Gran Torino

Clint Eastwood stars and directs this low-key film which ranges from sarcastic to sappy and manages to be meaningful without becoming too melodramatic. Gran Torino is the epilogue of the life of Walt Kowalski, played by Eastwood (sort of like a retired Dirty Harry at times) who fought in Korea and worked for forty years at the nearby Ford plant. After his wife died, he begins to connect with the Hmong family living next door and helps them out when they have trouble with a local gang.

At times, the film is not plausible yet the audience enjoyed the film. Walt’s offensive jokes drew laughs, in an “I can’t believe he just said that” sort of way. The plot was perfunctory at times but Eastwood’s performance drew many viewers in. Whether it was lending tools or lending his car - a 1970s mint condition Gran Torino that becomes the focal point of the film - Walt grows as a person, moving from intolerant to accepting to helpful.

Times when Walt mentors his neighbour Tao so that he has the skills to work instead of joining a gang are the highlights of the film, not the clichéd confrontations. It is funny when Walt throws his son out of his house for suggesting a retirement home but the moment when Walt finally opens his mind after seventy years and sees things a in different light makes the film stand out.

The Wrestler

The Wrestler seems to be a series of compelling character studies instead of an amazing story. Mickey Rourke, possibly playing himself - either a washed-up actor or professional boxer - is the centerpiece of the film. Darren Aronofsky’s decision to use hand-held cameras and authentic locations add to the realism of the film but I would have strongly preferred for his screenplay to tie up a few more loose ends. Does Randy “the Ram” die in the ring? Does his daughter forgive him? What about Cassidy the stripper?

“The people who you pass on the way up are the same ones who you will meet on the way down.” Twenty years after main eventing national wrestling events, Randy “the Ram” Robinson finds himself starring in same-time local shows at the American Legion Hall. Randy has trouble finding his identity: he seems to value his action figure and video game persona more than his real self. A dismal failure away from the ring, he decides to focus on what he enjoys: the wrestling ring.

Health problems occur, he becomes closer to a stripper named Cassidy, and he tries to reconnect with his daughter. Randy experiences some success and some disappointment as he approaches a twenty year rematch with his arch-nemesis the Ayatollah. He can’t decide whether to go through with the match or whether to finally call it quits.

I thought that The Wrestler does an excellent job of portraying the wrestlers as real people, with real emotions. A bespectacled Necro Butcher doesn’t want to run the ropes because of his knees; yet in the ring he staples a dollar bill to his forehead. Tommy Rotten and Ron Killings are concerned about reaching the next level; Bob a.ka. the Ayatollah goes from a businessman who owns several used car dealerships to “the Beast from the Middle East” in a matter of moments.

The Killers ask in their new album, “Are we human or are we dancer?” The Wrestler doesn’t answer that question but it does impart the importance of living with yourself and being satisfied with your lifestyle.

It’s a Wonderful Life

The Bloor Cinema held a complimentary screening of It’s a Wonderful Life for members last week; it’s another tribute to what can be done with steady direction, good chemistry between cast members, and a sensible screenplay.

Ranked thirty-second among I.M.D.B.’s top films, I never found it particularly great. At times, it seems to drag. Viewing the film in a full theatre erased some of those complaints as the film really has a lot of humourous lines. Certain scenes may be slightly old-fashioned (the scenes in Slap Shot don’t age well but it’s still an excellent comedy) but the messages that one person’s life touches dozens of other people and that an individual should remain true to their standards and values are still salient.

Older Films

Today, although it is rarely aired on television and rarely screened at cinemas, 12 Angry Men is an excellent film that highlights many of the faults in modern filmmaking (even in modern culture).

The strengths of the film are tremendous performances and a meaningful script. Henry Fonda’s Juror #8 is clear-headed and well-spoken, using salient logical points to make his argument. Other Jurors have superficial biases or deeper internal conflicts and are gradually won over due to a sensible line of reasoning. Thanks to the individual actors, the viewer can see how each member of the jury must deliberate within themselves before the group can render a verdict.

Writer Reginald Rose wrote a compelling script with many intense dialogues between different characters. Questions range from the basic facts to more complicated moral issues. Director Sidney Lumet employs a number of tight-angle shots to show the tension on the jurors’ faces. If remade today, the film would likely fail since it requires the audience to pay attention for more than ninety minutes. The contributions of the actors, Rose, and Lumet make the 1957 film a joy to watch.

