Southland Tales

...after you have landed an indie hit? If you had a gazillion of incoherent opinions about the world and your homeland? If you are mad, confused and overwhelmed about/by the politics and the society? If you have watched too many movies and wanted to integrate your influences all over the place at any sacrifice? If you wanna sell your -in the core- interesting, exciting, weird but overall half-baked ideas that were maybe influenced by some bizarre dreams you had or just popped into your mind after you had too much LSD? Well, you might go and shoot something like Southland Tales. Of course everyone has his own opinion and no one should judge artistic devices and expression since it's entirely subjective and there are no rules to it. So arguing over tastes and opinions is really senseless. But having read many reviews mentioning "real genius" and "a masterpiece", I would like to respectfully disagree. To me it felt like a missed shot at achieving something big, something which was supposed to be an avant-garde and unprecedented work so it would become a cult movie. And when it got horribly out of control, all you can do is trying to patch the whole thing up and sell it so that the intented result was exactly this: "a profound sci-fi satire, an artistic mindfuck".

Too many wildy combinated ingredients doesn't make the soup taste any better. Intention and execution are really two different pairs of shoes.

Renais, Bunel, Godard, and Lynch; these are all filmmakers who use the medium to challenge and provoke audiences. They often times subvert genres, norms, and cinematic conventions and give us provocative, brain-nutritious cinema. Though their movies tend to alienate a large portion of viewers, they still create their art, with their audience in mind, knowing full- well that at the end of the day, a connection needs to be made between the film and the people.

Richard Kelly's DONNIE DARKO, while clearly the work of a not-yet-matured filmmaker, gave us the promise of a budding artist whose intentions might have been similar to those aforementioned filmmakers. Unfortunately, after seeing his follow-up, SOUTHLAND TALES, I believe his potential has either been stilted, stalled, or misperceived. In fact, viewing TALES and DARKO back-to-back, his second film comes across as utter regression.

TALES felt like the longest, most expensive student film I've ever seen. At just under three hours, it's a sprawling mess. Oddball for the sake of being oddball, cryptic for the sake of of being cryptic, tonally confused, structurally struggling, I think, no matter how they "clean it up," it will be impossible to salvage.

There's nothing on screen to make you care. To make you invested. There are no stakes. Actually, there's no plot, just a bunch of incidents which are all happening at the same time seemingly to justify why these characters would criss-cross. The characters are so thinly conceived, you find yourself looking at the scenery (all in LA), trying to name the street, beach, or building. The imagery is repetitive and banal. The themes are jumbled and stated over and over again by on-the-nose voice-over from Justin Timberlake.

Watching this was like watching a movie by a severely Autistc filmmaker; in his mind, this all works and has a rhyme and a reason but to me, the viewer, there was absolutely no way to access it. This is not for my lacking of intellectual depth or intelligence. I was awake, aware, acute, and ready to absorb this film. Only, the film wasn't ready to engage me.

Next time at bat, Mr. Kelly should look to the masters he was trying to emulate and see that beneath their audacious sometimes even experimental surfaces, there are real stories and real characters at play.

I liked this enough to tell you in the first sentence that it would have been a candidate for one of only two 4-star ratings I give per year.

If you are an average viewer, you will be put off by the apparent narrative incoherence, the seeming lack of center and the childish nature of some of the devices. That's all fair enough. But let me point you to two things that make it for me.

The first is that it is inherently cinematic. It makes about as much sense when the sound is turned off. Indeed I watched the whole thing through this way once and it actually makes more sense. There's lots of cinematic nesting: movies about movies; videos, narratives and disguises within. There's lots of causality denoted visually. You will find scores of quotes from other films, many more than those "parody" teen movies. And you'll discover many of your favorite intelligent but not famous actors.

That would be enough for me, but there's something else. In fact, though the story is confusing, deliberately made so through how it unfolds, it does make complete sense. It makes as much sense as, say, "The Matrix." I wish it didn't, but there you are. But its the way the story slips about that is pretty wonderful. You see, a narrative works by the way the pieces connect.

