snoopy Reviews

The Farm: Angola, USA (1998)

Truth is more telling than fiction

[10/10 · 30 March 1999]

In the tradition of other great documentaries (Hoop Dreams, The Thin Blue Line, etc.), the makers of "The Farm" tell a story that needs to be told by acquiring unprecedented access to their subject. In the process, they illuminate a host of issues about the penal and criminal justice systems.

The most remarkable thing about this film is how quietly and stoically the story is told. Preachiness and sensationalism are nowhere to be found. An example: one of the most difficult scenes in the film concerns a prisoner on death row. While most films treat capital punishment melodramatically, this film shows the remnants of his last meal interposed with voiceovers of his family and his fellow inmates bidding him farewell. No matter what gratification people may receive from giving 'dangerous criminals' a death sentence, the issues will always be far more complex.

Perhaps the most unforgettable scene is at a parole hearing where the hypocrisy of the review board is captured on film, as if the officials had forgotten that the camera was still on.

The Angola Penitentiary is one of the toughest, most unforgiving prisons in the United States. But it is that way because society's most monstrous assumptions have perpetuated a cycle of despair, irrationality, and ignorance. That two filmmakers could expose such qualities with a modest budget and an unflinching eye is a testament to where film can take us.

Soldier (I) (1998)

90 minutes of my life that I can't have back...

[3 December 1998]

This is definitely a candidate for worst film of 1998. And that's quite an accomplishment.

Where to begin?

Let's start with the ludicrous plot. Kurt Russell is a highly trained, effective soldier who finds himself phased out by a genetically supreme race of soldiers in the early 21st century. He is beaten up in a grudge match and, left for dead, is shipped off to Arcadia, a garbage planet far, far away. But wait, he's not dead! He befriends the planet's inhabitants, who, conveniently enough, speak English, celebrate Christmas, and dance to Irish jigs. Oh, and there are these killer snakes which are tiny, but the women and children of the planet aren't strong enough to kill them. They show up whenever the film starts lagging and needs some false drama. Soldier befriends a family, he becomes attracted to the woman (although he can't really express emotion, so we just know because we're shown a "starting to feel emotion" montage), and teaches the son how to kill snakes with his boot. The townspeople kick him out in a cliched trial scene on the grounds that he's too aggressive for their colony. But they invite him back (with an overwrought "we were wrong!!" speech) to help kill invaders who, coincidentally, are the same fleet that made him obsolete.

The only redeeming thing about seeing this film in the theaters is seeing how quickly people flee once the first end credit appears on screen. Where I saw it, the theater was cleared in about 20-30 seconds. You'd think someone phoned in a bomb threat.

Movies often transport us to fantastical worlds, far removed from the humdrum of everyday life. I hope that _this_ world is one I will never, ever have to visit again.

Bambi Meets Godzilla (1969)

very deep

[16 September 1998]

You may have to see this film again and again to probe its deep inner meanings. If you discover the inner subtext, you're trying too hard.

Wag the Dog (1997)

good idea, badly executed

[4/10 · 14 August 1998]

Amidst the accusations of President Clinton's sexual improprieties with intern Monica Lewinsky and others, I cautiously hoped that the media frenzy and eerie parallels between the professional spin doctoring in this film and current headlines wouldn't jade my review. I can now rest assured. This film is mediocre no matter when you watch it. Strip away the hype surrounding this exercise in hype generation and you have basic, unchallenging fare. And it's a shame because Barry Levinson has so much to work with. He even announces, through Robert DeNiro's character, his sources early in the movie: Reagan's attack of Grenada, the secrecy surrounding the Gulf War, the symbolism without substance surrounding the images of Iwo Jima, Vietnam and Latin America. With heightened technology, our world is more abstract. We have very little tactile connection with global events amid the talk of a smaller world. However, this abstraction is hardly new. Theater has always presented the foreign in a tactile, believable, but frequently misleading way. Before television and even mass printing methods, many people were insulated to their own villages, ripe to believe that the world was flat, Jews had horns, and "everyone else" were barbaric buffoons. Our myths are essential in shaping our world and ourselves.

With such an intimate issue, how could Barry Levinson go wrong? Perhaps his producer Robert Evans mirrored the Dustin Hoffman creation in his weaselly persona exuding a detached nonchalance while demanding ultimate control. Either too many cooks were watering down the broth or an inexperienced chef was given the ladle. Hoffman, DeNiro and crew are trying to pull off the perfect crime, treating the rest of us as accessories. "The President" needs a popularity boost in time for re -election day after allegations surface regarding his private shenanigans with an underage "Firefly Girl." Needing to respond quickly, the president's closest advisors (Anne Heche, Andrea Martin and others) employ the services of strategist Conrad Brean (DeNiro), who calls on a higher power in Hollywood producer and general superman Stanley Motss (Hoffman). They concoct and film scenes from a fictitious war in Albania, and push America's collective buttons by evoking patriotism, resolve, bravery and all things presidential. To bolster the "war effort," their friend Johnny Green (Willie Nelson) writes and records a generically patriotic war anthem and convicted felon Willie Schumann (Woody Harrelson) is recruited to pose as the P.O.W. left behind. A faceless populace provides massive support for the war effort and for Schumann's rescue mission.

