Enter the Dragon

Okay, it's fine, but this really isn't what I wanted. I haven't seen early James Bond in a while; what's the difference between that and this? Just combat style? This really isn't what I wanted. I guess I have my introduction to Bruce Lee, which should be sufficient for any future trivia nights. I doubt I'll need to see another. I wanted pure immersion in Asian martial arts cinema, but this didn't miss a single Hollywood cliché. Nor did I get good martial arts: I'd rather watch the driest amateur tournament than these ridiculous double roundhouses, if it's real. It's about gravity: movies can be spectacular if they maintain gravity, stay grounded, retain empathy. Ip Man had gravity; I could feel it. Enter the Dragon was so archaically staged I couldn't feel it. Movies have an odd task: convince the viewer's subconscious of the movie's reality enough to manipulate their empathy. If you can't convince the viewer, you can't manipulate their empathy. That's the trouble with primitive production: we're desensitized to sensationalism so it really needs to feel life-like. Enter the Dragon might have been awesome in 1973, but it feels silly now. It barely moves my emotions. I've seen too many action movies; I've built a tolerance; it had better look and sound and feel real.

Can I appreciate this for what it is? I'm not sure. They say it's one of the greatest. I don't get it. A couple things stand out, like the final scene with the mirrors, but most of it is tired formula. Maybe it invented some of this formula, and I'm desensitized, but it's hard for me to imagine this being a great movie at any period. It seems sensational at best. I can understand if it was awesome, in the 70s, but not a great movie. Great movies have more timeless artistic value. Enter the Dragon seems culturally meaningful and entertaining but not artistically profound, and the entertainment wanes. It's a tough fate for a movie I feel I respect, but maybe they never strove for timeless art. They hit the world hard, made a mark, and live through their offspring. Some works are so singular they don't really have offspring, but stand alone through generations. This isn't one. Enter the Dragon, like the original Star Wars, made a mark, planted a cultural seed that sprung a lineage, and lives therethrough. I respect that, but prefer to spend time with works that will make a mark on my life now. My pure interest in film tethers me to icons like Enter the Dragon that will not actually impact my life, and I will probably continue to kindle interest for things I don't need. But I will try not to spend so much time with them. Life's too short not to chase curiosities, but it's also too short for much idle escapism. You can curate your curiosities to a degree, and try to make your time make a mark.

Ip Man

2/19/22

I enjoyed this. I'd be interested in more martial arts (I've hardly seen any -- Kill Bill inspired this). The problem I foresee is cheesiness: even modern instances with convincing production, like Ip Man and Kill Bill, suffer via hyperbolic characters, and that's not to mention older instances with production worthy of a modern middle-schooler (I've seen a couple Bruce Lee clips). So I mean even with advanced choreography and sound effects, as in the aforementioned two, I'm still wanting the subtlety of other movies I consider "good". Has martial arts film gotten there? Should I try Crouching Tiger?

The fighting in Ip Man was just what I needed. Its brutality was selective and timely -- I don't need the constant cringe of Kill Bill; its combat narrative and choreography were awesome yet grounded -- Ip Man against a mob never felt as far-fetched as The Bride against the Crazy 88. Of course it was exaggerated, but consistently so, true to its tone.

I just wish the surrounding drama was subtler. An all-around convincing martial arts movie could be a powerful thing.

After a little research, it seems Enter the Dragon and Crouching Tiger are the two martial arts films I should most heed -- which I anticipated. Oldboy showed up, but is that a martial arts movie? Seven Samurai also appeared, which I've seen, but hardly remember.

jeen-yuhs Act I

The pacing is confusing: we're a third of the way through, and he hasn't even finished writing College Dropout? Kanye has enough material (musical and otherwise) for a 10-part docuseries. But this is a trilogy. If it's intending standard biography scope, there's way too much idle banter for its runtime. I don't inherently mind the banter (much), but the scope is confusing. So far it's almost entirely the short period between Kanye's arrival in New York and the release of College Dropout. The rest of his career will have to be absolute lightning pace if the intended scope is what I gathered from the trailer. But I'm reserving conclusions -- just confused.

Two gems shone through the mass: "Family Business" and Donda.

