#newsreel narrator

[logray]

THE INCREDIBLES (2004) dir. Brad Bird

"In a stunning turn of events, a superhero is being sued for saving someone who, apparently, didn't want to be saved."

[shewhoworshipscarlin]

Here’s another bunch of ignorant shit… school uniforms. Bad theory; the idea that if kids wear uniforms to school, it helps keep order. Don’t these schools do enough damage making all these kids think alike? Now they’re gonna get them to look alike too? And it’s not a new idea; I first saw it in old newsreels from the 1930s, but it was hard to understand cause the narration was in German! --George Carlin

[tentacleteapot]

[old-timey newsreel narrator voice] dedicated tumblr scientists are hard at work inventing new, even more incorrect ways to negatively misinterpret YOUR posts! keep up the good work, fellas!

[floatyhands]

Normal contemporary urban area that just happens to be Chinese: *exists*

1930s English-speaking newsreels narrator: OVER THERE THEY CLING TO ANCIENT UNCHANGING CUSTOMS AND TRADITIONS, WITH NO REGARDS TO PROGRESS AND MODERNITY

Context: (very illuminating video otherwise)

[florallychaotic]

I can't remember what US president they were talking about but clearly this was mid 20th century but I have this vivid memory of a newsreel showing the president and his wife walking down the steps of an airplane as the narrator speaking from the future says "The president had a difficult trip to Austria, which started with him falling down the airplane stairs" *shows that moment* ".......there would also be two assassination attempts on his life"

Idk why it's just replaying in my head today

[romanceyourdemons]

luis buñuel’s controversial documentary land without bread (1933) presents an interesting angle to the major trends of class commentary throughout his filmography. the documentary, which presents visceral accounts of extreme poverty situated in the center of europe and specifically of buñuel’s native spain, parallels his later the exterminating angel (1962) in its very explicit juxtaposition of “modern” prosperity and refinement with a brutal, savage struggle for existence; as well as los olvidados (1950) in its grisly depiction of destitution. the difference between these films and this is the obvious separation between camera and subject in land without bread (1933). the flat-voiced, newsreel-style narration—performed live by the director in original screenings—contrasts viscerally with the shocking images of destitution, disease, and death from within the heart of a nation so proud of its modernization and democratic self-improvement. this shock and contrast, constantly situationally highlighting the proximity of the camera and cameramen to their suffering subjects, whom they never save, is the central goal of the film, stripping away the romanticization of spain and, simultaneously, of the callous travel films turning the suffering in african countries into european entertainment. the film certainly succeeds on that front; however, like in later documentary parody cannibal holocaust (1980), some of the striking, shocking images of everyday brutality were not so incidental to the camera’s presence: buñuel infamously reportedly caused the deaths of two animals, which he filmed to illustrate the omnipresence of cruel, accidental death. by watching the somewhat too-good shot composition of these scenes, one can get a sense from the film itself that these deaths were not true coincidences; however, i cannot guess the extent to which buñuel intended the audience to think that. in any case, the camera’s provocation of its subjects is central to this film, even if it is somewhat unusual in buñuel’s filmography; however, the purpose for which it does this—closing the affective gap between refinement and utter, despicable, dehumanizing poverty—connect land without bread (1933) very strongly to the rest of the director’s work

[memecucker]

Cool vid of Mildred Burke wrestling in the 1950s. Burke was a womens pro wrestling pioneer and well known for her physique, legit athletic prowess (she apparently defeated men in shoot contests) and desire to have womens wrestling be presented on the same level as men’s wrestling. She got out-politicked by the Fabulous Moolah who managed to get her wrestling school more or less a monopoly on women’s wrestling and steered it more in the direction of being more light hearted “girly fighting” with heels (as in shoes) and hair pulling etc (and also accusations of severely abusing her students) but that’s another story

I think there’s an interesting juxtaposition with how the narrator describes the clip (which I presume is for newsreels) and the actual action in the ring because it sounds like he’s anticipating it to go into cat-fight cliches and treats it as a novelty when all of the moves being done are the exact same that men do and if anything Burke was even unusually violent for a babyface even by those standards at least in the 1950s

[steampunkforever]

Killers of the Flower Moon was a film I saw a second ago but had to digest before writing on. The subject matter is heavy, addressing a facet of the genocide against American Indians previously unknown to the general public. It portrays a sensitive topic that requires finesse, and does so while also telling a complicated story of love and betrayal. There is no way to satisfactorily capture ever aspect of history in the length of a single film, even one 3 hours and 30 minutes long, but Killers of the Flower Moon does its best to do justice to the hidden tragedies this country is built on.

