Eden on MASTERS OF TIME which is playing Animation First Sunday

With Les Maîtres du temps playing this years Animation First Festival, here is a look at the film from Eden Miller who reviewed it as part of her look at the cinematic work of Moebius

This is a repost Les Maîtres du temps (also known as Masters of Time) seems like it should be great. It was directed by René Laloux and designed by Moebius. The two of them should have been able to create a visionary masterpiece of animation.

And the truth is, they did, if you adjust your expectations a little.

Although based on the 1958 novel The Orphan of Perdide by Stefan Wul, the plot is secondary to the visuals. It's mostly about a boy named Piel who is stranded on a planet and space pirate Jaffar is sent to go save him.

Or something. As much danger Piel seems to be in, Jaffar and evil exiled prince Matton, his sister Belle, and old friend Silbad spend a lot of time talking and more or less just kind of hanging out. There's little urgency in terms rescuing Piel. And weird stuff that has nothing to do with anything happens -- like a planet where everyone turns into faceless angels and Piel encounters strange creatures on the planet he's on. It goes absolutely nowhere fast, until a resolution comes out of nowhere.

But to want a plot from this movie is maybe asking a bit too much. It is, rightfully so, all about the trippy -- and usually beautiful -- visuals. Much time in spent deliberating over the freaky angel-like creatures and alien landscapes. Two childlike creatures named Yula and Jad have their share of screen time, discussing various philosophical concepts about living. The film's not about the ultimate goal of saving Piel -- it's about everything that leads us to there.

Still, this is the kind of movie you're either going to connect with or you're not. I don't think there's too much middle ground. If the odd and often complexly dazzling look of the movie and its purposeful pacing doesn't appeal to you, Les Maîtres du temps will probably just confuse you at best or bore you at worst.

I know both Moebius and Laloux were disappointed with the final product, but that actually makes me a little sad. The movie is far from perfect, but in many ways, its imperfections is its strength. A more straightforward film would not have been as interesting, even if it would've been more satisfying.

Eden Miller on TOVE (2021) the story of the creator of the Moomins

 You know Tove Jansson’s work, even if you don’t know her name. As the creator of the internationally beloved Moomin books and comic strip, she has achieved a legacy many can only dream of. That wasn’t necessarily her intention, though.

Zaida Bergroth’s loving and lyrical biopic, Tove, is a look at Jansson’s adult life as a struggling artist and a woman realizing her place in society and her sexuality. It only deals with about 10 years of her life -- from the end of World War II to the mid-60s -- but those were the most pivotal.

I appreciate that Bergroth doesn’t bother with any scenes from Tove’s childhood. We quickly find out her father is a sculptor of some acclaim (her mother also was a graphic designer and two of her siblings also became artists). While the movie doesn’t hammer this point, it’s definitely about Jansson’s struggle to be recognized as a serious artist -- not only by the wider public, but also by her father.

Alma Pöysti gives her portrayal of Tove a kind of steely sweetness. She’s both young and old, playful and harsh. She looks enough like Jansson that she can disappear into the role without it feeling like an impersonation.

A lesser biopic would make Tove’s conflict over the Moomins much more than it was. She clearly had great affection for the characters (who were, more or less, based on aspects of herself, her family members and other loved ones) but mostly just thought her work there was a bit trivial to her more “serious” work. Instead, the movie is mostly about Jansson’s conflict between the work that may make her money and the work she wants to be known for. The movie doesn’t push it, but it’s clear she took on the Moomins comic strip because it was going to pay well. She eventually handed it over to her brother, Lars.

Tove had relationships with men -- most significantly in the movie, with politician and philosopher, Atos Wirtanen (Shanti Roney) -- but her longest relationships were with women. The movie focuses mostly on her on-again, off-again affair with theater director Vivica Bandler (Krista Kosonen). Vivica’s glamour and poise was clearly a draw for Tove and despite Vivica never quite being able to give Tove what she needed, she supported her and adapted Moomin stories for the stage.

There is so much of this movie that could fall into overt melodrama or tragedy, but Bergroth just brings kindness and empathy instead. Pöysti’s energy is perfect for this movie. It has all the beauty of a period piece but it never descends into their cliches.

The movie ends soon after Tove is introduced to the woman she’ll end up spending most of her life with, Tuulikki Pietilä (Joanna Haartti). So while we don’t get to see much of their lives together, that feels fitting. Tove is just a glimpse into a relatively short period in one woman’s long life. Jansson may be the most well-known for the Moomins and for most, that may be enough, but I like knowing her life was richer and fuller than just that.

Nightcap 5/2/21:Eden's IN THE LOOP project

Eden Miller has always had an interest in time loop stories. Recently she started a project called In The Loop where she explores time loop films. Its a fantastic series and you all need to read it. In order to explain the project I asked Eden to write a piece to explain the series.

 I’ve done a few other regular projects before, but In the Loop, focusing on time loop movies, is by far my most extensive.

It’s widely known I will watch any movie with a time loop. I can’t explain exactly why it’s a narrative motif that I love, but just that I love it.

While I have done things in the past like devote a day to watching Chrismas-themed time loop movies (of which there are several -- I only watched four), I had only joked previously about formalizing the concept into an actual project.

Back in February, I watched The Map of Tiny Perfect Things (because, like I said, any movie with a time loop) and that was among a long line of what seemed to be a flurry of time loop movies and several more seemed to be on the horizon (despite how it’s been reviewed, I do feel the need to point out that Lucky is not a time loop movie. Still great, though). And after 2020, where I think many of us felt like the same day was repeating over and again, I decided I finally need to do this as a sort of catharsis. And because it would be fun.

So I sat down and made a list. That list became a spreadsheet. That spreadsheet turned into a schedule. It’s color-coded and everything!

I ended up with 25 movies and one TV series (there may still be some revisions, though). I started on March 16 and it’s scheduled out through mid-August as of now.

I am summarizing time loop movies’ essential parts: 

• Time until the loop begins

• Cause of the loop/inciting incident

• Number of loops

• Lessons learned

Although, to be honest, “lessons learned” is a bit of a joke since the general summary of most (but not all!) time loop movies is “I was a bad person and now I’m a good person” (Groundhog Day is the model for so many of these, after all).

