"And God spoke all these words, saying..." Exodus 20:1.
It may come as something of a surprise to many people that the Hebrew Bible does not mention that God gave 10 commandments. Instead, the author of the Pentateuch notes that at a vital moment in the history of Israel, God spoke words, not commandments, to the infant nation. In Greek, the word Decalogue, most literally translated, means "ten words". It is from this word that Krysztof Kieslowski takes the title of his amazing, visionary film. It is a ten part film (each part being a little less than an hour), and each part tells an amazing story which relates to each of the 10 words. Lately, I have been consumed by the world of this brilliant filmmaker, so this blog may be dominated by his work for the next few entries. Bear with me, and think about checking out some of this man's work.
"The Decalogue" is not an instructional series, nor is it heavy handed moralism. Instead, it deals openly and honestly with some very difficult ethical dilemmas that relate to the moral underpinnings of the 10 words (what we call commandments). Take, for example, Decalogue 5. The fifth commandment is "You shall not murder." Here, Kieslowski gives us a horrible character who commits needless and cold blooded murder. But what Kieslowski does is make it a meditation on capital punishment. For anyone who has ever seen "Dead Man Walking", it seems as though Tim Robbins almost borrowed his story from this story. Whatever one thinks of Kieslowski's conclusions regarding capital punishment isn't the point. The point is that he is grappling with the serious issues that these important ethical benchmarks bring to our lives.
This is also the case on Decalogue 8. Here, Kieslowski brings a new view to the classic moral dilemma of whether or not you lie to the Germans during WW2 in order to save the life (or lives) of another (or others). Here, the person with the moral dilemma initially looks like a coward. The Jewish woman who has come to judge her learns that the situation was more complex than she realized.
Decalogue 2 is also riveting. It tells the story of a woman who discovers she is pregnant by her lover. Her husband has been unable to have children, so any pregnancy would prove her infidelity. The woman seeks the help of her husband's doctor to get a prognosis on her husband. If her husband lives, she plans to have an abortion. If he dies, she will have the child, since she has not had a chance to have children, and she wants a child. This would make for an absorbing story on its own, but the doctor has his own moral dilemma given the information he has. What he does and why he does it make for an amazing pay off.
Decalogue 1 is equal parts engrossing and heartbreaking. It challenges the idea of materialism and what we make of a world that is simply a material place that is subject to physical laws. Is everything really that predictable? Decalogue 1 tells a story in which a man who believes in the ultimate power of reason ends up having to put his belief to the ultimate test.
One thing that does appear connect these 10 films is the color red. I don't know that all 10 films have that striking color. However, since the drabness of Communist housing is the setting for these films, the color red stands out in these films, and it seems intentional to me. Could Kiewsloski be making a comment on the blood of Christ somehow affecting or covering the law as the people fail to keep it? I don't know, but I have a hunch that Kiewsloski would be open to that question.
It is difficult to write about one part without writing about all 10. All 10 parts are riveting. They each tell dramatic stories, and each are them are finely acted and realized. To make one of these films would have been an achievement, but to make 10 is truly remarkable. So many moral dilemmas are shown: abortion, voyeurism, fornication, adultery, capital punishment, greed, kidnapping, broken promises and lack of trust. These issues are all dealt with well, even when the position taken may not be one the viewer agrees with. It is a fine line to walk between belief in moral absolutes and realizing that absolute principles usually cannot be applied absolutely. If we absolutely say it is never ever right to lie, things are relatively simple. If we allow for the fact that some things are worth lying for, we realize that there are greater principles involved. The question that all of these films asks then becomes, how are these 10 commandments applied? My belief is that the answer lies in the heart...what motivations do we have and why are we doing what we are doing?
(It is worth noting at the outset that this series seems like a big time commitment, and it is. But, if that is a concern, be sure to note that each of these ten one hour films can stand on their own-one needn't watch all ten to appreciate one part.)
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Babe
"When those little mice bust a gut trying to drag that key up hundreds of stairs in order to free Cinderella, I don't care how many Kubrick pictures you've seen, it's still exciting."
