Sound of Noise

2010 new favorite movie

Rating: 17/20

Plot: A group of percussion terrorists perform a musical composition in four movements. A detective, the tone-deaf brother of a famous conductor, tries to stop catch them.

I just stumbled upon this, found it to be one of the most joyous movie occasions in recent memory, and then discovered that they have some digital fame with something you probably need to find on Youtube called Music for One Apartment and Six Musicians, which is not only even better than this full-length feature but which realistically might be my favorite thing I have ever watched. Excuse the hyperbole, but it seemed like Scandinavia made this just for me. The music is exhilarating, starting with a short piece in a speeding van that led to fist-pumping and uncontrollable urination. The movements are as humorous as they are cleverly composed and wildly creative. The bits are funny. I loved the "Nobody move--this is a gig" stick-up with a metronome, and the titles of the movements (e.g. "Doctor Doctor, Gimme Gas in My Ass" made me smile. And one scene in which the detective Peter-Townsends a bunch of instruments was ridiculously beautiful. One gets the sense that nobody involved in the making of this gave a damn about the plot, one that is really pretty thin anyway, or the love story subplot but instead just wanted an excuse to use surgery patients, a bank, large clunky vehicles, and electric wires to make as much exquisite noise as humanly possible. There's a bit of satire here maybe--I'm remembering a naked painted man--but for the most part, this is silly fun--musical mayhem that would appeal to fans of those Stomp dudes or playful experimental music with a sliver of a love story and a police vs. terrorists conflict mixed in.

Seriously, if you don't want to take the chance with the full-length feature, take a gander at that Youtube video. And thank me later. Well, unless you've already seen it. Then, you owe me nothing.

You, the Living Redux

2007 Roy Andersson movie

Rating: 18/20 (Mark: 16/20)

I watched this movie again, this time with my brother. He gave it a 16/20 after I told him it was a 17/20. Turns out that I gave it an 18/20, so I'll stick with that. My favorite movies are the ones that look crafted, like somebody didn't just care about the movie as a whole but every single thing that the audience will see or hear in the movie; the ones that look like they belong in museums; the ones made by auteurs, those that are not just movies but movies that you've never seen before; and movies that make me want to laugh and cry at the same time. I've seen this twice and still don't know completely what it's about. Throwing labels at it or trying to describe what it's about doesn't seem all that appropriate. And answering "What's this movie about anyway?" with "It's about life" doesn't make much sense. There's a lot of humanity in these 50 or so vignettes. How somebody unpacks messages from You, the Living will likely be based on his own experiences and feelings about humanity. You should watch it because it's a treat.

After we watched this movie, I had a vanilla milkshake and enjoyed every ounce of it.

The Virgin Spring

1969 feel-good movie

Rating: 18/20

Plot: Based on a Swedish folktale and set during medieval times, this is the story of a family who sends the daughter and a surly maid to light some candles only to have the daughter raped and murdered by forest thugs. Soon afterward, her parents meet their daughter's attackers face to face and have a decision to make.

According to a guy named Daniel Ekeroth who wrote a book called A Clandestine History of Sex, Thrillers, and Kicker Cinema, John Waters says this is the first movie to show a character vomiting. He'd probably know! You almost have to give the movie a bonus point for that, right? This movie had me at the surly maid with her break frog surprises and the way she plucks chicken feathers. It's really kind of hot. This movie does such a good job at creating tension. Bergman shows us a smoke hole, a leather satchel, a butcher knife lodged in a tabletop, trees--nothing anybody would notice or think twice about--with this focus that makes them seem the like the most ominous things a person can be shown. There's such a sadness and a beauty to many of these shots--tree dust like falling snow as the boy contemplates the crime and vomits up break, the poetic wrestling match between a man and a tree. Bergman's imagery always seems to be simple but profound, and the stuff in this is no exception. Then of course you've got a pair of scenes of violence, shocking not because there's anything flashily gruesome about them but because they're just so realistic, so blunt. Almost thankfully, there's some oddness in this that gives this that folk tale feel to remind you that you're just watching a movie. Rapists with jaw harps, another sans tongue, a one-eyed guy who likes to show off his collection of severed fingers. Also, this has the absolute worst bedtime story teller in the history of bedtime stories. There were two other things I really liked about this one. First, I like the furniture in medieval Sweden, all the those clunky doors, the one-eyed guy's "seat of honor," bulky tables. And also, this might have some of the best dialogue I've read in a movie in a long time, a scene involving a gift of clothing that is filled with such juicy double meanings that I just had to watch it again. This isn't exactly easy viewing, but there's a quiet beauty and reflective tone that makes it pretty brilliant.