In the 1830s and 1840s, the American federal government forcibly exiled the indigenous inhabitants of the southeastern United States (and their African slaves) to a patch of frontier land known as Indian Territory. The Osage people got what the film describes as "bad land" and were forced to survive off much less fertile ground than tribes in other parts of the territory. After the end of the Civil War, a former Confederate soldier, tipped off to rich coal deposits in the eastern part of the area, married into Chickasaw citizenship in order to gain land and mineral rights to the deposits, kicking off a small mining boom in the area. This would not be the last time a white man would marry into the tribes with the intent to exploit the land rights of American Indians. The tribal government would find him guilty of betraying the Chickasaw nation and sentence him to death, a fate he only escaped by fleeing the territory via railroad handcar. He would later have a town named after him and become the newly minted state of Oklahoma's second Lt. Governor. The general store he operated for some time would also be the basis for the one featured in True Grit.

Killers of the Flower Moon is a film about a conspiracy carried out by white men to steal land and mineral rights by marrying full-blooded Osage and then murdering them. Not exactly the zany mafia movie melodrama expectations one went into Gangs of New York with.

The film centers around the internal struggle of the man central to pulling off the conspiracy: Leo DiCaprio's Ernest, a weak minded WWI vet who married an Osage woman that he deeply loves and yet follows his uncle's orders in arranging for the assassinations of her family and other targeted Osages. He's not an antihero, nor is he a classic villain as much as he's got no backbone and goes along with this genocide even as he cares for his Indian wife.

This focus on a non-native character in a film about native land rights has gotten Scorsese some critical pushback, which is something that the hypercritical nature of making films about "activist topics" was guaranteed to get him one way or another.

In defense of this film and Scorsese's creative decision, the movie is less about some heroic savior G-Man popping in to save those poor natives from the dastardly bandits and more about our own complicity with the injustices and genocides of the modern day.

It's a complicated story of complicity and cognitive dissonance, and by setting the main character as a sympathetic but evil man, it allows for a much more meaningful and sophisticated piece of art than if this were just a rote crime film set in a rootin tootin frontier town. There's even a segment where, shortly after a newsreel highlighting the Tulsa Race Massacre, the Osages march in a parade right next to the KKK and nobody bats an eye, capturing just how weird the politics of the 20s really were, furthering the themes of cognitive dissonance.

One thing the film gets especially right is the simmering resentment of the white population towards the Osage, capturing this interesting feeling of "if we wronged you so badly how come you guys are doing great and we're here barely getting by" that highlights the class and racial struggles of the conflict.

The film opens with narration over a montage of Osage wealth, stating that Oklahoma in the 20s was the state with the most Pierce Arrows in the nation, better known as the luxury auto brand chosen for the first presidential limousine. The Osages have jewels and big houses and (all white) live-in servants and chauffeurs, even as many of them find themselves at the mercy of a federal government that holds them to be legally incompetent. The whites in the film are there to catch the scraps, which is a narrative we don't often see when discussing injustices against the Tribes, emphasizing the power that comes with land ownership and the material motivations for the atrocities committed in the movie.

This was clearly a very important story for Scorsese, and you can see the love and care in every minute of the feature. The people look like people did back then, uniquely pretty even if they were weighed more than the 1970s-does-the-1920s cocaine-skinny flapper caricatures, grizzled in ways that spoke to the frontier past of the oil towns they lived in, and altogether human in order to clearly portray the film's dedication to telling the story in all its ugly truth.

Block off a day to watch it, but do watch it. One of the best films of the year, even if it was missing a badly needed intermission.

[denimbex1986]

'Thanks/blame for this article’s existence must go to DMovies founder and editor Victor Fraga, who offered me the opportunity/challenge to write a response to his ‘Oppenheimer’ write-up after we crossed swords about it on Twitter, the primary cause of our schism being the argument at the core of the piece, summed-up in his original tweet:

“It is downright insulting that someone should make a film about the alleged suffering of the creator of the atomic bomb, while blatantly and entirely neglecting the suffering of the victims”

