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the breakfast table: An e-mail conversation about the news of the day.

Phillip Lopate and Geoffrey O'Brien

from: Geoffrey O'Brien

Subtitles, Fantasy, Chinese Tradition, and Michelle Yeoh

Posted Tuesday, March 20, 2001, at 6:01 PM ET

Dear Phillip,

Crouching Tiger makes the top of my list, too, though I had some reservations. Unlike you I adore martial arts movies--not indiscriminately, but certainly my life would have been poorer without certain films of King Hu (A Touch of Zen, The Fate of Lee Khan, Dragon Gate Inn) or Chang Cheh (Seven Blows of the Dragon, The Five Deadly Venoms). It used to be so nice to go down to Chinatown and see the latest Shaw Brothers epic (invariably coupled with a sex comedy) on a summer afternoon, but all the theaters have closed now, replaced by hole-in-the-wall video stores. (Another great thing about martial arts movies was the way the stunning posters brightened up that neighborhood.) At best there was always an element of mysterious beauty along with the kicks. ... Anyway, my reservations about Crouching Tiger had more to do with critical claims that Ang Lee was doing something unprecedented when really he's drawing (as he'd be first to admit) on a long and rich tradition. Including the foregrounding of powerful women (check out Xu Feng, Angela Mao, and other stars of the '60s). But I agree completely about Michelle Yeoh. This is screen magic.



Ditto on Traffic. The cross-cutting works fine, just as it did for D. W. Griffith in 1916, but each of the stories taken in isolation is fairly banal. Think of what it could have been if the script had really explored the ramifications of the drug trade in more complex fashion. (True, it might have taken another hour or so of screen time.) There was no suggestion, for example, that the war on drugs has economic benefits for police forces, communities, prison employees, etc., or any hint of the hard ideological lines that have kept drug policy in total stasis for decades. One was left to imagine that the only problem is a certain muddled indecisiveness on the part of American officials. (Thinking about genuinely complex movies about such issues, I recall Sidney Lumet's Prince of the City. I also recall that it bombed commercially precisely because of that complexity.)

So, yes, I will be rooting for Tiger, for subtitles, for fantasy, for Chinese tradition, for Michelle Yeoh (and Chow Yun-fat, too).

Best,
Geoffrey

from: Geoffrey O'Brien

Subtitles, Fantasy, Chinese Tradition, and Michelle Yeoh

Posted Tuesday, March 20, 2001, at 6:01 PM ET
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Phillip Lopate is an essayist, novelist, and film buff whose last book was a collection of movie criticism, Totally, Tenderly, Tragically. Geoffrey O'Brien is the editor in chief of the Library of America and the author of numerous books, including The Phantom Empire: Movies in the Mind of the Twentieth Century.
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[Thursday Notes from the Fray Editor: So Phillip Lopate came into the Fray too, to answer the A.O.Scott post below, and Mr Scott answered him, and then David Edelstein thought it was all getting too friendly, and really we recommend you read the whole thread (starts here), no actually we are imploring you to read it, because it is one of the great Fray feuding threads, with posts titled "A.O. Wimps Out" and "By God Mr Edelstein" and a mention of effete drivel. There are special extra insults from star posters and others, plus this unmissable summary of the action from Fray favorite Joseph Britt ("What are these people arguing about? [Is it]... that anyway House of Mirth was supposed to be grim, a bummer and/or a downer but is nonetheless worthy for other reasons, so the Times' critics' criticism is wrong. Have I got it?"). Neill Hamilton--a trouble-maker if ever we saw one--tried to help Mr Britt out, below.]


While the posts appear to be trading blows about the movie The House of Mirth, it appears that they are arguing about certain hidden issues. A.O.Scott is arguing that the New York Times is not as fun as a frat party, and never will be if he can help it. Edelstein is arguing that he prefers Gillian Anderson in the X-Files, altho' he misses Mulder. Zeit for some reason wanted to talk about the only Art movie he has ever seen, and Lopate's point is only known to him. I hope this helps.

--Neill Hamilton

(To reply, click here.)



[Wednesday Notes from the Fray Editor: Some rumbling in the film critics' ranks here. Did the New York Times diss House of Mirth like frat boys? A.O.Scott says no, below. And Slate's movie critic David Edelstein is in The Fray arguing too. There are comments on individual films throughout. To take random examples, a defense of Manhattan, and the excellent question "Where was Wonder Boys?". (If there was a post agreeing that The Leopard is one of the best films ever made, we would feature it too.) Microcinemas are discussed here. And (we are filing under the heading "good to know if true") how posting on The Fray can protect you from Alzheimer's, here.]


Mr. Lopate writes:

House of Mirth got lambasted by the New York Times critics for being a downer, as if they were reviewing for their college frat paper.

What is his source for this ridiculous contention? There are three film critics at the Times: Elvis Mitchell, Stephen Holden, and me. To my knowledge (and his), Mitchell has never written about House of Mirth, and my only published remarks about the film came in a Slate "Movie Club," in which I said that while I admired Davies's visual technique, I found the movie emotionally inert. So perhaps Mr. Lopate is referring to Stephen Holden's review, which ran when House of Mirth was shown at the New York Film Festival. But while Holden did describe the movie's depiction of New York society as "grim" and "bleak," he did not fault (much less "lambaste" or "despise") House of Mirth for its somber mood. Rather, he thought Gillian Anderson was miscast as Lily Bart, and found most of the secondary characters one-dimensional.

The implication that "the Times critics" favor shallow, feel-good pictures will be laughable to anyone who bothers to read the paper, and will certainly come as news to the makers of Erin Brockovitch, Gladiator, Finding Forrester and Chocolat, all of which we treated pretty roughly. Perhaps the only articles in the Times Mr. Lopate reads are the ones he writes himself, or perhaps he fell asleep over the paper and dreamed up a team of shallow critics to serve as "Breakfast Table" straw men. In any case it's too bad that, in his desperate need to preserve a sense of intellectual superiority, he has so egregiously smeared and misrepresented the work of other critics. I guess I'd rather be middlebrow and literary than highbrow and illiterate.

--A.O.Scott

(To reply, click here.)


Timesaver: Oscar night in a nutshell.

Armey Archer, Joan Rivers and Spawn, scores of "stars", 30% ridiculously over-dressed, 30% under-dressed in designer slobbery, 30% appropriately dressed but ill-coiffed, indoctrination through a summary of historical significance, popular clips from this year's movies, witty, left-leaning banter from an officious host, audience shots of actors (22% of all shots include Jack Nicholson), more witty banter including rolling blackout jokes, irrelevant awards for tech-geeks, makeup people and unknown music industry wonks, more witty banter including Dubya jokes, slow tease with clips from best movie nominees, slightly more "important" awards, tacky musical and dance numbers, more witty banter probably including J-Lo dress references, more shots of Jack, building suspense, complete overuse of the words "vision, brilliance and genius," sappy "thank yous", lifetime achievement award to somebody who's more talented than all the nominees put together but just never had the right PR people, annoying, hand-wringing, impassioned political statements by "stars" with furrowed brows, salutes to the independents (who are the only people doing anything new, anymore), building suspense, more witty banter about events that occurred earlier in the night, best film award, a little more irrelevant bullshit and two weeks worth of water cooler talk

--Johnny Hotpants

(To reply, click here.)








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