Film Review: π (Pi)

You might think a movie about numbers and math would be boring, but Pi is anything but. It is one trippy experience that mixes experimental expressions with a gritty neo-noir style to craft a sharp and punchy thriller that exudes paranoia.

The film's style is what makes it consistently engaging. It's a very stark and gritty black-and-white picture with a lot of intricate sets, unique photography, and snappy editing. It's almost on the same level as Eraserhead, but with a production that looks like the first half of The Matrix. It's a pretty cool way to take an otherwise uninteresting subject and make it presentable. As the film goes on, the character becomes a target by various people, and he goes on the run in some mildly satisfying chase scenes. It all builds up to a climax that will come off as bewildering and extreme.

The story's pretty simple: a bunch of people chase after one man who knows a special number. It is pretty novel to use a number as a plot device. What makes the story most interesting, however, is the subtext. The film draws strong parallels between mathematics, nature, and the man-made world, suggesting that through math and patterns, there is a correlation between order and chaos. This is what gives the plot its weight, and gives the characters a reason to struggle to figure out numbers. Fundamentally though, this is a story about a man gifted with great talents and insight, but descends into self-destructive madness due to the knowledge in his own head.

Darren Aronofsky's debut film is made with very vivid black-and-white photography and editing. He employs some hip-hop montages here and there (as he later does in Requiem for a Dream), and it looks great. Acting is pretty good from the cast, and the writing gets the job done. The narration is pretty slick. This production uses pretty interesting sets, props, costumes, and locales. Electronic music is used throughout the movie, with a lot of beat and energy, and it is really cool.

This film is pretty bizarre, but there is plenty to think about in this basic story and plenty to admire in the intense style. If you enjoy experimental films, then this should interest you.

4/5 (Experience: Good | Content: Good | Film: Very Good)

Book Review: Naked Lunch (William S Burroughs)

Naked Lunch might be the most challenging book I've encountered.  Part of it is because of the book's namesake, which asks the reader to take a good long look at the end of the fork and see the lunch they're eating, fully exposed, for what it is.  Or, perhaps this is more accurately Burroughs himself looking at his own lunch, which had become defiled after ingesting massive quantities of opiates throughout his life.  Ultimately, that's really what this book is:  it's every random thing he jotted down while under the influence, and none of it is particularly pretty.

The other part of the challenge is that the book makes absolutely no sense whatsoever.  I couldn't tell you what the plot actually is; it's a haphazard concoction of many short pieces strung together continuously.  Most of the characters are nameless, identified only by vague designators like "The Mark," "The Vigilante," "The Exterminator," and so forth.  None of them stand out as anybody with definition or depth.  They all exist in a strange foreign place called the Interzone, which is home to both men and some weird creatures called Mugwumps.  Nearly every episode in this book involves extreme amounts of perverse sex, sadistic violence, and a rather distasteful penchant for endless discharges (or even consumption) of bodily wastes.  Sometimes all of these things are rolled together in one disturbing scene after another.  The sickening details seep through every line of the book, offering tales that are mean-spirited and vulgar.  Beyond the sheer shock value, I really couldn't tell what was going on with this book.  Especially during all its digressions, such as when the book repeatedly breaks into some kind of random courtroom scene, or turns into a movie set or something.  Seriously, what the f*!k is this bull$@&t?

The prose, however, is surprisingly lucid in its own right.  This is one of those books (perhaps one of the first even) that manages to combine words and phrases that shouldn't go together in ingenious ways to deliver abstract scenes with a remarkable level of texture.  The sentences flow well and are hardly ever dull.  Much of what's said may not make sense, but given the way it is said, it's hard to tell if Burroughs was a madman or a genius.

There was a South Park episode, where one of the kids wrote a book that was about nothing but defecation, and it became a renowned smash hit that everybody praised as a masterpiece.  I kinda wonder if that show was meant to parody the success of Naked Lunch, because it certainly feels like the book uses so much disgusting content to shock and repulse the reader, but it's hard to tell if there's really anything worth saying.  I got to admit that it's written in an interesting way, like a form of literary freestyling, which could push it into levels of artistic merit, but I feel the content is not only horrid, but also convoluted and messy.  Thus, I don't know if I should call it good or terrible literature, but its definitely distasteful.  I think I prefer David Cronenberg's film adaptation over this; at least it had a plot.

3/5 (Experience:  Extreme | Content:  Awful | Book:  Mixed)

Film Review: Eraserhead

When it comes to cinema as an art form, very few films, if any, are as abstract and bizarre as David Lynch's first-ever feature-length film: Eraserhead. Like any piece of art, some people will embrace it, others will shun it. Most are content to give it a shot and never see it again.

It truly is an experience unlike any other. The film takes place in its own little world: a dark, grungy, industrial nightmare laden with stark patterns, shadows, and odd details. Characters don't have much to say, leaving their odd actions and reactions to tell most of the story. There are numerous expressionist images that will truly challenge one's understanding of what's going on: I seriously can't say why this film has a scene with a man on another planet, or why there's an ugly lady dancing inside a radiator, or why there are worm-like things everywhere. The film has its share of grotesqueness, from the crying of a strange mutant baby to the bizarre nightmare where the guy loses his head and it literally becomes a pencil eraser...the film packs in so much weirdness, but it runs evenly and hypnotically, to the point where it's all effortless and natural for the strange world Lynch has created.

The film's content doesn't really follow a standard narrative, so interpreting its plot will depend entirely on the viewer and what he or she makes of the images. The most obvious thing is that this is about some dude having to put up with the horrors and fears of parenthood. You could probably watch the film and extrapolate psychological and sexual subtexts as well. Characters don't have much to them, but it's easy to relate to the protagonist through all his surreal visions, no matter how harrowing they become.

The film uses some very strong, vivid, and stark imagery, all shot with fantastic black-and-white photography. Editing is really precise and good. All of the actors fulfill their parts well. Dialogue tends to be pretty short, blunt, and weird. This was never really an expensive or elaborate production, so considering the film's limitations, it really made the most of what it had. Sound design is very punchy, while the music is extremely airy and surreal, giving the film the perfect atmosphere.

Eraserhead is a strange, surreal, gaudy piece of work that may not make much sense to a casual viewer. As a work of art, it is phenomenal, and all mature audiences should give it a try at least once.

5/5 (Experience: Extreme | Content: Extreme | Film: Perfect)