All the Vermeers in New York

In this review I reveal why the movie is entitled "All The Vermeers In New York". I don't think knowing this spoils the film, though.

People's expectations of a film reflect a lot about them. A lot of people expect to be moved watching a film when the music swells. They expect to get excited when the shots are cut faster. This film allows you to get excited or moved about what's going on because of what is happening to the _people_, not the camera or the music. Films that cut the "crap" of "high-quality" production values and concentrate on character and story show how our ordinary lives achieve a cool, plausable if brief potentiality for soaring.

This film works on this premise, and that's why I love it. It's really a fairly wrenching story that gets told by the people, not as much by the camera and soundtrack (although the shooting and music are brilliantly understated). I identified very closely with the high-powered New York currency trader who couldn't live with himself unless he could come to the museum to gaze at the Vermeer portraits. It allows him to cross the threshold of his own limited life staring at a stock-ticker into a world of pure love, desire and ultimately, hope.

To Jost, nothing seems ordinary, unalive. He is the Van Gogh of film makers. If he made a film about pebbles in the gutter, it would be worth watching.

If you are a fan of independent and innovative filmmaking, this movie is for you. It's visuals are tremendous in their composition, movement, colors, etc. It's sense of editing and story progression is involving and thought provoking. This is the kind of movie that makes you forget traditional narrative expectations of "what will happen next?" or questions like "what is going on?" and instead prompts you to just experience, perceive, and feel the film. A must-see for anyone interested in non-traditional filmmaking and for anyone interested in a beautiful movie.

Jon Jost's filmography is quite incredible with lows and highs, but this movie and Bell Diamond (1987) is an exception. The film combines Jon Jost's signature tart wit, deadpan expressions on his characters and staccato style of dialogue with a touching romance story which can be seen in Hal Hartley films. Jon Jost makes wry comments on the class respectability for art and offers a more realistic but also a darker view on New York Stock Exchange and the society in general. The is the best amalgamation of style and substance. It moves between Hal Hartley, Michelangelo Antonioni and Eric Rohmer. The simple story of Impalpable lives illuminated and swallowed by the soft light of Vermeer's paintings is executed beautifully. I Still binge the score and striking photography of spaces, including an absolutely breathtaking whirl around an empty building lobby that's quite unlike anything I've seen. I was reminded of the music video for Flock of seagull's space age love song featuring Jennifer Connelly. Overall, this is an interesting film to look forward to for arthouse fans, but personally my expectations were well surpassed. The simple story was well played out with a lot of depth, making it look quite natural and life-like. It was also interesting to get a peep at the backstage of the world of art and stock exchange in the 80s. I certainly recommend this well made bittersweet film.

Jon Jost impressed me quite a bit with this. I'll definitely need to check out more of his stuff. The way he combines very formal camera-work with naturalistic, improvisational performances struck me as really great. Best of both worlds, as it were, yet the styles didn't clash at all. I found it had all the life and spontaneity of, say, a Cassavetes film, but without the kind of off-the-cuff hand-held cinematography I've come to expect from that sort of film. It reminded me more than a little of Antonioni, actually. It also managed to be very funny in a great, observational kind of way. It actually really amazes me how it captures that little spark of life, that nuance, while at the same time being visually so thought-out and impressive to look at (with lots of nice breaking of the 180-degree rule too). Unfortunately the DVD transfer I saw was not the best, so i felt like i wasn't quite getting the full experience. Also, a few slightly indulgent moments (though nothing intolerable or even much different from the more trying moments of Angelopoulos or Carlos Reygadas) left the film less than perfect, along with an ending that I felt didn't quite come off the way it should have.

This movie is as subtle as good champagne, as illuminating as a nova star and as poisonous as curare. The "it of it" is easily missed if you are poorly educated and/or badly informed. This is French existentialism on a collision course with capitalism-fueled post industrial deconstructionism. The parallels between the machinations and lies of Wall Street's deals and the morally derelict art world of galleries and art dealers is poignant. Also poignant are the excerpts in French which counterpoint a decadent civilization based on a materialistic narcissism out of control. The whole thing comes to a screeching pitch when the things in life that most people believe are really worth living and dying for (money, honor,love, God) become nothing but a series of meaningless mirages. In the end there is not even God to help us make sense of the dissolute lives we lead. The beautiful Ana, in spite of herself, becomes an exterminating angel for the man who thinks is in love with her. But even she has to run away from New York to save herself and her dreams. In the end the only thing worth holding on to is all the Vermeer's in New York. And remember, no one really knows who Vermeer was. Only his magical light remains on the canvas. - Also contains an unforgettable scene atop one of the now defunct Twin Towers. Sort of creepy foreshadowing of history.