Am I hoping to come up with some kind of major thesis statement about time loop movies and what they mean? Not really. I am enjoying seeing certain patterns as well as learning that while many time loop movies do share a similar pacing, there’s way more diversity than I thought. So far, the movies I’ve watched have been fun slashers to thoughtful social commentaries to trippy philosophical meditations. I have a string of romantic comedies coming up as well as several sci-fi action movies. And I’m also going to watch a couple of those Christmas ones too.

New posts for In the Loop appear on Tuesdays. I am including what the next week’s movie will be if anyone else wants to watch along.

Eden on Sisters With Transistors (2021)

 

Women have been a part of electronic music from its very beginning. While those in the know are well aware of this, they’re still all too-often overlooked as pioneers. Lisa Rovner’s new documentary, Sisters with Transistors, changes that.

The documentary uses all archival footage and interviews as it profiles several women from electronic music’s history. There are names you know (or at least ones you should!) -- Delia Derbyshire, Daphne Oram, Suzanne Ciani -- to some you may not -- Eliane Radigue, Maryanne Amacher. 

Tied together with smart narration from Laurie Anderson, the segments serve not only as small musical biographies of each of these women but form a larger picture of the history of electronic music. The documentary is more or less in chronological order, starting with theremin player Clara Rockmore and moving forward. It’s hypnotically structured, moving from one musician to the next through time and sometimes circling back to them as they move ahead in their careers. The segments are distinct but they all feel cohesive. I adore how much Rovner lets these women speak about their own work and music rather than bringing in a bunch of others to talk about them. I also love how much we get to hear of the music these musicians made.

Of course since more footage of later electronic musicians exist, the more focus the documentary gives to them. Some of these, such as the segment about Pauline Oliveros, feel like mini-documentaries on their own. Still, that doesn’t always work -- the extended sequences with Ciani feel slightly unnecessary -- not because she doesn’t deserve it, but because there’s already an excellent documentary about Ciani, A Life in Waves (2017). Other artists, like Wendy Carlos, don’t seem to get enough attention, but I imagine that’s only because of the lack of footage and interviews.

Rovner also only sticks to the pioneers and doesn’t bring in any of the younger women making electronic music. That’s fair -- that’s not necessarily what this documentary is meant to be about -- but I would’ve liked a bit more of looking forward rather than only looking back.

Is this comprehensive? It’s impossible for one documentary to be so, but it’s a well-deserved celebration of a group of women who deserve to be celebrated. I felt like I already knew a lot about these women and the history of electronic music, but I came away having learned a lot and being absolutely enchanted by the experience I had watching this documentary. Even if it’s not a subject you think you’re interested in, this documentary will leave you realizing how much you’ve been missing.

Eden currently has a project called In the Loop, focusing on time loop movies. New posts appear weekly on Tuesdays.

Eden Talks about the movie that made her happiest and finding solace in cinema

 I watched more than 200 movies this year -- some were ones I’d seen before, sure, but most were new to me. During this weird year, I found joy and solace and escape in movies.

To follow the rule the movie that made me happiest this year was I Used to Go Here (2020, directed by Kris Rey) was a weird, complicated and sweet look at trying to recapture one’s youth. Jillian Jacobs shines and there the supporting cast is game and fun. Is this movie a masterpiece? No, but I have watched it at least three times this year. It became an instant favorite for me.

Runners up:

Portrait of a Lady on Fire (2019, directed by Céline Sciamma) basically ruined all other movies for me. This was so beautiful I felt angry about it (that’s a good thing).

First Cow (2020, directed by Kelly Reichardt) was about two sweet, kind men who the world didn’t deserve. Plus, that cow is a great cow.

Shirley (2020, directed by Josephine Decker) was so amazing that I never actually finished my review of it, but this movie is basically a Venn Diagram of things I like.

Jasper Mall (2019, directed by  Bradford Thomason and Brett Whitcomb) was made by my two favorite doc filmmakers. It’s not trying to make a grand statement of about Dying Malls And What It Means or Middle America and Its Authenticity. It’s just such a quiet, sweet documentary with a lot of sweet, quiet people. I have loved every single one of their documentaries and I want more people to see this.

I also started deep dive into the work of Agnès Varda and I’m still working my way through her movies. Cleo from 5 to 7 is a masterpiece, certainly, but the weird turns of Les Créatures, the dark undercurrent of domestic bliss in Le Bonheur and the kind, daily humanity of Daugerrotypes all show a filmmaker who had a specific vision but was always willing to challenge herself. (Yes, I bought the Criterion box set).

I discovered director Dorothy Arnzer, who was the only woman director working in the Hollywood studio system from 1927 to 1943 (when she retired). She was also an out lesbian (as much as one could be). Dance, Girl, Dance starring an early-career Lucille Ball is a delightful masterpiece and I paused to buy it on Bluray before I was even done watching it.

I’m on Letterboxd if people would like to follow along with my journeys into movies.

Lords of Chaos (2018)

Steve here with a quick note. 

After I saw that Lord of Chaos I sent an email to Eden to ask what she thought of the film. I was curious because she's familiar enough with the Black Metal scene that I wanted to know her take. She hadn't seen it yet so when the film’s release was announced I arranged for her to see the film because I feel her perspective, as someone who is familiar with the music, the events and life adds a great deal to how we should see the film.

What follows is her thoughts on the film.

In a voiceover that starts off Lords of Chaos, Euronymous (Rory Culkin) says this will end badly for him.

If you’ve heard of black metal, this is probably the one story you know about it -- a band called Mayhem whose history involved a bloody suicide, church burnings and an eventually murder.

To be fair, it’s not like Norwegian black metal is all puppies and kittens -- far from it. The music is heavy and often deals with a lot of darker issues. And certainly, this story has the most drama, but it just reinforces everyone’s worst opinions of what black metal is.

On the surface, Jonas Åkerlund is not a bad choice to tell this story. He was in black metal band Bathory early in its history and he clearly has experience in the music industry and an affection for darker imagery. Strangely, though, it’s impossible to tell where his sympathy lies here. Lords of Chaos is all over the place, tonally. Sometimes it seems like he’s expressing great empathy for these kids whose lives just ran away with them; other times it seems like he’s cruelly mocking them for being self-involved idiots. While it would be fine if the movie landed somewhere in between the two, it just mostly feels like Åkerland couldn’t make up his mind. Consequently, I really felt nothing -- neither pity nor contempt.

