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| Cinema Missions Blitz - Spirited Away, Comedian, The Ring. <<begin transmission>> <<receiving encryption>> <<decrypted text follows>> Fwats_x reporting in. Part of being a Cinema Missions operative [CMO] means being able to adapt as your environment changes. The window for conducting missions is often small, and additionally the amount of missions may suddenly double or perhaps triple. In this case, the summer movie fluff has given way to the fall movie calendar ... aka the Season of the Art House/Indie Flick. To contend with this onslaught of releases, I've altered my strategy accordingly by conducting a Cinema Missions Blitz: a lightning-quick series of capsule reviews, as opposed to the standard-issue, full length missions (see the CM for Signs). Wait for it ... wait for it.... and .... GO. Cinema Missions Blitz - Spirited Away, Comedian, The Ring. Spirited Away (Japanese Title "Sen to Chihiro no Kamikakushi") When the Walt Disney Corporation seized the U.S distribution rights for all Studio Ghibli (Japanese animation studio of anime master Hayao Miyazaki), the first reaction was panic. When one of the greatest corporate evils on the planet captures one of the few sources of raw animation talent left in the world, it's not exactly reason to celebrate. Fans were certain that Team Rodent would systematically destroy Miyazaki's works in a bid to repackage and reformat (read: bastardize) his films for a Western audience. Two domestic theatrical releases later, Miyazaki's films "Mononoke no Hime" (Princess Mononoke) and Spirited Away ("Sen to Chihiro no Kamikakushi") have screened virtually unaltered, save for being dubbed with an English language track. And in the case of Spirited Away, the AMC Kabuki in San Francisco opted to keep the original Japanese language track, giving audiences the purest experience of this masterwork possible. So much for Disney wrecking stuff, eh? My current theory is that Team Rodent wants to "give back" after blatantly ripping off the Japanese animated series "Kimba the White Lion" with their wildly popular movie, The Lion King. I call Spirited Away a masterwork as I do with most of Miyazaki's films, not out of mere habit, but out of my genuine sense of astonishment that renews itself every time I watch another one of his movies. Here, all the Miyazaki trademarks are in full force: the young girl heroine (and no, not a wide-eyed anime "chick," an actual girl, mind you), the conflict between realistic and supernatural worlds, and Miyazaki's persistent penchant for immaculate animation that consistently makes other animation studios look like a bunch of part-time suckas. Best of all, you don't have to be some kind of subtitle-eatin'-pretentious-foreign-film-snob-fuckface to enjoy Spirited Away. That's right. Think Alice in Wonderland with a healthy dose of tripped out Japanese folklore, and that's all you need to know. It's a film for the masses, young and old. The subtitles are laid down smooth, fat and readable - an essential yet rare feat for a great number of subtitled films. Dig into this visual feast like big boat of sushi. It's that good, and that fresh. Comedian Jerry Seinfeld's foray into the big screen is actually astonishingly tiny - a documentary style shot on video that follows his intrepid return to stand-up comedy after purging every joke he's ever written. Jerry (I don't think he'll mind if I call him Jerry) starts from a clean slate and builds his act joke by joke, minute by minute. He crashes comedy clubs across the country, testing his new material on sometimes surprised, often clueless audiences who don't always recognize him. Meanwhile, new blood Ornie Adams wages his own stand-up battle to achieve the household-name status that Jerry has already achieved, and now moved beyond. Erratic, addled with doubt, desperate for attention, and wildly funny, Adams is the antithesis of the aloof and mellow Jerry. This is as structured as "Comedian" gets, as it parallels the two comics at utterly opposite ends of the career spectrum. Enjoyment of this film, it seems, is directly hinged upon your expectation of "Comedian" being 90 minutes of stand-up, or a low-key documentary. If you're expecting the former, you're likely to be mightily disappointed, since the actual stand-up scenes play second fiddle to the "insider" elements that feature Seinfeld chatting with other comics in bars, restaurants, etc., killing the agonizing waiting time in the green room right before going onstage, or simply driving around and rattling off deep comic thoughts. I was in the latter bunch. I was expecting nothing, and thoroughly digested this rare glimpse into the hermetically sealed world of the comic. The Ring First it was a horror novel by Japanese author Koji Suzuki. Then it was a horror film by Japanese director Kideo Nakata. Then it was sequeled, not once but twice, to form a tight little horror trilogy that garnered an international cult following. Now, the first film has been re-spun for American audiences, by a director whose horror credentials begin promptly with his first name, Gore Verbinski. Let this serve as a fair warning: any film made by a guy named Gore has to be scary on some level. And in the case of "The Ring", whose terror has soiled the pants of countless viewers the world over, even a guy named Francine could have made this film scary. The beauty of great horror films is that they work best when treated like a secret to be revealed. I could tell you all about the great premise, the wonderful execution, and unique visual styles that make "The Ring" a worthy successor to "The Exorcist", and make the high-concept, lo-fi "Blair Witch Project" look like a cracker jack prank. Or, I could simply recommend you to see this film -- with a friend -- and you could thank me later. It's the kind of film that you have to savor minute by nail-biting minute, instead waiting to see that one "gnarly part I saw in the preview," or "this one part I read about in a review." Don't' bother with expectations. "The Ring" can scare you in so many ways, it's well, scary. I checked out "The Ring" on a late night at the Vogue Theater in a dead San Francisco neighborhood. Its dilapidated, echoey walls enhanced the Ring's effect, as did a strange series of anonymous thuds emanating from somewhere outside the theater, like a giant wooden castle drawbridge slamming down over and over again. For any other movie, this would have been intensely annoying. But somehow it fight right into "The Ring"'s mystique, and pumped the lifeblood of fear throughout the audience in slow, heavy heartbeats. <<end decrypted text>> <<end transmission>> |