MYST 6: The Martian

I really, really, really hate space. The concept of space travel and space exploration is something that I could never do. There's something to be said about  the boundless, empty, semi-destructive nature of the universe and all that it contains, and it's terrifyingly realistic that the universe is like our oceans: we know almost nothing about anything at all. So, Matt Damon's penultimate nightmare in the 2015 epic 'The Martian' is something that would drive me to death beyond the brink of insanity. The concept of isolation, fear, desolation, and the ability to live alone in a world is completely foreign and unknown to the mental state of most people. In fact, this is the ultimate isolation, being left alone to fend for yourself almost 50 million miles away from home. Needless to say, Ridley Scott's epic about the terror of isolation and gripping fear is a very well-done piece of cinema, holding interest from start to finish, and Matt Damon's incredible portrayal only helps to serve.

Matt Damon is one of the finest actors in modern cinema. I'm sorry, as much crap as he gets for his mockery in 'Team America: World Police,' the actor is credited with such pieces of treasure as 'Good Will Hunting,' 'The Departed,' 'Bourne Ultimatum,' and 'Elysium.' The actor is no stranger to the big-name science-fiction roles often accredited with the likes of Chris Nolan and such, and because of his talent, he carries a strong-willed presence throughout the entirety of the film. He plays Mark Watney, based on Andy Weil's novel, a lone astronaut stranded on the surface of Mars after his operating crew leaves him behind in the midst of a superstorm. Alone and without an infinite supply of food and water, Watney needs to fend for himself until there becomes a possibility that he may ever return home.

The perspective and editing of the movie is by-far the most beautiful part of the movie. The Martian landscape is very, very well detailed, and looks true to the beauty of the red planet. The Mars in this film doesn't look fake, the way that space did in the old-school bomb 'Gravity,' but instead plays a lot more on capturing the true essence of the Martian landscape. As a result, there grows a very respectable portrayal of the location that, combined with multiple uses of long shots, carries out the portrayal of Watney as a lone human lost in the greatest, most powerful place to get lost in.

Also, the science behind the movie is satisfyingly accurate. While a lot of it is biological junk most of us forgot after freshman year of high school, the vast majority of it is proven to be accurate. Damon's character goes on a long tangent about the possibility of creating his own water, growing potatoes in soil fermented with his own dried feces, and duct-taping a hole in his space station shut. Along with the dry sarcasm that we've all come to love and respect from Matt Damon, it makes the astronaut character much more understandable, and as a result it makes his growth from fear to confidence to fear to confidence that more us-like and scary for us as viewers to watch.

However, it's these scientific tangents that serve as this epic's hamartia.

The science is BORING. I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm a guy who's into literature, English, political science, and philosophy. In fact, I've never taken a biology class in my entire life, so all of his tangents about cell growth and genetic reproduction, I'm putting myself to sleep writing it down. I saw this movie in a theater late at night, and as a result, I fell asleep during the middle of this movie, because it soon became nothing more than a scientific tangent. Let me explain.

The movie works as a sort of 'reverse bell curve.' The beginning is really interesting, especially with the portrayal of the superstorm and his sudden realization of isolation and total fear. There's a dark lighting combined with multiple close shots, and it really helps to create a sense of total panic and
fear. As well, the ending is incredible, making you cheer for Damon's character to succeed and ending with the classroom scene that's funny and entertaining, even to us as viewers, providing a moral about the dangers of the unknown.

The problem is the middle.

Nothing really happens, to be quite honest. More of it becomes us trying to understand Damon's exact situation, and it becomes some kind of game of Ping-Pong between Damon talking about how screwed he is, compared with NASA trying to accept the fact that they've, once again, proven why we SHOULDN'T do things like send people to Mars. Back to Damon. Back to NASA. Back to Damon. Back to NASA. It just goes back and forth and back and forth between the two, and because the science isn't really relatable to an audience that isn't full of biochemists and astrophysicists, it becomes more of a pain to watch than anything.

Overall, the movie is very entertaining, and holds a lot of ground with Damon's character's sarcasm and optimism. The movie is clean, looks visually stunning, and carries a lot of scientific prowess. However, even with Damon's fantastic mask all over the movie, some of the parts become so scientific, they almost become insufferable to watch. However, Ridley Scott did an incredible job bringing this space epic to life, it furthers Damon as the cinematic master that he is.