I think the suicide of Dead (Jack Kilmer) is a great representation of this. Dead is supposed to be fascinating and magnetic but he’s not in the movie long enough for us to care about him. His bloody suicide, which should be emotional, goes on too long and just seems to revel in the gory special effects.

It also never dives deep enough into what they were rebelling against. Norway did have a state church at the time, and these characters had privileged backgrounds (Eronymous’ dad helped him open his record store; Varg’s mom loaned him money to record his album) but we’re never given a clear sense about what they were angry about, specifically. We don’t know why black metal came out of this environment.

There are glimpses of what this movie could be when they’re just hanging out eating shawarma or drinking in bars. Those brief insights remind us that these are real people. Even Varg (Emory Cohen) starting out as a shy poser who wants to hang with the cool kids feels real … until it doesn’t.

It’s at least a stylish movie. Åkerlund has a great visual eye and while some of his music-video tricks are restrained here, he gives it a dynamic pace. The first half feels stronger than the first, though, and the second half feels like it’s just moving all the pieces into place for the inevitable outcome.

And speaking of that, Euronymous’ killing at the hands of Varg is surprisingly emotional, but even the effect of that is minimized by how long its dragged out. The movie didn’t build the relationships strong enough for us to fully care. Euronymous is dead and Varg goes to jail. Black metal lives on. Or something.

Ultimately, I’m not sure who this is movie is for. If you already know the story, it’s not going to offer any more insights into who these people were or the whys of black metal and it may actively offend you. If you don’t already know the story, the moral seems to be “black metal is bad,” which seems like a weird takeaway coming from Åkerlund.

Black metal is about more than that “one psycho and a few confused kids” (as someone I know concisely put it) but Lords of Chaos will leave you thinking that’s all there is. And that’s a shame. I can only hope it inspires people to read more about and listen more. I know I did want to go listen to more black metal after I watched this. At least there’s that.

(It’s a bit hard to find, but I recommend Icelandic movie Metalhead from 2013, about a young woman connecting with black metal after a family tragedy. It feels more true to life than this supposed “true life” story.)

The Sad and Beautiful World of Sparklehorse (2016)

This is the first of two takes on one film. In viewing the film Eden and I found that we both had differing views of the film as a result of coming from two differing points of view- She is a big fan of the group, while I knew almost nothing about them. Because at Unseen we strive to present differing views and discussion of cinema, we're going to take two looks at The Strange and Beautiful World of Sparklehorse. Eden's review will run today and mine tomorrow. — Steve

In March 2010, musician, songwriter and producer Mark Linkous took his own life, leaving behind questions and few answers. For all accounts, he was a person who struggled with substance abuse, depression and physical pain. He also created beautiful, strange and evocative music, exploring his own personal mythologies and dreamlike reflections on the world.

The Strange and Beautiful World of Sparklehorse, a documentary on Linkous' life and music by filmmakers Alex Crowton and Bobby Dass provides a good introduction to Linkous for those unfamiliar with him. Those who know his music will find a lot of familiar ground.

As someone who's a huge fan of Linkous and Sparklehorse, I wanted a bit more from this documentary. The poetic narration by singer/songwriter and friend, Angela Faye Martin, takes some adjusting to initially but definitely sets the tone. This is much more an impressionistic take on Linkous' life and music than a straight biopic. Sparklehorse's music is played over dreamy images of wooded areas or cityscapes. There are short clips of music videos (or film that resembles music video).

Sparklehorse didn't perform many shows (Linkous didn't like performing) and as someone who was notoriously reserved, he didn't give a lot of interviews. In this documentary, most of Linkous' own insights seem to be taken from a single interview. Instead, filmmakers rely on many of Linkous' friends and fellow musicians to provide details – from Jonathan Donahue to Gemma Hayes – although some of his more well-known collaborators – Wayne Coyne of The Flaming Lips, Nina Perrson of A Camp and The Cardigans – aren't featured here. I'm sure much of that was more just scheduling than oversight, but I wanted to hear from more who knew him.

Sparklehorse's music does take center stage – the documentary rightfully focuses on that than Linkous' life. After a short glimpse of Linkous' former band, Dancing Hoods, it skips straight to his time with Sparklehorse, outlining the creation of the band's five albums. Still, due to the nature of this subject matter, it doesn't get too deep into the nitty-gritty of recording or producing. Fair enough that there are going to be gaps, but much of it feels like a primer rather than an insightful look at the creation of music.

I wanted to see a more human side to Linkous. Due to his reserved nature, he was always a bit of a mystery, in a capital-R Romantic kind of way. His family were coal miners and he even worked as chimney sweep. Even the overdose that left him in a wheelchair for a while added to his dark allure. And as much as all of that is part of Linkous' appeal as a musician, it feels like well-tread territory when it comes to discussing him. I wanted more moments of Martin talking about his excitement over working with David Lynch, or more of David Lowery reminiscing about when Linkous was one of the first ones to visit when his son was born. Instead, there is too much talk of the “darkness” that Linkous had inside him. I understand that's true, but he's left as much more of an enigma than a real person.

But maybe that's just how any movie about Linkous and Sparklehorse is going to end up. In the end, it's hard to really find fault with this documentary. It's well-intentioned and well-meant, and for all its flaws, I did watch it twice. I have no doubt Crowton and Dass just wanted to share their love of Sparklehorse with the world. I appreciate that they did.

Speed Sisters (2015) DOC NYC 2015

My thought while watching Amber Fares' Speed Sisters was, somewhat ridiculously, "This would make a great movie."

After all, it has all the elements you need -- women who represent several archetypes, from the sweet tomboy to the wild child to the glamour girl -- as well as rivalries from within the group and from the outside. You have women trying to prove themselves in a male-dominated sport while dealing with the conflicts in the country they live in. Like all good sports movies, it builds to a final showdown.

But of course we already have this movie. It's called Speed Sisters. It's the exact one I was watching. There's no reason to make a fictionalized version of it when the truth is this great.