Usually we don't have to work because the way the pieces connect is the way they happen in real life: the causal flow of the narrative telling is the same as in the story. But the detective story, and modern noir changed that and now we have a variety of causal connections that can glue the bits together. Even these you don't normally notice unless the writer — as here — makes the shifts between bits cover a greater distance than usual.

Pay attention to this. Greenaway uses reference to number sequence. Barney uses progress through the sexual encounter, clever that. Lynch provides these discontinuities by having characters shift selves — a technique of discovery. Joyce — who in a way is the gold standard because he reified this sort of art through cognitive plumbing connection — depends on notational congruence. All these are exciting as getout in the hands of their masters.

But this is different, more rooted in noir, in cinema. These elements are connected in ways that only read in film.

Here's what I mean: film has evolved a set of notions we call noir. These capture two worlds; the world of the story where the laws of the universe seem to be deliberately arranged by strange occurrences, "mistakes" and coincidences to play havoc with key characters. Then there is the (usually implied) second world where those laws are manipulated and we the viewers sit. In almost all noir films, this effect only occurs in the long form, meaning that it is apparent when seem over the whole story.

Now look here. For all intents, there is no long form here, just a sequence of medium- sized events, each of which contain rather than follow the previous ones. This form was pioneered (I believe) by Altman. The narrative glue of the whole is how the segments slip against one another. We have "Magnolia" that plays with this concept as well, this slipperage. Its the connection that conveys the world. Its subtle and homeopathically powerful as a result.

Now this. Its another step forward in that the connection between elements involves changes in the way the world works. Each shift is not just between story segments that don't make sense, they don't make sense BECAUSE of the nature of the transitions. Many of these transitions involve a change in the laws of the universe. Its as if you were playing chess as a chesspiece, and the rules of the game changed according to the patterns of the pieces on the board. The whole thing would make sense afterward when seem as a whole, but the chessmen will be baffled.

What this does is build an ordinary noir with the two worlds: story, and gods. But it cleverly puts the viewer on the chessboard as someone at the mercy of the rules. Its no accident that the inspiration is Philip K Dick (who invented this sort of reverse introspection), that the key magical plot device is the magically named "fluid karma," and that the mascot is Bai Ling, who was our Béatrice Dalle surrogate for a while.

I want to give this a four, but I do think that the two others from this year are more important.

Ted's Evaluation -- 3 of 3: Worth watching.

I give the film a 3 out of 10 because it does have some sharp moments where some sort of vision glimmers through. I particularly enjoyed watching Jon Lovitz shattering type. And it's good to see Nora Dunn and Will Sasso on the big screen.

But for the most part, this feels like the world's most expensive B-movie. It has a lot of scenes, most of which are professionally lit and well-composed through the camera, and they feature actors reading lines. And that's all there is - the parts don't add up to a whole.

I like weirdness and I like apocalyptic themes. I like social/political reflection and cinematic chaos. I don't require a movie to present a nice, tidy narrative arc. I do, however want to be drawn in, I want to believe at some level in what's happening on screen. And this movie didn't do that for me. None of these scenes are ever going to happen. They don't depict, or reflect on, a world in which we live. They're supposed to, but like a badly-drawn portrait, the resemblance isn't quite there. All I see is a bad rendering.

I honestly can't understand where all the positive hype for this movie is coming from. I suspect a case of the emperor's new clothes. If you genuinely enjoyed this film, I say the more power to you. Having made it to the end, I think it's a dud.

What the hell did I just watch??? I'm so confused. So many random ideas pilled into one big movie about America with some fourth dimension stuff. I'm big fan of Donnie Darko but this is just too much. The acting is horrible, the dialogue is even worse (there are so many sex jokes that aren't funny at all). Justin Timberlake's character is just sitting in the middle of the sea with the gun lol, also The Killer's song sequence was the most random thing in this chaotic movie. Hot mess.