Being a narrative film and not a documentary we cannot approach Oppenheimer as being the literal truth of an event, we should however take into account Christopher Nolan’s well-documented quest for realism in his films. This is a filmmaker who collaborated with theoretical physicist Kip Thorne for 2014’s Interstellar to ensure its mind-bending, time-altering events remained within the realms of scientific reality. With Oppenheimer, Nolan wrote the screenplay with authors Kai Bird & Martin J. Sherwin, who had previously both written books on the atomic bomb and its use against Japan, later collaborating on the Oppenheimer biography that served as the basis for Nolan’s film (American Prometheus: The Triumph and Tragedy of J. Robert Oppenheimer). Spending 35 years researching the necessary details required of its scientifically complex, decade-spanning subject. None of this leads me to believe that Nolan is the kind of filmmaker who cuts corners when it comes to accuracy, so I should really be able to rely on his portrayal of Oppenheimer as being an accurate representation.

In one scene Oppenheimer blurts out “I have blood on my hands” whilst meeting with the president, the depth of his guilt growing ever-larger since the bomb’s use against Japan in 1945, these attacks are scenes we never explicitly see in the film. But the ghosts of Hiroshima & Nagasaki still haunt the film’s second half, with Oppenheimer experiencing nightmarish visions, including one standout moment during his ‘victory’ speech to the Manhattan Project members. In this scene a woman approaches Oppenheimer mid-speech, burnt skin hanging from her face and arms as she reaches out to him wraith-like, to drag him to the underworld. Another scene shows a group of scientists watching newsreel footage from Hiroshima as a narrator describes the aftermath of the attack, with charred bodies still littering the streets and the many still dying from deadly radiation that followed the blast. The camera never shows us the imagery we hear described, instead moving past the scientist’s faces as they react to what they are witnessing. When the camera reaches Oppenheimer himself, he looks away from the newsreel, overwhelmed with the guilt of his actions, he cannot bear to witness the horrible reality shown in the footage. One of the key criticisms in Fraga’s piece was that because the film is so subjective in its focus on Oppenheimer himself, it can therefore not show the objective truth of these events. I might be able to entertain Fraga’s perspective, were it not backed up by his assertion that the film was:

“One of the most unabashed and toxic apologias of American Imperialism I have seen in my life, cunningly camouflaged as historical reflection; it seeks to to justify the unjustifiable by brushing over a crucial fact, and by robbing victims of their identity”

My main argument against this point being that taking on the subject of the Manhattan Project, its many scientists, their frantic race to create the atom bomb before the Nazis and the bomb’s eventual use against the Japanese, is more than enough to fill a movie’s running time. But Nolan as ever, is not short of ambition, so adds into the mix the life story of Oppenheimer himself, who he was, how he worked, how/who he loved, and the forces that fuelled him and his work, all leading to his hobbling by the US government in unceremonious final years. It sounds like a lot and it is, but even at 3 hours long, the film doesn’t feel bogged-down, with Nolan’s masterstroke his ability to structure a long and densely-detailed historical drama like a thriller. Not one where the thrills are without emotional stakes, but where the sheer weight of events nails you to your seat, the world-altering scenarios and life-or-death decisions being made by terrifyingly-fallible real people. In one scene a scientist, during the make-or-break first atomic test in New Mexico, is given the unenviable task of keeping watch over a radiation monitor and ordered to initiate the test’s self-destruct mechanism should this dial go above a certain level, resulting in the destruction of not just years of work, but of America’s entire stockpile of radioactive materials.

This atomic test sequence leads to another aspect I clashed with Fraga on, namely his insistence that because the film showed that initial test explosion but not the subsequent bombings of Hiroshima & Nagasaki, it ignored the horrific reality of those attacks, instead choosing to present the atomic bomb as something glorious or ‘cool’ (Fraga’s own words). My argument being that the test sequence marks the culmination of years of hard work by the scientists, many of which are European Jewish refugees, to create a weapon to defeat Hitler ultimately end the war. In this test sequence the Manhattan Project scientists see first-hand the incredible destructive power they have collectively unleashed, an opening of Pandora’s Box made astonishing reality. The film is so firmly subjective in its handling of events that were it to suddenly cut to Hiroshima mid atomic blast in an attempt to quantify these events, it would be so against what we had experienced of the film thus far. I could imagine a more conventional telling of this story, cutting to Japan to show the attacks in an orgy of expensive but hollow CGI, but that type of generic storytelling is just not Nolan’s style. He’s such a specific filmmaker and despite his film covering the lives of many fascinating real life characters and momentous world events, it remains a story about Robert Oppenheimer. And expecting a film so focused on the telling of such a rich and complex story to also feature the myriad other possible perspectives involved in it’s events [sic], is not just ridiculous in terms of basic filmmaking logistics, but also in its assumptions of what audiences require to achieve a relevant understanding of such events, or indeed what filmmaker’s duties may be with regard to this.