Following the first all-woman street racing team in the Middle East, the Palestinian Speed Sisters were (at the making of the movie), Marah (the tomboy), Noor (the wild one), Betty (the glamour girl) and the elder Mona (who we don't see that much of in the movie, honestly). They're led by their steely and smart manager Maysoon.

The documentary is divided nicely between the racing action and the interpersonal (and, well, international) drama. Marah has the full support of her family and it's wonderful, but she begins to butt heads with Betty, whose blonde hair and good looks makes her the group's sex symbol. Noor is more interested in learning drifting than she is in racing (and often screws up on the track).

Although the Israeli-Palestinian conflict is not ignored (the women have to deal with checkpoints and bombings while trying to find places to practice), it's not anything the movie dwells on. It's just something these women and their families deal with every day of their lives. Quieter moments showing Marah and Noor celebrating Maysoon's upcoming marriage give an insight into just how close these women are.

The rivalry between Marah and Betty may be played up on the screen (while they're on the same team, they're competing for title Fastest Women Driver), but Betty is never painted as the enemy. Both she and Marah are forced to navigate rules that are constantly changing and judgments that can't be questioned. Still, the movie is pretty clear about who it's rooting for and who we should be too.

Speed Sisters is thoughtful and fun. I adored the time I spent with these women and I loved getting to know them. Watch this before the inevitable Hollywood remake happens. I can't imagine it could be improved upon.

Speed Sisters has one screening at DOC NYC on Saturday the 14th . For tickets and more information go here.

People Places Things (2015)

Comics are cool and hip, right? Well, maybe not that superhero stuff necessarily, but those "literary" graphic novels that tend to get featured in the New York Times and such. Those and the people who make them are worth writing an indie romantic drama/comedy around, certainly.

I am kidding here, partially -- but writer/director James C. Strouse's generically-titled People Places Things seems to take that conceit. While I give Strouse credit for some of his details, much of the "graphic novelist" elements seem like a cute motif in the larger story. While they add some unique touches, they do little to elevate the movie much beyond where you'd expect it to be.

The extended title sequence features blue-pencil comic art illustrating how graphic novelist Will Henry (Jemaine Clement, better known as half of Flight of the Conchords) met his current partner and mother of their twins, Charlie (Stephanie Allynne). As openings go, it's intriguing but not necessarily insightful. Artist Gray Williams, who provided the art, illustrates these scenes in a typical indie comics way (think Adrian Tomine) -- clean and a bit cute. It does little to tell us anything about who Will and Charlie are, however.

We first meet them in the flesh at their twins' birthday party. Will catches Charlie cheating on him with "off-Broadway monologist" Gary (Michael Chernus). It's an abrupt introduction to these characters -- especially to Charlie -- and sets up the meandering tone the movie often has.

When the story picks up a year later, Will is in bad shape, drifting through weekends with his (admittedly adorable) twin daughters (played by sisters Gia and Aundrea Gadsby) and the class he teaches on cartooning at School of Visual Arts. When a student, Kat (the amazing Jessica Williams) sets him up with her mother, Diane (Regina Hall),Will begins to question the direction of his life is taking. Or something. I think that's what we're supposed to think.

While Will should be an oblivious manchild, Clement brings such sweetness, wit and charm to the role it's hard not to root for him. His initial scenes with Diane have a playful antagonism that show someone who's smart but cautious with who he lets in. Even though the movie does have a few non-surprising scenes, like where Will fails to get his daughters to school on time -- his gentle but deep love toward his girls is honest and heartfelt. Will is not without his faults but he's man who is trying to do the best he can for his daughters and himself.

And that's really the major flaw of the movie -- as appealing of a leading man as Clement makes (and no doubt, he's already a star, but he's wonderful in this), Will has no real journey. And the major issue is with the character of Charlie.

While some of Charlie's fears and complaints are understandable -- she gave up her own ambitions for Will's career and after becoming a mother -- her character is written in a shrill, unlikable way (and introducing her while she's cheating on the father of her daughters does her no favors). Allynne does what she can with the role, but Charlie feels unfortunately selfish and flightly because the movie requires her to be. I never really felt like I understood her motivations of what Will saw in her, other than they shared a history. (It doesn't help that Clement and Allynne have little chemistry.)

But let's get back to the comics stuff, which is what interested me in this movie in the first place.

While Will's career as a graphic novelist is somewhat integral to the plot, it also too much like window-dressing. Will could've been any sort of artist -- a writer, a musician, an actor. The "comics" aspect does come across way too much as a bid for hipness, especially when it comes to a somewhat forced conversation about the relevance of comics as American literature with Diane. I have fears that "graphic novelist" will quickly become the creative occupation of choice for protagonists of indie movies.

The movie does get some comic things right, though -- Will teaches as SVA and certainly, many comic artists do. I'm not particularly sure why we're supposed to look down on Will for living in Astoria (I know people who make comics who live there happily) and I kind of want to complain there aren't enough women in Will's class (although the bit about a male student sharing his comic about learning to masturbate felt pretty on-point, complete with Will's eye-rolling exhaustion about it).

The shining star in this movie is Kat (and if there's any justice in the world, Jessica Williams will be a huge star). She's a 19-year-old black woman who wants to make comics and hangs out (or works -- it's not entirely clear) in a poorly-disguised Bergen Street Comics. She's working on a comic with her life with her mother (and the men her mother dates) and from what we see of it, it's pretty awesome. Will recognizes it's awesome too, and he shares his work-in-progress with Kat. They have an intriguing, complicated relationship that feels built on mutual respect rather than romance, In fact, when Will misreads Kat's intentions initially, she shuts him down so fast. It's refreshing to a younger woman and an older man connect on a level that's not sexual at all.

I loved that the movie recognized that it's young women who are the future of comics, and choose to represent this with a woman of color. There was not nearly enough of Kat in this movie.

If you watch the trailer, you'll know what to expect with People Places Things. It's by no means a bad movie, but it's slight and "cute" is probably the strongest word you can come up with for it. It's definitely cute. It's definitely a pleasant way to spend 90 minutes. But sadly, the more interesting elements get lost in movie that decides to hit the most obvious beats that the appealing cast can't overcome. There is a good movie about these characters (especially about Will and Kat) but this movie just isn't it.

