FilmMonthly » Kylah Magee

Gottfried Helnwein and The Dreaming Child

Kylah Magee — Fri, 23 Nov 2012 00:18:57 +0000

“Every artist has one basic theme they want to talk about.”

This is the essence of the film Gottfried Helnwein and The Dreaming Child. Helnwein, an Austrian artist born in Vienna a few years after the end of World War II, became obsessed with violence against children when he learned of the horrors they endured in his country. His life is now dedicated to illustrating innocent children’s struggles in order to, “shake people, touch them and move them.”

The collaboration between Helnwein and the late poet and playwright Hanoch Levin is at the center of this documentary. Helnwein is hired as the production designer for an Israeli opera adaptation of Levin’s play, Dreaming Child. While the two had never met when Levin was alive, the opportunity to meld their work seems almost serendipitous. Helnwein believes their artistic vision is so much the same that he is obligated to stay true to Levin’s work. In this film, problems arise when Helnwein’s, and ultimately Levin’s, vision is compromised by that of the opera director, the Israeli government and even, quite ridiculously, the lighting director.

Director Lisa Kirk Colburn does an excellent job of portraying the process of an original opera production, particularly from the eyes of Helnwein, the production designer chosen specifically for the perspicacity he has for his art form. He faces road blocks, becoming frustrated with others who don’t see what he does. For some in the opera world he could be designated a prima donna. But I was personally shocked that no one seemed to take his instructions very seriously. His style is one of realism, but his attempts to bring more realism into the opera production are often disregarded.

Helnwein’s biggest challenge comes from his desire to have the lead character, a child, played by an actual young child. The director reveals they have faced this challenge before and try to refrain from casting young children. Helnwein persists. He is then informed that the Israeli government has restricted them from casting a child under the age of 14. Helnwein seems deterred, but he is strong in his belief that a child, even one of 14, is better than an adult playing a child. In the end, the role is shared, a compromise Helnwein is clearly unhappy with.

Ultimately, this is a well-made documentary. I found myself rooting for Helnwein, wanting him to see his vision realized on the Israeli opera stage, and disappointed when he’d lose a battle. I could have done without the petty argument between Helnwein and the stubborn lighting director who seemed too proud to take direction from any artist, no matter how famous, how talented or his role in the production hierarchy.

If anything, I’m now thoroughly interested in seeing this opera. It was difficult to discern from the snippets of the actual stage production what is portrayed from beginning to end. The roles of many of the characters were unclear, the story was not perceptibly explained, and I can’t wait for a better understanding of how it all works when put together. The opening image of the 4th act – a stunning display of about 30 bloody children (half real/half puppets) suspended from wire and from various heights – would alone be worth the cost of admission.

Gottfried Helnwein and The Dreaming Child opens today at New York’s Quad Cinema.

Music and Story – An Interview with Film and TV Composer, Joey Newman

Kylah Magee — Wed, 23 May 2012 21:48:54 +0000

For film and television composer, Joey Newman, writing music for the big and small screens runs in his family. But for Newman, the desire to work as a composer evolved organically, starting with learning both the drums and piano at a very young age, attending Berklee College of Music in Boston, and falling in love with storytelling.

Newman sat down with Film Monthly writer Kylah Magee to discuss his work on the ABC comedy The Middle, his work on the reality series Little People, Big World which garnered him a 2008 Emmy nomination, and his recent collaborations with director Travis Fine. Fine’s film, Any Day Now, is currently making the festival circuit and premiered at the Tribeca Film Festival last month.

Q. When did you know you wanted to be in this line of work? Did the Newman film music lineage direct you in any way?

A. Most of my life I was involved with music. I never got pushed into music, and really followed my own path. I began playing drums first – rhythm was innate for me – and started studying piano at age 11. Eventually I wanted to do music 24/7 and began scoring my first film before college. I began understanding the significance of storytelling in music as theme and melody hit my ear. When I realized John Williams was not just the close friend of my grandfathers, but also the iconic film composer, I became such a big fan of theme. That man can write something so complex, yet you remember it.

