OneMovieLover

"Dunkirk" is not a bad film, but it does not at all deserve the lavish praise that has been bestowed upon it by critics. Its chief problem is that it has no truly strong characters. Now, some people have said that this is a result of the nonlinear narrative, and they're wrong. The problem, rather, is simply inadequate character writing on Nolan's part. The narrative structure is arguably a strength, as it truly does cause us to feel – for a short while – the silliness and arbitrariness of war. The film's lack of strong character development, however, unsurprisingly becomes a more glaring fault as the film unfolds. Its best scenes are mostly in the last third, though the speech sequence at the very end is overly preachy and heavy-handed.

"Dunkirk", ultimately, is an example of how realism to a film's subject does not make that film a masterpiece. Depth is needed; excellent characters are needed. I truly suspect that if you were to show any reasonably good film critic the first 40-50 minutes of this film and not tell them that Christopher Nolan directed it, they would likely see little difference between it and most blockbusters that they are forced to review every summer. Yes, Zimmer's score is strong, and there are moments of excellent camera-work. Nevertheless, the fact that this film is actually being lauded by not only audiences but even a fair number of critics as one of the greatest war films ever made makes me somewhat concerned about the future of film criticism in the United States. What makes "Dunkirk" as significant a work of art as "All Quiet on the Western Front", "Paths of Glory", or "Apocalypse Now"? Nothing, because it is nowhere near those films artistically and intellectually.

UPSTREAM COLOR contains moments of truly brilliant film-making. Nonetheless, I believe it lacks coherency.

The film has been compared many times with Terrence Malick's masterpiece THE TREE OF LIFE. But to watch THE TREE OF LIFE is, admittedly, different in effect. After having seen the film, one does not have to understand it in a conventional sense; one does not have to know what Malick is trying to say – but, a good film critic would, at the very least, realize that Malick was trying to say something. It is doubtful whether a mature film viewer would ever attend a screening of THE TREE OF LIFE and exit the theater with the conviction that everything they had seen was pointless and pretentious.

I consider it quite believable, however, that a major critic – e.g. Roger Ebert or J. Hoberman – would find UPSTREAM COLOR to be lightweight in depth, and argue that its ambitions were greater than its satisfactions. It features little character development, partly because its dialogue is sometimes unintelligible. Although Shane Carruth is a master of music-video juxtaposition, and the film's cinematography is striking, the impression that it all leaves, in the hours after viewing, is surprisingly slight – largely because one is not left with the feeling that its events could cohere into one meaningful whole.

Though it may have been the most technically intelligent film of 2013, UPSTREAM COLOR ultimately plays like a mere succession of scenes rather than a full-fledged narrative work. There is probably a masterpiece within the conception of this film, but it was not achieved in the final product.

I would still like UPSTREAM COLOR to be remembered as a high point for 2013 in movies, albeit on purely cinematic terms. For those who love THE TREE OF LIFE and view it as the finest film of the decade (an opinion with which I agree), note that this is comparable in its film-making style, but not necessarily its depth or emotional effect.

It is difficult to summarize KEIKO DESU KEDO/I AM KEIKO in a sentence without revealing all of its major plot elements. It should not, however, be thought of as a film in which 'nothing much happens'; indeed, the mundanity of depression has rarely been captured more distinctly on screen. Viewers with enough patience will find that the film is a work of considerable merit.

KEIKO DESU KEDO is self-referential from the beginning, with the clapstick of a clapperboard being shut in front of the titular character within the first minute. Keiko later tells the audience that the film will end in an hour and a minute - and this is not simply part of a gimmick, for what Keiko expresses a wish for, over much of the next hour, more than anything else (besides successfully keeping the time), is an audience. The presence of one will make her believe that something here must be interesting; that her life is not fully boring.

She is shown hosting a sort of home-produced news show, looking into the camera as she discusses her day's events. There is an argument to be made that the difficulty of KEIKO DESU KEDO - arising from long sequences in which the protagonist simply counts, as well as color schemes and set pieces which are notable yet austere - is fully intentional, serving not only to emphasize social isolation, but also as a means of further polarizing the audience; of preventing viewers from being 'lost' in the film's events and ensuring we know we are still an audience, still that thing which will assure Keiko her life is not defined entirely by mundanity. Perhaps this is why she stays with us until the very end.

(She does, after all: she reads the film's credits.)