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METROPOLIS


I don't think much more needs to be said, except that I'm stupid jealous.

            Common adjectives for a documentary might be “interesting,” “informative,” or “stimulating,” but it's not so often that a nonfiction narrative is "explosive." The directors often seem to conform to established filmic patterns rather than using their full creative capacity to really explore their subject. This Ain’t California is an exception to the rule.
            The story, ultimately, is one that has been told before, being at its core a narrative on oppression in East Germany. The way it is related, however, is completely original. Director Martin Persiel explores the small but steadfast clan of skateboarding devotees in the GDR in the 1980s. Their movement, as described by one of the characters, is “the desire for freedom turned lifestyle,” and it’s a bizarre but extreme power this misplaced trend exudes. The film’s story is grounded in the narrative of a small skating troupe, beginning with footage the skaters filmed themselves through their childhood and adolescence. These clips are then complemented with interviews with surviving members conducted by Persiel in the present. The style allows the audience both to experience the raw highs and thrills of surfing a concrete city and then to reflect upon these emotions within their context.
            One might think that so many sources of footage would result in a jumpy or unclear narrative, but instead the patchwork quality, exaggerated to the ultimate effect, only works to the film’s advantage. Not only do the clips come from different time periods, but the forms varies from newsreel, to animation, to stills, to Super 8 footage. This makeshift visual style is the perfect form to fit the story’s function—skateboarding was a departure from convention, and the footage consequently reflects the experimentation of the period.
            The film is clever, and insightful, and beautiful all at once. Not to mention explosive.


Occasionally I hear about something happening in the city that has me wishing I were cool enough to appreciate it--Japanese artist Ryoji Ikeda's the transfinite is probably the perfect example. A visual and sound installation opening at the Park Avenue Armory, the transfinite is math-inspired, massive, and mostly just incredibly cool. It opens today at the 55,000 square foot Wade Thompson Drill Hall (643 Park between 66th and 67th) and will be up through June 11th.  For a cool $10 you too can stand in front of/on these enormous screens and contemplate the place of the digital in the modern world, or just stare mesmerized at some strobes. I mean, making the intellectual beautiful sounds like it's right in line for a great Art History comparison (Rivera's Man at the Crossroads? de Chirico's Song of Love? Just me?) but mostly the idea of a glowing data wall inside some huge steampunk aircraft hangar is just really kick-ass. Any hipsters out there feel like taking me up on this?


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.


The Columbia Science Review, Scientists and Engineers for a Better Society, Postcrypt Art Gallery and CU AMSA have joined forces to organize Through the Looking Glass – an art and science exhibit aimed at exploring these two seemingly disparate fields. With generous funding from the Gatsby Foundation and the P&P Fund,  we aim to break down boundaries and create meaningful interactions between artists, scientists and viewers. The world that we live in is becoming increasingly diverse and interdisciplinary.
 

We hope to take the idea of interdisciplinarity even further, and spark conversation between science and art. Like in last year's exhibit, we plan to bring together a diverse group of media and topics by Columbia students and affiliates. Each one explores scientific imagery and concepts in an attempt to bridge the gap between what we conventionally think of as two separate worlds. The event will take place on April 15th in Wien Lounge 5-7 pm. Refreshments will be served.  Free tickets are available at The Tic and online here.

-Allison Cohen 


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.)

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!