It’s supposed to be difficult to invade someone’s privacy.

Citizenfour

(2014)

I can only put the Best Documentary Feature Oscar victory of Citizenfour down to voting for the issue rather than the content. Which is okay, as far as that sort of thing goes. The Academy Awards has long history of rewarding touchstone issues or sentimental plights over actual quality, and the Edward Snowden “revelations” that we are all surveyed all the time by the NSA, GCHQ or whoever it maybe are as deserving of getting behind as any. It’s just a shame Laura Poitras’ film is so shallow and undemanding, bringing of nothing new to what we already knew (aside from the conclusion’s tantaliser of further, as yet unglimpsed, whistleblowing).

There’s little here anyone following the media storm that erupted in the middle of 2013 won’t be familiar with, an this doesn’t even attempt to be densely packed summation of the revelations to date and where we stand (one seriously doubts that Oliver Stone’s fiction movie telling will service this either, even given his previous form with JFK; it will probably end up close to the more reserved W.) So what about its value as an insight into Snowden himself, the Citizenfour of the title? Poitras’ big claim to fame for the doc is that she can show off the interviews she and Glenn Greenwald conducted with Ed in June of that year, but do they provide any insights we hadn’t hitherto gleaned?

Not really. If anything, they further emphasis how extraordinarily prepossessed, collected, and immensely erudite Snowden is, from his rehearsed-sounding motivation onwards. For someone who said in an email to Poitras (she narrates his initial contact) that he is not a writer, you have to wonder if he is kidding. Sure, there are glimmers of nervousness and tension as fire alarms go off, phones ring and he eventually takes flight, but throughout there is an infusion of calm, he says because he has already been through the consequences of his actions.

And he probably has, but it isn’t really surprising some were instantly crying foul, that he himself was a stooge of the Illuminati, witting or otherwise, serving an agenda for which he dragged along a couple of journalists after a big scoop (similar suggestions have been made of a previous biggest conspiratorial scoop, Watergate; there are always conspiracy theories within conspiracy theories).

The purpose, if he was merely a puppet? Some have suggested it’s part of the elite’s occult methodology that they have to inform the public, whose lack of revolt can be taken as tacit endorsement Alternatively, the same revelations merely serve to emphasis the futility of resistance. While Citizenfour raises the point about the lack of anyone giving much of a shit when it comes down to it (certainly not enough to peel back the intrusion, not that closing the stable door would do any good now), or responding in an incendiary way, it never seeks to get to grips with it. And that, surely, is the essential point to take away from this in the time since those first interviews. It’s not the cries of Ed being a traitor, or casting aspersions over his new life in Russia; it’s that nothing he has put out there has made a jot of difference.

The most interesting parts of the doc don’t actually feature Snowden, but one of his whistleblowing predecessors, William Binney. But the only surprise in this part is his assertion that the NSA was not enacting mass surveillance prior to 9/11. The cynic says of course they were; they were doing it as soon as they had the capability. Such a view, naturally, reflects the passivity and impotence the main players in the doc are concerned about, but one feels one is watching slightly disingenuous responses when Greenwald oohs and ahs about the substance of Snowden’s information; how did they not conceive this was happening anyway? It’s not dissimilar to the way some still pursue the line that there was ever any major belief during the WMD debacle that there was substance to those claims; no one with a semblance of wits about them would have been taken in, as it was right there for all to read between the lines at the time.

Generally, Poitras’ doc feels on the cobbled together side. Citizenfour is smoothly accessible and watchable but shallow and loose fitting, it’s observations and insights disappointingly bland coming from someone so close to the material. Perhaps it will take someone else to really put this is in perspective, probably someone not in the mainstream media (so none of the producer credits, raging from HBO, to Channel 4 or the ever-loving Soderbergh) and willing to consider all angles of the story, and how far the tentacles may extend behind the scenes.

Comments

I just hope my death makes more cents than my life.