Q. Tell me about your work on the TLC series Little People, Big World. How is it different composing for reality TV?

A. I started working on the show in 2004 and really treated it like a documentary. There was a human quality I wanted to portray and asked myself: What are these people like? How do they deal with challenges? I was writing music very specific to someone’s life which committed me to a different set of responsibilities.

Q. The composer/director collaboration is a very important, and often overlooked, relationship in film. Can you tell me about your collaboration with the directors you’ve worked with, particularly Travis Fine?

A. When you start in on a project for any director it’s sort of like coming in and taking care of their baby. As a composer, I need to understand the director’s vision and we need to see eye-to-eye. For many films, I won’t start on the project until closer to the final picture. I can think about ideas or see some imagery, but it really comes down to the director’s vision for the final project.

I’ve always been drawn to dramas so working with Travis Fine, a very close friend of mine, makes it easy to get on the same page. That being said, it also involves me using restraint, which I can sometimes find so much more difficult. With dramas, I want to leave some space in the music to allow an idea to settle in.

Q. Can you provide any advice for someone looking to work as a composer for film or television?

A. First, you’ve got to want to stick with this for the long haul. This is not a short-term deal and you must be passionate about it. Second, a film composer should develop their own voice and unique style. Their music has to stand for itself. Third, know how to market yourself. There’s no wrong or right way to market yourself in this business, but getting the music to people who want or need it is key to getting your name out there.

(Fore more of Joey Newman you can check out Newman’s score for Travis Fine’s film, The Space Between, on iTunes and watch The Middle Wednesday nights on ABC.)

History of the World in Two Hours

Kylah Magee — Mon, 12 Mar 2012 22:11:50 +0000

The History Channel creates another exciting adventure with their documentary special History of the World in Two Hours. This program provides a thorough chronology of the entire universe, from the infinitesimal flash of the Big Bang to the introduction of the Space Age. While I could have done with a little less emphasis on how the show wraps up the entire history of our world in “just two hours,” the narrative is so interesting and informative I was consistently fascinated.
13.7 billion years. That’s the amount of time this program covers. The interactions that have driven our evolution since the creation of the universe is the theme that carries this narrative along. Chemical elements interacted to form the stars and planets, causing explosions that eventually created Earth. Some of these same elements interacted to form the beginning of life on our planet, and it’s these persistent interactions that have moved human civilization into the 21st century.
During the show, there were times when the narrative jumped ahead in what seemed to be an attempt to keep viewers interested in where the story was heading. I thought this was unnecessary, and actually caused some confusion in the chronological flow of events. Interviews with experts who are obviously fascinated with the creation of our world helped explain the science and history behind everything. The CGI effects illustrated how amazingly violent our past was, from the design of our planet and its moon, to the massive extinctions that led to a human-dominated planet.
I’m never disappointed watching a show from the History Channel. I could view an episode of Ancient Aliens or Life After People over and over again, yet still come away with an appealing little bit of knowledge I never heard before. These shows are exciting and offer an opportunity to learn how amazing our history is. Most importantly, they explain our past through constant interaction, emphasizing how connected we are to one another. History of the World in Two Hours accomplishes this same thing, focusing on the interactions that not only made our universe possible, but make our modern lives possible as well.

