By Matt Duncan
Coastal View News
For some unknown or inexplicable reason, certain people just don’t have any luck. Through no fault of their own, these people simply have to put up with a lot more than others. They work hard but still get fired. They buy roses and giant stuffed animals for Valentine’s Day, only to be broken up with before the flowers are in a vase. However, these people—this unfortunate lot—can at least be grateful in knowing that things could be worse. For instance, they could have dragons chasing them around town on a regular basis. They could have fire nipping at their heals as they attempt to elude those giant winged reptiles.
This is just the kind of thing that the villagers in “How to Train Your Dragon” have to put up with. Luckily, these hardships and their playing out are anything but painful from the audience’s perspective. With the help of great 3-D animation and a fantastic score, “How to Train Your Dragon” more than compensates for its hackneyed plot structure.
The town in which this story is set is a small fishing village. This is a cold, stony, rainy kind of place—the kind of place that could only a thick and hardy kind of people could inhabit. And as if perpetual rain mixed with regular hail were not enough, from time to time, dragons of all shapes and sizes swoop down from the skies; they gobble up sheep and fish, burn houses and barns, and terrorize the locals.
These are the hazards that come with being a Viking. Thus, chief among the many virtues prized by the Vikings of this town is the ability to fight dragons. Stoick (Gerard Butler), an aptly named Viking of giant proportions, is the leader of this village and the best dragon killer in town. His tree-trunk arms and bushy beard reflect the stoutness of his character as well as his merit on the battlefield.
But Stoick has a problem. This problem comes in the form of Stoick’s skinny, stringy, scrawny son, Hiccup (Jay Baruchel). Hiccup wants to fight dragons, but his inability to wield even the merest of battleaxes precludes him from waging war. When the cries of battle rend the night air, Hiccup is either brushed aside or forced indoors.
This routine embarrassment is interrupted one night when Hiccup wanders off during a particularly fierce battle. With the aid of a clever contraption he built, Hiccup manages to shoot down the most dreaded of all dragons, the Night Fury. When Hiccup finds the trapped and injured dragon deep in the woods, he is given the opportunity to become a Viking hero. However, after looking into the eyes of this helpless dragon, Hiccup cannot kill it. Instead, he frees the dragon and in doing so earns the trust of his former foe.
With the villagers none the wiser, Hiccup befriends the dragon (which he names “Toothless”) and nurses it back to health. Toothless, who once seemed to be the devil incarnate, now looks like nothing more than a playful pet—some sort of overgrown Boston Terrier.
However, as time passes, the unfortunate implications of Hiccup’s extracurricular activities become evident. Hiccup must ultimately choose between the acceptance of his people on the one hand and the wellbeing of his new best friend on the other. Hiccup must either find a way to foster harmony between the Vikings and the dragons, or he must watch all those he loves perish.
“How to Train Your Dragon” has a very familiar plotline: Outcast finds unlikely friend. Friend helps outcast earn the respect of others. Others find out about friend. Outcast once again becomes an outcast. Outcast saves the day and unites his friend and others. Nothing new here. Luckily, this movie breathes new life into a tired plot. This is in large part because the animation is breathtaking (finally an animated movie shows what 3-D technology can do!) and the music is wonderful.
The characters in this movie are also endearing, and the story moves at just the right pace. The final battle scene, I am a little embarrassed to admit, sent chills down my spine. So while “How to Train your Dragon” does not show the ingenuity of Pixar films, it is definitely worth seeing.
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
"The White Ribbon"
By: Matt Duncan
Coastal View News
“The White Ribbon” continues a recent (and wonderfully successful) German penchant for producing dark and disturbing historical dramas while also harkening back to great German films of old. Writer and director, Michael Haneke, who is best know for making “Cache” and “Funny Games”, channels legendary filmmaker Ingmar Bergman in this slow-moving but very intriguing movie about innocence, crime and guilt.
Set in a small German town before the start of World War I, “The White Ribbon” opens with a mystery. While riding into his garden after a long day of work, the town doctor’s horse trips over a nearly invisible wire that has been stretched between two trees. As a result, the doctor (Rainer Bock) is catapulted from his horse and ends up breaking his collarbone. The citizens of the town, who are not used to drama of any kind, are perplexed by this sinister prank. Countless men, women and children are questioned, but no culprit is found.
Amidst the uproar, the concern of the townsfolk is diverted when a local woman is killed while at work in the sawmill. This death appears to be no more than an accident, but the woman’s family is inclined to blame the baron (Ulrich Tukur), who transferred the woman to work at the sawmill after she had sustained an injury.
These tragic events arouse the interest of all the denizens of the sleepy town, but none more so than a group of repressed and ornery children. Parents attempt to corral their kids, but find such a task difficult amidst the uproar caused by injury and death. The town’s pastor (Burghart Klaussner) is particularly concerned with the moral education of his children, and so he punishes misbehavior by making two of his children wear a white ribbon. The white ribbon is intended to remind the bearer of purity and is thereby meant to serve as a deterrent from wrongdoing.