Joker (2019)
(SPOILERS) So the murder sprees didn’t happen, and a thousand puff pieces desperate to fan the flames of such events and then told-ya-so have fallen flat on their faces. The biggest takeaway from Joker is not that the movie is an event, when once that seemed plausible but not a given, but that any mainstream press perspective on the picture appears unable to divorce its quality from its alleged or actual politics. Joker may be zeitgeisty, but isn’t another Taxi Driver in terms of cultural import, in the sense that Taxi Driver didn’t have a Taxi Driver in mind when Paul Schrader wrote it. It is, if you like, faux-incendiary, and can only ever play out on that level. It might be more accurately described as a grubbier, grimier (but still polished and glossy) The Talented Ripley, the tale of developing psychopathy, only tailored for a cinemagoing audience with few options left outside of comic book fare.

My name is Dr. King Schultz, this is my valet, Django, and these are our horses, Fritz, and Tony.

Django Unchained (2012)
(MINOR SPOILERS) Since the painful misstep of Grindhouse/Death Proof, Quentin Tarantino has regained the higher ground like never before. Pulp Fiction, his previous commercial and critical peak, has been at very least equalled by the back-to-back hits of Inglourious Basterds and Django Unchained. Having been underwhelmed by his post Pulp Fiction efforts (albeit, I admired his technical advances as a director in Kill Bill), I was pleasantly surprised by Inglourious Basterds. It was no work of genius (so not Pulp Fiction) by any means, but there was a gleeful irreverence in its treatment of history and even to the nominal heroic status of its titular protagonists. Tonally, it was a good fit for the director’s “cool” aesthetic. As a purveyor of postmodern pastiche, where the surface level is the subtext, in some ways he was operating at his zenith. Django Unchained is a retreat from that position, the director caught in the tug between his all-important aesthetic pr…

This is very cruel, Oskar. You're giving them hope. You shouldn't do that.

Schindler’s List (1993)
(SPOILERS) Such is the status of Schindler’s List, it all but defies criticism; it’s the worthiest of all the many worthy Best Picture Oscar winners, a film noble of purpose and sensitive in the treatment and depiction of the Holocaust as the backdrop to one man’s redemption. There is much to admire in Steven Spielberg’s film. But it is still a Steven Spielberg film. From a director whose driving impulse is the manufacture of popcorn entertainments, not intellectual introspection. Which means it’s a film that, for all its commendable features, is made to manipulate its audience in the manner of any of his “lesser” genre offerings. One’s mileage doubtless varies on this, but for me there are times during this, his crowning achievement, where the berg gets in the way of telling the most respectful version of this story by simple dint of being the berg. But then, to a great or lesser extent, this is true of almost all, if not all, his prestige pictures.

I'm reliable, I'm a very good listener, and I'm extremely funny.

Terminator: Dark Fate (2019)
(SPOILERS) When I wrote my 23 to see in 2019, I speculated that James Cameron might be purposefully giving his hand-me-downs to lesser talents because he hubristically didn’t want anyone making a movie that was within a spit of the proficiency we’ve come to expect from him. Certainly, Robert Rodriguez and Tim Miller are leagues beneath Kathryn Bigelow, Jimbo’s former spouse and director of his Strange Days screenplay. Miller’s no slouch when it comes to action – which is what these movies are all about, let’s face it – but neither is he a craftsman, so all those reviews attesting that Terminator: Dark Fate is the best in the franchise since Terminator 2: Judgment Day may be right, but there’s a considerable gulf between the first sequel (which I’m not that big a fan of) and this retcon sequel to that sequel.

She writes Twilight fan fiction.

Vampire Academy (2014)
My willingness to give writer Daniel Waters some slack on the grounds of early glories sometimes pays off (Sex and Death 101) and sometimes, as with this messy and indistinct Young Adult adaptation, it doesn’t. If Vampire Academy plods along as a less than innovative smart-mouthed Buffy rip-off that might be because, if you added vampires to Heathers, you would probably get something not so far from the world of Joss Whedon. Unfortunately inspiration is a low ebb throughout, not helped any by tepid direction from Daniel’s sometimes-reliable brother Mark and a couple of hopelessly plankish leads who do their best to dampen down any wit that occasionally attempts to surface.

