Shitbox Recordings, Pt. I

JB-Guitar SM-Bass Guitar DN-Drumming

Please, I'm Sorry

Working on uploading some archival recordings, but I'm just not fast enough. In the meantime:

Josephine Decker's "Butter on the Latch," Anti-Industry & Some Optimism, Too

BUTTER ON THE LATCH 

The film industry in the U.S. tends to function in relation to its presence in the larger national economy. Its not a coincidence that as corporate influence became a fixture in the political economy in the late 70’s, so did the superhero and big-budget action movies of the same era become fixtures of the cinema. Think about all the movies that come out now. Their impossible production size and visual bombast seems to mimic precisely the fixated corporate presence in politics. These movies, cast out to the public at incredible rates, are, by definition, not based on cinematic merit but instead on their potential for meeting the public’s most shallow demands. We see them because there are no other options, and this is fine, but it still contributes in giving the studios the financial imperative to continue the practice. They say the middle class is shrinking. If that’s true then so is the mid-budget movie. What he have left then can be seen as a political battlefield: a free-associated legion of independent filmmakers forced to scrap for their movies in combat against Hollywood. I’d like to consider Josephine Baker the newest addition to the gang.

Decker’s first feature film Butter on the Latch (2013) is a twisted psychological folk drama about the darkness that influences the friendship between two women. It is sometimes slow-paced and naturalistic (all the dialogue is purported to be improvised) while other times surreal, chaotic and deeply ambiguous. It is a film that deserves to be seen, if not in theaters around the world, then at the very least, at festivals and streaming sites, as a compelling example of what a movie can accomplish when its budget and distribution are unknown variables.

There is not so much a conventional plot in Butter on the Latch as there is a collection of moods that transform within the social backdrop. So what does happen in the movie? Well I’m not so sure, but I do know its about two women whose friendship catches the invocations of folk tales and ancient spirits at a Balkans retreat camp in the woods. In this camp, men and women meditate and sing, dance and drink Balkan moonshine. There is an attempt in the camp to foster a unifying rhythm, a collective spirit. This is invoked in ancient folk tales and melodies: “part of our genetics,” according to one man. But are these spirits flowing from the retreat’s regimented harmonies or from something seedier, something dark and feminine outside the camp, in the wild of the surrounding woods? The camera captures this turmoil by invoking a spirit of its own, at once patient and documentary-like, and at other times spiraling into chaos and fast cut collage. This is credit to the filmmaker who edited the film with courage and an appreciation of risk-taking. The risks pay off and the end result represents some of the more compelling narrative work in recent memory. 

Decker uses the forced-DIY aesthetic to the film’s advantage, utilizing the small budget towards an even smaller cast and crew. There’s one primary location and the script is loose and apparently improvised. The running time: barely an hour. Why make it any longer? All of this makes for a quick but rich viewing. 

If Butter on the Latch seems to lose itself inside of a folk song of old East Europe, then Decker’s next feature, Thou Wast Mild and Lovely (2014) is the dark b-side to the American folk song. It has the editorial and psychological presence of Latch, and to an equally strong effect. But the important things are that a) it came out, and b) it came out only a year after Latch. This is indicative of another advantage of independently-financed, small budget movies: they can be shot, edited and produced at a rapid rate. For some, a nearly annual one. See Alex Ross Perry, who has made three greats in only four years. Or even the less-compelling but more productive Swanberg/Duplass/West/Brice gang who seem to have a slew of movies out before you got the chance to watch the previous bunch. 

This will have to be the model for filmmakers who have no choice but to look for other ways besides extravagant financing to create interesting movies. I mean we need something good and contemporary to watch in between Paul Thomas Anderson, Michael Haneke and Apichatpong Weerasathakul features. Josephine Decker not only meets this demand, but far exceeds it. Her two films are models for contemporary, experimental-narrative cinema. They’re perhaps not great or masterpiece-worthy in the context of film history, but they are nonetheless singular representations of good, contemporary cinema. 