(People Places Things is in theaters and on Video On Demand starting Aug. 14.)

Dark Star: H.R. Giger's World (2014)

On the surface, it seems like surrealist artist and set designer H.R. Giger would make a fascinating subject of a documentary. His often unsettling work has inspired and terrified millions, most notably in Alien, and his dark aesthetic has generated its own mythos. Who wouldn't want to glimpse into this world?

But despite its title, in Belinda Sallin's documentary, Dark Star: H.R. Giger's World, we don't actually explore the artist's world all that much.

We do, however, spend a lot of time exploring his yard.

A nightmarish sculpture garden featuring Giger's surreal and often horrifying work, including a fountain and a one-person train that travels through the yard, the images are striking. The lush greenery provides an amazing contrast to the frightening precision of Giger's art. But that the garden is overgrown and the sculptures have clearly seen better days make the whole scene a little sad.

In fact, the whole documentary feels a little sad. Filmed in the last year of Giger's life, the artist spends most of his screen time in black pajamas, shuffling from one room to another. While he opens up a bit and there's a few shots of him sketching, he's mostly seen watching TV or petting his cat.

Instead, most of the talking is done by an odd collection of superfans that someone came into Giger's orbit, including psychiatrist Stanislav Grof, who wrote a book about Giger; metal musician Tom Gabriel Fischer (formerly of the band Celtic Frost) who works as Giger's assistant; and current wife, Carmen Marie Giger. They go on and on about Giger's deep connection to the darkness, his ability to convey the trauma of birth, his ability to combine the organic with the mechanical and ... and ... and ... these people certainly can talk a lot about Giger without really saying anything of depth. (Giger, himself, when asked about his work tends to shrug it off with a "I just paint what I like.")

Old images and archival footage from Giger's younger days (including on the set of Alien) do bring a spark of interest to the film, but are presented without much context. Interviews with two of his former partners do reveal a certain depth and a warmer side of Giger, but there's little of that.

Maybe most egregiously, his pivotal relationship with Li Tobler, who was the model for several of his paintings, and her subsequent suicide, is somewhat glossed over as "Oh yeah, that was pretty hard" so we can return to more superfans and shots of Giger's mother-in-law complaining about 20th Century Fox and Fischer stapling papers together.

Even moments that should be emotional -- a signing at a gallery where teary-eyed fans show off their tattoos and just seemed honored to meet him -- are shot from a distance. The filmmakers didn't talk to any of these fans and we never get to find out what is going on in their heads. Instead, we get the gallery's curator talking more about darkness and the future and more related nonsense.

Sadly, Giger died just a few days after filming of Dark Star was completed, so this is likely going to be the final record (at least from him). If you're a fan of Giger's work, you'll at least get to see a lot of it. If you want to hear people sit around and say the deep things you said to each other in college, you'll get to hear that. If you want to understand who H.R. Giger was, this documentary won't do it.

That yard was pretty cool, though.

Dior and I (2014)

In a strange way, Frédéric Tcheng's documentary, Dior and I, about the iconic fashion house, reminded me most of your classic sports movie. You know the type -- a young, untested coach struggles, faces successes and setbacks, until he and his team emerge triumphant at the end.

Following the creation of designer Raf Simons' first couture collection for Dior in a scant eight-week period, the documentary has drama already built in. Will a collection from a designer mostly known for menswear be a hit? Will he be able to make his deadline? These elements are a lot of fun and clearly drive the movie's storyline.

As far as lead figures go, Simons himself is a bit too reserved to end up being the focus. While we glimpse insights into his creative process as he studies previous designs, gathers material, makes suggestions, he remains a bit odd and unknowable throughout. Even when he visits Christian Dior's house, he reveals little about himself, other than he stopped reading Dior's book because he related too much to it.

Instead, the true stars of Dior and I are all the women (and a few men) who interpret Simons' designs and sketches into fully-realized garments. And this is also where the sports metaphor comes in -- if Simons is the coach, this is his team. These people love their work, even though the hours are often thankless and the tasks are often overwhelming. It's delightful to see them roll their eyes and spend hours picking out beading as well as find inventive ways to to do the impossible. Simons may have designed these dresses, but these are the people who make them real.

It's hard not to feel a bit apprehensive once the runway show approaches. Will something go wrong in Simons' flower-soaked vision? Will the star-studded audience appreciate his collection? It's not the same drama as the final of a basketball game, no, but Tcheng gives it the weight it deserves. The giddy reactions of the workshop crew as they watch the dresses they create go down the runway feels like a victory. Simons' collection doesn't need to be a hit as long as they're happy.

The one misstep the movie makes is trying to conflate Simons' journey with that of Christian Dior's. The early voiceovers reading from Dior's own words over archival footage work, but the motif seems to be dropped pretty quickly. I liked the historical context and I would like a separate documentary about Dior, but other than that, I don't feel like those elements really added too much to the documentary as a whole. It felt like Tcheng started making one movie and ended up with another.

Dior and I is a beautiful, high-fashion confection. It's not deep but it's delightful. Getting to see the joy that the Dior crew brings to their work is wonderful and it's worth watching for that alone. Any additional insights into fashion are just bonuses.

Nightcap 12/14/14: Christmas recommendations, an award winning short film and Randi's links

If you didn’t realize it Christmas is coming. Actually the whole year-end holiday season is upon us from Chanukah, Christmas, Kwanza, Festivus and New Year (not to mention a whole slew of friends birthdays) are rapidly approaching. This is time of year when we are flooded with holiday movies and specials all aimed at getting us in the mood to deal with our families and friends.

Everyone has their own favorite holiday films and traditions. We at Unseen are no exceptions, we all have favorite films and specials that we watch every year and hold as something special.

For me, a guy who collects Christmas films and music, I have three films I always go back to:

The Bishops Wife with Cary Grant and Loretta Young. To me this holiday tale of an angel come to earth to help a bishop and his wife is my idea od what we are looking for at the holidays, not the material things but the feelings the interaction with friends and family brings. Its also weirdly one of my most spiritual films with something about it clicking into my universal view.