-Roger Ebert
There is a moment at the end of Babe that reminds me of this quote every time I see the movie. Farmer Hoggett is watching his sheep-pig herd sheep in front of a stunned audience. As the sheep make their way around the arena toward the center pen, the audience sits in silence. As Babe the pig cajoles the last of the sheep into the pen, Farmer Hoggett walks over to the pen gate. As the gate slowly latches shut, the audience erupts into thunderous applause. I don't care what weighty topics I have seen in movies, or what death defying stunts I have seen, there are few moments in movies that are as exciting as this moment is for me.
It is a classic for the whole family. But what struck me when I first saw this movie on video some 16-17 years ago was how the stuffy critics simply loved it. It didn't take long after popping the video tape into the VCR to understand why. Here was a movie that clearly loved the story it had to tell, and loved the fact that it was pulling every heart string available. It follows the adventures of a runt pig who manages to avoid becoming bacon and make it to a farm. Once there, he must somehow convince the farmer to not use him for Christmas dinner. One of the reasons the movie works so well is the all of the animals in it are somewhat lovable, but there is a sort of Orwellian darkness to it as well, invoking Animal Farm and the proper place for each animal on the farm. Since pigs' purpose is to be eaten, the powers that be in the animal community look upon this gifted pig with suspicion.
But seriously, it's not as serious as all that. In the end, Famer Hoggett sees a possibility in the pig, and the pig becomes a sheep herder. This eventually leads to the climactic moment I mentioned above. But the movie would be just another story if it were not so well realized. The animals are so believable, and the colors and production design add texture to the story. Since we are never told a setting, there is something in the way the movie is visualized and photographed that always make the world it is in seem fantastic. It looks enough like our world to be see some reality, but it is fanciful enough for us to realize we are in a different place all togther.
Sometimes basic and innocent storytelling has a power that realism simply cannot bring. What a movie like this shows us is that cinema and its art has a wide variety to offer, from the serious and ponderous to the silly and childlike. That'll do....
-Roger Ebert
There is a moment at the end of Babe that reminds me of this quote every time I see the movie. Farmer Hoggett is watching his sheep-pig herd sheep in front of a stunned audience. As the sheep make their way around the arena toward the center pen, the audience sits in silence. As Babe the pig cajoles the last of the sheep into the pen, Farmer Hoggett walks over to the pen gate. As the gate slowly latches shut, the audience erupts into thunderous applause. I don't care what weighty topics I have seen in movies, or what death defying stunts I have seen, there are few moments in movies that are as exciting as this moment is for me.
It is a classic for the whole family. But what struck me when I first saw this movie on video some 16-17 years ago was how the stuffy critics simply loved it. It didn't take long after popping the video tape into the VCR to understand why. Here was a movie that clearly loved the story it had to tell, and loved the fact that it was pulling every heart string available. It follows the adventures of a runt pig who manages to avoid becoming bacon and make it to a farm. Once there, he must somehow convince the farmer to not use him for Christmas dinner. One of the reasons the movie works so well is the all of the animals in it are somewhat lovable, but there is a sort of Orwellian darkness to it as well, invoking Animal Farm and the proper place for each animal on the farm. Since pigs' purpose is to be eaten, the powers that be in the animal community look upon this gifted pig with suspicion.
But seriously, it's not as serious as all that. In the end, Famer Hoggett sees a possibility in the pig, and the pig becomes a sheep herder. This eventually leads to the climactic moment I mentioned above. But the movie would be just another story if it were not so well realized. The animals are so believable, and the colors and production design add texture to the story. Since we are never told a setting, there is something in the way the movie is visualized and photographed that always make the world it is in seem fantastic. It looks enough like our world to be see some reality, but it is fanciful enough for us to realize we are in a different place all togther.
Sometimes basic and innocent storytelling has a power that realism simply cannot bring. What a movie like this shows us is that cinema and its art has a wide variety to offer, from the serious and ponderous to the silly and childlike. That'll do....
Saturday, May 28, 2011
Winter's Bone
There's darkness, and then there's bleakness, and this movie has got plenty of both. This is a very absorbing story. There is no question that the performances and the realization of the story are both brilliant. It is enormously effective in creating a tone of dreary hopelessness. There is an impending sense of dread about the movie. So, it is very involving. At the same time, the sum does not quite equal its parts for me. I always felt concern for the characters, but they still seemed distant to me. Even though the protagonist (Ree) is dealing with life altering situations, somehow the movie maintained an air of a horror film, even though it is not a horror film. So, even though the story is very human, the story still seems distant. I cared about the characters, but in a very different way then usual. The care I have is best channeled through the children in the film. It is almost as though there is a doorway that Ree has passed through and the children haven't, and the innocence the children enjoy on their side of the door gives us hope. Meanwhile, Ree's insistence that the children stay innocent and protected make her heroic.
