Posts by Dan Holland

France is a country that is absolutely saturated by a rich cinematic history. Beginning in the late 1890’s with the Lumière Brothers and their Cinématographe, traveling to the middle of the century with Cahiers du Cinéma, the French New Wave, and Cinéma Vérité; all the way to more contemporary French cinema. The country still makes incredible waves that influence the film industry. Interestingly, the term “film noir” came directly from French film critics, commenting on the low-key lighting used in many of the gangster films of that time period, calling them “black films” or “dark films.” It wasn’t until the 1970’s that Auteurs began to intentionally make film noir, however, the characteristics of classic film noir were not lost on French filmmakers who consumed these “dark films” as means of inspiration

This grouping from Film Movement has been my favorite to date. The theme that ties these films together is what I would label as “art as process.” Each film revolves around the philosophies of making, practicing, refining, and reflecting upon one’s own art. Featuring one narrative and two documentaries, this grouping really foregrounds the importance of the messiness when it comes to process. In order to be a true artist, a true expert in your craft, you can’t be afraid to get messy: to fail before persevering. My Art, The Paris Opera, and Conduct! Every Move Counts each share an appreciation for failure and the seeds of success it plants within aspiring artists, both young and old.

As with Vol. 4 of Film Movement’s Festival Picks, this grouping of films is tied together by a very specific theme: estranged father figures. On the whole, this set of films has a much better pacing than its preceding volume, but it is not without pockets of slow-moving story. However, I feel that there is something naturally compelling about an estranged family member within a narrative, as it provides a conflict that seems to write itself. The most interesting aspect of this collection is the different ways in which each relationship is reconciled. In Jermal, the relationship between father and son is repaired through hardships. In The Girl in Yellow Boots, the relationship is rekindled negatively. And in Entre Nos, the relationship is abandoned.

Volume four of Film Movement’s Festival Favorites series features three films with female leads. While these certainly aren’t the worst films I have seen, the pacing of each of these films make them hard to watch; So Bright is the View especially. Each film has a significant social critique that might be worth the watch if you have the patience to find it, but it definitely takes a special kind of filmgoer to really appreciate these types of films. In addition to each film featuring a female lead, they each hail from a different country, which seems to be important for each film’s message. A Blast from Greece, Soldate Jeanette from France, and So Bright is the View from Romania.

Often times, biographical documentaries are release posthumously, essentially immortalizing the spirit of the subject. In the case of Shadowman, street artist Richard Hambleton remained alive to be featured in the documentary and see his work be shared at a number of festivals before his death in October of 2017. Now, thanks to Storyville Films, you can take a look at the life and work of Richard Hambleton, as he emerges from the shadows – so to speak. Quite figuratively working in the shadows of other giants such as Andy Warhol, Keith Haring, and Jean-Michel Basquiat, Richard Hambleton is quite the understated artist. This documentary explores his life and his art, and more importantly, how the two communicate with one another.

Cinema is a beautiful thing, and it is really special when a film can remind you of its beauty. So often are we blinded by genre conventions: we want to see the gore of horror, feel the laughter of comedy, or the tears of drama. Yes, the films we watch are all indeed beautiful in their own right, but not every film captures the pure essence of cinema. In Search of Fellini delivers that essence on all fronts, whether it be through cinematography, on-location shooting in Italy, stylistic editing, or the fantastic acting. Naming your film after a man who’s widely considered to be a master of his craft sets the bar of expectations very high by default, and this film cleared the hurdle with no problems.

What exactly is the purpose of an art museum? Oftentimes, people travel from all over the world to visit Da Vinci’s “Mona Lisa” at The Louvre or Seurat’s “A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte,” spending upwards of $50 on admission only to stand in line for a chance to see. That is just one of many issues covered in #artoffline, a documentary created for the sole purpose of exploring the philosophical questions that arise when thinking of art (physical media) in the digital age.

I always have a significant degree of excitement when watching a film that takes place in Florida, especially when it is filmed in a place I either live or have lived. The Punisher (2004) was filmed in downtown Tampa, and Miami Connection (1987) in downtown Orlando and the University of Central Florida’s campus. To further explain this excitement, I even waited till 3 AM on a busy street in Seminole Heights, Tampa, hoping to get a chance to see a part of The Infiltrator (2016) when they began filming here. Inoperable does indeed take place in the Tampa area of Florida, but you really only come to understand that through the dialog.

Neo-Liberalism is a concept that was introduced to me in 2014 while I was in graduate school. In an effort not to bore the reader and save my own amateur understanding from ridicule, I will not discuss the philosophical musings at length. However, I will briefly offer what I take to be the “important things to know” for reading this review. Essentially, Neo-Liberalism began as an economic ideology favoring policies that allow private businesses to function while uninhibited by the government. Then, from about the 1970’s onward, Western scholars brought popularity back to the term, allowing it to take on the characteristics of a catch-all term that ranges from economic structure, to economic philosophy, to academic discourse.

Low-budget films are typically very hit-or-miss for me. Sometimes the story is engaging from the beginning; other times the cinematography is so creative that I just can’t stop watching the movement of the camera. However, sometimes the film is extremely slow-paced and uninteresting. When it comes to Candy Apple, it is very difficult to place it on either of those two ends of the spectrum. From the outset, you can tell this film is extremely personal to the filmmaker, and while that might not draw in crowds, it opened up an infinite number of doors leading to creative freedom. That being said, I can’t say that I liked this film, but I can say that I couldn’t stop watching it.