Having said that, I do wish the documentary went into more detail about Ms. Reyner. Her tragectory seemed more interesting than Feinberg’s, even if it isn’t as easily summed up.

Out of curiousity, were you involved in the production of the documentary or in the production of the original film that became Heaven Wants Out?

big egos and big mouths never amount to much; especially in the real world of art; however, in hollywood, that’s what it’s all about

let me just preface my few remarks by saying Ruby Lynn Reyner surely doesn’t have the big ego or big mouth mentioned above but everyone else involved in those two films does, big time

the Shapiro’s attempt at taking the vintage footage Fineberg, or should we call him fiend-berg, shot and trying to make it into something fails miserably — their all too obvious story-line, “there’s no success like failure and failure is no success at all”, stinks — it is droll and mundane, boring to the max and their film suffers for it from the first to the last scene

not to mention it’s painfully sophomoric

with some real elbow grease, and far more brilliance than quite clearly they could muster, Finishing Heaven might have been heaven

but alas it isn’t, not even close

why? well basically giving Fineberg center-stage, and in the process turning Reynor into a supporting character, forwards nothing but the obvious; clearly Fineberg has about as much “Star” quality as he has ambition

while, on the other hand, Reyner exudes star quality, both in her on-screen vintage performances and her kinda squawky, embittered but not bitter present day appearances

Finishing Heaven shows little except a nod to the fact some Warhol characters are there for all to see, and the producers to hype — without them Fineberg’s footage would not have even ended up in the Shapiro’s gargage can, let alone their cutting room floor

Ruby Lynn is “the” film and why the Shiparo’s did not run with her ball and chose instead to hype Fineberg’s gutless gonads is beyond me

As for Heaven Wants Out? in Fineberg’s hands rest assured nothing brilliant was done, or will ever be done, with footage that is genuinely valuable as a document, not as a documentary or a real “film”, that’s fer sure

in fact what needs to to be done is, like making an omelet, taking the two films, cracking their shells together over a hot pan and mushing them together with some tasty condiment and spice

its really too bad no one bothered to listen to me and, yes, i was involved in this “deal” but solely from the sidelines, as about he only thing i did was write the original contract between Ruby Lynn and Fineberg that allowed her to prevent Fineberg’s Fiend-berg personality from stealing the film from her

oh yeah, let’s not forget had i stayed involved no producer would have stolen Reyner’s right to be the star of Finishing Heaven by reducing her role to one that plays sucker to an ambitionless, greedy boulevardier, and cheap hustler, like Fineberg

Sam, you and I both remarked a couple of months ago I belive, how we both thought Sansho the Bailiff was a contender for the greatest film ever made. It’s one of those films that I consider truly untouchable, and it’s not hyperbole for me to call it breathtaking. I’m an enormous fan of Japanese cinema at large. Hmm, this is making me remember my Japanese cinema class with said film professor… Made me wish I had taught it, ahaha. (I hardly ever make such bold statements like that, but it was a fairly poor experience.) Anyway, I love Sansho the Bailiff, and like you I love Mizoguchi and Ozu… I don’t think they’re necessarily better than Kurosawa, but they’re certainly subtler humanists with tremendous bodies of work to their respective names.

I can understand how a critic who loves Bergman would call Godard’s movies masturbation on the screen. And he might have something of a point if he’s talking about a certain stage of Godard’s career (which I doubt he is, considering the weightiness of your quote, and since there were plenty of critics who hammered Godard even between ‘59-to-’68 run). Bergman himself in 2002 said “Godard is a f*cking bore,” and that he only “made his films for the critics.” I have to admit, I get a laugh from just imagining Bergman saying that in Swedish to the interviewer. Also interesting since Godard loved Bergman when he was a young critic, praising what are today considered less known, arguably more “minor” films from Bergman such as Summer Interlude, Secrets of Women, Summer with Monika and Sawdust and Tinsel among others. (All of which I love, too. You really can’t go wrong with Bergman in my opinion.)

(Note to Sam–since we’ve found ourselves on this subject, you might find a review I hammered out last night on Godard’s Contempt interesting. Just click my name at the top of this post. Oh yeah, and I agree with you as well about both French and Japanese cinema–as far as national cinema goes, those are my two favorites on the whole.)

It was perfectly appropriate and necessary. Buncha lazy, impatient bastages.