Fraga also stated in his writing that America’s use of the bomb had “nothing to do” with Japan’s surrender in August 1945 as they were ready to do so before the bomb’s use, but the evidence surrounding the matter is complicated and requires much analysis. Was Japan’s surrender 100% down to the atomic bomb? If pushed for a yes/no answer I’d have to say ‘no’. With Stalin preparing an invasion from the north and the Japanese government in turmoil with members of the military assassinating politicians who spoke up in support of peace talks. Combine these factors with the general state of Japan at that time, its infrastructure and cities decimated by constant bombing, huge death tolls (both military and civilian) all leading to economic ruin and widespread starvation, with all remaining resources going to the war effort etc. We must acknowledge that without a definitive surrender by Japan, there was always a very real chance of ground invasion by American forces, thanks to repeated assurances by Japanese leaders throughout the war of their no surrender stance. With the Americans having already fought a gruelling war in the Pacific against the Japanese, experiencing their barbaric treatment of civilian populations in battles on the islands approaching Japan and understanding all-too-well the horrific potential for casualties on all sides were the invasion to become reality.

Another scene in the film has a group of Manhattan Project scientists holding a meeting about their reluctance to proceed with the bombing of Japan. Having created the bomb to be used against the Nazis, but with Hitler now dead, what was to be gained from using it now against Japan. Oppenheimer then gives an impassioned speech to assure them of its importance that the bomb is still used, his argument being it is not just a tool to win wars, but one that could end all wars. With only the actual use of this weapon showing the world the obliterating power they had created there, meaning that no one would be able to attempt what Hitler just had, ever again. We now know of course that Oppenheimer was subsequently proven wrong about this, but that does not change the context of the choices made within that very specific historic moment. What we can say now is perhaps Oppenheimer’s biggest mistake was not in his creation of the atomic bomb, but in his belief that the American military would do the right thing with it and that his government would act in the best interests of humanity, instead of what actually occurred, as powerfully depicted in the film’s chilling final moments.

Perhaps Fraga’s most brazen claim is that Western civilisation is so warped in its appreciation of Oppenheimer (the film and the man) that plans could already be underway for an Oppenheimer-related theme park attraction:

“I could almost see an Oppenheimer Disney ride soon, magnificent with pyrotechnics and sound engineering, the pinnacle of bad taste, but not a sign of what it was like to be on the ground of Hiroshima and Nagasaki at the time. It seems that the American company may already be moving in that direction.”

Fraga’s speculation on this topic was further fuelled by an article from unofficial theme park fan-site, who reported that in wanting to jump on the Barbenheimer bandwagon, Disney employees had added two faux mediaeval scrolls to a lesser-seen area of one of their parks, featuring the words “Barbie” and “Oppenheimer”. (For the sake of context and anyone not already aware, the Barbenheimer phenomenon started when Warner Brothers sent a message to recently-departed golden-boy Nolan by planting the release date of their upcoming Barbie (Greta Gerwig, 2023) movie on the same weekend as Oppenheimer’s. The resulting media fallout quickly evolved from the two films being seen as pitted against one-another to becoming an essential cinematic double-bill. With what had started out as a grassroots trend becoming ever-more studio-supported as it grew in scale and scope as Warner Bros and Universal realised what could be gained by leaning-in to the ever-growing Barbie-Oppenheimer mania. The outcome of all this being huge box office for both movies, with Oppenheimer making back eight times its original budget, a previously unimaginable achievement for a three hour, R-rated, historical drama and an one in no-small-part thanks to the turning-up of cinema-goers who would previously never considered a film like Oppenheimer, were it not for the accompanying Barbenheimer hype train.

The relevance of this being that with the world still very much in thrall to Barbenheimer mania, of course some people would end up treating these two very different movies as somehow equally meme-worthy. Does Fraga really believe that this silly but harmless article somehow validates his accusation of America’s rotten soul? And of Disney/Warners/Universal’s worship of Oppenheimer (and Barbie too presumably?) as idols of the blood-soaked, imperialist industrial complex? He might not be a million miles from the truth! But it’s those important details that differentiate Fraga’s vision from reality that ultimately I’m interested in. I like my films and film criticism full of what I guess I myself strive for in life; to take on big topics, immerse myself in the details, try not to get overwhelmed by everything – and, regardless of whether things end up subjective or objective in the end… What matters most is that they’re well-intentioned, grounded in reality and full of all-important context.'