The story follows Ree, a 17 year old who has come to be all but the mother of her younger brother and sister. Her mother is mentally ill and out of commission, and her father has left them. He used his property to acquire a bail bond, so the family is now in danger of losing their home. Ree begins trying to find her father, but the more she looks. the more the local hierarchy of underworld drug lords begins pushing back. In the end, she is forced to continue her search simply in order to survive and take care of her siblings.
Jennifer Lawerence is so convincing in her role. This is a movie that easily could have descended into stereotypes, but it does not. Instead, it shows these people for who they are, warts and all. And yet I still can say I felt a certain disconnect in the movie. This movie takes place in my home country, yet it couldn't feel more foreign in many ways. Perhaps that is the power of the film. Even though I felt distance, I still appreciated the eventual hope that comes in the film. Again, I can appreciate the innocence of the little children in the film, as they play in the back yard, unaware of the nightmarish reality around them. That's quite a tribute to what makes this movie special.
The story follows Ree, a 17 year old who has come to be all but the mother of her younger brother and sister. Her mother is mentally ill and out of commission, and her father has left them. He used his property to acquire a bail bond, so the family is now in danger of losing their home. Ree begins trying to find her father, but the more she looks. the more the local hierarchy of underworld drug lords begins pushing back. In the end, she is forced to continue her search simply in order to survive and take care of her siblings.
Jennifer Lawerence is so convincing in her role. This is a movie that easily could have descended into stereotypes, but it does not. Instead, it shows these people for who they are, warts and all. And yet I still can say I felt a certain disconnect in the movie. This movie takes place in my home country, yet it couldn't feel more foreign in many ways. Perhaps that is the power of the film. Even though I felt distance, I still appreciated the eventual hope that comes in the film. Again, I can appreciate the innocence of the little children in the film, as they play in the back yard, unaware of the nightmarish reality around them. That's quite a tribute to what makes this movie special.
Monday, May 23, 2011
Fargo
"Where do you live?" "Minnesota." "OH YEAH YOU BETCHA"-Many conversations with folks over the years have ended up going like this. I think a lot of that comes from this movie.
This film has grown to be so storied and impersonated that I wonder if some have forgotten just how good it really is. People immediately go into the accent, and immediately think that those of us who live here had never considered that people here talk that way. Do people talk that way here? It depends. In the cities (what we call Minneapolis and St. Paul here), there is not a thick accent, for the most part. But longtime residents have it, and when one ventures outside the metro, one can hear a pretty thick accent on display.
When I saw the movie for the first time, it seemed that the Coen Brothers were making fun of the dialect. I doubt that. Instead, I think that they are using the dialect to create this world. This world only works if there is an overt folksiness to the people in the movie. Only in that world will the horror of the acts committed by the people in the movie be truly stark.
The film follows Jerry Lundegard's (William H. Macy) bumbling attempt to extort money from his father in law. He recklessly hires two thugs to kidnap his wife and then put a ransom on his wife. Jerry is then convinced that his father in law will cough up the money to the thugs who will in turn give him the money he needs to solve his financial woes. Unfortunately, things do not go smoothly, and when the thugs commit murder in Brainerd, MN, the town police chief Marge (Frances McDormand) is called onto the case.
The savagery of the crimes of the hired thugs is a contrast to everything else in the movie. Even the blood shed on the frozen tundra is stark, as the blood flows onto the white winter wasteland. But even more effective is the way the inhuman acts contrast to the simple human decency of Marge and her husband. Marge is 7 months pregnant (don't ya' know), and the love of her husband for her is part of the deep texture of this movie. The dialect of the film is part of the world, and therefore, not overdone. Of course there is exaggeration and caricature, but that is used in order to evoke more basic things about Minnesota. Also, the omnipresence of cold is on depicted. The cold in Minnesota affects every aspect of life, and this is on full display here.
It is a story told so well. As the Coens went on to glory years later with "No Country for Old Men", this film is left behind a bit. Every scene is brilliantly written and realized, and the longer I live in Minnesota, the more I appreciate what they did with it. Of course the accent is overdone, but isn't that what movies do?