Closer to the way things really are is The Holly and The Ivy. This little British film is about a family full of secrets who come together to not fix everything but begin the healing process. Things are not all better at the end, instead they have been simply deflected into a more hopeful direction.

Albert Finney’s Scrooge is my choice for favorite version of a Christmas Carol. There was something about seeing this at the former Felt Forum (now theater at Madison Square Garden) when I was a kid cinched it for me. I love the music, I love the change in Scrooge. There is something about it that makes me smile.

Weirdly possibly the best representation of Christmas magic comes from the grossly under seen Always Sunset on Third Street-. This Japanese slice of life spawned several sequels. There is a sequence in the film that takes place during Christmas which had me replaying it over and over again when I saw it the first time. It’s a short little bit of a the film but there is such a flash of magic in it that it has stayed with me despite the rest of the film getting jumbled up with the sequels

Earlier this week I sent off an email to the Unseen family and several friends and I asked them what are their choices for Christmas films that people should track down. Here are the responses I got back-

My brother Joe sent me a list of films he loves:

Emmet Otter' Jug Band Christmas and John Denver Christmas with the Muppets.

The Gathering, Ernest Saves Christmas and of course Scrooge. The Bishops Wife and We're No Angels.

And there was always, Freddy The Free Loaders Christmas with Red Skelton. I had never watched it. Then one of the last times it was on I watched it and it was really good and they never showed it again.

The Ref is also a Christmas film.

Hubert chimes in with:

An unsung Rankin & Bass stop-motion film, The Life and Adventures of Santa Claus is a Santa origin story in which he was an abandoned child raised by a lioness and a fairy. There's a battle between a Gandalf-looking guy with a magic ax and an army of darkness, and framing narrative that involves a druidic council determining if Santa deserves to be an immortal. Based on an L. Frank Baum novel (yes, that L. Frank Baum), this may be one of the odder and more badass Santa Claus stories around

Matthew Monagle aka Lab Splice columnist at Paracinema, The Daily Grindhouse and various other places seemingly goes off the board but lands on target with:

I know this won't be a popular opinion, but one of my favorite parts of Christmas is sitting down to watch a movie with my parents. For most families, this would mean one-and-a-half iterations of A Christmas Story on TBS. For us, this always meant horror films and Lord of the Rings. My mother is the dominant movie-watcher in my household; when they sit down to watch something, she usually pulls up some new creature feature off Netflix and subjects my dad to ninety minutes of low-budget schlock. The one movie she loves most of all - mostly because of its wonderful first ten minutes - is Ghost Ship, starring Gabriel Byrne and that cocky detective from Dexter. It's not great, but it's beloved in the household, and that means it has a soft spot in my heart. As for my dad? All Lord of the Rings, all the time. The holidays is usually when he embarks upon an epic re-watch of all three extended editions, back-to-back-to-back. Maybe Ghost Ship and LOTR is not the typical Christmas re-watch in your household, but in mine, they're just as festive as mistletoe and gingerbread houses.

Eden makes two recommendations:

Christmas at Pee-Wee's Playhouse: Pee-Wee always embraced a childlike quirkiness in his work, but it's never on bigger display than in Christmas at Pee-Wee's Playhouse. The strange group of celebrity guests stars (everyone from Grace Jones to K.D. Lang to Little Richard) and the kind-hearted lessons taught here feel oddly out-of-time and continue to bring delight more than 25 years later.

Invader Zim: The Most Horrible X-Mas Ever: Invader Zim was one of the weirder things to ever appear on Nickelodeon (let's give the creator best known of a comic called Johnny the Homicidal Maniac his own cartoon for kids!). So, of course any Christmas special was going to ramp up the show's often bleak humor. Zim decides to take over the world by impersonating Santa and things don't quite go as well as he thought (as things tend to do for Zim). It's a playfully dark antidote to the season's usual overt sentimentality.

Joe Bendel of Libertas Film Magazine and JB Spins offers:

For me, Christmas always means one thing: watching Jewish films, because I really start working on NYJFF screeners during the company break between Christmas and New Years. However, if there is one Christmas movie I could re-watch it would be the French serving of Bah Humbug diplomatically translated as SANTA STINKS. I covered it a few years ago when MoMA programmed it and its a thing of shameless beauty:

http://jbspins.blogspot.com/2011/12/santa-stinks-en-francais.html


And I have to ask what are your choices for must see holiday films/specials? Either respond below or email me. If I get responses I’ll post them next week.
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The video at the top is from Melanie the daughter of Sam Juliano, one of the minds from Wonders in the Dark and a good friend. The film won the Jersey Filmmaker of Tomorrow Award
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And we end with more of Randi's links:

World's coolest movie theaters
A young Jane Fonda gets the heat for a fail Broadway show
Less well loved Altman films on Bluray
Wind creatures
The last Thanksgiving at Joan Rivers apartment
Trying to  locate a lost love of the Holocaust
ugly renaissance babies
Who killed the color of the new Paul Schrader film?
Lets gossip- the leaked Sony Emails
Great movie sequels
Recent torture revelations cast doubt on chunks of Zero Dark Thirty
Is art cinema dead?
Best Superhero movies since Blade?
On the Unbroken controversy in Japan
Every Star Trek episode ranked

Comic Book Confidential (1988)

Why don't more people talk about this movie?

I, after all, read a lot of comics. I talk about comics a lot. I read blogs and books about comics.

But until I came across it streaming on Netflix last year, I had never heard of it. (At least, to my knowledge.)

Independent comics have been a "thing" since the 1960s, but even now, they tend to be overlooked in favor of their mainstream counterparts. And that's understandable, certainly, but it's amazing to see a documentary from nearly 25 years ago covering this scene with intelligence and respect. It still feels relevant now, especially when taking into account how many of the creators here, such as Lynda Barry, Charles Burns and Jaime Hernandez, are still very much making comics.

Free of narration, Ron Mann's movie has a playful tone. There's a brief overview of the history of comics that uses archival footage to make its points. Mostly, though, the focus is on the creators. Mann doesn't ignore the superhero side of things -- Stan Lee and Jack Kirby are featured here -- but it's primarily about the alternative scene.