Alexander, as far as your film professor thinking CITIZEN KANE is vastly overated, apparently he didn’t read Pauline Kael! LOL! Actually, years back a professor in a graduate film course made that same case with RENOIR’S LA REGLE DU JEU, a position that disturbs me to this day. You must ask yourself though if these positions are not sincere but a kind of exhibitionist behavior. It’s similar in a sense to the notorious but brilliant critic John Simon, who, while toasting Ingmar Bergman to the heavens, thought Godard was comparable to “masturbation on the screen.”
I agree with you on Kurosawa (and disagree with your professor) but I must tell you that I rate Ozu and Mizoguchi higher. Maybe it’s my love for humanism, but the latter two, by disavowing the epic spectaculars have concentrated an dramas to reach the very essence of one’s soul—yes Kurosawa had IKIRU in this sense—but the other two has abody of work that addressed itself exclusively to teh human condition………..hence, I would pose that Mizoguchi’s SANSHO THE BALIFF (Sansho Dayu) and Ozu’s TOKYO STORY are the two greatest films in the history of Japanese cinema(and world cinema for that matter), two altogether shattering works that are just about life-changing. I will never forget where I was and how I reacted when I saw both. It’s simular to what Nick Plowman said a few days ago about being teary eyed and numb, but these reactions do last a lifetime. Kurosawa of course has RAN, RASHOMON, SEVEN SAMURAI, THRONE OF BLOOD, HIGH AND LOW and others that are in the ranks of the masterpieces of world cinema, which the other two have gems liek LATE SPRING, AN AUTUMN AFTERNOON, UGETSU and THE STORY OF THE LATE CHRYSANTHEMUMS as well as others that qualify. As of late I have also raised Mikio Naruse, Kon Ichikawa, Kaneto Shindo, Masaki Kobayashi on the list of greatest Japanese directors.
This may well be the most fascinating of all nationalistic cinemas, even at least on par with the French.

My favorite film of the new millenium is Haynes’ FAR FROM HEAVEN, but even that masterpiece, has some some resistance from you guys. I think that years down the road it will be regarded as such, but we will see. The entire argument above about the essence of what art is still must have an afterward that evinces the concept that “Beauty is in the Eye of the Beholder.”
In art this often trumps perceptions of what one thinks is truly exceptional.

If it isn’t discovered, it’s still a masterpiece, methinks. Burnett’s KILLER OF SHEEP is one of the truly great American films. It towers over so many films that some of us (myself included) call great.

I have to admit, I still haven’t seen the extended cut of The Return of the King. I’m still sort of Middle-Earthed out, but I’ve been thinking about revisiting the trilogy and viewing all three extended cuts in one long day. Was Christopher Lee included in the extended cut of The Return of the King?

I agree that when viewed as one single epically long film, it fits that the concluding movement of The Lord of the Rings should take its time as we say goodbye to the characters and watch them take divergent paths beyond what would typically be seen as past plot point necessity. I have to admit, it was a little taxing when I saw it in the theatre by itself, but I imagine you’re right, Joel.

And I wish the Scouring had happened as it would have been totally appropriate, thematically (which Tolkien knew and apparently Jackson didn’t).

Woulda been a cool deleted scene though.

On the other hand, I consider Inland Empire a masterpiece but I also am willing to contend it’s not for everyone and one could just as easily condemn it for Lynch’s self-indulgences as praise it.

I also think the positives of Return of the King, Sideways and Inland Empire vastly outweight any flaws they arguably carry with them.

Joel, I agree with your point as well. Very good example with Killer of Sheep.

Point in fact: Killer of Sheep was widely revered last year as one of the Ten Best Films to gain theatrical release, but it languished in near complete obscurity for decades.

If you make a masterpiece in the forest and no one bothers to praise it, is it still a masterpiece?

There are indeed plenty of contrarians out there, and I’m sure we all fit that label from time to time, but I think that it’s a healthy and necessary attitude to have, to be willing to rub against the grain and suggest ideas that the main body of critics might have overlooked, just as it’s also useful to stand back and decide that the common wisdom is right when appropriate. I have to disagree with Sam: “Disliking something that is roundly praised and admired by professional intellectuals commit their career to such analysis, is certainly allowed, but in the end can’t be taken too seriously.” On the contrary, I think that how seriously or unseriously you take a critic shouldn’t be determined by how many others they agree with, but rather, and more simply, by how well they state their case.

Also, as far as ‘what’s art’ goes, I think the ‘test of time’ concept is a better way to gauge whether or not something is a ‘classic’ or not, not necessarily whether it has true artistic merit. People are still reading The Fountainhead decades later, but I don’t think more than a particular cult believes that it has real literary merit – longevity just means that people continue to find works relevant to their own lives, and things come in and out of fashion across the decades. That said, I agree with Evan that time, as it shapes our long-term perspectives, is necessary to determine what’s a flash in the pan and what has the power to endure.