Unfortunately, modern media doesn’t have the patience to create an urbane piece of art. Movies and television are repetitive; most films seem to share the same screenplay and reality shows have replaced significant programs. 12 Angry Men - like other older films - is simple but sophisticated. There should always be incentive for artists to take the high road and improve popular culture.

Toronto Stories

Toronto Stories begins with a series of diverse people passing through customs and ends with a wide-angle shot of a homeless man crossing the street and entering the dense maze of downtown. The link between these two diverse scenes (the personalities of the travelers and the soulless nature of the city) is a mysterious boy of unknown origin who does not speak English. Alongside the tapestry of tales of people moving on and doing their best in their different lives, there is a thread that asks how the city would be perceived by a newcomer who knew nothing about Toronto or its citizens.

The myriad of stories is arranged chronologically: two adventurous pre-teens, two stories of young adults in their early and late 20s, and an older homeless man who has been on the ropes since his son died in a swimming accident. The characters showcase the many types of compassion in a large city like Toronto and personify alternate ways of coping with adversity, such as resistance, recovery, or a stubborn refusal to change. Early in the film, the two kids find a homeless person sleeping and think that he is a monster but as the audience gets to know Henry, who seems to be a recalcitrant drug-addict at first, we see that he is a complex person trying to cope with his own tragic.

The writing and performances are uneven, given that the four separate stories have different writers. I thought that the film could have used a fifth story explaining how the boy figured into the equation. At the end of the fourth story, he is able to communicate via an interpreter so it would have been interesting to see him try to settle in Toronto.

There were some loose ends in each story that were not tied up; more contact between the storylines could have created a sense of Six Degrees of Separation, or better displayed the drama occurring in each story. For example, in the first story, a man jumps from a bridge with no apparent explanation. Had the explanation appeared in another story, it would have created a neat relationship.

The film was enjoyable, but not excellent. For example, just off the top of my head: other superior films, such as A History of Violence or No Country for Old Men, feature average everyday characters going about their lives and trying to make a difference.

Doubt

Contradictions and contrasts abound throughout Doubt: good and evil, summer and winter, certainty and doubt. Largely due to the captivating performances of Meryl Streep and Philip Seymour Hoffman, the audience experiences similar opposite emotions. Who is in the right: Streep’s stern Sister Aloysius or Hoffman’s relaxed Father Flynn? As the seasons change, so does the apparent truth.

“What’s this? The wind is so … peripatetic this year,” comments Sister Aloysius early in the film. Later, as Father Flynn arrives in the parish with new ideas, the school principal fights back, criticizing the priest regarding matters ranging from his close relationship with students to his use of a ballpoint pen. Sister Aloysius claims she is certain that Father Flynn has been molesting children, despite the lack of concrete evidence.

The nun’s success in her crusade inspires deeper doubts: Aloysius was forced to lie to force Father Flynn out of the parish and despite his wrong doing (in her eyes), he was promoted in the church. Along with Sister James, Aloysius must confront doubts regarding her faith and purpose in life. It’s not that writer/director John Patrick Shanley encourages viewers to question their existence but his screenplay maintains an atmosphere where nobody is certain, even after the film is finished.

Direction is conservative, repeatedly battering audience members with traditional symbolism, like the weather representing post-Vatican II change in the church and a faulty overhead light signifying the seemingly all-knowing and all-seeing principal. Of course, a traditional film based on a play requires patient blocking and patient cinematography. The peaceful school setting in the middle of bustling New York City is very appropriate.

Doubt relies on a compelling screenplay and charismatic performances to stand out. Hoffman is shown in more widescreen shots, using body language and facial expressions to relate to others. Streep is filmed in tight shots, her body hidden by a traditional habit. She must rely on vocal inflections and her eyes to make a connection with the audience. As mentioned in many revues, she excels. If the rest of the filmed matched the performances of the three principal characters, Doubt would be the best film of 2008.

Player Development, Part II

The Toronto Raptors held a career forum last week at the Air Canada Centre. A panel of various employees represented different aspects of the organization: concessions, sponsorships, ticketing, facilities, and other jobs. Whilst the speakers were genuine in their desire to inspire the many high school students in attendance, they largely failed.

The seminar was a complete contrast from the hullabaloo of an Association game, which was a bit of a surprise, like seeing all the McDonald’s employees in line at Harvey’s in Union Station before the game. The Raptors promised an interactive and interesting event and fell quite short.