[sleepymarmot]

Seventeen Moments of Spring (1973): a review

Here is the non-spoilery review/introduction/recommendation I promised.

For many of us living in the post-Soviet states, this title needs no introduction. It’s impossible to remember how old I was when I encountered a Stierlitz joke for the first time — elementary school age, maybe earlier? What I didn’t realize was that the show had become such a hit not just because of its effective mythmaking or because the hero is absurdly badass, though both of these things are true. It is also genuinely brilliant TV that stood the test of time with ease.

Seventeen Moments of Spring turns 50 in a few months. That means that as good as the show is, it is of course also dated in several ways. The most noticeable is the pacing. This show was made for an entirely different attention span in mind. It’s not a problem of a slow start — the stakes are established within the first episode. But every individual scene takes more time than it would have taken in a modern show, and the addition of real newsreel footage slows down the action even further.

Another thing that is noticeable to the modern viewer is how gendered the story is. The nigh-untouchable (to a certain extent — no spoilers!) protagonist embodies pretty much every masculine virtue you can think of, and selflessly sacrifices his feelings for patriotic duty. There’s only one prominent female character, and she is given the opposite role: more vulnerability, more raw emotion, less opportunity for dashing heroism. The show’s director is a woman, and this might rightfully be a factor in you deciding to watch this show — but don’t let that give you false hopes for a feminist narrative.

The show is an adaptation of a single novel in a series, and that has certain effects on the plot. One of them is a huge benefit compared to what saturates the modern pop culture: the show wastes no time on establishing an origin story, opening in the final months of the war with all pieces already on the board. The main plot was perhaps better suited for a book format: I found it convoluted and difficult to follow, especially when the voiceover narration didn’t offer extra explanations. By the way, the show’s method of information delivery also needed getting used to: for me, plot developments were often confusing upon first introduction, and became clear as they were explained later.

But you don’t need to know anything about the plot beforehand. I didn’t. I was only aware of the premise — a Soviet spy in deep cover in Nazi Germany — and that was probably the perfect amount of knowledge. My viewing experience was a strange version of a completely fresh unspoiled first viewing where I had to guess where the plot was heading and concentrate hard on following it, except I’d known the protagonist’s name since childhood and so had to simultaneously observe another process: how it slowly ceased to be the name of just the joke character and became the name of a dreamy angsty hypercompetent hero I was forming an emotional attachment to.

One of the main factors of the show’s success are the attraction and sympathy the main character inspires despite — or, rather, because of — his emotional unavailability. The creators understood the appeal of a handsome man who is not only very good at his job but also represses his true self and creatively adapts it to the environment just as clearly as any modern day fangirl does. He is in tight control of not only his actions but also every emotion he allows to reach his face. The actor’s expression barely changes even in the most open, unguarded moments. And yet the hero’s exhaustion, loneliness, and homesickness are effectively conveyed with the help of the iconic music in the long, slow scenes, achieving the lyricism that became one of the most memorable aspects of the show.

Don’t look for historical accuracy here. According to several researches referenced by the Wikipedia article, the setting was more of a reflection of the USSR than a faithful depiction of the Third Reich. I assume that watching this will give you more insight on Soviet culture than on WWII.

You might want to check out this show if you are interested in:

hypercompetent protagonists

also very competent antagonists who act like three-dimensional humans and not evil cardboard cutouts

men who are emotionally repressed almost to the breaking point

Stoic Masculine Angst™

political intrigue and spy mind games

the unrelenting tension of working against some of the most dangerous people on the planet right under their nose

all sorts of people living in a totalitarian state, the roles they have chosen to play in it, and how they act when they know its days are numbered

excellent acting

black and white cinematography, intentionally chosen over color for stylistic reasons

beautiful theme music

On the other hand, here are some things that you might want to be aware of. The pacing is slow, the plot demands attention, and the material is often heavy — so it’s more of a “slow journey over 2-4 weeks” show than a “binge in two days” one. For me, the episodes usually took more time to watch than their actual runtime, and left me exhausted — and I suspect I’m not the only one. Important content warning: one of the episodes shows real concentration camp footage; you can notice when the narration starts going in that direction and prepare yourself. There are also scenes of physical and psychological torture inflicted on people of various ages starting from a very small child; they’re not gory but still disturbing. Some other scenes I found hard to watch because of how suspenseful they were. On the flip side, you might find the black uniforms and cars a tad too sleek and fashionable, and there are characters based on real Nazis who are written and played charismatically enough that you might be surprised by how happy you are to see them on screen. Don’t even try to apply any modern Western standards of representation, obviously — not only because the show is half a century old but even more so because of the setting. Ignore the colorized version if you encounter that, watch the black and white original.