This film has grown to be so storied and impersonated that I wonder if some have forgotten just how good it really is. People immediately go into the accent, and immediately think that those of us who live here had never considered that people here talk that way. Do people talk that way here? It depends. In the cities (what we call Minneapolis and St. Paul here), there is not a thick accent, for the most part. But longtime residents have it, and when one ventures outside the metro, one can hear a pretty thick accent on display.
When I saw the movie for the first time, it seemed that the Coen Brothers were making fun of the dialect. I doubt that. Instead, I think that they are using the dialect to create this world. This world only works if there is an overt folksiness to the people in the movie. Only in that world will the horror of the acts committed by the people in the movie be truly stark.
The film follows Jerry Lundegard's (William H. Macy) bumbling attempt to extort money from his father in law. He recklessly hires two thugs to kidnap his wife and then put a ransom on his wife. Jerry is then convinced that his father in law will cough up the money to the thugs who will in turn give him the money he needs to solve his financial woes. Unfortunately, things do not go smoothly, and when the thugs commit murder in Brainerd, MN, the town police chief Marge (Frances McDormand) is called onto the case.
The savagery of the crimes of the hired thugs is a contrast to everything else in the movie. Even the blood shed on the frozen tundra is stark, as the blood flows onto the white winter wasteland. But even more effective is the way the inhuman acts contrast to the simple human decency of Marge and her husband. Marge is 7 months pregnant (don't ya' know), and the love of her husband for her is part of the deep texture of this movie. The dialect of the film is part of the world, and therefore, not overdone. Of course there is exaggeration and caricature, but that is used in order to evoke more basic things about Minnesota. Also, the omnipresence of cold is on depicted. The cold in Minnesota affects every aspect of life, and this is on full display here.
It is a story told so well. As the Coens went on to glory years later with "No Country for Old Men", this film is left behind a bit. Every scene is brilliantly written and realized, and the longer I live in Minnesota, the more I appreciate what they did with it. Of course the accent is overdone, but isn't that what movies do?
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Blazing Saddles
I just watched this golden oldie again, and I had forgotten just how funny and how edgy it is. A couple of months back, I wrote about "Airplane", one of my favorite comedies. In some ways, "Blazing Saddles" is very much like "Airplane". Mel Brooks (the legendary director of this film) throws in a joke in this movie wherever, whenever and however he can. As I wrote about in "Airplane", some of the jokes are funny not because they are all that great, but just because Brooks and company just keep on trying.
But something separates this movie from "Airplane". "Airplane" has no agenda but to get laughs. This film has an agenda, and a good one. It's agenda is to take a serious look (while funny) at bigotry. Brooks' work is all about that. "The Producers" uses the Holocaust to get laughs at Hitler's expense. Brooks is attempting, in my opinion, to paralyze bigotry through reducing it to what it truly is. He shows it as stupid. But this movie also shows a simple joy of movie making and messing around with new ideas. The ending is so clever, with the 4th wall being broken down. But in the end, the commentary on racism is what makes this movie so funny and so true. The caricatures are wonderfully effective...the white trash racists are made to look like the idiots that they are by the debonair and urbane Bart. In the film, a greedy Attorney General appoints a black man as a sheriff of a small town of inbreeds so that that want to move out of their town and he can buy up the land to sell it to railroad developers. He ends up being helped by the Waco Kid (an amazing performance by Gene Wilder), a drunken gunman who matches Bart in decency.
This film is merciless in its stereotypes and racial jokes. I contend that this movie could not be made today. The use of the n-word in this film is rampant, and I think that it shows, in part, where we have been over the last 30 years. This word has evolved into being even more vulgar than it was when I was a child. The offensiveness of this word has reached the point that I don't know if it could still be used in a joking context as it is in this film. I think that is a good thing...but I also have to say that there is a certain power to seeing Brooks expose the stupidity of racism through this word. Those who use it mainly fall into two categories: the first group are the bad guys who are beyond repair. But the second group are the townspeople who come to accept this man for who he is, even though they are backward in their racism and stereotypes.
This is the kind of movie that really could only be made in America. Only in a melting pot such as ours where we are forced to deal with people of other races and creed could such a movie be made. Be prepared to laugh, and to be offended.