The Phantom Carriage

1921 drama

Rating: 16/20

Plot: According to legend, the last person who dies during a calendar year is required to drive the titular carriage to pick up dead souls for the next calendar year. That person looks to be David Holm, a drunken jackass who, for reasons that aren't explained immediately, a dying Salvation Army soldier is asking to see. Holm's old friend, the current phantom carriage driver, takes his disembodied soul on a journey through his sins.

A bit A Christmas Carol or It's a Wonderful Life, this funky little tale of regret and redemption was hugely influential on fellow Swede Ingmar Bergman who was quoted as saying "The Phantom Carriage is the best motherfucking movie I've ever seen. It's my generation's The Bad News Bears." Some of it just looks like a slow silent drama, and I don't really like my silent films this "talky" with a dependency on title cards to tell the story. Like most silent movies, this one is most effective when the visuals are allowed to tell the whole story. However, the imagery and special effects, eerie double exposure shots, make this a haunting and, by the end, emotional experience. I really liked the acting. The guy who played Holm overdid it at times with some exaggerated laughing or arm-flailing, but for the most part, this didn't look like 1920's silent melodrama acting at all. And the story telling seemed really ahead of its time with its use of flashbacks and even flashbacks-within-flashbacks that had me scrambling for a plot synopsis to make sure I was keeping up. I've read that people hate some of the music in different releases of this, but I liked the music in this--all scratchy violins and ambient noises. And if you like movies where crazy guys are killing doors with axes like Jack in The Shining, this might have the first on-screen ax-to-door scene in movie history.

The little kid inside me loves that Swedish films end with the word slut.

Hour of the Wolf

1968 Ingmar Bergman horror movie

Rating: 17/20

Plot: Troubled artist Johan shacks up with girlfriend Alma on bleak island. His insomnia worsens as his past haunts him and the other inhabitants of the island pay him visits. A 216-year-old woman tells Alma to read Johan's diary, and after she does, she realizes how tormented he is.

The most baffling thing about this baffling little gem is that the title screen doesn't appear until forty-seven minutes into the movie. This isn't your traditional horror flick. It's more disorienting than scary, more surreal than terrifying. And although there aren't monsters or ghosts roaming the island our protagonists are staying, it just doesn't feel like the other inhabitants of the island are entirely human. This is a movie that seems like it takes place not just in the subconscious but in the subconscious of a ghost. It's a stark glimpse at a mentally-disturbed mind, one troubled by a past we only get some peeks at. The artist's female companion is along for the ride, and the story unfolds in a way that puts us in her shoes. Put Hour of the Wolf in that category of movies that you feel more than you comprehend. And although it isn't traditionally scary, it is something I'd avoid watching alone at night. The brooding atmosphere, the way Bergman makes this expansive island with a sky that never ends feel claustrophobic and suffocating, the haunting imagery during the encounter with a boy on a rocky shore or the desolate castle corridors, the insane scene with the woman taking off her hat. Nightmare time, kids! This is thick with typical Bergman symbolism and has a sleepy structure, but it's well worth attempting to unwrap. Even without any werewolves in sight.

You, the Living

2007 comedy

Rating: 18/20

Plot: A collection of despairing people wade through the absurdity of every day life. Sometimes, they dream.