I always loved "Family Business." It's major soul chords and sentimentality -- two hallmarks of my taste in hip hop. I'm soft in a way: major sevens over harmonic minor, melancholy over anger. I always loved "Family Business", and I haven't heard it in a while. Hearing it now, with one stunned word of approval from Scarface -- "Incredible" -- was satisfying.

And Donda: what a presence. I've always had a warm and supportive mother, but Donda's warmth and support were astounding. No wonder Kanye treats her like an angel, if two brief glimpses tell the truth.

Tarantino

Extremely tentative ranking; I'd really need to rewatch some, and watch a few for the first time (Once Upon a Time, Jackie Brown, Death Proof):

1. Pulp Fiction
2. Reservoir Dogs
3. Kill Bill
4. Inglorious Basterds
5. Django Unchained
6. The Hateful Eight

Past posts:

• 2/12/22 Kill Bill Vol. 2
  
• 2/11/22 Kill Bill Vol. 1
  
• 9/21/20 Django Unchained
• 11/4/17 The Hateful Eight
• 12/31/15 Reservoir Dogs
• 8/28/15 Inglorious Basterds

I think he's struggled with ending otherwise great movies a few times, including Kill Bill, Django, and Hateful Eight. With stronger endings, I might love these movies, but I don't: that's how much it matters. I liked Kill Bill a lot, Django was largely great to me, and The Hateful Eight had a lot of potential, but ultimately I thought these endings were weak or aimless, which really taints the impression. I'm not sure if they ran out of steam, couldn't be reigned, shouldn't be reigned, or what. The latter two felt aimless, as I recall. Kill Bill didn't feel aimless, but anticlimactic. That one was more admirable to me, with the motherly resolution. But I thought the other two were just kind of baffled. Those I haven't named (Pulp Fiction, Reservoir Dogs, Inglorious Basterds) I don't recall having weak endings, but those are also the ones I haven't seen in a while. But I don't recall those being weak.

I like his movies: they're supercharged by his passion for movies. Their stylistic and entertainment values are high. My only trouble is they're really just movies. They're movies for people who like movies. They're extremely movie-like. If someone had never heard of movies and asked for an example, Tarantino would be a great example. He just loves movies, and makes great ones, but they're heavy on the escapist entertainment side.

Yes, I do think movies can stray a ways into the Art and Life areas. See my relationships with Lord of the Rings, Synecdoche, Tarkovsky,... Life is the most subjective. Tarantino is pretty distinct from all this. I can't take much away, outside my intrinsic interest in movies. If I wasn't so interested in movies, it would just be escape, even further toward the Entertainment corner. This is tough for me, since I have a habit of rigorously justifying how I spend my time, and movies are not the easiest art to justify. Art itself requires justification for me, and movies even more than most -- and Tarantino even more than most movies I watch. I like and enjoy his movies, but they're outside my typical domain where I'm trying to get more art and life out. But I love movies in general, and maintain interest in them, and Tarantino is far from the furthest from my interest.