The speakers droned on (to a degree) about what they do each game day. The ticketing manager bragged about courtside seats that she had secured for a Torontonian at a Lakers game. When I attended the Raptors-Pacers game later that evening, it became apparent that many students had not attended a live game before. Discussing the luxury services offered by the company furthered the disconnect with their audience.

For example, a video documenting a game day at the A.C.C. would have supplemented the verbal explanations nicely. The footage would have permitted the students to visualize what the speakers described. Also, the speakers did not discuss how they obtained their jobs. The mantra “maybe someday you’ll be up here giving the speeches” was often repeated but few details were given about the education, experiences, and choices required for a career in sports.

In his book, Understanding Media, Marshall McLuhan cites the case of a high school principal in a destitute neighbourhood in New York City who gave each student a photo of themselves. The school also installed multiple mirrors in each classroom. Given the ability to see themselves as they learned, the students increased their academic performance.

The students didn’t believe what the teacher was saying about their habits until they saw it themselves. On the court, a coach may tell a player that he is fundamentally unsound, does not contribute to the team, or makes bad decisions but if this contrasts with the player’s self-image, he won’t buy it. A tirade may have the same effect as giving the player a dissertation to read.

If a player is good enough, and experiences some success - however superficial - they will begin to think of themselves as an excellent player. There are enough cheerleaders and hangers-on to reinforce that view. Why confront the truth, which is negative and entails hours of work to change, when one can look on the bright side.

The level of discourse has generally fallen recently; the successful politician is the one who lowers himself and communicates at the level of the voting public. Likewise, a coach must show the player simply and surely how his performance affects the team, for example using video of games or practices. Chris Bosh may not realize his body language and actions with his mouthguard leaving the huddle Monday night are unprofessional but hopefully he would be regretful if shown the behaviour later.

A player on the Varsity team or an alumnus can serve as a role model for how to get things done. Also, teaching a player how to critically watch the game provides examples of great performances. Encouraging players to develop an athlete’s vision can be a critical component of mental training before games and practices.

Coaches can’t simply demonstrate the drill like it is part of a lecture. They must connect with players so that all team members see themselves executing the skill correctly, in the context of a winning team with good chemistry.

The Class

For teachers, Laurent Cantet’s Palme d’Or winning film, Entre les murs, is a mirror on their daily lives. For others, it’s a window into a public school system that has changed a great deal during the past twenty years.

François Marin teaches the French language to junior high students in the 20th Arrondissement in Paris. Over the course of the year, both teachers and students face many trials and tribulations. At the end, almost everyone admits that they have learned something and they all get along during a staff-student soccer match. However, the year is not a success for all, such as a student expelled for violent behaviour and another who wishes to drop out.

Debates occur frequently: in class, in the staff room, and during meeting. The protagonist must separate François from M. Marin for his own personal health and sanity. The film questions how important decisions are made in schools and whether they best serve the student: how should students be rewarded (and penalized)? Do the needs of the many (the class) outweigh the needs of the few (the student)? Doubt is cast on the relevance of the curriculum and whether anyone really knows anything (“If I claim to be a wise man, it surely means that I don’t know”). Students continually debate the matter of which African country has the best soccer team.

How can teachers best serve students? Youth require some combination of the curriculum, along with communication, critical thinking, analysis, socialization, self-control, organization, and countless other skills. Can it be taught in a single year, or over the course of thirteen years? As the characters find out at the end of the film, there are things more important than what happens between the walls of the classroom.

John Wooden said that teachers should never get angry with students who test them but they should always remain fair and firm. M. Marin does his best but even the best teachers at the school slip from time to time and need help. During the school year, both students and teachers make significant personal improvements.

The film is very realistic, posing as a documentary. It may run a little long but the story successfully creates drama and comedic out of mundane school moments. The screenplay is accurate, depicting many moments that may seem absurd when shown on the big screen but occur daily in school around the globe. The large cast performs very well and the audience develops a rapport with the teachers and the students, even those who disrupt the class. Cantet and writer François Bégaudeau ask relevant questions about the school system and its future direction.

One student struggles with writing but can succeed by communicating in other ways. Unfortunately, due to his self-control problems, he takes a step backwards. After expulsion, it is hoped the student will succeed at his new school but his fate remains unknown.