The joke here is that Hollywood is ultimately controlling America. That's why politicians frequently exhort filmmakers to clean up their act for the children's sake. Less than half of eligible American citizens vote in the presidential race, but nearly everyone goes to the movies. Movies dominate our culture and shape public discourse. Problem is, the joke's inaccurate and not even that funny. Democracy still reigns, as diluted and imperfect as it is. If you don't get enough popular support or make enough money, you can't attain gain acceptance in Washington or Hollywood, respectively. Americans may be gullible and occasionally downright stupid, but we always question authority. Levinson apparently believes that no one would bring up conspiracy theories (in this scenario, the conspiracy buffs would be drooling), no one would contact anyone in Albania or Canada to verify facts, no one would leak any information, no reporter would probe deeper for the full story and no one would grow impatient with this spin team's stalling. America may be led by producers and spin doctors, but it's not controlled by them.

If this film is truly a mirror-image of society, the apocalypse is closer than we think. If this is meant to be an artistic representation of society, it falls short. Either way, it's a dubious footnote to America's political history.

Saving Private Ryan (1998)

Private Ryan is intensely stirring, but it doesn't follow through.

[14 August 1998]

We've heard reams of praise for Private Ryan. We're sure to see it win some major film awards in the coming months. Let's be honest, this film is well above average for a Hollywood product. Spielberg is a bona-fide talent and has proved that he can make serious, engaging films.

Still, as much as I liked Saving Private Ryan, I left the theater feeling strangely unfulfilled. The story of the D-Day invasion and dubiously honorable search for one soldier is very well told and pays homage to the finest and most brutally honest WWII films ever made. Spielberg's smartest decision in this film was in using John Williams' score rather sparingly. The sight of soldiers jumping off the gunboats to their immediate deaths is horrific, and we don't need music to remind us. The story plays itself out very naturally. Not every gruesome event happens for a reason; we're reminded that war has no immediately discernible logic. Even the recognizable stars aren't spared the horrors of war.

However, this film is bookmarked by an opening and closing sequence in the present day that, while well-intentioned, is more of a distraction than anything else. The apparent message is that not a minute of your life should be taken for granted when others make great sacrifices for you.

We study history so that we may appreciate our existence, not so we can plug into mindless entertainment. When will Hollywood realize this?

The Truman Show (1998)

How will it end??? We're tuning into our TV sets,...

[14 August 1998]

How will it end???

We're tuning into our TV sets, attending movie theaters like never before, logging on and reading serial fiction to keep us entertained. It's all one big show, so don't tell us the ending, we don't want it spoiled for us. We can't wait to see how this one turns out. Somewhere in all this entertainment is the gem that enlightens us about the human condition, most of it is simply mindless drivel that babysits us with a neat and tidy resolution.

That The Truman Show can be the first while perfectly embodying our entertained-to-death society only begins to demonstrate its brilliance. Truman Burbank (Jim Carrey, in his best performance to date) has been the star of one big TV show all his life. After over 10,000 days alive, Truman suspects something strangely synchronous and deadening about his existence. He's never left his picture perfect life in Seahaven, the hometown where everyone's either a principal or an extra and where the eponymous star of the show is intensely "real" simply because he doesn't know any better. But the naturalism falls short on Truman's co-horts and even on the star himself. Everyone's been overly friendly and uniform out of obligation to the master plan. Truman was adopted by a corporation at birth who turned every moment of his existence into a financial venture and entertainment empire. 24-hour continuous TV has to be commercial free, so Truman is surrounded by meticulous, and sometimes blunt, product placement.

Let's face it: we're all whores to the corporate world. At some point or another, every one of us has paid too much to support a dominant corporation or to join its clique. Celebrities and entry-level actors reap the benefits after donating their soul to endorsements. But the price can be steep. Does Michael Jordan really have private space anymore? And what about the millions of Americans who can only really strike a chord with their peers through Simpsons or X-Files references? Many of today's children and young adults are being raised by television. Here's the story of a boy who was raised on television and just wants a little breathing room. When he tries to escape, he's admonished repeatedly for wanting what the rest of us watching at home or in the theaters already , in theory, has. Freedom to see things the way they really are. The real issue is when we'll start exercising our rights to this freedom. It is with a certain trepidation that viewers will cheer Truman. We don't know whether to laugh or cry as Truman's fans subtly remind us that simply by consenting to be entertained, we have surrendered so much. Eventually, we've got to turn off the sets and face the world. Can we?