Also for the record: I had mixed feelings about Far From Heaven, Dogville, and Lost in Translation; I liked but had reservations about Pan’s Labyrinth, Into the Wild, Lives of Others and Talk To Her; and I love Brokeback, ROTK, Sideways, and Inland Empire. Each of those four has flaws, but there comes a point in making an assessment where you have to decide if you want to look at the flaw or on the rest.

I personally agree with you, Sam, about Lost in Translation. I consider Talk to Her a masterpiece, but I have problems with Brokeback Mountain and Far From Heaven that prevent me from declaring them. My thoughts on Sideways (which will probably become a classic), The Return of the King and The Lives of Others are quite complicated, though they’re all films that demand my admiration at the very least.

My film professor thinks Citizen Kane, a film he likes, is wildly overrated, and that a mere herd mentality among film critics and film historians has allowed it to enjoy its perch-like position for so long. I disagree–sure, I’ll concede that a herd mentality, a willingness to go along with the in-crowd may play some part for some critics or whomever, but I’ll stand with Kane as a towering accomplishment in the medium, and just a great, superbly crafted and highly enjoyable film. Same film professor believes Kurosawa is insanely overrated, and dislikes just about everything he ever made. I adamantly disagree, and love Kurosawa, and think that Francis Ford Coppola at least had a very considerable point that Kurosawa may be the only filmmaker to create one masterpiece after another for decades. (Let’s just say, I think Kurosawa’s great and leave it at that, though.) But I do think my professor made some solid points in his favor on both counts, and though I certainly disagree with him on these (and many other) matters, I do respect him for being willing to at least occasionally take unorthodox positions.

Films stand after they are made, and your perception of them can change, at least to degrees, not just over the years but over the weeks and months. For example, my top four films for 2007 were, in this order: No Country for Old Men; There Will Be Blood; Zodiac; The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford. Today, I’d swap #2 and #4 and leave #1 and #3 alone. I still consider Blood a sterling film, but Jesse James just keeps getting better on repeated viewings and has just narrowly edged out both Blood and Zodiac for me.

Or, for a more exciting, less-immersed-in-minutiae example (since the differences in those three films behind No Country are, I think, just a matter of fairly slight degrees), I more or less loathed The Libertine and Dogville but absolutely adored Inland Empire, and consider it one of Lynch’s greatest films, and I’ve come to like and appreciate The Fountain more and more after seeing it again back this past January. In each case I’m coming down on one side of the playing field of critics against the other. The fact that I at least somewhat dislike Von Trier , or am at best lukewarm towards him, and love Lynch, probably has a great deal to do with it, of course.

And while I often clash and disagree with Walter Chaw, for instance, I found myself completely agreeing with him on No Country for Old Men and City of God. (Like Jeff, I also had problems with Meirelles’ The Constant Gardener, and I was kind of amused by Jeff Wells more or less panning Blindness at Cannes because it wasn’t subtle, since I consider Meirelles very unsubtle, but that’s just me.) And as you and I have said back and forth once or twice, I was pretty much with the critics with Sean Penn’s Into the Wild, much to my surprise, while you weren’t.

I suppose it could all be simplified for all of us in the sense that, we like what we like, and the rest is rationalization.

I do agree with the “time argument” as the true validation of greatness. People will continue to read and perform KING LEAR hundreds of years into the future and have done so for over four-hundred to the present.

Similarly I concur that emotion and seduction are powerful (and often overiding issues) in making a judgement. Emotions and passions are what drove me to make the earlier postings in the first place. And yes indeed, I have been there, and am there a few times every year. Last year for example, I professed strong feelings for THE LIBERTINE, amidst (mostly) reprehensible reviews from the critical establishment. I loved Lars Von Trier’s DOGVILLE(people either called it a masterpiece or one of the worst films of the year), and named it the best film of it’s year (with ETERNAL SUNSHINE as the #2) and fawned over David Lynch’s INLAND EMPIRE and Darren Aronofsky’s THE FOUNTAIN, despite the fact that critics were split down the middle on both, with the naysayers evincing outrage.

There are people who have attacked NO COUNTRY, and others who have made claim that THERE WILL BE BLOOD was the far better choice for Best Film. Who is right?

Evan, your essay here puts everything into proper persective.

I understand what you are saying. So much of this goes to the heart of art in general (and all of its subjectivity). What makes one work of art great and another faulty? I would posit that the number one consideration is time. Moby Dick was written over 150 years ago and people are still reading it. That makes it great art. Period. People can disagree with it, call it pretentious trash and what-not, but they can’t argue with the incontrovertible fact that it has endured the test of time and will likely continue to do so. Will City of God be viewed 10, 20, 30 years from now? Will people be talking about it then? Obviously, we can’t answer those questions now. No one can. We can make guesses, but that is all they will be…guesses.