I can only presume there’s a never-ending pile of Young Adult fiction poised for big screen failure, all of it comprising multi-novel storylines just begging for a moment in the Sun. Every time an adaptation crashes and burns (and the odds are that they will) another one rises, hydra-like, hoping…

And my father was a real ugly man.

Marty (1955)
(SPOILERS) It might be the very unexceptional good-naturedness of Marty that explains its Best Picture Oscar success. Ernest Borgnine’s Best Actor win is perhaps more immediately understandable, a badge of recognition for versatility, having previously attracted attention for playing iron-wrought bastards. But Marty also took the Palme d’Or, and it’s curious that its artistically-inclined jury fell so heavily for its charms (it was the first American picture to win the award; Lost Weekend won the Grand Prix when that was still the top award).

Exit bear, pursued by an actor.

Paddington 2 (2017)
(SPOILERS) Paddington 2 is every bit as upbeat and well-meaning as its predecessor. It also has more money thrown at it, a much better villain (an infinitely better villain) and, in terms of plotting, is more developed, offering greater variety and a more satisfying structure. Additionally, crucially, it succeeds in offering continued emotional heft and heart to the Peruvian bear’s further adventures. It isn’t, however, quite as funny.

Even suggesting such a thing sounds curmudgeonly, given the universal applause greeting the movie, but I say that having revisited the original a couple of days prior and found myself enjoying it even more than on first viewing. Writer-director Paul King and co-writer Simon Farnaby introduce a highly impressive array of set-ups with huge potential to milk their absurdity to comic ends, but don’t so much squander as frequently leave them undertapped.

Paddington’s succession of odd jobs don’t quite escalate as uproariously as they migh…

You ever heard the saying, “Don’t rob the bank across from the diner that has the best donuts in three counties”?

2 Guns (2013)
(SPOILERS) Denzel Washington is such a reliable performer, that it can get a bit boring. You end up knowing every gesture or inflection in advance, whether he’s playing a good guy or a bad guy. And his films are generally at least half decent, so you end up seeing them. Even in Flight (or perhaps especially in Flight; just watch him chugging down that vodka) where he’s giving it his Oscar-nominatable best, he seems too familiar. I think it may be because he’s an actor who is more effective the less he does. In 2 Guns he’s not doing less, but sometimes it seems like it. That’s because the last person I’d ever expect blows him off the screen; Mark Wahlberg.

The world is one big hospice with fresh air.

Doctor Sleep (2019)
(SPOILERS) Doctor Sleep is a much better movie than it probably ought to be. Which is to say, it’s an adaption of a 2013 novel that, by most accounts, was a bit of a dud. That novel was a sequel to The Shining, one of Stephen King’s most beloved works, made into a film that diverged heavily, and in King’s view detrimentally, from the source material. Accordingly, Mike Flanagan’s Doctor Sleep also operates as a follow up to the legendary Kubrick film. In which regard, it doesn’t even come close. And yet, judged as its own thing, which can at times be difficult due to the overt referencing, it’s an affecting and often effective tale of personal redemption and facing the – in this case literal – ghosts of one’s past.

There’s nothing stock about a stock car.

Days of Thunder (1990)
(SPOILERS) The summer of 1990 was beset with box office underperformers. Sure-thing sequels – Another 48Hrs, Robocop 2, Gremlins 2: The New Batch, The Exorcist III, even Back to the Future Part III – either belly flopped or failed to hit the hoped for highs, while franchise hopefuls – Dick Tracy, Arachnophobia – most certainly did not ascend to the stratospheric levels of the previous year’s Batman. Even the big hitters, Total Recall and Die Hard 2: Die Harder, were somewhat offset by costing a fortune in the first place. Price-tag-wise, Days of Thunder, a thematic sequel to the phenomenon that was Top Gun, was in their category. Business-wise, it was definitely in the former. Tom Cruise didn’t quite suffer his first misfire since Legend – he’d made charmed choices ever since playing Maverick – but it was a close-run thing.

Now In Full Color, with a Happier Ending

Search This Blog