Beneath the Darkness

Kylah Magee — Mon, 27 Feb 2012 23:25:00 +0000

Most of the frights in the 2011 film Beneath the Darkness come from Dennis Quaid’s intensely violent character Ely. As the local embalmer who seems to kill people when he’s in a bad mood, Quaid provides a serious level of creepiness that never quite frightened me but instead, left me with a rather uneasy feeling.
Four Texas teenagers become strangely fascinated with the idea of ghosts living in the local funeral home. They begin stalking, spying and trespassing on poor Ely the mortician, who becomes more than just a little upset when he finds they have broken into his home and uncovered a sick secret. He murders a boy named Danny as Travis, a young man also familiar with death, watches. But, of course the local authorities don’t believe the teen’s story over Ely’s, who claims Danny fell down the stairs. Travis and the remaining kids decide to take Ely on and uncover his secret themselves.
Following the first ten minutes of this film which provided a brief moment of terror, this predictable story never quite had me on the edge of my seat. Rather flimsy characters and dialogue that excessively illustrated each moment kept me from ever taking this movie seriously. Every dumb thing the teenagers decided to do made me wonder how I could care about anything that happened to them. Throughout the film, and especially during the final scene, I started to wonder if the filmmakers’ intention was B-horror camp. Thinking back to the attempt at some teenage romance between Travis and his friend Abby convinces me the whole film was meant to be taken seriously. An oddly placed paranormal theme added to the awkwardness of the narrative and counts as one of the many story lines that is never clearly resolved.
Personally, my biggest disappointment was Dennis Quaid. Some of my favorite characters are villains. I love it when a really great bad guy scares the pants off me. I especially love it when an actor you’d never suspect pulls off a really evil character. In the first few minutes of the film I thought Quaid might be this surprise bad guy. But there was nothing interesting about Ely the mortician. His dialogue invoked laughter and his actions, while sometimes shocking, were just more bothersome to watch than anything else. Beneath the Darkness provided minor thrills and major ridiculousness.

The Debt (Ha Hov)

Kylah Magee — Tue, 14 Feb 2012 07:37:44 +0000

How do you know when you’re doing the right thing?
This question permeates the thoughts of the main character, Rachel, in the 2007 Israeli film The Debt (Ha Hov). The story follows a woman who, in 1965, played a role in the capture and killing of a Nazi war criminal. Rachel and two other Mossad agents, Zvi and Ehud, are sent to Berlin to apprehend the man formerly known as “the Surgeon of Birkenau”. Awaiting further instructions, the agents hold the prisoner in a safe house with the intention of bringing him back to Israel and, eventually, to justice. Unfortunately for the agents, things go terribly wrong. And the three keep a secret that haunts them for the next 30 years.
The film spends half of the story in 1997 where Rachel has made a name for herself as the famous Mossad agent who was forced to kill the Surgeon in order to save herself. She is visited by her former associates and learns that the lie they told 30 years prior is about to be revealed, and could possibly ruin their lives. The moral duty to do what’s right overpowers the fear of being exposed and Rachel sets out to right their wrongs.
Both actresses playing Rachel were amazingly good in this movie. Gila Almagor who I remember from her brief but beautiful moment in Munich (2005), portrayed a woman terribly haunted by her past. Her determination to finish what she and her fellow agents started so long ago provided an intensity that had me on the edge of my seat. She was nervous and frightened, but also strong enough to continue until the very end. The younger Rachel, played by Neta Garty, also portrayed a woman haunted by her past. Having experienced the atrocities of the Nazis as a very young girl, she fully understands what she’s getting into and is often fearful of what she has to do, constantly wondering if she has the courage to keep going.
Unfortunately this fascinating story left me wanting more – a whole lot more. I’m not sure if the filmmakers intentionally left so many questions unanswered, but in the end I wished for much greater detail in the development of the characters. I wanted to know more about what happened to them in the 30 years not portrayed on screen. I hoped to see more of the reticent romance blossoming between young Rachel and Zvi. I wanted to learn what each of the agents did immediately after their experiences in 1965. The movie did such a great job of bringing me into the story, but unfortunately left me unsatisfied.