So in the meantime, what do we have to go on? Since time machines are sadly non-existent, we have only opinions and reason. Everyone has opinions, so they count for very little, but not everyone can bring reason to bear behind their arguments. You disliked Lost in Translation, a film most critics fawned over. I don’t think you’re necessarily wrong for going against the grain (I was quite ambivalent to the film), but what really matters are your reasons. If you can provide eloquent, well reasoned arguments for why Lost in Translation is not a masterpiece, then it doesn’t matter if you disagree with everyone. Your points stand for themselves and are valid.

But really, if you put time and reasoning to the side, film is, by its very nature, a seductive art, perhaps the most seductive. Certain films cause us to fall in love in spite of our better judgment, while other films create a deep revulsion within us. The more films we watch, the more we cultivate our senses and instincts, the stronger such reactions will be. Speed Racer was, for me, a borderline orgasmic experience (I realize that is kind of disgusting, but it’s the truth). I can come up with reasons for why it is a great film, and some of my reasons, I believe, would be superior to everyone else’s reasons for why it sucked, but at the end of the day the simple truth is that it seduced me and I ate up every single frame. I don’t really care if time is good to Speed Racer or not (I believe it will be)…I fell in love and that is that.

I realize I have rambled a bit, so let me try and tie my thoughts together. The best critical judge of a work of art is time. Then comes reasoning, with some arguments proving themselves over others (for example, I find the arguments for No Country’s greatness vastly superior to the arguments that hold it is overrated). Finally comes emotion and seduction, which are the most subjective reasons for loving a film but often the most powerful. This is where you often find the lone critic standing against the crowd, and thank goodness, because 1984 and A Brave New World would be horrible places to live.

Someone earlier mentioned Andrew Sarris liking CITY OF GOD. Stanley Kauffmann of THE NEW REPUBLIC, the man I consider to be the greatest living critic (he is still writing reviews at that publication at 94, bless his heart!) also thought CITY OF GOD was “extraordinary.” And so did numerous others that we all respect. I do concede, however, that Manohla Dargis, whom Craig and many others here greatly respect did have serious issues with the film.

There is no question that CITY OF GOD was bleak, uncompromising and depressing—perhaps that’s why Meirelles needed to lighten the tone with that music—but the entire reason why the film left you numb was largely because of that viscerel power. There was much substance in the visuals, not in any sequential narrative. I was repulsed by the film, but at teh same time exhiliarated by the eclectic filmaking, which set off a spate of inferior imitations.

I agree with both of you. The kinetic, visual style of the film was a revelation–you were watching a director Being Born, and you knew it. But at the end I was slightly horrified with the way the subject matter was treated. If Meirelles was really trying to highlight the truly awful conditions there, then why did he go to such lengths to glamorize and stylize everything? The kicker for me was the closing shot of the film…those kids walk away, having killed a man, set to a hip, ’70s pop tune. Are you telling me what I’ve just seen is awful? If so, why are you jazzing it up with catchy music and clever editing?

Whew, so good to get that off of my chest. I’ve been holding it in for years, afraid for my life should I open my mouth. :)

In the end, are we to really take this criticism seriously or should be refer sucha person to an isolated ward at Bellview. In this instance and in numerous other artistic blasphemies, we must come to the conclusion that such a statement tells us more about the person writing it or saying it rather than about the work itself.

Such people are egotistical charletans.

(and again, lest I set off WW3, I am NOT talking about Jeff here, but about the nature of artistic criticism. His posting just set me off in this direction. I don’t know nearly enough about Jeff or his taste to make such an allegation.)

There is a grave misconception —not with you—-but with a general segment of the critical population that issuing a bad review for any work in any artistic form is somehow more ‘intellectually informed’ than saying one likes anything and everthing that is praised by the establishment.
I could very easily say that I don’t like Almodovar’s TALK TO HER, Haynes’ FAR FROM HEAVEN, Payne’s SIDEWAYS, Coppola’s LOST IN TRANSLATION, Lee’s BROKEBACK MOUNTAIN, Jackson’s RETURN OF THE KING, Von Donnarsmarck’s THE LIVES OF OTHERS all at the same time, and get away with it because criticism is not a democracy.
Disliking something that is roundly praised and admired by professional intellectual scommit their career to such analysis, is certainly allowed, but in the end can’t be taken too seriously.
For the record, of the above films, I did not care for LOST IN TRANSLATION after seeing it THREE times in the theatre, but loved all the others. There can be a divergence, but when someone professes to have issues with nearly every film out there, well, I think that speaks for itself (again this is not you specifically Jeff, I know others over the years who hate every release and try and come off as ‘in the know’ and ’smarter than everyone else.’)