Hopelessly under the influence

Monday, August 27, 2007

Hot Fuzz


Despite my recent post on Bergman’s passing, my attitude towards the current state of film is not completely hopeless, though the decline in philosophically rigorous filmmaking is a bit troubling. And though I make no apologies for appreciating films that are artful and thought provoking, I am not immune to less serious fare as long as it is good. For example, who could not love Wedding Crashers, and the outrageous spectacle of hilarity that was Will Ferrell at the film’s end? Lately such well-crafted films have been absent but a recent viewing of Hot Fuzz engendered an unexpected amount of enthusiasm for the life it injects into the parody genre and served as an introduction to the sizeable talents of director/writer Edgar Wright and writer/actor Simon Pegg.

These are the creators of the fantastically witty zombie spoof Shaun of the Dead, who now turn their eye on the often preposterous though always taut genre of the buddy cop film. The quiet village of Sandford serves as the backdrop where Nicholas Angel (Simon Pegg), an extremely dedicated and professional police officer fresh from London, uncovers a conspiracy of ridiculous proportions, and attempts to persuade the local police force that the grisly accidents that keep occurring are actually murders. He is teamed with the portly officer Frank Butterman (Nick Frost), a naïve but loyal sort who fantasizes about acting out scenes from Bad Boys and other police thrillers.

Hot Fuzz mercilessly lampoons all of the outrageous elements of the buddy-cop genre but with a lot of heart and enthusiasm. This isn’t an ironic exercise guided by detachment and condescension but an all-out, tongue-in-cheek, barrage of satire that has plenty of sincerity lurking about. In fact, the genius behind this film (and for that matter Shaun of the Dead) is that the material could be played as easily for drama as it could for laughs, and sometimes the distinction between the two is razor thin. This uncommon layering of comedy and drama makes the film a double-threat and a double-treat for anyone who misses well-crafted entertainment.

So, if it wasn’t enough that the Brits gave us Monty Python, Are You Being Served?, Terry Gilliam comedic fantasies, and The Office, we find ourselves treated to another gifted comedy-team from across the pond. Edgar Wright, Simon Pegg, and Nick Frost have that uncanny chemistry and talent that knows how to craft a laugh. Heck, they even created a hilarious (though all-too brief) role for Office/Extras star Stephen Merchant as the concerned owner of a missing swan. It’s small touches like that which should remind us that subtlety and nuance are not merely the tools of the art-house, and that when properly applied, they can make a genre parody not only entertaining, but also remarkably satisfying.

Thursday, August 23, 2007

A Belated Farewell


What words can one add to the mountain of praise that has been bestowed upon Ingmar Bergman shortly after his death? What is one more stranger’s elegy? Several of these pieces have extolled the uncompromising seriousness and artfulness of the great director’s work but have also mentioned how his status has been diminished as his work has fallen out of favor. This I can only regard with complete bewilderment. How, if one is a true lover of the medium, could one possibly disregard a talent so prodigious and an artist of such exactitude and depth as that of Ingmar Bergman? Dismissing his significance by applying to him the title “the prime purveyor of Nordic gloom” seems almost juvenile. Is Dostoyevsky a less significant novelist because his work is of such a “serious” nature? At the risk of sounding too judgmental is it possible that perhaps Bergman’s falling out of favor with the younger generation is in direct correlation to the ascension of celebrated directors of a different sort: purveyors of glibness, irony, and sensationalism of every stripe? The passing of Bergman and (on the same day) Antonioni doesn’t to my mind mark the passing of a cinematic era, for that happened some time ago when both men’s work ceased to have the mass relevance they once possessed. But if you look around at the meager citizenry that subscribes to cinema as art you can’t help but feel that their passing does (no pun intended) put another couple of nails in the proverbial coffin.