I give Ridley Scott's 'The Martian' an 8/10.                                                                                            

'Memento' and 'Cinematic Braiding'

 This is one of the finest, smartest, most intellectual, most philosophical, and most engaging pieces of cinema on Planet Earth. This is pre-Batman Christopher Nolan with an actor almost completely unknown to modern cinema. Speak what you may; ask any modern young adult who Guy Pearce is, and I guarantee they can't give you 'Neighbors' or 'Memento.' Which is too bad, because this movie needs more praise, more awards, more absolute perfection than it already has.

'Memento' is the story of Leonard, who suffers from anterograde amnesia, which means he has short-term memory loss and cannot remember anything that happened after a man named John G. raped and murdered his wife. Destined to avenge her murder, the movie tells the story of Leonard's journey of self-discovery and vendetta for his wife, hunting for John G. and fighting to keep his wife's memories alive.

However, the way this movie is edited is unlike almost any other movie out there. It's unique, it's branded, and it's braided, and it's not conventional. That's what makes it so special.

Ingenious director Christopher Nolan took a very unique spin on editing 'Memento.' There are two different kinds of scenes that the audience will be be presented with. On one hand, the movie STARTS with ITS ending, portrayed in color. It then jumps to the beginning of the movie, shown in black-and-white. Constantly jumping back and forth between black-and-white and color sequences, the two scenes finally converge in the middle; the ENDING of the film is the MIDDLE of the story.

Confusing, huh?

Think of it like this. With the black-and-white scenes, we are watching the movie chronologically, whereas with the color sequences, they end with the beginning of the previous scene, with each one building on the last. It's a little confusing and a little surprising when you initially begin the movie, but soon makes sense the deeper into the film you get. Why do this, you may ask?

It's actually ingenious. The movie is edited in this specific fashion to make it more interactive for the audience. As previously stated, Leonard suffers from anterograde amnesia. Hence, he is only able to remember bits and pieces of the present, if anything, and because he can't make new memories, it's impossible for him to remember absolutely anything that happened within the last 2 minutes. Therefore, Christopher Nolan films the movie in the same fashion, slowly revealing to the audience member pieces of the story by piecing them together, almost as though we are suffering the same sort of mental activity that our protagonist Leonard is going through. It's this editing that makes 'Memento' one of the most unique pieces of cinematography in the industry.

'Memento' also heavily utilizes repetitions of various 'close' shots. One of the most particular is the constant reference to his right hand, which brazens a tattoo that reads 'Remember Sammy Jankis.' Sammy Jankis was one of Leonard's clients who was apparently suffering from anterograde amnesia as well. What's so interesting about the use of this shot is how often it's used; much of the time, directors will use close shots to convey emotion, but here, it instead constantly forces the audience to see it and constantly be reminded of this 'Sammy Jankis' character, both for his condition and for what he represents to Leonard. It's this constant repetition that makes the use of the close shot so effective throughout the movie.

This is also done with many of Leonard's 'photographs.' Leonard communicates different details to himself through different pictures he takes through his camera, and the notes he takes are constantly shown throughout the movie. However, the way that Chris Nolan lets us know of the importance of the pictures is by doing the reverse-chronology I was talking about above. We don't see him completely write down the notes without any sort of context, but instead we are presented with a majority of the photographs at the beginning of the movie and are slowly shown what they mean through discovery, in the same way that Leonard has to do it. See the interactivity, it's what makes the movie so incredibly engaging from start to finish.

Overall, this movie is incredible. If you haven't seen it, this is not a suggesion: this is one of the best movie, literally ever. Guy Pearce is incredibl, the story is incredible; this is the best example of a modern Film Noir that outlines concepts of memory, reality, and trust, and by the time the credits roll, your mind will be bent so far back, you may start suffering from anterograde amnesia yourself.

Formal Film Study - Tim Burton's Book Adaptions

I'm a Tim Burton junkie, and I have been for a vast majority of my life. I don't know why, nor will I probably ever, but there's always been something so fascinating about the dark tones of the Tim Burton universe that turn every single happy-go-lucky fantasy into a dark, twisted world of Oedipal complexes, Michael Jackson impersonators, acid trips, and a headless horseman. Tim Burton is a man with a flair far more 'flaring' than many other directors, even the hot-shot headliners like Martin Scorsese and Christopher Nolan. But I'll tell you one thing. When Tim Burton gets his hands on something, you know you're in for a wild ride.

