The nostalgia and dreams of today (Film/Music Reviews)

This review is tinted with themes that explore both the impulse for nostalgia and the excitement for growth, in other words, the fat of our minds to be burned off and toned by the demands of reality. Enjoy!
Movies
Mulholland Drive (2001), David Lynch
This was the first David Lynch movie I’ve seen, and I was hooked. Honestly, just — masterful. The entire movie feels eerie and you’re not sure why. In one sense, the constant tension hanging over each scene gives respect to the melodrama of a young, naïve girl’s fears and uncertainties, despite the context. Near the end of the film, though, we realize what exactly we had been watching this whole time. Everything makes sense — the mood, self-contained scenes, unclear direction. Basically, the film is the ultimate fantasy (ahem) of a failed actress, just moments before her death. Elements of reality ebb in and out of the images; the screen is a representation of the contents of her unconscious, from her deepest desires to the random people and objects in her everyday life. It’s near distressing to watch (what ends up being) an impossible situation play out on screen, as Diane’s fantasy contrasts so sharply with her reality that it makes her ideas ludicrous yet almost sacred. Lynch grasps a universal feeling of this disjunction through the lens of her Hollywood idealism, which hits home just as strongly as many other topics could.
Baby Driver (2017), Edgar Wright
I discovered Varsity Theaters on Franklin St, and since movies were $4 each, I decided to pop in for an evening screening. I hadn’t been to the theatre in a while, so I was really prepared to love the movie. I didn’t. It was stylish, sure, as an action movie. I really enjoyed the opening sequence, but after a while, one-liners, dancing by yourself to music, and wearing sunglasses gets kind of old, even if it’s wrapped in fast-paced editing and neon lighting. It was just so empty, but perhaps I should know by now that this is not the genre I’m looking for. The film was attempting to be self-aware of its pastiche elements (distressed boy, beautiful girl from the diner, crime boss, expensive cars, allure of danger, etc.), but it didn’t do anything new with it other than weave in music as a central motif. I just didn’t get the movie, the positive reviews, or the hype. Maybe I just didn’t understand enough of the cinematic references that supposedly made it some postmodern indulgence in form.
Lo and Behold (2016), Werner Herzog
Documentaries like this remind me of how much is going on in any given moment; I’m left admiring how a film itself can connect ideas that span such a wide imaginative range, just as technology does for human society. This film is a series of interviews organized in sections that cover various angles for thinking about the internet: its scientific origins, forms of interconnectivity, internet bullying, life without it, cybersecurity, hacking, etc. Herzog interviews people ranging from optimistic robotics students to those living in a forest with radioactive sickness, nuancing the interaction between human and technology. Near the end of the film, we learn that another solar flare is bound to happen, one large enough to disrupt connectivity and the information fabric of the Earth. He expresses anxiety with the trend towards the “internet of things,” in which more of our basic life functions become dependent on the internet. With his interviews with video game addicts, Herzog explores the fragility of the human psyche; with cosmologists, that of the planet; and with hackers, internet security. Herzog ends with a strategically edited, not-so-subtle, interview with Elon Musk, randomly inserting him saying “I don’t seem to remember the good dreams, the one I remember are the nightmares,” after Musk’s positivistic interview. Herzog shows how many different components represent our identity digitally, and the line between physical and digital life becomes blurred. He plays with the wonder and optimism humans feel about technology and how normalized it can quickly become, how what once was revolutionary becomes prehistory in the matter of years. In a sense, this questions the impulse of excitement in the face of the unknown — is it the actual material reality or the imaginative realm of possibility that excites us?
Music
Lust for Life (2017), Lana del Rey
Lana Del Rey has always sung about drugs, dangerous men, California, and her self-image. She’s been criticized for dismissing feminism, for the limited scope of her emotional concern. It’s tragic, to hear her go on and on about how cool guys with cars and style are, how beautiful she is when she cries. You want her to get over it, but the drama of her songs communicate the inescapability from her fixation, generating both self-loathing and dignity within this situation. The New Yorker wrote a good piece that references John Berger’s book Ways of Seeing in analyzing how Lana Del Rey recognizes how her identity is inextricably tied to an image constructed by others; her insistent and shameless attachment to gendered romanticism reveals an artistry that seems more genuine than subversive. This fixation extends to her patriotism, the blind devotion to a nation, which this album begins to challenge just as she does with her perspective on love. There’s a looming drama to her voice and the production; if I’m listening in the dark in my bed, I feel not only enchanted, but also afraid, haunted.
Favorites: In My Feelings, 13 Beaches, White Mustang, Groupie Love
Post (1995), Bjork
Bjork is offbeat and disorienting. You have to be in a certain type of mood to listen through her. Supposedly, I am in such mood this week. The music commands your attention and makes sure to communicate distinct, carefully arranged feelings. I was happy to receive Bjork’s optimism and excitement for life, her unapologetic lyrics; at one point she’s singing about being so lonely that she’s missing someone she’s never met. The album starts off with “Army of Me,” a metallic-y song basically telling you to stop complaining or you’ll face an army of Bjorks about to whip you in shape — life is difficult, get over it and get to work. Then, in “Hyperballad,” she wonders what might happen if she acted on her destructive impulses, the responsibility of love in her relationship preventing her from doing so. Of course, “It’s Oh So Quiet” is a favorite — to hear her scream and dance on the streets, expressing the craziness of love in the midst of her otherwise quiet (“Shhhh, Shhhh”) life makes her seem absolutely insane, which I love. Then, “Enjoy” gives me a kind of horrifying feeling, as she shamelessly sings about only wanting love to enjoy and stay in a stage of simplicity, while industrial sounding beats charge in the background. I found her voice soothing in “You’ve Been Flirting Again,” her reassuring words repeating: “all that she said was true, all that she meant was good, how you reacted was right, give her some space and some time.” Yes, Bjork, please be correct; I find myself nodding to her in hope and desperation. Just kidding. In “Isobel,” Bjork channels inspiration from magical realism, and I’m reminded of the wonder I felt when visiting Park Guell in Barcelona. It’s like her art materializes a fantasy I wish I had at the time. It’s exciting to see so much influence her field of vision.
Favorites: It’s Oh So Quiet, Hyperballad, Possibly Maybe, Isobel
Blonde (2016), Frank Ocean
I feel hesitant to say much in fear of being reductive, but I enjoyed the variety of sounds in the album and it reminded me of similar reasons that I liked Awaken, My Love. For example, when “White Ferrari” transitions from ethereal sounds to simple guitar, interrupted with some industrial sound here and there, I feel such a specific, stunted emotion. Same with “Nights,” so I guess I appreciated when some songs build in tension and intensity, then gives you something different. I used to be obsessed with James Blake, so I wasn’t so surprised that he co-produced “Solo” and I liked its minimalism. I’ll have to listen to the album a couple more times.
Favorite songs: Nikes, Self Control (!!!), Skyline To, Solo / Solo(Reprise) (!!), White Ferrari, Nights
