An Indie Fair

The Imaginarium of Dr Parnassus - Heath Ledger's last film. Not Terry Gilliam's best, but I could say it's his most imaginative. It revolves around a device bringing imaginations to life, so that's obvious. But what often happens when a story opens the door to no limits, the story looses control. Fiction thrives on rules, and sometimes when those are thrown out, you throw out some of the audience's connection and thus interest. That wasn't so much the problem here, though. The problem was that some of the details of the production were lacking, some out of the director's control, (i.e. the lead actor's death). Others, like casting Vern Troyer or Mini-Me fame, were in his control. We can see since Austin Powers why he was mute in those films. Whenever he opens his mouth he butchers even the best dialogue. Some of the best lines of the film are written for the character, but are either overshadowed by the superior actors or are just flat out spoken with no acting experience whatsoever. Terry Gilliam loves little people, but there just must have been a way around getting the tiniest actor around. Just go for a normal midget! (Is that an oxymoron?)
All in all, I actually liked the film. Gilliam's style showered through the trite story and bad acting to bring his imagination to full CG mode. Watch out world, Terry Gilliam has discovered computer graphics!

Metropolitan - This was on SDSU's recommended viewing list, which I will be journeying through for the rest of the summer. It's kind of a tiny touchstone independent film from 1990. It didn't make the same waves as Reservoir Dogs or Eraserhead did, but I can see some of it's influence in later 90's indie films. The film focuses on a group on young Manhattan socialites, home for Winter Break, during the Debutant Season. The group befriends an outsider named Tom, not a "urban haute bourgeoisie," as Charlie, one of the members of the group coins for their social status. For most of the film, the group gathers after the debutant dances at one of the groups parent's apartments. The parents are never shown, except Tom's mother. Through every scene there are only two topics usually: some philosophical debate about social status in America (where the "UHB" term comes from) or discussing group dynamics and bad mouthing other socialites not present. Usually the debates center around Charlie, who brings up some topic after another person uses a phrase or casually mentions something, then Tom is forced to counter. But sometimes the scenes start in the middle of Charlie's musing about the state of American elite, or the neglected notion that in America it's just as easy to be "downwardly mobile."
For some reason, the film is interesting. I couldn't put my finger on why, though the fact that I was conscious of that may tell something to the film's sustainability. Even though the dialogue and scene structures seemed off the mark, the things the characters said was fascinating enough to be able to overlook the slow pace and lack of plot. The plot of film, which basically follows Tom on a sort of quest of discovery, takes a backseat to the conversations and after party scenes. He keeps being paired up with Audrey, who is like the spitting image/personality of Molly Ringwold, only dark haired. Tom is middle class, and he's been "invited" by this group of upper-class young adults to join them. It's as if, he's getting the call to be "upwardly mobile." But he's reserved about it, and for good reason. The ties that bind the group fall apart, leaving to Tom to see if any of the friendships have stuck. Indeed, the best does, with Charlie. As the group is breaking apart, going back to normal routines, Charlie goes on a journey to get Audrey, who it seems Tom finally realizes they are a good match. They have to get to the Hamptons, where's she's staying with some people at a total douche's house. Neither Tom nor Charlie have licenses, and must take a taxi all the way out there. Through that, they muse about their inability to rent a car (a very basic and everyday sort of thing they point out) and that that may be a sign of sliding downward.
Comparing this to Noah Baumbach's films, especially Kicking and Screaming, about a group of college-aged young adults, this film is very comparable. However, the dialogue is so much smarter and interesting. Even if in Metropolitan the dialogue seems unrealistic at times, at least what they're saying is deeper and has some social commentary.

Eraserhead - This is the film that brought David Lynch to the world, and actually it's the first film of his I've ever seen. I've seen parts of Dune and episodes of Twin Peaks, but never have I seen something of his entirely. And let me say, even seeing it entirely, I felt like I was only catching half the movie. The different scenes and segments bounce around that's hard to tell what's a dream or how much time has passed at all. Most of what you see on screen could just be a part of a bad dream, from the mutant baby to the lady singing in the radiator.
I don't mind ethereal images and scenes, but this tilted a tad too much into the unintelligible. The film was a little too dreamlike to matter. It keeps your interest, but even when the tension rises from an ugly or dreadful image you are so detached from what's happening all that's keeping your interest is curiosity.
Like Dr Parnassus, Eraserhead is running wild with it's director's imagination, only here Lynch is using the images to make the audience uncomfortable and feel the dread that the main character is being pulled through. But it seems like it isn't working because Henry is never really frightened, only barely tense at times. He was like The Tramp lost in a surreal industrial world, hardly speaking and just wandering from place to place.
Maybe he was being controlled by the man on the planet pulling levers, or maybe just being taken over by weird flagella. Who knows, and David Lynch won't ever reveal the true meaning. The meaning aside, Lynch has managed to build a weird world littered with unexplainable symbolism that cuts to the heart of dread and turmoil without ever putting his main character or the audience in real danger. That takes true mastery of the art of cinema, and this film falls squarely in the art category.