I'm an avid reader. Over the past 2 months I've finished almost 6 books, almost 15 if you include the past 5 months. I like books, a lot. My favorite book of all time is F. Scott Fitzgerald's romantic political masterpiece, 'The Great Gatsby.' Not the trash-laden pile of gunk with horrible cameos by Toby McGuire, but instead the beautiful story of tragedy, romance, and murder most foul. And Tim Burton, even in his zaniest sense, is my favorite director, because even with his slip-ups in the realm of Planet of the Apes and Dark Shadows, he's developed masterpieces like 'Edward Scissorhands' and the irreverently beautiful 'Corpse Bride.'

So now, I present to you, the most wondrous and whimsical analysis of the weird, wonderful world of Tim Burton's book adaptions: Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Sleepy Hollow, and Alice in Wonderland.

(Disclaimer: Yes, I am aware that Sleep Hollow was a short story, not a novel. However, it is a piece of literary heritage that was adapted for screenplay. In my world, it's good enough.)

The first thing that you'll notice about all of these different stories, whether they were books, short stories, or works of literary masterpiece, none of them are particularly dark or scary. The most controversial of these works would be the Sleepy Hollow story, but if you go and read it, there's not a lot of gruesome material nor is there any kind of whimsical or odd-sort of atmosphere. All of the books carry this wondrous apparel of fantasy, and none of them give off any sort of negative, over-the-top vibe. This is the first marker by Tim Burton.

Even in the not-Alice in Wonderland 'Sleepy Hollow,' there's an obvious air of Tim Burton flair. The Tim Burton flair is categorizes as zany, whimsical spiral pillars, Johnny Depp and Helena Bonham Carter (the former appearing in all 3 films, the latter in 2), colorful environments with a tinge of noir-like atmospheres and personas, and this vibe that something is always 'wrong.' This is especially apparent within the world of 'Charlie and the Chocolate Factory,' most obviously with the low shot that defines the factory itself; this is also done with the Mushroom Forest in 'Wonderland' and with the haunted manor of 'Sleepy Hollow.'

Here's where the contrasts begin to show. Wonka's factory in the Roald Dahl novel is brimming to life with colors and rainbows and wisdom that entails the fantastical and reflects the images of a child's dream. The factory in the Burton film, on the other hand, stands as a stone-white monolith, a total contrast to the whimsy and wonderful personality of its vivacious owner. As a result, there comes this apparent tone of fear and unknowing, which contrasts the wonder that Dahl spends all of the original novel playing out throughout the songs and poetry of the Oompa-Loompas. What Burton is doing here is taking the original character of Willy Wonka and playing much more onto the concept of his isolation and his fascination with chocolate, instead of making him the more hug-able, more understandable, whimsical adult figure he is portrayed as within the novel.

This is done in a similar fashion with 'Alice in Wonderland.' Wonderland, as it is described in the novel, is a strange and odd place. Not necessarily negative, but from the massive table in the bottle-opening scene to the Tea Party of Time Travel, there's a very childlike feel to the 1865 original book (which I've read. In fact, I've read the two books, as well as pieces of the short story), similar to the whimsical nature of the Wonka factory. However, in the Tim Burton remake of this story, Wonderland carries a very different feel. Not only does there appear to be a haze over the tyrranical Wonderland, but everything with the twisty trees and British undertones and what appears to be rubble makes this new Wonderland more of a dystopia than the actual place of 'wonder.' As a result, Burton has taken his own spin on the 'wonder' of Wonderland, turning it into a place of terror and fear.

Finally, the environment of 'Sleepy Hollow' is less so. The Irving short story describes the town of Sleepy Hollow as quiet and sound, nevertheless with an air of unknown and a little atmosphere of discomfort. Tim Burton doesn't do to the town of 'Sleepy Hollow' what he does to the Willy Wonka Chocolate Factory or Wonderland, but stays a little more true to the story, making sure that there's not a lot of 'over-the-top' but instead more of an idea of darkness. However, this is not to say that the Burton flair we've been discussing for the entirety of the essay is gone; there is a little more whimsy to this story. The entrance of the Horseman is an over-the-top depiction of childhood nightmare, and the forest does carry a little bit of the 'twisty-tree' atmosphere I was discussing earlier. Of the 3, this is the least 'altered,' but you can feel Tim Burton's presence throughout the story (see my review of Big Eyes).

