So, I saw this really cool movie [based on a play] last night called Equus.

(Equus being the latin word for horse or something)

This picture is based on a creepy scene from the movie where the character tries to imitate being a horse... mainly because, for whatever reason, he sees a horse as something not unlike Jesus (might have to do with the bible-thumping the character's mother does, among other things): even though horses have the power to trample people... they don't; they just accept what humans do to it, even though it's the most humiliating crap ever...

In his mind, this is sort of like jesus; dude got nailed to the cross and he just took it.

So yeah...

It's an awesomely creepy movie about a dude in love with a horse; attached to this post is a more detailed analysis of the film (in addition to all the other stuff I watched yesterday).

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Sidney Lumet's [b]Equus[/b].

I've always been particular to Sidney Lumet. He's made a handful of my favorite movies: [b]Dog Day Afternoon[/b], [b]Before the Devil Knows You're Dead[/b], [b]12 Angry Men[/b], [b]Find Me Guilty[/b], [b]The Pawnbroker[/b], etc.

And even the stuff that wasn't particularly lauded [or liked], like [b]Power[/b], has been quite good, really.

([b]Power[/b] is kinda like what you would get if you combined two of Lumet's movies, [b]The Verdict[/b] and [b]Network[/b], and then had Richard Gere, who can actually act quite well, in the lead role trying to sell politicians to the public)

ANYWAY, I think [b]Equus[/b] may be one of his best that I've seen.

(like [b]Doubt[/b], [b]Equus[/b] is apparently adapted from a stage-play)

Here's the plot:

It's a story of a boy and how this doctor, played by Richard Burton who single-handedly has some of the most brilliant monologue work I've ever seen in a movie, has to treat this boy at this pshyche hospital for troubled kids in what I'm assuming is England.

What's the boy's problem, you say?

Has something to do with Equus; equus being the latin word for horse...

So... this boy worships horses... and it somehow leads to an incident one night where he blinds 6 horses at the stable he works at; he lands in Richard Burton's care since the judge working the case could clearly see that this boy was "in pain".

The long and short of it is: the boy is not able to perform sexually because of his worship of horses and it's up to the doctor to discover this incident and find a solution to this problem.

(yes, it's as creepy as it sounds)

Here's where the layers get kegged on: because of the doctor's interactions with the boy, he soon finds himself in a place where he questions his line of work; the boy seems to bring truths, which the doctor has been trying to avoid for years, to the surface (think of how like Clarice discovers herself in her interactions with Hannibal Lecter in Jonathan Demme's [b]Silence of the Lambs[/b]):

His marriage sucks. He never really pursued his dream of living in Rome (he kinda just takes a 3-week trip every year with his disinterested wife; he's a tourist, at best).

But, even worse:

He's beginning to question the nature of what he's doing: while, yes, he may be taking away the pain of these children... but he's beginning to question whether or not he's actually HELPING them; there's a difference.

All things considering, he may just be tricking these kids into feeling better and it doesn't necessarily sit well with him at this point when the reality of the boy who worships horses presents itself: there really is no cure for something like that, but he's in a profession where he corrects people and molds them into what is considered acceptable in "god's society"; that's the best "cure" he as a doctor can conjure up, despite his good intentions for something more; there's always going to be something wrong even though the kid, later on in life, won't go around blinding horses (talking about that scene: it was horrifying).

In "correcting" this kid, something is lost (simply put: Richard Burton's character accuses himself of destroying "passion" for the sake of having these kids fit into society; it's like a cure that isn't really a cure, which he feels guilty about).

ANYWAY, it's also fascinatingly poetic when Richard Burton's character sees himself as a sacrificial priest: for the sake of society, he has to, much like how the ancient civilizations did it, sacrifice people (and in his case: kids); he's not killing them, but the idea where he is sick of what it is that he's doing, but he has to keep on a "sacrificial mask" to hide this doubt from people, is endlessly interesting.

Another issue in the movie is how, even though he ends up taking away the pain of these kids, he now realizes that there's no one around to heal his pain; even though the kid's obsession with Equus will eventually end, the doctor will most likely be haunted by its image for the rest of his life, constantly puzzled by the question: I'm in a profession where I supposedly understand the mind of children... yet I don't actually understand the mind of a horse, which should be seemingly more simple... so how is it that I'm expected to understand the mind of children, which are likely much more complex?

So yeah... really really great movie; insofar as the psychological investigations are concerned, think about the best moments of psychological turmoil in Naoki Urasawa's [b]Monster[/b] and you'd pretty much have this movie.

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[b]Children of Men[/b]

(which just came out on Blu-Ray and I HAD to have it)

At the very worst, it's one of the best action movies ever made. But, what puts it above a mere action flick is the ridiculous amount to detail with its theme and direction (talking about that, I'm surprised that Johnny To is considered an action director, actually; I mean... that's how his DVDs were advertised); how people coddle over the baby in this naturalistic manner (Cuaron captures the little details brilliantly... and then somehow injects the reality of different ethnicities into the mix) or how the political atmosphere is thought out with roughly the same skill as Mamoru Oshii (which leads to a lot of interesting shots: I found the shot where the camera starts out with a TV in the frame really interesting: it spouts crap about how England "Soldiers On" ahead of the rest of the world in chaos in a commercial production that seems eerily reminiscent of American political commercials, but when the camera pans back and reveals the rest of the bus, the juxtaposition between dreary reality and propganda fantasy is not only fantastically brilliant... but painfully hilarious) makes for some seriously divine film-making.