Lightly animated and narrated pages from various comics make the focus about the work itself and what it means -- to both creators and fans. I love that the comics themselves get to play such a prominent role in this film. It's a good introduction to the medium for people who may not be familiar with it. I think is a great, entertaining gateway into what comics are all about. It's also a great companion (although it has much higher production values) to the more recent Independents (or rather, Independents is a great companion for this one).

(Just as a note: Everyone looks so young! It's amazing to me! I also love the long-haired Frank Miller toward the end being all self-important. If you like comics and were maybe too young for some of this the first time around, it's a lot of fun to watch it just for that.)

The Movies of Moebius: Masters of the Universe (1987)

This movie is just silly.

It's clearly dumb fun, but even calling it "fun" may be overselling it somewhat. Masters of the Universe is not a good movie, but at least it's entertaining, despite itself.

The Eternia stuff is obviously where all the money went. The huge sets and complicated costumes are attractive and inventive (it's also a rare movie where our main hero is wearing fewer clothes than the female characters). Sure, this movie is based on a toy line, but these parts look better than they have any right to. I think just about everyone would've loved to have seen a movie completely based in this environment, but that wasn't to be the case.

No, instead, we get to spend most of our time on present-day earth with a couple of teenagers who get mixed up in He-Man and friends' dimension-hopping adventures. The generic small-town sets are such an apparent cost-cutting measure and that does feel annoying, but fortunately, there's not too much time spent on the "what is this strange world we've found ourselves in?" stuff.

Dolph Lundgren, as He-Man, is not nearly as bad of an actor as you'd expect him to be. He actually carries the film pretty well with an innocent nobility. Still, he does seem to be thinking really hard about his acting, although it works. Frank Langella's performance as Skeletor is appropriately hammy. Everyone else is largely interchangeable or forgettable, but you're not watching this movie for the performances.

Moebius is credited as "special designer" on this movie, which is about as vague as you can get, but there does seem to be his touches in terms of set design and styling of the costumes. All that stuff is great. There's just not enough of it.

But there are enough battles (with swords! and lasers!), reasonable PG-rated violence and explosions to keep Masters of the Universe mostly entertaining. But except for the Eternia stuff, it's also mostly forgettable.

The Movies of Moebius: Willow (1988)

While doing this project, I've hesitated to link to any of Moebius' concept art for these films. Partially, I figure that most people know how to use Google and these images are pretty easy to find, but I've wanted to judge want makes it on screen more than what could have been.

But with Willow, I think it's absolutely a case of "what could have been." Moebius' concept images for Willow are striking, colorful and original. What is on screen is dull, muddy and unsurprising.

And sadly, it's those elements that keeps this movie from fully working. If the production had been better, so would have been the movie.

The plot isn't really anything new -- you have an unlikely hero in Willow (WarwickDavis) on a quest who acquires a few sidekicks along the way. Some are powerful, such as Madmartigan (Val Kilmer). Some are just annoying, like the Brownies. Most events are telegraphed in advance -- the audience is flat-out told that evil Queen Bavmorda's (Jean Marsh) daughter, Sorsha (Joanne Whalley) is going to betray her. And if you're thinking harm is going to come to baby Elora, you probably haven't seen a movie before.

In director Ron Howard's hands, the movie is overly deliberate and long. You know what's going to happen and basically how, so getting through it is a a bit of a slog. (It might be different if you're say, between the ages of 8 and 11, however. This may be exciting.) There are only a few inspired moments -- a wormlike two-headed dragon and the skull mask of the General Kael.

It does get a little more intense toward the end, but it never really becomes much of anything.

So really, it just leaves you with the idea that it could have been good. It could have been visionary (even with special effects that haven't aged too well). It could have been fun (even with uneven acting). Looking at Moebius' concept art, you see it could have been bright and weird and playful. Instead, it's just a by-the-numbers fantasy adventure we ended up with.

Independents: A Guide for the Creative Spirit (2007)

Why make comics? Especially as an independent creator? While comics have become much more respectable in recent years, you're going to spend too much time explaining the art form to people. You're unlikely to make much money doing so (and, in fact, it's much more likely you're going to lose money). You can't really expect to get famous, although if you're lucky, you'll get the respect and admiration of a group of fans and of your peers.

Why make comics? You make comics because you love it. You make comics because you can't imagine not making comics.

Now, I personally do not make comics (I did once, with a friend, when we were 17, but that was it). I read enough of them, though, and I've met enough creators to know that these people have stories to tell and they can't tell them any other way. Many are great writers and many are great artists, but it's through the unique combination of words and artwork that something completely new happens -- it's intimate, immediate and affecting in ways other media can never be.

Chris Brandt's 2007 documentary talks with a diverse group of creators -- everyone from Wendy Pini (Elfquest) and Kevin Eastman (Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles) to Craig Thompson (Blankets and the upcoming Habibi) and Jessica Abel (La Perdida) as well as behind-the-scenes people like Scott Allie of Dark Horse Comics, Dan Vado of Slave Labor Graphics (SLG Publishing) as Gary Groth of Fantagraphics and even San Francisco comic book retailer James Sime of Isotope Comics.

It's not the most exciting documentary you'll ever see, no. It's framed by unnecessary sequences with Yale Ph.D. James Kaufman giving some psychological background into the creative impulse, but mostly, it's just a documentary of people talking to the camera. Everyone, for the most part, has intelligent things to say, though, and it is edited extremely well -- segments are neither too long or too short and lead into each other thematically. Of course knowing who these creators are (even in passing) probably makes it more interesting, but at less than 80 minutes, it goes by very quickly.

This is a small movie -- in production values, in subject matter -- and it's clearly not going to change anyone's life. But it may change someone's mind about comics. And for those of us still needing ways to explain all of this to people, I think this documentary is a good starting point.

(The website for this movie is selling it as Comic Book Independents: The Creative Power of the Graphic Novel. As far as I can tell, it's the same movie. I went with this title because it's the version I have.)

The Movies of Moebius: Little Nemo: Adventures in Slumberland (1989)

This is a mess.

It's a mess that's not without its charms, but Little Nemo: Adventures in Slumberland is still pulling in several directions at once. It doesn't even feel like a movie made by committee -- a "committee" at least implies some kind of coherency of vision, however mediocre the end result may be. This movie has no focus.