But something separates this movie from "Airplane". "Airplane" has no agenda but to get laughs. This film has an agenda, and a good one. It's agenda is to take a serious look (while funny) at bigotry. Brooks' work is all about that. "The Producers" uses the Holocaust to get laughs at Hitler's expense. Brooks is attempting, in my opinion, to paralyze bigotry through reducing it to what it truly is. He shows it as stupid. But this movie also shows a simple joy of movie making and messing around with new ideas. The ending is so clever, with the 4th wall being broken down. But in the end, the commentary on racism is what makes this movie so funny and so true. The caricatures are wonderfully effective...the white trash racists are made to look like the idiots that they are by the debonair and urbane Bart. In the film, a greedy Attorney General appoints a black man as a sheriff of a small town of inbreeds so that that want to move out of their town and he can buy up the land to sell it to railroad developers. He ends up being helped by the Waco Kid (an amazing performance by Gene Wilder), a drunken gunman who matches Bart in decency.
This film is merciless in its stereotypes and racial jokes. I contend that this movie could not be made today. The use of the n-word in this film is rampant, and I think that it shows, in part, where we have been over the last 30 years. This word has evolved into being even more vulgar than it was when I was a child. The offensiveness of this word has reached the point that I don't know if it could still be used in a joking context as it is in this film. I think that is a good thing...but I also have to say that there is a certain power to seeing Brooks expose the stupidity of racism through this word. Those who use it mainly fall into two categories: the first group are the bad guys who are beyond repair. But the second group are the townspeople who come to accept this man for who he is, even though they are backward in their racism and stereotypes.
This is the kind of movie that really could only be made in America. Only in a melting pot such as ours where we are forced to deal with people of other races and creed could such a movie be made. Be prepared to laugh, and to be offended.
Friday, May 13, 2011
Never Let Me Go
I have not read the novel upon which this film is based, but my wife tells me that this film captures the spirit of the novel very well. If that is true, I may want to ready myself emotionally for reading the novel, because the film is a handful. I seldom have seen a movie where a particular mood is so well captured in a film. Here the mood that is captured is hopelessness and resignation. However, within that hopelessness, hope still resides, and it gives the viewer something to think about in terms of how we must seize opportunities in our own lives, since life is a gift, and life is short.
The film imagines a world parallel to ours wherein cloning was perfected in the 1950's. In the present day, there is an entire race of clones that is being created and raised to harvest their vital organs in order that "originals" (human non-clones) might survive disease. All of these clones know their destiny, and they accept it. The film primarily follows three clones (played by Andrew Garfield, Keira Knightley and Carrie Mulligan) and their short journey through life. The film does not grapple with the ethics of the situation, though there is one human who sees their desperate desire to live a few years for love and proclaims, "You poor creatures." Instead, the film pulls back, shows us the narrative, and allows us to ponder the implications of that world. Many different ethical questions can arise from this film: cloning itself, stem cell research, class struggle, and abortion. The film speaks directly to none of these. What makes the film brilliant is its ability to tell its story without excessive moralizing. It is clear that what is going on the film is not a desirable world, yet the situation is shown with such veracity that it does seem possible.
In the end, we are forced to look into the eyes of these creatures and ask ourselves to identify with them. Their lives are short, but in the grand scheme of things, none of us live long lives, and few of us are ready to die. That is why what is being done to this people is tragic. Life is short enough without it being deliberately and coldly taken from you. On the other hand, will we as humans ever be able to accept the reality of death and not cling to life so tightly that we sacrifice innocent lives in order to extend our own short life spans? These questions naturally arise...and the effect is tremendous.
The film imagines a world parallel to ours wherein cloning was perfected in the 1950's. In the present day, there is an entire race of clones that is being created and raised to harvest their vital organs in order that "originals" (human non-clones) might survive disease. All of these clones know their destiny, and they accept it. The film primarily follows three clones (played by Andrew Garfield, Keira Knightley and Carrie Mulligan) and their short journey through life. The film does not grapple with the ethics of the situation, though there is one human who sees their desperate desire to live a few years for love and proclaims, "You poor creatures." Instead, the film pulls back, shows us the narrative, and allows us to ponder the implications of that world. Many different ethical questions can arise from this film: cloning itself, stem cell research, class struggle, and abortion. The film speaks directly to none of these. What makes the film brilliant is its ability to tell its story without excessive moralizing. It is clear that what is going on the film is not a desirable world, yet the situation is shown with such veracity that it does seem possible.