Finally, I can’t not mention why I suddenly decided to watch this classic after having zero interest in it throughout my entire life. The last few months of 2022 were brightened for me by two works of fiction:

A star-filled, stylish cult 1973 drama about a Russian man in a violent Western European environment, featuring a time/clock motif and a major female character named Katya

A 12-episode TV show about the fight against fascism, notable for portraying the antagonists as humans as opposed to one-dimensional evil caricatures, and likely to irritate some viewers with its slow pacing

I started watching Seventeen Moments of Spring because it was a classic antifascist espionage TV show from 1973, and was amazed to discover that it also shared all other features listed above. It’s not often you watch something at just the right time mostly by coincidence! Shout out to the film that is definitely real and the show that might be a fandom’s collective fever dream (or is that the other way around?) for bringing me here.

[sithwitch13]

AEW Rampage 7/5/24

Does Rush have new entrance gear? I feel like I would have remembered that mask

Was Kommander just twitching next to Don Callis?

Callis Night continues with Takeshita and Callis! This has really been the week of "if evil, why hot" in my TV viewing

I love Renee's sparkly top

Roddy continues to be a toxic ex

I can't hate the Kingdom, they're weird little minion freaks

"It's a touch and go situation" lol Danny's backstage eating ice cream while they stitch him up

PRECIOUS BABY SEAL KYLE

Samoa Joe giving us all catharsis

(I have thoughts on the Learning Tree storyline and audience catharsis for last year in particular but they're not quite fully formed yet)

Trish Adora vs Toni Storm tomorrow? Hell yes!

(Also loving the 40s newsreel style narration)

I'd love Shida to win but also I feel like we're heading for the emotional destruction of a Mariah vs Toni match

Toni and TK have both been clear that this arc of Toni's story is based on All About Eve, and I both dread and anticipate the inevitable turn

Lol Shida trying to hit Mariah with the MJF doll

Mariah like "I need to be on Toni's boobs for my health"

[project1939]

200 Films of 1952

Film number 193: De VI Olympiske Vinterleker Oslo 1952 (aka, The VI Winter Olympics, Oslo 1952)

Release date: October 31st, 1952 

Studio: Norsk Film 

Genre: documentary 

Director: Tancred Ibsen 

Actors: Hjalmar “Hjallis” Andersen, King Olav V 

Plot Summary: This is a documentary about the 1952 Winter Olympics in Oslo, Norway.  

My Rating (out of five stars): ***¼  

If you’re looking for an artistic documentary about the Olympics with in-depth coverage of specific athletes and their stories, this is not the film for you. It is a rather dry and straightforward overview of the proceedings and events that occurred in Oslo in 1952. It’s wonderful as a historical record, but a thrilling watch it is not. 

The Good: 

The print I saw was in great condition. You can find it for free online on the Olympics website. 

This is priceless as a history of the event.  

It was fun to notice the differences in the ceremonies. There were only 30 countries competing! 

The glimpses of the crowds were probably my favorite part. I loved seeing details like some people wearing extra knitted foot warmers around their boots.

The speed skating sprints were the most exciting event for me. 

I was impressed with the athleticism of the men’s figure skating. The sport has certainly become more difficult today, but the difference wasn’t as big as I imagined. 

The way the compulsory figure skating routines were judged was trippy to me. All the judges stood on the ice close to the skater while they performed, and afterwards, part of what they judged was the marks the skater left on the ice! 

The bob sled races were really entertaining- it looked like the entire chute was made of ice. 

The ski jump finale was probably the highlight. The soaring athletes were watched by a crowd of 140,000 people! 

The Bad: 

The narrator was pretty monotone. 

It often felt like an extended newsreel. 

It got kind of repetitive after a while, probably because it felt so much like a newsreel. It also didn’t help that every event was either some kind of skating or some kind of skiing. 

It was clearly shot silently, and sound was added in later. The film did a decent job making the audio feel realistic, but it was still obvious it wasn't the authentic sound. 