Editing

Kylah Magee — Wed, 11 Jan 2012 21:32:51 +0000

Anyone who thought editing was purely a technical or practical sort of job should be required to read Justin Chang’s new book, Editing. Never have I been so convinced of the detrimental role an editor plays in shaping a story. Emotion, intuition, perception, reaction – these are the key words used most often by the film editors in this book who delight us with their experiences working in motion pictures. They inform the reader, and help us understand how imperative their role is in the production of narrative film.
Chang has provided us with a beautiful book that includes not only some of the most exquisite images from film history, but also very in-depth essays from the most successful editors in the industry. To be able to read their first-hand experiences working with great film crews makes this book incredibly enjoyable. Each section features one great editor and includes, in their own words, how they started, who they learned from, their most challenging struggles, and their best experiences.
Since the early days of film, editing was supposed to be invisible and, thus, the editor was much the same. This book explores how essential the role is, and not just for story comprehension (although, without an editor, there would be none). Every editor in this book is the ombudsman between the director and the audience. The editor sees the film as the audience does – the first to see it on-screen rather than on-set like most involved with the production.
This book reveals that one of the fundamental responsibilities of an editor is to convey the “feel” of a scene. There’s nothing very systematic about how an editor works. It’s just a feeling they get when it’s right. The director/editor collaboration is so strong that usually when the editor feels it, the director feels it as well. Often the essays went to discussing the rhythm of a scene, comparing it to music like jazz, where there’s no right or wrong way to portray the art form, it’s just a matter of sensing that something works. As Christopher Rouse explains, “My cutting is more intuitive than cognitive.”
The only obvious omission for me in this book was Thelma Schoonmaker. I would have loved to read an essay from her describing her work with Scorsese and her experience breaking into the business. Chang’s finely detailed work leads me to think her exclusion was not due to him, and I can only hope she’ll participate in the second edition.
“People often forget that a movie is not a movie until it’s edited,” says Michael Kahn. I used to think I was conscious of this but the next time I watch a really great movie, I’ll be thinking about emotion, rhythm, and wondering what the editor was feeling when they made that cut.

Medea

Kylah Magee — Tue, 06 Dec 2011 09:02:38 +0000

The opening scenes of Pier Paolo Pasolini’s 1969 film Medea move slowly and silently. Then suddenly you’re witnessing a human sacrifice, the brutal killing and mutilation of a young man who seems almost willing to die. Pasolini, known for his visual commentary on religion, sex and violence, creates a brutal yet striking film. The violence is thrown at you, sometimes unexpectedly, and the comparisons between Christian ceremony and ancient barbaric ritual are disturbingly clear.
Medea is the story of a woman who leaves her primitive village for Greece to become the wife of Jason of the Argonauts. After years of marriage and bearing two sons, Jason leaves her to marry a young princess. Medea becomes vengeful and does whatever she believes will be the most hurtful to the man she once loved. Pasolini is credited with writing the film, but the story is taken from Euripides’ Greek tragedy written in the 5th century BCE.
Opera singer Maria Callas put aside her dramatic soprano to play her only film role, and this diva shines! While opera aficionados have debated the quality of Callas’ singing voice, there is no question that the dramatic effort she brings to all her roles is consistently perfect. As Medea, she blends the violent barbarianism of her people with the soft heart of a wife and mother. Her strong presence frightens most, from her own father to the King of Creon, although she claims to be unobtrusive and meek. When trying to secure the trust of her estranged husband, she states that her weaknesses come from being a woman.
As the film proceeds you learn that Medea’s weaknesses don’t have anything to do with her being a woman, but more that her ire comes from her position as a woman. She is forced to change everything about herself when she moves to Greece in order to conform to their ways. Her husband takes advantage of her, insulting her position as the mother of his children and dishonoring her by suggesting that she become his whore. She begins to retreat to her former customs when she was high priestess of her native village and practiced black magic.
Towards the end of the film her ladies in waiting begin to look more like a coven. Dark cloaks cover their heads and they walk in unison with their leader. She converses with them about her troubles and convinces them, and herself, that vengeance is the only answer. As she imagines her revenge, her image is superimposed over the vast mountains that surround the Greek village. The ripples in her hooded cloak blend in with the ridges of the mountains, as if her ghost unsuspectingly haunts the area. And it is unsuspected, her barbaric retribution. Everyone admits they fear her, yet she convinces them that all is forgiven and she just wants to make peace. But peace is the last thing on her mind. At the end of the film the question is still what made her so evil. Is it her barbarian upbringing, depicted so brutally at the beginning of the story? Or is there really no greater fury than a woman scorned?

