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METROPOLIS

Despite the recent shooting of innocent moviegoes at the Dark Knight premiere in Aurora, Colorado, I was still willing to see the film when invited by a friend. Yes, I found the incident random and horrifying, but at the time little was known about the killer's motives. I was thinking, a crowded confined space is what it is. The nature of the film is just coincidence. It was only in sitting through the movie's first few minutes that I began to recognize the creepy violence of this series and coincidence began to seem more like causation.

Officially, the new Spiderman film also has a new name-- "The Amazing Spider-Man"-- separating it from its predecessors. Personally, though, I anticipate it being remembered as the Andrew Garfield Spiderman. The plot and aesthetics of this version differ in no discernible way-- it is only the actors' unique interpretations of their characters that make it a film worthy of a trip to the local cineplex.

Watching tourists walk around Times Square, you can see them looking around in a big mass of fanny-packed confusion for an actual New York resident. The sad truth of it is that Manhattanites are simply too cool to hang on the streets. In the winter, they hole up in the contaminated warmth of subway stops or, preferably, in cozy corner cafes. And now that it's summer you certainly won't find them blindly searching through their sweat for the nearest Duane Reade. No, the people of the city have taken to the roofs; there is really no reason for them to leave these cool, concrete heights, up there you can find everything you need: art, gardens, restaurants. Moreover, the roof is a unique experience in that it possesses the hard-to-find combination of being both scenic and illicit. An excellent example of this phenomenon in the Rooftop Films festival, gracing the city's roofs every summer.

As my first year at Barnard draws to an end, I increasingly find that my peers and I have adopted the habit of feminist critique. A bit bored on the subway, I find myself pulling it out like I did my Gameboy in the fourth grade: "God, that woman's outfit is so offensive, 'Juicy' right across the butt. It's because of women like her that it took us 70 years to get the vote.

"The Hours" is kind of a mixed bag - alternately dreary and glorious, thoughtful and overtly sentimental, but it's a movie I'd recommend to most people, if you're into the mystery of the feminine psyche and all that. But the visuals are splendidddd and the costumes are no exception. I for one really loved the simplicity and dreaminess of the Woolf-period.


I call this "wispy elegance". Love the slightly disheveled chignon, the askew necklace, the brooch, and the orange drop earrings. Everything is so subliminal and adds to the look of the character, never taking away from Nicole Kidman's hypnotic gaze. Colors of pink and orange highlight her English-rose complexion.


Terrence Malick is a name you should know, because even if you haven't seen any of his movies ("Thin Red Line", "Badlands", "The New World"), his name will come in handy if you ever find yourself in the midst of cinephiles and feel the need to sound culturally highbrow, just say "Malick. I like Terrence Malick a lot", and all the aesthetes will murmur in agreement and look upon you favorably.

Lars Von Trier is, for those unfamiliar with him, another filmmaker who carries a lot of cred in the cinematic circles, and whether he's a misogynistic sadist or the most visually distinctive and visionary director of our time, it's considered super chill to bring up his name in any film conversation.

ANYWAY. "Tree of Life" and "Melancholia" are beyond doubt, the two most anticipated movies for a good majority of cinephiles. It's really a Very Big Deal. The trailer for Malick's "The Tree of Life" was released several months ago, and once the internet got over its collective visualgasm, the trailer for Lars Von Trier's "Melancholia" came out. What struck everyone right away was 1) how much the trailers perfectly represented the heart and style of their respective directors and 2) how much thematic content of the two movies seem to complement each other. They're like twins, with "Melancholia" being the evil twin/dark counterpart and "Tree of Life" its sunny, shiny, good half.

Watch the trailers below. One after the other. It doesn't matter which order. Afterwards, eat something like a cookie, just so you can enjoy an act that is concrete and simple, the polar opposite of any Malick/Von Trier movie.


While filmmaking is a massively collaborative endeavor, there are some remarkable individual performances by enormously talented actors which can largely determine the audience's experience of the whole work.  Javier Bardem gives such a performance in Alejandro Inarritu's film, Biutiful, and that gets as close as would be possible to saving this irredeemably flawed film.  

Biutiful carries us into a grim world inhabited by undocumented workers struggling to survive in contemporary Barcelona.  The cinematography renders the world with a convincing, gritty realism, and the desperate circumstances of the characters unfold with a brutal, directness. Bardem portrays Uxbal, a small time criminal, working in the pay of a Chinese underworld figure, marketing the exploitation of undocumented Senegalese and Chinese laborers. It goes without saying that this system has devastating effects on the lives of the all the workers and their families, and no one can be surprised when this leads to a catastrophic, lethal event; a horror for which Uxbal is at least partly responsible.  


The Beginning:
Reader, I am a fan. On Friday night, when I should have been drilling political science theories into my resistant mind, I went to see Jane Eyre. It was not so much a matter of whether or not I had time (who does in college?). It was more about how many of my Jane-Eyre-loving friends could come with me.

I ended up going with two other lovers of 19th century novels, one of them an avid fan of Jane Eyre, with high expectations and whole chapters memorized. I promised her that if she said lines along with the actors, as she warned that she would, I would create a buffer between us (in the form of our third friend). I dreaded hearing Rochester’s declaration of love suddenly develop an undertone of femininity from the voice next to me. I did not carry through with the plan. As the seating arrangement went, my friend made endearing gasps and chest clutches throughout, while an older lady next to me showed some matured version of that same reaction (which manifested itself in orders to her husband to take back the popcorn and shushes all around.)

A "look." That's something that every girl in the world becomes obsessed with sooner or later. A signature style that symbolizes "you," that somehow exudes your personality to the rest of the world.

We all draw on different influences, but I for one wish that I could just invent my own signature style and not think "my god, I want that exact look" and copy every awesome look I see. It's something we all fall prey too.

But it's a tricky and often misguided process. The iconic picture of Audrey Hepburn in her slinky little black dress isn't iconic just because the dress is gorgeous. Beauty isn’t special. Audrey’s inimitable dash of je ne sais quoi make that look special. That charismatic, aloof quality, of relaxed elegance and comfort is what we're actually striving for. That's the difference between true style and fashion.

And today, I’d like to present one of my favorite stylish movie characters:

Gwyneth Paltrow as Margot Tenenbaum from The Royal Tenenbaums:

Her signature look...

I can't say very much for the classic Woody Allen film. Short jewish men kvetching about their life has always seemed a bit close to home for my tastes. I did, however, quite enjoy Vicky Christina Barcelona. Beautiful city, beautiful people, sex, love, lies, and violence; it had the whole package. Allen's upcoming film, Midnight in Paris, offers much of the same fare. The plot, which will probably not amount to much more than the designation "romantic comedy," will no doubt be secondary to the heart attack-inducing trio of Rachel McAdams, Carla Bruni, and Marion Cotillard. These lovely ladies will be accompanied by the charming Owen Wilson and the ever-appealing Adrien Brody. Le film Midnight in Paris sort le 11 mai. A ne pas rater!