Kill Bill Vol. 2

I'm ambivalent on Vol. 2 due to its opposing tendencies: diminishing intensity and building purpose. The intensity diminishes, which is a big blow. Vol. 1 is thrilling, in part for its novelty, part for its brutality. The novelty wears off for Vol. 2, and Tarantino tones down the brutality. I was terrified during the early massacre scene. For the first time in a very long time, I pulled my gaze from a movie out of fear. Little came of it: suspense was released with a fading shot and the action out of view. I was stunned and relieved. It seemed out-of-character. Now, I say intensity diminished in Vol. 2 -- I mean gradually. That scene was as intense as any in Vol. 1 for me, but maybe its resolution taught me not to fear so much. An early shot also assures us she survives healthily, so even the burying-alive is tamed. Without that early assurance, the burying-alive would have been brutal. It nearly was anyway. Even if we're pretty sure she survives for the sake of the movie, sometimes visionary directors surprise you, and it's another step to be directly assured by the filmmaker like we were. I'm shocked he spared us the massacre, and I question his decision to assure us her healthful survival. It tames the movie. Maybe it keeps it palatable. The diminishing intensity is disappointing though, especially by the end. Vol. 1 is satisfying because you know there's a lot of time left to climax. Vol. 1 climaxed in an extended mass battle, but you know there's far more meaning to mine in the Bill confrontation and the outstanding offspring. Unfortunately these things don't build the intensity; it's deliberately subverted upon her arrival to them. That's okay, if it's re-raised, but it isn't. It gets too reasonable. They have some relatively normal conversations. You can actually empathize with Bill. Again, that's okay, and nothing new in movies -- the enemy is often empathized before their downfall. But we need some way to rebuild the intensity. It doesn't come. They hardly even fight. You get some reasonable conversation and a rapid defeat. And that's it. But now for the second tendency: the building purpose. Once we meet the child, the movie quickly begins to flip. Prior, the goal is Kill Bill. I worried this was doomed for Revenant-level emptiness. Revenge movies must always face this dilemma: if revenge is achieved, now what? Did it reverse the original wrong? Did it bring happiness? What did it mean? The Revenant faces this, voluntarily or involuntarily, and it's depressing. I worried Kill Bill would suffer the same. But as I said in the last post, for Tarantino's extravagant reputation, he has depth, and he finds a reliable way to bring meaning to the ending. The movie flips from Kill Bill to regaining the child. Bill dies anyway, but unlike The Revenant, the child is won. This move saves the movie from that deflating nihilism. How else could it have ended? Her death? She gets a lot of money? How could we be satisfied? She gets her daughter is about the best it could be. Well, I certainly would have preferred more climax on the way. Ultimately I'm disappointed, but by the grace of the ending I'm content enough. I feel flat about it -- ambivalent. I'm glad it closed off well, but it fell a little flat.

Once again I was really disappointed when cheesy fantasy entered. Last time it was jumping off the sword in the mass battle: this time it was jumping on the sword. The master jumped on the sword, did some other unrealistic things, and threw the sword back in its sheath. I really wish such fantasy could be avoided. I roll my eyes and care less about the movie. Thankfully this was momentary, and I felt invested the rest of the time.

I like Kill Bill. It had more depth than I expected. I was emotionally involved. It was exciting. The second volume was disappointing, but I don't feel frustrated. A mother winning her child is about the most placating thing of all time.

Next day notes:

It sounds like the mother-story came late in the writing, after Tarantino observed Thurman with her child. This explains why it felt like a left turn, why its relief was so surprising. I guess he didn't even conceive the Bride's daughter survived. I wonder how he would have ended it otherwise.

Why was Michael Parks's Esteban performance so enthralling to me?

Kill Bill Vol. 1

Kill Bill so far is about what I expected, but a touch more meaningful. I avoided it all these years as an ostensibly self-indulgent pleasure picture riding on gore and camp. It's more than that. First, Tarantino and Thurman make an honest effort to sympathize the character. Without this, Kill Bill would be martial arts porn worth my avoidance. Second, while Tarantino's signature is unmistakable, it isn't excessive. I rolled my eyes a couple times in Django. I haven't felt that at all in Kill Bill. It has that flavor that makes everything more entertaining, but not so much that I'm hyper-conscious I'm watching a movie. I was immersed. Time flew by. I was surprised to discover only 20 minutes remained. It helped knowing there's a second volume, but the Tarantino sparkle combined with the sympathetic characters drove the movie well. I'll add one caveat: I did become hyper-conscious I was watching a movie during the final fight scenes. It wasn't from the Tarantino sparkle, but from the absurd mass fight sequence and Zoe Bell's astonishing but ridiculous stunts. These are so central and climactic it may feel sacrilegious to question, but I wonder how the movie could turn out without the absurdity of the mass fight. Everything else in the entire movie works for me, is mutually consistent. Nothing else stuck out, including the fighting before and after this scene. But during that scene things got temporarily ridiculous, and I was torn from the world of the movie. Her odds were improbable and her stunts fantastical. In one sense this scene rounds out the movie, topping off the gore/camp/porn cup I mentioned earlier, for any yet-unfulfilled aficionado; it also elevates the character, it's epic, and it's entertaining. But I'd argue it compromises the film. It compromises my sympathy for her: she's a god now. Every other fight scene was thrilling and fearsome because I could feel her humanity. Here it became clear she couldn't lose. I feel far less affection for an invincible character. Thankfully the final fight pulled her back down, but I think the quality of this film depends on its humanity, and its humanity was seriously undermined in the mass fighting. It was cool, but I started caring less about the movie.