Whether or not the white ribbons make a difference for the pastor’s children, the mischievousness that began with the prank on the doctor reaches a new level. What once seemed to be a series of unrelated incidents begins to look like the concerted work of a single mind. Innocence seems to fade from a once peaceful town. Motivated by outrage, anger and a sense of injustice, many prominent citizens of the town—from the baron to the pastor to the town’s schoolteacher (Christian Friedel)—begin to investigate the crimes. But once again, no culprit is forthcoming. This lack of progress is due in part to the fact that each investigator is preoccupied with his or her own affairs and in part to the fact that each investigator has his or her own distinct suspicions. Amidst uncertainty, the entire town is torn between the desire to bring justice to the culprit and the desire to return to normalcy.
“The White Ribbon” is laced with uncertainty and ambiguity from beginning to end. Possible resolutions are as evanescent for the viewer as they are for the townsfolk. This is a fresh and interesting way to make a movie, and it is a device that has come to characterize Haneke’s work. What makes the lack of certainty in “The White Ribbon” particularly interesting is that it is not simply uncertainty for uncertainty’s sake. That is, its ambiguity is not a mere novelty. By the end of this movie, the audience will not only have considered several possible explanations for the story’s events (as have the various characters in the story); they will have also recognized that each possible scenario comes with its own significance and meaning. Were these crimes the work of a particularly sinful and mean-spirited member of the community? Or were they the result of repression—a reaction to religious indoctrination? Or were they ultimately God’s punishment for the sins of the town?
“The White Ribbon” certainly deserves its Academy Award nominations for Best Cinematography and Best Foreign Film. It is intriguing and beautifully shot. The slow pace, black-and-white cinematography, and weighty themes of this movie are reminiscent of (though not quite on par with) the work of Ingmar Bergman, who is famous for movies like “The Seventh Seal,” “Wild Strawberries” and “Winter’s Light”. This movie is not for those who demand action and entertainment, for this movie has demands of its own. “The White Ribbon” requires patience and meditation. Luckily, this movie is worth the effort.
Coastal View News
“The White Ribbon” continues a recent (and wonderfully successful) German penchant for producing dark and disturbing historical dramas while also harkening back to great German films of old. Writer and director, Michael Haneke, who is best know for making “Cache” and “Funny Games”, channels legendary filmmaker Ingmar Bergman in this slow-moving but very intriguing movie about innocence, crime and guilt.
Set in a small German town before the start of World War I, “The White Ribbon” opens with a mystery. While riding into his garden after a long day of work, the town doctor’s horse trips over a nearly invisible wire that has been stretched between two trees. As a result, the doctor (Rainer Bock) is catapulted from his horse and ends up breaking his collarbone. The citizens of the town, who are not used to drama of any kind, are perplexed by this sinister prank. Countless men, women and children are questioned, but no culprit is found.
Amidst the uproar, the concern of the townsfolk is diverted when a local woman is killed while at work in the sawmill. This death appears to be no more than an accident, but the woman’s family is inclined to blame the baron (Ulrich Tukur), who transferred the woman to work at the sawmill after she had sustained an injury.
These tragic events arouse the interest of all the denizens of the sleepy town, but none more so than a group of repressed and ornery children. Parents attempt to corral their kids, but find such a task difficult amidst the uproar caused by injury and death. The town’s pastor (Burghart Klaussner) is particularly concerned with the moral education of his children, and so he punishes misbehavior by making two of his children wear a white ribbon. The white ribbon is intended to remind the bearer of purity and is thereby meant to serve as a deterrent from wrongdoing.
Whether or not the white ribbons make a difference for the pastor’s children, the mischievousness that began with the prank on the doctor reaches a new level. What once seemed to be a series of unrelated incidents begins to look like the concerted work of a single mind. Innocence seems to fade from a once peaceful town. Motivated by outrage, anger and a sense of injustice, many prominent citizens of the town—from the baron to the pastor to the town’s schoolteacher (Christian Friedel)—begin to investigate the crimes. But once again, no culprit is forthcoming. This lack of progress is due in part to the fact that each investigator is preoccupied with his or her own affairs and in part to the fact that each investigator has his or her own distinct suspicions. Amidst uncertainty, the entire town is torn between the desire to bring justice to the culprit and the desire to return to normalcy.
“The White Ribbon” is laced with uncertainty and ambiguity from beginning to end. Possible resolutions are as evanescent for the viewer as they are for the townsfolk. This is a fresh and interesting way to make a movie, and it is a device that has come to characterize Haneke’s work. What makes the lack of certainty in “The White Ribbon” particularly interesting is that it is not simply uncertainty for uncertainty’s sake. That is, its ambiguity is not a mere novelty. By the end of this movie, the audience will not only have considered several possible explanations for the story’s events (as have the various characters in the story); they will have also recognized that each possible scenario comes with its own significance and meaning. Were these crimes the work of a particularly sinful and mean-spirited member of the community? Or were they the result of repression—a reaction to religious indoctrination? Or were they ultimately God’s punishment for the sins of the town?
“The White Ribbon” certainly deserves its Academy Award nominations for Best Cinematography and Best Foreign Film. It is intriguing and beautifully shot. The slow pace, black-and-white cinematography, and weighty themes of this movie are reminiscent of (though not quite on par with) the work of Ingmar Bergman, who is famous for movies like “The Seventh Seal,” “Wild Strawberries” and “Winter’s Light”. This movie is not for those who demand action and entertainment, for this movie has demands of its own. “The White Ribbon” requires patience and meditation. Luckily, this movie is worth the effort.
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