Now here's a hilarious zombie movie! There's no traditional narrative here, so this would likely frustrate a lot of viewers. But for the sleepy and adventurous, this is a treat. You, the Living is made up of 40-50 vignettes, snippets of lives that will either make you laugh while you feel like crying or cry while you feel like laughing. These barely-connected somnambulistic characters who weave in and out of these abbreviated visual jokes really are like zombies, wandering lifelessly, suffocating under the weight of a gray blanket of despair. But in a hilarious way! The version of humanity that Roy Andersson displays is one whose wooden dance floors have been walked upon by both muddy shoes and muddy feet. And visually? I can't remember a movie I was this impressed by visually. Roy Andersson's camera doesn't move (OK, it does move twice, but only a little bit) during these single-shot snippets. There's very little movement on the screen. In fact, there's a scene where something is boiling on a stove, and the steam rising from the pot almost seems inappropriate, like things are starting to get a little too crazy. But the movie's never boring. Most of that is because Andersson frequently hits you with something entirely unexpected, like a weird-looking character who wanders into the scene. And you can pause this at any time and have something on your television screen that looks like it belongs in a museum, probably one of those museums that would hang up an empty frame and call it art. This is one of my favorite movie experiences in a long time, and if I still took pictures of myself watching movies, you'd get to see a gigantic goofy grin that I had on my face during the entire film. An hilarious ode to hopelessness, a visual essay on life's little ironies, a collection of one-panel comic strips. Hot damn! I loved this movie bunches!

Insomnia

1997 psychological thriller

Rating: 16/20

Plot: There are strange things done in the midnight sun. And one of those strange things north of the Arctic Circle in Norway is an author's murder of a 17-year-old. Swedish Jonas Engstrom and his partner Erik Vik arrive to investigate, but Jonas has to fight to stay sane following a second death, a barking dog, and relentless sunlight.

The detective side of this is overshadowed by the personal drama of the main character, a guy slowly losing his mind because of guilt, an ambiguous past, and his insomnia. And speaking of shadows, it's interesting that the movie is noirish while not having a single scene that takes place at night. No shadows, no gloomy evening. In fact, it's the exact opposite--bright lights, white fog, snow, and blinding morning. It's a good hook. There are a lot of scenes that are very well done in this. An early scene where the police chase the bad guy through the foggy Norwegian landscape is haunting and claustrophobic, and some jerky handheld camera work puts you right into the head of the nervous protagonist. There are lots of other fine, moody scenes. The story itself might be a bit pedestrian although I do like that you've got both a criminal mastermind character and a good guy who sort of has to become a criminal mastermind himself. I like when the good guys and bad guys interact or play little cat-and-mouse games, but the bad guy in this doesn't have all that much personality. Actually, the good guy doesn't either. Maybe that's the point though. Insomnia throws two normal Joes (or Svens) into situations where a few poor decisions tear their worlds to pieces. I've seen the American remake with Al Pacino, Robin Williams, and Hillary Swank. It was a while ago, but even though I thought that movie was pretty good, I think this original tops it.

My Life as a Dog

1985 coming-of-age movie

Rating: 17/20 (Jen: 15/20)

Plot: Ingemar is growing up in 1950's Sweden. His father is gone, somewhere near the equator loading bananas, and his mother is dying. Since Ingemar and his brother do nothing but stress out their poor, sick mother, they are sent to an uncle and grandmother for the summer. Ingemar interacts with the family and the odd assortment of townsfolk, begins to discover sexuality, and learns to cope with death.

Sex and death. That's really what life boils down to, and this movie does such a terrific job of showing the discovery of (and the relationship between) both of them through the eyes of a likable kid. This movie's got some quirks (a neighbor who persistently hammers nails into his roof, an old man who has Ingemar read descriptions of ladies' undergarments from a catalog, the uncle who listens to the same record over and over again while building a tiny circular "summer house" in the backyard) but it's also got a great deal of heart and soul. I'm always amazed when there's a movie, usually a foreign one, with a bunch of child actors who manage not to annoy me. The kids in this are great, their performances resembling children at playtime much more than a bunch of kids being directed and trying their best to act. The frequent connections made to Laika the space dog were problematic for me while watching the movie, but after I had a chance to think about it, I realized how important Laika was as an extended metaphor to hold the episodes in the movie together. Apparently, this was Kurt Vonnegut's favorite movie. It makes me wonder whether this is the type of movie that only Hoosiers would like. I doubt it though. Bittersweet and quiet, this one hits you emotionally, not so much with what the characters say (though there is poignancy there) but with great visuals requiring some reading between the lines. There's something about this that forces you to really focus on every little detail, not because you have to but because you want to. It requires you to pour yourself into the movie as it pours into you. I've had this sitting on the shelf for months now because I figured it would be boring. I'm glad I was so wrong.