of evil, operating some considerable way beyond the natural order. "He's a peculiar man," rival hitman Carson Wells (Woody Harrelson) explains to Moss. "You could even say that he has principles. Principles that transcend money or drugs or anything like that. He's not like you. He's not even like me."

Chigurh is as relentless in his pursuit of Moss as, say, Al Lettieri's terrifying Rudy Butler was of Doc and Carol McCoy in Peckinpah's film of The Getaway. You can't imagine Moss has crossed too many people like Chigurh before, even during his time in South East Asia. Neither has taciturn County Sheriff Ed Tom Bell (Jones, the perfect fit for any number of characters in a McCarthy novel), who's following Chigurh's trail of carnage and hopes to save Moss from some similarly gruesome fate. "Old age flattens a man," Bell says, and one reading of McCarthy's title is that the modern world has no place for men like the sheriff, whose principles and rules of conduct are obsolete when confronted with men like Anton Chigurh. Another could be that very few people in McCarthy's novels ever make it to the end of their natural lifespan, their journey to the grave hastened by men like Anton Chigurh.

The pairing of McCarthy and the Coens works surprisingly well. McCarthy's novels, usually full of grotesque and depraved monsters prone to outbursts of extraordinary violence, don't immediately suggest themselves as potential movies-in-waiting. But the characters and narrative of No Country For Old Men are so cinematically familiar that the Coens can stick admirably close to the novel and still deliver a great film that sits comfortably alongside their best. In fact, the way violence impacts on a remote, peaceful community in No Country For Old Men echoes events in Fargo, and you can draw parallels between sheriff Bell and Brainerd's pregnant police chief Marge Gunderson, both of whom are trying to comprehend the grim horrors creeping across the county line.

McCarthy's sparse dialogue also dovetails perfectly with the Coens' wintry humour.

"It's a mess, ain't it Sheriff?" Asks a deputy when he and Bell first come across the corpses and burned out SUVs in the desert.
"If it ain't it'll do till a mess gets here," replies Bell.

After the arch pastiches of their recent films, it's something of a relief to find the Coens playing it fairly straight here. But, astonishingly, for directors who tend to offer some sliver of optimism even in their most downbeat films, the Coens are prepared to run with the bleak conclusion McCarthy draws in his novel. That is, as Chigurh pursues Moss through a series of run down motels and across the Tex-Mex border into increasingly bloody circumstance, the harsh acknowledgment that there's no mercy, compassion or forgiveness to be found in an increasingly godless and heartless nation.

"I always thought when I got older that God would sort of come into my life in some way," says Bell.
"He didn't."


Анониман је рекао...

D.D. Lewis je odličan. Zao je i pokvaren do srži. Kakva gluma...

Što se tiče No country, nije mi jasan ni onaj san, niti onaj tip u prikolici koji priča o nečijem ujaku (?) niti oni meksikanci koji su se na kraju niodakle pojavili, ni čitava pojava Woody-a Harrelsona. Havijer je dobar kao psihopata, jedino to. Radnja pobrkana, možda je potrebno odgledati film više puta?

coca је рекао...

ili procitati roman:

Cormac McCarthy
'No country for Old Men'

inace, oscar je braci i dodeljen zbog minulog rada. akademija cesto poseze za takvim 'ispravkama' bivsih nepravdi. to, tamo, u holivudu niko i ne krije. to je vise - you deserved one, bros.

sancho pansa је рекао...

pored glume Danijel-Dej Luisa i fotografije film stvarno nije zasluzio nikakve nagrade jer je prica imala toliko potencijala da bude klasik koji moze da stane rame uz rame sa kumom i tako tim filmovima ali je reditelj iz meni neki nepoznatih razloga odluchio da pricu zavrsi u trenutku kada smo svi ocekivali da se neshto desi...neka eksplozija(ne bukvalno) ali smo uskraceni za to(ili sam barem ja)...to je kao da gledate bokserski mec gde bokser mlati svog protivnika ceo mec i na kraju bas jegovog protivnika proglase za pobednika...mada bi to izazvalo jace emocije nego kraj filma "bice krvi"... bash shteta, toliko potencijala a na kraju nishta...
kao kad bacite petardu i ocekujete da ona pukne a ono nishta...corak... eto to je moje misljenje, zaista sam mnogo ocekivao i ceo film me je navlacio na to da ocekujem nesto maestralno na kraju i na kraju nishta... kao da su reditelju uleteli na set negde posle 80% snimljenog materijala i rekli imash 2sata da zavrsish snimanje filma...
Shto se tice brace Koen mogu sam da kazem da bi im ja dao oskara za njihov prvi film (blood simple) i eventualno za "Covek koji nije bio tamo". Ovim ostalim stvarima nisam odusevljen...cak shta vishe malo sam i razocaran(fargo spada u tu grupu)...

S је рекао...

Bice krvi nije nista posebno, moze da se pogleda al zaista nista posebno. Nema zemlje za starce mi djeluje jos gore. Mene je fasciniralo koliko su drugi filmovi koje na festu pogledah bolji.
4 nedjelje, 3 mjeseca i 2 dana jedno 25 puta, Posjeta orkestra nekih 50 puta a 12 najmanje 100 puta :D
Evropa sije SAD za nekoliko svjetlosnih godina

Анониман је рекао...

Slazem se da su ostali filmovi Koena za klasu ispred ovog ali da ne postoji autor sposoban da isporuči film od 160min, sporog tempa,a intenzivan i postojan se ne slazem. Kada to kazem alaudiram na Herzoga,Larsa fon Trira,Wendersa a na pamer mi je padao i matori Ken Russell. Sve u svemu Evropski film mi je bio uvek blizi od Holivuda.


Ivan Bevc је рекао...

S, nisam gledao dva filma koja si naveo ali sam cuo dosta toga dobrog o njima. Steta sto ce tesko biti jos prilike da se vide u bioskopima...a u stara dobra vremena RTV Beograd je odmah posle Festa emitovao dobre art filmove, evropske i azijske koji nisu imali komercijalni potencijal za bioskope.

Memento...autorima koje si spomenuo svaka cast, ali za ono sto su radili pre dve ili tri decenije. Danas su blede senke samih sebe.