In the end, we are forced to look into the eyes of these creatures and ask ourselves to identify with them. Their lives are short, but in the grand scheme of things, none of us live long lives, and few of us are ready to die. That is why what is being done to this people is tragic. Life is short enough without it being deliberately and coldly taken from you. On the other hand, will we as humans ever be able to accept the reality of death and not cling to life so tightly that we sacrifice innocent lives in order to extend our own short life spans? These questions naturally arise...and the effect is tremendous.
Monday, May 9, 2011
Bottlerocket
Watching "Bottle Rocket" is like finding the headwaters of the Mississippi-you know that something great will come out of this source, yet you know that you are only at the source, and not at the river. This movie has so much of what its director Wes Anderson would later perfect in "Rushmore" and (in my opinion) most effectively capture in "Royal Tennenbaums". What is it about Anderson's films that make him my favorite current director? A number of things come to mind, all of them on display in this movie, but are perfected later.
First, there is the attention to detail. There is a scene wherein Owen Wilson's character shows his partners in crime a map of the heist they are going to pull. The map is exquisite in its detail. It seems odd that a minor prop for this film would be so intricate. Welcome to Wes Anderson's world. This only becomes more apparent in "Rushmore", in which the protagonist is himself a director of plays. I can't help but think that the attention to detail that Max has toward his plays in Rushmore are a mirror image of Anderson himself.
Second, there is the self importance of the characters. There is a certain tone to a character in a Wes Anderson film that is hard to quantify, but it's always there. Here, this small time heist seems to be a life changing event to Owen Wilson's character, while Luke Wilson and the other accomplices seem to be along for the ride. That prima donna quality is shared by Anderson's protagonists (as well as other characters). With this comes passion and misplaced anger at times, which both lead to humor.
Third, there is always a sense that one is watching something very personal. In some ways, when one watches a Wes Anderson film, one feels as though they are watching a home movie. This is best on display here in "Bottlerocket", since so many of the actors really are family and friends (all of the Wilson brothers are in this movie, as well as friends of the Andersons). Many directors over the years have used the same actors over and over again, but I don't think any director has been this personal with using them. Even as Anderson began to be a more successful director and his casts became more star studded, the familial element still seems to be there.
Many people praised "Bottlerocket" to no end. I like it, but I feel that Anderson really came of age with "Rushmore" and perfected his work with "Royal Tennebaums." But the sleeping giant is fully on display here in this film. All of the angst, innocence, wonder, great soundtracks and closing slow motion shots we come to expect from this extraordinary filmmaker are here for the taking.
First, there is the attention to detail. There is a scene wherein Owen Wilson's character shows his partners in crime a map of the heist they are going to pull. The map is exquisite in its detail. It seems odd that a minor prop for this film would be so intricate. Welcome to Wes Anderson's world. This only becomes more apparent in "Rushmore", in which the protagonist is himself a director of plays. I can't help but think that the attention to detail that Max has toward his plays in Rushmore are a mirror image of Anderson himself.
Second, there is the self importance of the characters. There is a certain tone to a character in a Wes Anderson film that is hard to quantify, but it's always there. Here, this small time heist seems to be a life changing event to Owen Wilson's character, while Luke Wilson and the other accomplices seem to be along for the ride. That prima donna quality is shared by Anderson's protagonists (as well as other characters). With this comes passion and misplaced anger at times, which both lead to humor.
Third, there is always a sense that one is watching something very personal. In some ways, when one watches a Wes Anderson film, one feels as though they are watching a home movie. This is best on display here in "Bottlerocket", since so many of the actors really are family and friends (all of the Wilson brothers are in this movie, as well as friends of the Andersons). Many directors over the years have used the same actors over and over again, but I don't think any director has been this personal with using them. Even as Anderson began to be a more successful director and his casts became more star studded, the familial element still seems to be there.
Many people praised "Bottlerocket" to no end. I like it, but I feel that Anderson really came of age with "Rushmore" and perfected his work with "Royal Tennebaums." But the sleeping giant is fully on display here in this film. All of the angst, innocence, wonder, great soundtracks and closing slow motion shots we come to expect from this extraordinary filmmaker are here for the taking.
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