So I guess that scene crystallized what I expected of the movie all these years. I'm thankful the rest wasn't like that, and I was surprised how much I cared. He did a good, genuine job. It's not just a... what do they call artwork created for the artist's own self-indulgence that particularly eschews audience and criticism? Anyway, for Tarantino's extravagant reputation, he has depth. This movie is intoxicating, no surprise, but also affecting and artistic. For my interest in cinema I'm glad I tried it. I'll probably watch Vol. 2.

Note: I had some social justification in watching this. I wonder whether I ever would have otherwise. I liked it, and it's good for reference. But it's not the kind of premise I seek.

Donda

during Donda:

Even Jay-Z has diminished in the same ways?

The days are long gone I anxiously anticipated each new Kanye project. I used to keep up with every feature, not to mention albums. I've changed, but so has Kanye. He still puts out original ideas but only in a vast orbit of mediocrity. His quality verses especially are rare.

Christian or not, and however interesting the history of Christian art be, you must agree these hyper-Christian themes are less interesting than his older themes.

So much stupid rap these days. I guess that's the side-effect of rap becoming so fundamental in the modern mainstream.

There's definitely a lot of rap I'm less interested in than this. If this was Kanye's first album, and I'd never heard of him, this would be interesting. But his trajectory is hard to ignore. He's been bottomed out for a while. Still it's more interesting than a lot of pop music. I attribute this in part to his background in soul.

"Believe What I Say" high point so far?

I don't hate it. I'm warming up a little. I also miss rap; I've hardly listened to it in the last couple years.

I was troubled when I heard "Violent Crimes" from Ye was ghost-written. So I'm not even sure what Kanye himself contributes, of the good stuff recently. Some of this is good... mostly the beats. Is he still beat-auteur, or are those "ghost-written" as well? I like some of this. I especially like the soulful chords in some of these tracks, like "Violent Crimes" -- the organs playing phat chromatic changes. It's gospel and I love that.

I actually like some of these beats quite a bit. I miss good rap though. High-level verses are spare here, even with all the features.

Contemporary Christian references compromise an otherwise decent verse -- and I don't think I'm anti-Christian for saying that...

Who wrote "Lord I Need You"?

Since Pablo we've seen a lot of dumb, unsubtle, spastic stuff... but some great beats.

This would be awesome live.

I miss long verses, not that I've expected those from Kanye in a long time.

"Melodic rap" with the sophistication of high school poetry... it's everywhere.

(In)elegant variation... Kanye doesn't know how to subtly repeat things for emphasis. He repeats jokes and, on this album, entire songs.

after Donda:

I didn't mind it -- I may have liked it better than I expected, though my expectations are low these days. If I'd listened to any of my favorite rap lately, I'm guessing I'd like Donda less. It just doesn't really compare. While I love good beats, I love good writing even more, so rap is really about lyrics. Kanye's lyrics have suffered enormously in the last ten years or so, though he was never king of that from the start. But falling even as far as he has from his early wordplay and concepts is a blow to his value: what do I do with this rap containing such mediocre lyricism? Kanye is no longer a strong writer. Somehow he still coordinates some great beats, in my opinion, but I'm not sure what that process looks like. What's his role? I even loved The Life of Pablo, despite its verses, or lack thereof. But the lack of quality verses is a blow to the whole value of rap. Most of the rap I hear is trending that way. People aren't leaning into verses -- its just cheap beats and offhand auto-tuned remarks. I miss great rap. Even Kendrick has declined. I wonder what's going on. I'm sure there are things happening underground that shatter previous quality standards. I hope Kendrick isn't so far past that; Kanye is long past that. He's still inventing, and I like some of it, and he'll always be my first favorite rapper, but I shake my head.

I certainly appreciate the gospel chords of the last few albums. I daresay they rescue his recent trajectory. I daresay they're his savior.