Talking about Alfonso Cuaron's shots, having previously seen [b]Y Tu Mama Tambien[/b], I can peg him for these specific types of shots where he tells a story via the panning of a camera: with one well-planned continuous tracking shot, he's able to elaborate on a person's history by shooting various picture frames containing surprisingly detailed information.

And the ridiculously long takes for the action are irresistible (I can actually recreate the choreography and set architecture in my head, despite how busy the action is); McG tries to copy them for his [b]Terminator[/b] movie, but he's completely outmatched (well, that and the action in his movie kinda sucked, really... saving grace being that robots are cool). I mean... I've already seen the movie, yet at was at the edge of my seat due to the suspense of Clive Owen somehow navigating all the horror (which I'd actually put on par with the violence in a Steven Spielberg movie, the funny thing being that Spielberg's extra impact comes from the fact that the violence is based on real world events, while Cuaron's violence is staged in a fantasy world that's incredibly convincing); this is what long takes can do for you and I'm surprised that people aren't copying the hell out of this (but then, Cuaron spent months thinking the shots out and I don't think a lot of people have the same patience; it's easier to just shake the hell out of the camera and vaguely convince people that intense action is going on as opposed to actually exerting effort).

[b]The Brothers Bloom[/b]

Fun fun movie; it's kinda like the tale of an oujo-sama who, having been caged up in a house her entire life, gets taken on an adventure...

But here's the thing: the adventure is actually fake; Adrian Brody and Mark Ruffalo play con artists and they try to wring the oujo-sama character, played by Rachel Weisz, out of her money... but she doesn't seem to really mind spending money given that she has a lot of it and she's, well... bored.

That said, a monkey wrench gets thrown into the plan when Adrian Brody, who doesn't really like being a con-artist given that his brother seemingly writes his life and he's now concerned that maybe he'll always be living a fake life... ANYWAY, he falls in love with the oujo-sama character...

So yeah... it's like the plot to some anime; there's even a Japanese chick (Rinko Kikuchi) who doesn't really do anything in the movie but be endearingly cute.

That said, an interesting little problem happens during the last part of the movie where Adrian Brody's brother gets held for ransom, but Brody isn't certain whether or not his brother his conning him; the ambiguity actually creates a good deal of suspense: is it a joke?

Or is Mark Ruffalo really in danger? Did Rinko Kikuchi actually die in the car explosion?

So yeah... fun watch; better animu I've seen in a while.

Ha ha ha ha.

[b]The Wrestler[/b]

Darren Aronofsky's tracking shots kinda remind me of Gus Van Sant's; it follows the character from behind and then goes around all over the place while telling a detailed story of the setting.

And the humor is deliciously casual (the lady's reaction to Mickey Rourke and this girl he met having sex in the bathroom was funny because of how genuine it was; she wasn't so much horrified or embarrassed as she was annoyed)...

But yeah... so... this is sort of what a Gus Van Sant movie would kinda feel like if Van Sant told the story of a broken down life of a professional wrestler (though, Van Sant would've most likely mischievously sexualized the wrestling bits and maybe had some slow motion tossed in... talking about that, they're actually kinda shot like Van Sant's love scenes: characters are shot up close and personal, taking up most of the frame, yet somehow maintaining coherent choreography); the crummy living conditions reminds me of stuff like [b]Drugstore Cowboy[/b] and [b]Mala Noche[/b].

...

But yeah, that's pretty much the only major criticism I can levy against the movie; I've not seen Aronofsky's other work, but this particular one feels too close to Van Sant's work for me to not notice... but then, who knows?

(not that being close to Van Sant's style is a bad thing in itself)

Maybe his other movies are shot and directed like this too; I can't say for sure unless I see more.

So yeah... it's the story of a washed-up wrestler and the reality he faces outside of the ring... in fact, the entire movie feels kinda like one long running joke of how where we're shown the fantastical larger than life images inside of the ring... and then we suddenly cut outside of the ring to see Mickey Rourke working at his day job at a grocery getting yelled at by his boss.

That said, it actually is something of a sad movie; here's a man who doesn't seem capable of living a regular life outside of the ring... and I like that, in the end, the only reward he really gets is being in the ring; nothing on the outside really works out.

I also like how Aronofsky showed the physical pain of the wrestlers in the hardcore match; the sequence starts at the end of the match, then we go to the locker rooms and, as the paramedics are in there fixing up various scars, this is intercut with flashbacks of the match and we see where those scars come from; it has a more commanding effect than just seeing the match, then the pain afterward; helps demystify the tolerance of pain in wrestling when done like this and makes the people seem a lot more human.