Finding Joe

Kylah Magee — Mon, 14 Nov 2011 12:19:09 +0000

In the first few minutes of Finding Joe, the question is posed: Who is Joseph Campbell and why should we care? The question is never fully answered. This documentary is more of a self-improvement guide rather than a film about the life and work of mythologist Joseph Campbell. While somewhat disappointing to someone who was looking forward to a biographical documentary about a brilliant scholar, the film will resonate with people looking for inspiration and encouragement to “follow their bliss.”
Director Pat Solomon has created a film that focuses on Joseph Campbell’s teachings of the monomyth, or, as most people refer to it, the hero’s journey. He interviews actors, writers, musicians, religious leaders, medical doctors, philosophers and professors in order to support the idea that the hero’s journey is a journey taken by everyone. It is a journey inside all of us.
Joseph Campbell is known to many as the foremost authority on the world’s myths and religions. He began studying Native American mythology before graduating high school and spent his lifetime mapping out mythological connections between cultures all over the world. His research led him to the monomyth, which is the idea that all cultures have stories that follow this one story: the hero’s journey. A pattern that includes separation, initiation and return.
For the people in the film, all have had experiences in their life which they can trace back to the model of the hero’s journey. Screenwriter Akiva Goldsman shares early difficulties in his life that led him to where he is now. Gay Hendricks and Deepak Chopra explain how the hero’s journey can be found in their beliefs of life transformation and having faith in yourself. Familiar stories and characters from literature and film are used to explore and compare the idea of the monomyth to viewers not familiar with the pattern. Metaphorical anecdotes are shared and acted out by children in order to emphasize the message.
If you’re interested in a film about the life and work of Joseph Campbell, this isn’t it. But if you find self-improvement messages inspirational and educational, this movie has it all. It’s beautifully filmed with interviews that are informative and uplifting. The chart used to illustrate the hero’s journey is wonderful and referenced repeatedly to keep viewers on track. The ideas in Finding Joe are appealing and engaging and will be useful to anyone currently searching for meaning in their own journey.

The Rum Diary

Kylah Magee — Thu, 27 Oct 2011 12:15:53 +0000

At the Austin Film Festival premiere of The Rum Diary, the presenter introduced Johnny Depp as an actor capable of perfectly combining comedy and fear. That’s precisely what Depp skillfully executes in this film based on the novel by Hunter S. Thompson. Not only Depp, but the entire cast, is effective in this story of struggling writers, alcoholic binges, experimental drug use and greedy businessmen. Bruce Robinson creates a morality tale in which the main character is tested then has to decide where exactly he fits in.
Journalist Paul Kemp (Depp) has relocated to Puerto Rico to write for an American newspaper in San Juan. He is immediately accepted by his fellow rum drinking journalists (Michael Rispoli and Giovanni Ribisi) and is introduced to the life of squalor that they, and many other Puerto Ricans in the early 1960s, endure on the island. He soon finds himself courted by a man named Sanderson (Aaron Eckhart) and a group of American investors who persuade him to write articles that “assimilate contradictory points of view” in order to gain support for their development projects. To Sanderson, Puerto Rican land is a gold mine, stating, “those who get it, get the gold.” Soon Kemp begins to fall for Sanderson’s girlfriend (Amber Heard) and starts to question the work he’s agreed to be a part of.
A persistent theme in The Rum Diary is the idea of ownership with the juxtaposition of those who have a great deal and those who have nothing. Kemp has no home. He is forced to move in with Salas (Rispoli) and Moburg (Ribisi), fellow writers at The San Juan Star. He has no car. He has no woman. He confesses when asked about his writing that he has no voice. He spends his time composing fake horoscopes for pay and drinking rum with his boozy coworkers. When asked to write influential and biased articles for the American investors, Kemp gets a glimpse of a more glamorous life: private beaches, stylish cars, elegant homes, fancy yachts and a beautiful woman. Kemp underestimates himself when he agrees to work for the wrong side.
The Rum Diary has a number of amusing scenes, many of which use the same comedy found in Robinson’s 1987 film Withnail & I. I often found myself asking, “Was I supposed to laugh at that?” I enjoyed the simple romantic storyline that never takes center stage but helps direct Kemp in some of the decisions he has to make. Robinson’s direction is entirely focused on Kemp and every image or moment influences the judgments Kemp makes at the end of the film.
The main idea here is that writer Paul Kemp is searching for his voice. It’s gone because he hasn’t decided where he belongs. His fellow journalists are drunks, something he has in common with them yet Kemp often seems out of his league, finding himself in way over his head with the crazy adventures and experimentation. While he envies Sanderson, Kemp proves to be too trustworthy for that life. But until Kemp realizes which world he belongs to, he will never find his voice.