This leans into my next major discovery with Tim Burton's work. He's a huge, huge fan of the long short. Whether he's giving a major depiction of the wondrous world of the Red Queen, or he's trying to put little Alice against the footstool during the metaphor of self-worth, he uses long shots, and he uses them a lot. This is good because Tim Burton is all about atmosphere; there's a big similarity between the initial presentations of the Red Queen's Castle and Wonka's Candy Factory, both of which utilize a similar low shot that puts the protagonist below it, giving the instigation of the power contained within the center character of conflict.

In 'Sleepy Hollow,' this is done, but less so. The obvious is the manor scene, where there's a depiction of the size of Ichabod Crane relative to the rest of the dark graveyard location. Therefore, we see how pitiful Ichabod looks against the manor and the dark forest, which helps to signal that he is powerless against the supernatural and reinforces much of Tim Burton's constant metaphors of what human beings are capable of doing versus inhuman objects with much more power, either fantasy, science fiction, or in our case, absolutely 'wonderful.'

So, there's an obvious method that Tim Burton uses when he's adapting a book. A lot of the time, Burton is heavily criticized for taking lighter children's stories and giving them a more mature, darker flair that contrasts the openness of how they were with a younger, less mature audience. However, I think there's a big statement wrong with this sentence. Tim Burton movies are like fine wine: it's an acquired taste. There's a very specific mode that Tim Burton uses when he takes these classic stories and makes them strange and wonderful and dark all at the same time, and it's unique.

(NOTE: Many will say that Henry Selick does the same thing, i.e 'Coraline' and 'James and the Giant Peach.' But let's face it. There stories were weird and creepy BEFORE Selick gave them the big screen debut. With what Burton is working with, he needs to TRY and make them as creepy as he has.)

Tim Burton doesn't try to change the books or the stories. If this were true, there wouldn't be so many constant references back to the books that stay so on-par with the stories. For anyone who disagrees, please buy copies of each of the books and read them, then go back and watch how faithful Tim Burton remains with the story. Especially in the world of modern movies, this doesn't happen very often, if at all (take The Maze Runner or Gulliver's Travels). As a result, it's refreshing to see a director who doesn't want to take away from the story at all, but instead give it a personal flair that it didn't contain before.

This isn't to say that what Burton is doing is perfect. Burton's formula is very simple: take the book, find the main center of conflict (THE FATHER in 'Charlie,' ALICE'S INNOCENCE in 'Alice,' THE HORSEMAN in 'Hollow), make it a little darker in atmosphere, and let the story grow around it. He's done this formula with these 3 movies, and the end result, while not necessarily what the author had in mind, are very faithful to the stories and give them a much more mature perspective and edge than what they previously contained.

Why is this a good thing? Think about it. These are KIDS' stories. These books and short stories aren't meant for a mature audience of older adults that want to watch a happy, bubbly, fun portrayal of a girl's magical journey through a land of candy and rainbows. They don't want to see, as wonderful as Gene Wilder is, a bouncy musical about a boy in a candy store. What they want is psychological toying, a sense of darkness and grit, and something that won't make them fall asleep 30 minutes in.

This is why Tim Burton is a genius. These are kids' movies, and they should be treated as such, even if their material pushes the boundaries of the maturity barrier. Not only are these movies entertaining for kids, but they hold a certain level of adult-ness that keeps the older audience attracted to the screen. Yes, it's strange, yes, it's weird, and yes, it's not perfect, but it's that weird source material and dark psychological twist that keeps audiences coming back for more.

Overall, I love Tim Burton. I always have, and I hope I always will. I think he gets a lot of crap for the stuff he puts out, the way he handles certain source material; to an extent, I agree. But he's a weird guy with weird tastes, and that's been apparent since his first day on the job. Whether you love him or hate him, you have to admire his guts and his drive: this is the guy who took one of the most beloved children's books of all time and turned it into a dark, creepy story about daddy issues and compensation. Hell, he did it and not only was it critically successful, like it or not, it made money. 

Keep it up, Burton. You don't scare me.