In the grand scheme of things it’s good to remember that Brave is just a movie. That’s not to dismiss it, rather it’s a statement of fact. The film’s purpose is, like almost any film, to stimulate its audience. In this case it aims mostly to entertain, as well as illicit and emotional reaction. It’s possible to judge the film on this level alone. Does it achieve these basic goals? How well does it achieve them? This is the level most people will settle on in terms of their appreciation for the film.
There’s another set of criteria that gets attached to certain films, though. The first is a placement within a group, in the case of Brave this would amount to a measurement against other Pixar films. For other films it might be a comparative evaluation within a director’s body of work. Or a writer. Or an actor. Or anything. This sort of judgement is both fair and not. Judging Brave as “not up to par for Pixar” means very little for the film itself despite what it may say about the film within the given grouping and from the critic’s perspective. I have issues with judging a film this way, though I do acknowledge the usefulness of this sort of comparison. More problematic is burdening a film with a weight of necessary importance. The way I see it, Brave has struggled greatly with this kind of unfair weight. Click to read more.
I watch a lot of movies, and you probably do, as well. When it comes to the actual watching part I do have preferences. In an ideal world I would see every movie in a huge, glamorous theatre, with a well-dressed, well-behaved audience and not a single food item or cell phone. The audience would stay totally quiet, expect for laughing/gasping/screaming/whooping at the appropriate times. If the theatre features classic style inclined seating then I wouldn’t allow any tall people in unless they agreed to sit behind me. The image would be perfectly projected on 35mm or digital (for digitally shot films only) and would be constant-height so that scope films are truly the widest viewable on the screen. The sound would be THX certified and scalable to 7.1 surround. There wouldn’t be any ambient lighting whatsoever. Nobody would be allowed to enter or exit the auditorium during showtime.
Another two weeks have gone by. Yes, I forgot once again. When I did remember to put a list of links together I also realized I hadn’t collected enough good links. Well, in the extra time I’ve found some quality links. I’ve got stuff from all over the interwebs and I hope you’ll enjoy it.
This week I got to see a big screen presentation of the animated shorts nominated at the Oscars. Along with the five nominated films were four “highly commended” shorts, a welcome addition considering the five nominated shorts don’t even fill an hour of viewing. What I generally love about animated shorts is that they’re effectively silent films. Where live-action shorts generally try to be like small versions of the kinds of movies you might see at the art house, animated shorts tend to be conceived as a way of showing off skill in animation. That makes sense, of course, but the result is usually a total lack of dialogue, focusing on expression through character animation.
Such a disappointment. I’d heard this book pimped by so many cinephiles, including the guys on Filmspotting. How could it possibly not live up? 
Movies are amazing. Clearly. Objectively. Also amazing is learning about movies. I love it. The history of cinema is almost as fascinating as the movies themselves. Maybe even more interesting. Take for example, Apocalypse Now. I consider it the greatest film I’ve ever seen, and likely ever made. Yet the story behind the making of Apocalypse Now is perhaps crazier, more engaging and more entertaining than even the film itself. I’m a sucker for making-of docs and informative commentaries, but I also love documentaries with a wider focus.
One of the greatest pleasures of moviegoing is the “Whoa…” moment. It’s that point in a movie where something so amazing happens your jaw drops to the floor and your brain momentarily ceases all rational function. Sometimes it comes about because of some incredible plot twist, though that’s quite rare. Usually it’s the product of an incredible image, often aided by special effects, that stretches the definition of awe and cool. But how do these moments come about, and has the proliferation of CGI killed off the “Whoa…” moment? 