Nominally based on Winsor McCay's comic strip Little Nemo in Sumberland, this went through several producers, writers and directors before eventually getting made -- including Gary Kurtz, Hayao Miyazaki (who reportedly said it was one of the worst professional experiences), Ray Bradbury, Brad Bird, Brian Froud and Chris Columbus. Moebius wrote one version of the script (he ended up with a story credit) and created some concept art.

Not surprisingly, the aesthetic here is all over the place. The character design veers from cutesy to strange to scary, often all in one scene. The pacing is odd, with punchlines and reactions either coming a beat too late or a beat too soon. The plot feels cobbled together, almost as if someone vaguely described the formula of Disney movies ("there's a princess, a hero, an animal sidekick, some songs, and a bad guy!") and this was the best everyone could come up with based on that.

Still, there's some fantastic segments -- the opening where Nemo is trying to escape a runaway train on his bed is remarkable, and there are a few nightmarish sequences as Nemo's house floods or as he and his friends try to escape demon-like creatures. Slumberland is rendered in beautifully cheerful pastels. The final battle with the Nightmare King seems like the only time Moebius' work on this movie seems to show through, but it also feels a bit out of place.

But then again, most elements of this movie feel out of place when viewed next to each other, so maybe in another way, that part does fit right in.

I want to like Little Nemo: Adventures in Slumberland and despite myself, part of me does admire it, even though I spent most of the movie either marveling at how odd it was and waiting for it to be over. There is something kind of fun about it, but with all the talent the movie went through in its long production history, it's too bad it didn't end up as something better.

The Movies of Moebius: Les Maîtres du temps (1982)

Les Maîtres du temps (also known as Masters of Time) seems like it should be great. It was directed by René Laloux and designed by Moebius. The two of them should have been able to create a visionary masterpiece of animation.

And the truth is, they did, if you adjust your expectations a little.

Although based on the 1958 novel The Orphan of Perdide by Stefan Wul, the plot is secondary to the visuals. It's mostly about a boy named Piel who is stranded on a planet and space pirate Jaffar is sent to go save him.

Or something. As much danger Piel seems to be in, Jaffar and evil exiled prince Matton, his sister Belle, and old friend Silbad spend a lot of time talking and more or less just kind of hanging out. There's little urgency in terms rescuing Piel. And weird stuff that has nothing to do with anything happens -- like a planet where everyone turns into faceless angels and Piel encounters strange creatures on the planet he's on. It goes absolutely nowhere fast, until a resolution comes out of nowhere.

But to want a plot from this movie is maybe asking a bit too much. It is, rightfully so, all about the trippy -- and usually beautiful -- visuals. Much time in spent deliberating over the freaky angel-like creatures and alien landscapes. Two childlike creatures named Yula and Jad have their share of screen time, discussing various philosophical concepts about living. The film's not about the ultimate goal of saving Piel -- it's about everything that leads us to there.

Still, this is the kind of movie you're either going to connect with or you're not. I don't think there's too much middle ground. If the odd and often complexly dazzling look of the movie and its purposeful pacing doesn't appeal to you, Les Maîtres du temps will probably just confuse you at best or bore you at worst.

I know both Moebius and Laloux were disappointed with the final product, but that actually makes me a little sad. The movie is far from perfect, but in many ways, its imperfections is its strength. A more straightforward film would not have been as interesting, even if it would've been more satisfying.

The Movies of Moebius: The Abyss (1989)

The aliens almost make this movie worth it.

This is probably the most James Cameron-y of all of James Cameron's movies. You have a working class hero in Bud (Ed Harris), a "strong" female lead in Lindsey (Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio), who everyone refers to as a "bitch" even though we don't see it as audience. You have some hot-shot military guys as antagonists, as well as the elements of nature itself (in this case, the deep sea). You have plenty of special effects and action sequences, clunky dialogue, a bloated running time and some goofy, preachy philosophizing.

But the designs for the aliens -- which were conceived by Moebius -- almost make the movie work. They are both familiar and foreign and their flickering lights and graceful beauty make it easy to understand why the characters feel such awe when they see them. Even though some of the effects look dated now (the computer generated stuff isn't blended very well with the human characters), there is still something affecting about these scenes.

Still, the movie is mostly a slog. There's no reason it needs to be nearly three hours long, and the exciting parts are dragged down by slow, excruciating drama. The underwater scenes are certainly thrilling, but there's never a moment where what's going to happen is ever a question. Everything is telegraphed so far ahead of time it's easy for you to just want Cameron to get to the point.

Only the bizarre shift into preachiness toward the end -- the aliens are upset with us because we don't get along! -- is surprising. The aliens' underwater city is breathtaking and transporting, but those scenes feel like they belong in another movie. Maybe in a movie that's better.

In the end, The Abyss is what it is -- a James Cameron movie with some cool-looking creatures designed by Moebius. There's not much more to it than that.

The Movies of Moebius: Alien (1979)

To be clear, the spacesuits in Ridley Scott's Alien are the only thing Moebius designed to make it into the movie. (Although much of the inspiration did come from Heavy Metal magazine, so Moebius probably had more influence that just that.)

Of course, they're cool spacesuits.

At its core, it's a simple horror movie -- a terrible monster is on the loose and kills the crew of a spaceship one by one. There's not much more to it than that. And sure, that might be scary anyway, but in Alien, all the elements of design add up to make it terrifying.

H.R. Giger gets most of the attention here, and probably rightfully so, since he is responsible for most of what viewers remember, but everything from the interiors to the costumes make this world believable and uncomfortably claustrophobic even before the alien shows up.

So while something like the spacesuits may seem like a relatively minor thing in the movie, they do contribute to the overall feel. They are both sinewy and bulky and the bubble helmets with overhanging lights make the characters feel shut in and restrained even when they're out of the ship.

And that feeling of being stuck is what makes the movie work. We've all seen movies where characters who don't know or necessarily like each other are put into a terrible situation and have to learn to work together or trust each other. That's nothing new. And while the script and the acting is impressive, that's not quite what makes it so scary. They are trapped -- that's where the terror comes from.

Alien remains scary because all of the elements add to one mood. Even if one of those elements just seems trivial at first -- they're just spacesuits, for instance -- it would've been a lesser movie without it.