It would have been nice if we had gotten to know some of the athletes. There were no interviews, and we were given no information about them other than their names and if they had won anything before.

There was a moment of ick when the narrator was describing a Japanese ski jumper- “An Oriental performance by Japan’s Kawashima shows us that the Children of the Sun can now jump too.” 

Was there also a stereotyping dig at North Americans in there? When speaking of hockey players, the North Americans were described as being especially prone to fights and violence on the ice, compared to their European competitors. This probably has truth in it, but the narrator's tone made it feel like a dig about how unrefined Americans and Canadians are!

[gwarden123]

Hmm. This may be a rambling thought that doesn't go anywhere. I was watching something that was about war in general and the person narrating brought up a point that I've heard at least one other person say about modern conflicts going on. That these wars are shown widely on the news or on social media. And this is pointed out as if it's a new thing to be noted, that it might say something about our current society, or that it might have some unknown effect on today's youth.

And while, yes, increased access to the internet does mean that more people can see or hear about a piece of news more readily (not a new thing either, since the Arab Spring happened more than a decade ago) people wondering what such a heavy media coverage of a war might mean for a society's moral character has been a thing since at least the first Gulf War. There is that famous image, type of image really, of the infrared camera footage from a bomb of its target as it drops and detonates being shown on the evening news. And people talked about war becoming like a videogame and what that meant for the children of the day, meaning 1991. There is even a reference to it in Only You Can Save Mankind. The basic story of Command and Conquer is clearly influenced by these ideas.

(As a side note, that isn't even the first conflict that comes up when you search for "the first televised war", which is what I did to double-check my memory. That would be the Vietnam War. And I'm not quite sure what distinguishes from newsreels from World War 2, other than quantity and speed. Is it because that particular war was a bad showing from the US? Like how the TikTok generation is being turned against Israel apparently? Honestly, I don't see how any of this is different from dispatches from the Crimean War.)

[tarafostersblog]

The battle of Algiers

The Battle of Algiers, released in 1966, is a heartbreaking film. At the start of the movie, we witness four people concealing themselves from the French military. Subsequently, without any warning, a chilling and eerie soundtrack is introduced, transporting us back in time to witness the Algerian people's rebellion against the French soldiers. The composition of several shots stood out in a remarkable way, and the editor's choices significantly enhanced the storytelling aspect. The narrative maintained my interest, with outstanding performances and well-developed characters. The depiction of violence was purposeful yet not excessively graphic, and the representation of colonization captured the essence of Algeria while still resonating on a global level. The element that stood out to me the most in the composition was the editing, despite the presence of various impressive factors. This war film is truly remarkable, as it possesses a distinct documentary-style visual presentation that contributes to its overall authenticity. The text essentially narrates the story of Algeria's quest for independence through the perspective of a neutral observer, without imposing any political biases or promoting specific political ideologies. The movie bears some resemblance to the current situation unfolding in the world between the Islamic community and Palestine. It deeply saddens me to witness the tragic loss of innocent lives and children in Palestine due to the acts of violence attributed to Islam. The movie was skillfully filmed in monochrome by director Pontecorvo and cinematographer Marcello Gatti, two highly talented individuals who explored various methods to achieve a newsreel and documentary-like aesthetic, delivering an immersive and informative viewing experience. The authenticity of the scenes depicted in The Battle of Algiers is so remarkable that it raises doubts about their creation. They may have been defeated in the Battle of Algiers, but they emerged victorious in the broader context of the Algerian War, securing their independence from French colonial rule. The intensity of the atmosphere is palpable as Algerian women make their way down from the Casbah to carry out explosive acts in the French quarter of the city. When the bombs explode, one presumes they are genuine, and the devastation they leave behind is undeniably impactful. This film depicted how colonialism affected the everyday experiences of people. Towards the conclusion of the film, a notable spontaneous revolt erupts on the streets. The time passes swiftly, and we are able to witness the awe-inspiring roads, lanes, and staircases of the sorrowful pale structures due to the expert narration of the tale. The suffering endured by the insurgent detainees holds significant significance in relation to current global events. The French occupiers and their methods of torture can also be described as quite harsh.