Another theme to the current cinematic climate is the gender gap between Hollywood and the independent scene. Hollywood has long been a Boys Club power structure and this accounts for all the infantile glee rampant in modern movies, from Star Wars to The Avengers. The more women I see in contemporary film—as writers, directors, cinematographers, actors, etc., the more I understand the souls and desires of women. I’m offered a perspective thats only capable through the representation of art, narrative and experimentation. Notice the credits at the end of Thou Wast Mild and Lovely. The vast majority of the crew is female. This is an incredibly rare occurrence in film. Its also very exciting and one of the more optimistic traits of current cinema. 

Perhaps the future women of film will be the ones to lead the soldiers into battle. Lets hope so. Down with Hollywood.

"Fish Tank" and The Limits of the Social Drama

I'm going to start writing short criticism pieces on new-ish movies. As I've said before, I reluctantly don't go to the theatre very often. What with the cost of a ticket and the lack of compelling-looking movies, it just rarely seems worth it. So these reviews will be about interesting movies that have come out in the past 5 years or so, more or less. My aim is to take the power back from the shitty box office kings and transfer it to whatever better movies are being made with heart and soul but slip by under some of our radars. Okay, lets start.



FISH TANK



the second effort of British director Andrea Arnold is indicative of that burgeoning quasi-genre, the social realist drama. When we watch a film made in this vein we're usually following a cast of lower class characters as they interact within an isolated, bleak, and emotionally detached community. To convey this as a cinematic experience, the social drama tends to employ naturalistic, sparse dialogue and a conservative hand held camera style that stays close enough to show emotion but detached enough to never offer even a hint of interior life. The reason for this is simple: as prisoners to their environment (the economic, the physical), these characters are withheld the luxury of exploring their inner world and rendered incapable of dreaming or metaphysical desire. And this is my problem with the genre: by sacrificing style and experimentation for a strict focus of exteriors, it neglects the interior curiosities of both character and audience, and thus becomes victim to the same physical prison its trapped its characters in.

The social drama is also an inherently controversially genre because it keeps itself entirely in a world of economic poverty and lower class interaction. There's nothing wrong with that in itself, and in fact, it is urgent that places of marginalized, compromised and exploited conditions be given cinematic presence. Political films are needed now more than ever. But the social drama doesn't confront the controversy it sparks, it only tells a story about the surfaces of things and then slinks out of the theatre begging for a champion analysis from its nervous middle class art-house audience. One would hope the filmmakers of such strict genre pieces would have the gumption to reference this disease inherent in their movies by providing us with something, anything to call attention to the complex relationship between moviegoer and movie. I'm dying even for the most subtle stylistic touch or experimentation, like, you know, something cinematic perhaps?

Fish Tank (2009) is concerned with a world of poverty but it is anything but a sentimental or preachy film. On the contrary, it is masterfully ambiguous in its judgement of the outside world, which is represented only through representations of culture themselves: music, in cars or CD headphones, a television that shows music videos and programs about expensive houses. The one thing in the world that seems to bond these isolated characters is dancing. And yet they need the outside world even for this. Songs give them music and hip hop videos on the Tube give them a technique to copy. They look to t.v. and CDs as portals to a better world, and find common bonds with each other as they do it.

Its an exercise in both patience and stability to watch Fish Tank. It portrays a gut-wrenchingly unloving place where even the act of communication and the very meaning of words spoken between characters has malfunctioned. In a rare tender scene, two sisters depart from each other, the future entirely unknown, with a heartfelt "I hate you"--"I hate you, too" hug and kiss exchange. Love is forbidden: to express it, one must say the opposite. This and with the constant breach of property boundaries--personal, private, emotional--makes for truly raw cinema, both in content and style.

Fish Tank may be a "social realist drama," but it does so much more than that. Oh boy, does it ever.
As a confessed social drama skeptic, I had to convince myself over my preconceptions, but once I opened up to the film's world, I saw Fish Tank for what is truly is: a film indicative of the experience, maturity, mastery and daring confidence of its director. Andrea Arnold has only one other movie to her name, 2006's Red Road, but she has one due out later this year, and I'm excited and curious to see what kind of bleak and damaged world she'll be showing us this time. I just hope she loosens up a bit.