High and Low

Nothing blew up. Nobody fell off of a roof in Vienna. Numerous scenes unfolded without any dialogue. Yet Akira Kurosawa successfully crafted a film in 1963 that surpasses most modern action films.

The plot revolved around a kidnapping mystery, which was revealed gradually as the villain and his persistent police pursuers matched wits. Scenes with hardly any action were incredibly tense, as a result of the actors’ performances, the film’s pacing, and the simple score. There was a connection between the characters and the audience which made a two and half hour film fly by.

Kingo Gondo, played by Toshiro Mifune, was a wealthy industrialist who was attempting to take over the National Shoes company. His family lived in a luxurious house atop a hill; although they overlooked the city’s slums, there was no empathy for those who toiled below. Gondo prides himself as a tireless executive but it is only when everything is taken from him that he realizes what is really important in life.

Kurosawa’s steady head was critical throughout the film. The story needed to be filmed in black and white in order to juxtapose the decrepit slums with the house on the hill, the air-conditioned comfort of Gondo’s living room with the heat of the summer, and the unselfish act of the protagonist with the sheer evil of the kidnapper -- and the subtle, scheming evil of Gondo’s boardroom colleagues. Colour would have cheapened the contrast and unnecessary music would have clouded the rudimentary soundtrack.

A kidnapper snatches Gondo’s son, only to discover later that it is the chauffeur’s child. The ransom demand would ruin Gondo and he must choose his priorities: save a life and send his family down to the slums or take over the shoe company and acquire greater wealth. During the decision process, blocking highlights Gondo’s insecurities as other characters turn their back to him and remain still. Mifune shows a wide range of emotions and turns Gondo from a despicable corporate figure to a caring family man.

In business life, Gondo would open the doors of his mansion and gaze down at the bustling city. The chaos of a million bustling lives, totally removed from him, seemed to provide solace. After paying the ransom, Gondo begins to take pride in common tasks, such as mowing the lawn in the scorching heat. He loses his house and position but is happy to be president of a small shoe company trying to expand.

High and Low is named after the Japanese term for heaven and hell. The city is a metaphor for these two places: a cool, comfortable house filled with beautiful people above a searing hot, filthy garbage dump filled with drug addicts and criminals. Only an individual, who makes his own decisions, can successfully navigate between the two worlds. Gondo may have lost his visual perspective overlooking the city but he gained a new moral perspective.

Whether Gondo is right is of no consequence. The value of a human life remains highly subjective: the son of a middle-class chauffeur is saved but three drug addicts die and a criminal receives the death sentence. The newspapers are sympathetic to the plight of a wealthy man but shed no tears for the countless victims who live in “Dope Alley.” Gondo realizes that he can’t live life alone but he still chooses with whom he will socialize. The detective takes more satisfaction in outsmarting the kidnapper than preventing the loss of more life. Reality is not black and white but a grey area that evolves constantly.

Another Way to Die

A door left open: Bo Schembechler said “prepare, prepare, prepare.” John Wooden said that “failing to prepare is preparing to fail.” You can’t get upset on the court or in life when you are let down by something you should have foreseen and prepared for.

A woman walking by: In every life, short-term pleasure can’t overcome long-term pain. Treat the source, not the symptoms. Correct the player’s attitude so that they buy-in and become willing to correct their technique.

A man on your side: Another inch of your life sacrificed for your brother. If it impedes productivity, deal with it immediately; otherwise avoid getting caught up in the paperwork. Coaches should remember that they need to get paid too. The team can only go so far. In the hospital, there is plenty of paperwork so you won’t miss it.

A look in the eye: Essentially, John Wooden’s “Pyramid of Success” is nothing but a set of very high standards. If you compromise your own standards, looking at yourself in the mirror every morning becomes the most unbearable part of each day.

A phone on the table: Finding passion on your own is immensely difficult. Not everyone is interested in pushing the boundaries of quality. Finding coaches and players who share the same philosophy is critical.

Someone that you think that you can trust: Undeserved self-satisfaction is the timeless rival of self-actualization. If you are doing something interesting, challenging yourself, why bother? There are so many tiers in sport. Anyone can win a game at some level but not everyone can reach their potential.

Another way to die: Toiling through routine, repeating the same mistakes, wondering why we’re here; we’ve all been in one situation or another. When a person ceases to better themselves, they stagnate and die. Even little steps, made each class, prep period, practice, and game in the hopes of making a substantive change over an entire term or season can forestall a slow and ignominious death.