[classicalmusicdaily]

Elliot Goldenthal, an American composer of modern classical music as well as cinema and theatre compositions, was born on May 2, 1954. He was a pupil of John Corigliano and Aaron Copland and is best renowned for his particular style and his ability to combine numerous musical genres and methods in novel and creative ways. In 2002, he received the Academy Award for Best Original Score for his music for the film Frida, directed by his longtime wife, Julie Taymor. Elliot Goldenthal Elliot, who was born in Brooklyn, New York, in 1954, started taking music lessons at a young age and became very interested in music. "I performed in little piano concerts, learned the piano and trumpet, and participated in neighbourhood bands. But I also performed a lot of jazz and rock, and as a young person around that time, I was involved with what was happening in those musical genres." These early influences are still very much a part of Elliot's work, as can be heard on the soundtracks of films like Titus and Batman Forever, even if he is now mostly known for his leanings toward Western art music. Education and Career: Goldenthal was raised by musical influences from different genres and cultures in Brooklyn, New York City, where he was born. From Bucharest and Iaşi, Romania, Goldenthal's grandparents came to the United States in both sets. Goldenthal resided in a place with a diverse population, and his works reflect this. He attended John Dewey High School in Brooklyn, where he premiered his first ballet, Variations on Early Glimpses, at age of 14. He proceeded to showcase his wide-ranging musical tastes by playing with rock bands in the 1970s. He then pursued full-time music studies at the esteemed Manhattan School of Music, where he studied under the mentorship of John Corigliano, a musician he greatly respected, and received degrees in both compositions (1977 and 1979). For the theatre, dance, concert venue, and cinema, Goldenthal has written pieces. Films like Pet Sematary, Alien 3, Michael Collins, Batman Forever, Heat, and the Academy Award-winning score for Julie Taymor's Frida, in which Goldenthal played a brief role as a "Newsreel Reporter," are among those that feature the music he has created. He also played a "Circus Barker/Streetsinger" in a minor role in the theatre production of Juan Darièn, incidentally. In order to prepare the music for Frida, erudite musician Elliot Goldenthal devoted more than a year studying the music of Mexico, Brazil, Cuba, and Spain. Additionally, he added to this film his own upbringing in New York, where he was exposed to Latin music. He sought for the best acoustic guitarists to perform his songs, and several of them were recorded in his New York home room. He had a Mexican woman in her 90s who had performed the same song for Frida Kahlo decades earlier sing an important song in the film. She is still in perfect voice. Grendel, a three-act opera that Goldenthal co-wrote with Taymor and was based on the same-named John Gardner novel, was finished in 2006. It was narrated from the viewpoint of the monster Grendel and related the tale of Beowulf. With Eric Owens playing Grendel, it had its world premiere at the Los Angeles Opera in early June 2006, in front of John Williams and Emmy Rossum. The opera was later added to the company's official repertory, and in April 2007 Goldenthal was nominated for the Pulitzer Prize for Music. Goldenthal collaborated once more with Michael Mann to soundtrack the 1930s gangster film Public Enemies, in 2008, and he did the same for The Tempest, another Julie Taymor Shakespeare adaption, in 2009. The distinctions between orchestral film soundtrack and classical stage music have gotten increasingly muddled, according to Goldenthal, which is how he believes they should be. He mentions Japanese musician Tru Takemitsu as an influence and someone he models his work after. Additionally, he has worked four times with Irish filmmaker Neil Jordan, including on In Dreams and Interview with the Vampire.

Working Style: Film music collectors have labelled Elliot Goldenthal the "thinking man's composer," and movie creators and fans of the genre typically choose his more intellectual works. He is renowned for his experiments, subtleties, and willingness to try out novel methods. He has composed music for movies in practically every category, including thriller, horror, and Shakespearean adaptations. Although he hasn't yet composed a comedy soundtrack, he has created comedic motifs for several movies, including Demolition Man and the Batman trilogy. He is well respected among fans and in the music and film industries for his diverse body of work. Although many people admire him for his musical prowess and particular style, some believe his work to be overly experimental or difficult to understand. He writes violent, atonal action music. He occasionally employs extremely quick French horn passages with bending tones and whining in the underscore. According to Goldenthal, "I either hear a melody or I hear sonority" rather than "hearing" atonal and tonal. On the website filmscoremonthly.com, a former classmate of Goldenthal remarked about a 1998 article on the Sphere score in which it was mentioned that Elliot was already experimenting with novel methods when he and Goldenthal were both students at the Manhattan School of Music in the 1970s. During a trumpet lesson, Elliott once instructed him to "buzz into the wrong end of the mouthpiece and sing into it as well." After listening to Goldenthal's film and concert music for almost ten years, he realized that he "was well ahead of the rest of us," despite initially thinking he was crazy.