The Lost Future

Kylah Magee — Tue, 04 Oct 2011 14:04:43 +0000

I was very excited to see the SyFy original film The Lost Future because I absolutely love any film that predicts a future dystopia. It’s one of my many guilty pleasures. I learned of the plot before viewing the film and the preposterousness of it made me even giddier. Unfortunately, the best thing about The Lost Future is Sean Bean, and he alone cannot sustain interest in this story or its characters.
In a post-apocalyptic future only a handful of humans have survived a genetically mutating disease. A tribe who believe themselves to be the last humans left on earth are attacked by their mutant counterparts and conceal themselves in caves to try to stay alive. Meanwhile, three of the tribe, Savan (Corey Sevier), Kaleb (Sam Claflin) and Dorel (Annabelle Wallis), escape the attack and meet Amal (Sean Bean), a stranger who claims to have known Kaleb’s father who left the tribe years earlier to find other civilizations. Amal tells Kaleb that his father was detrimental in discovering a cure for the mutating disease and asks Kaleb to accompany him and help him track down the cure. The group of four set off in search of any remaining civilizations and the “yellow powder” that will protect them and their tribe from mutation.
The main issue with this film is that there’s nothing really original here in this SyFy Original Movie. The “mutants” are a combination of zombies, Orcs, Reavers; while somewhat frightening, we’ve seen them before. The themes are tired and one-dimensional: too much interest in science brought on the genetic apocalypse; the leader of the tribe governs with blind faith. Then, of course, there’s the ONE son, who never really knew his father, and is society’s only hope for survival.
Ridiculous dialogue permeates the entire film, mostly in an attempt to make sure the viewer is following along and understanding everything. The problem is there’s nothing really complex about the story to warrant this. The mystery of what happened to humans on earth is lacking reliable and definitive scientific explanation. The “yellow powder” remains just that – yellow powder. The mutants are merely science gone awry.
Despite all of this, Sean Bean is relatively good, given what he’s working with. There are a few scenes with spectacular digital effects and cinematography, including the hunt in the opening scene and the boat ride to the nearest civilization. While I can sometimes get behind illogical plot lines and outrageous science fiction, I was unable to get on board with this film. I was captivated by one of the early scenes, when we learn the tribe believes they are the last humans on earth (how spooky is that?), but there seemed to be very little research on how a civilization might rebuild itself when forced to live like our ancient ancestors. Would a tribe familiar with methods of hunting, tracking and organizing a small village really not understand how a boat floats on water? Would women not be able to take up their former gatherer roles and just be left in the village wearing full makeup and slinky outfits? I really, really hope not.