Profile Armond-White
Armond-White´s Profile
-
Armond White

 

Latest Blog Posts
NY comPRESSed
Jun
26

ARMOND WHITE on Michael Jackson's Legacy

Armond White -
Armond White spoke about Michael Jackson during this On Camera Program, "Pop Video Artists and Hollywood Influence" Jan. 18, 2008. In part 1 of the video clip of White speaking, which really gets started around the 3:35 mark, he focuses on Jackson's "era-defining movements." See part 1 below, and click here for part 2.

This post has additional content, click on the permalink to read more.



Read more

Posted In: Music, Film And TV, Opinion, Culture, Entertainment at 03:12 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)
 
ON SCREEN
Sep
12

Righteous Kill: De Niro and Pacino Gang Up for a Minor Movie

Armond White

Robert De Niro and Al Pacino are art heroes. In great, good and poor films, they stay moral, political, creative. Moviegoers are still drawn to them—and so to their trashy new movie Righteous Kill—because we trust these actors to dramatize ethical dilemma, familiar nerve and recognizable moral struggle such as both embodied in the Godfather films. The Godfather trilogy is a movie landmark tantamount to cultural mythology. (Shame on Film Forum’s soon-to-come Godfather revival leaving out Part III, which is crucial to completing the Corleone Family’s agon. It’s like amputating a segment of Aeschylus’ The Oresteia.)

In those movies, both Pacino and De Niro played memorable figures of corrupted virtue and deep sorrow. The young Don Corelone and self-destructive Michael embodied universal desires yet fell short in deeply identifiable ways. Some of that tragedy animates the heart of Righteous Kill. It’s a cop drama where De Niro and Pacino—as Turk and Rooster—play homicide detectives hunting a serial killer who “cleans up” the messes they’ve investigated by executing likely suspects.

Righteous Kill questions vigilantism but it also gives De Niro and Pacino the chance to explore the thinking and feeling of men who see sin everyday yet struggle with the proper response (They’re modern versions of Travis Bickle’s “God’s lonely man”). The opening sequence of Turk and Rooster displaying their perfect gun skills illustrates the human capacity for exacting absolute justice.

There’s such rich suggestiveness in Righteous Kill (it’s structured around De Niro giving an outrageous videotape confession that would make him the Hannibal Lecter of movie cops) that one waits patiently for the moral issues to be properly resolved. They aren’t. Plot development doesn’t suffice moral satisfaction. Turk and Rooster give us a wild goose chase. Avnet simply doesn’t know how to create credible urban flavor (which ultra-hack Ridley Scott cheapened in American Gangster). Our thoughts about law, order and human weakness aren’t enthralling as in The Godfather films. It’s merely a relief that Avnet skirts the fancy, rotten escapism of Michael Mann’s Heat.

In place of credibly exploring social and personal decadence, Righteous Kill offers two faces: De Niro and Pacino, now broad-jawed, wrinkled, weary-eyed and thickened. Both look like average middle-aged men. The life of the city is imprinted on their faces and in the pragmatic, not cynical, attitudes that Turk and Rooster bring to their jobs. De Niro and Pacino maintain the gift of soulful expression. De Niro’s minimal and true while Pacino taps emotional extravagance like a Frankie Valli operatic high note. These are rare qualities. Harry Belafonte has one of those faces, so did Ossie Davis, Ivan Dixon and sometimes Nick Nolte—few others. To see heroic faces reflect human dilemma is worth tolerating even a minor movie. 

Righteous Kill should have been titled “Dark Knights of the Soul.” It corrects the dismal, life-denying cynicism in Christopher Nolan’s The Dark Knight by showing how Turk and Rooster move in the recognizable world, struggling to stay human and loyal—not fantastical. Not just a team, they share guilt and understanding. This adult camaraderie rouses feelings that Nolan missed—as did Scorsese’s Americanized (ruined) The Departed. Even Jet Li and Jason Statham’s rivalry in War had more complexity and depth—the closest a recent movie has come to the partnership dilemmas that were Sam Peckinpah’s specialty. Righteous Kill is an exhibition of missed opportunities, yet this summit meeting of De Niro and Pacino poses an opportunity no genuine movie lover would miss.



Read more

Posted In: Film And TV at 07:00 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)
 
ON SCREEN
Aug
22

The House Bunny: Anna Faris unfolds her talent with a sexy rompâeuro;”but she deserves better

Armond White

 Faris might be the funniest American comic actress since Goldie Hawn. She’s almost an underground treasure—enjoyed by fans of the Scary Movie franchise where she’s simultaneously silly and touching. Faris’ new film, The House Bunny, is her first mainstream showcase, but it comes after Gregg Araki’s Smiley Face, an endearing film that got lost amidst last year’s awards hustle, yet is the peak of Faris’ career—so far.

In The House Bunny, Faris plays Shelly, an intellectually dim young woman already living at Hugh Hefner’s Playboy Mansion but who dreams of being a Playboy centerfold. When Shelly’s kicked out of the Playboy Mansion, she’s shaken out of the fairytale/whoreytale delusions that have affected young women in the post-Madonna era. The film’s gimmick makes her the housemother at a sorority of losers. Shelly’s heart, and the awkward girls’ neediness, push her into comic self-realization. But this isn’t merely about Shelly’s dawning feminism; rather than doing a 21st-century version of Gloria Steinem’s famous Bunny-waitress stunt, it follows the Legally Blonde formula of showing how modern young women innocently accept society’s sexual roles and yet struggle to assert their humanity and individuality.

The House Bunny is low comedy (pratfalls and tit jokes) produced by Adam Sandler’s Happy Madison company, which means it prizes gags and significance equally. But Faris has the ability to balance innocent dopiness with genuine feeling giving Shelly’s post-Steinem, post-Madonna conundrum the proper foundation. The House Bunny doesn’t answer Shelly’s fairytale dreaming: It asks, How Does A Girl Maneuver Sexual Identity? When Shelly teaches the insecure, unfashionable twerps how to attract men, she isn’t merely offering counsel. She dangerously indoctrinates them into the sexpot fallacies that have victimized her own consciousness.
This slight comedy is on to something important, and Faris makes its message easy to take. Yes, she recalls Goldie Hawn’s skill, but Faris specifically revives Betty Hutton’s goofy sincerity, as when Shelly responds to the news that her 27th birthday makes her too old for the Playboy Mansion: Told “That’s 59 in bunny years,” Shelly reasons: “It’s like I’m still 26 or 58.”

Faris’ way with a disoriented thought is to stare at it in mid-air, thinking through to its common understanding. She makes the slow-burn poignant. Even when flipping over tables or wincing from leg burns after imitating Marilyn Monroe’s subway grate pose in The Seven Year Itch, she shows the trenchant price that women pay when trying to live up to our culture’s sexual ideal.

The House Bunny doesn’t take this as far as Gregg Araki did. Smiley Face was an extraordinary exploration of social change (revolution) apparent Faris’ marijuana-stoned heroine became the guardian of the Communist Manifesto—a document whose most humane principles are no longer known, or valued, in contemporary society. Similarly, the girls in The House Bunny only pursue sex appeal (“I’m naked in the center of a magazine. Unfold me!”) Faris lampoons the difficulty of self-realization.

In a perfect Hollywood, The House Bunny would have been directed by Joseph Kahn. Kahn directed the music video for The Pussycat Dolls’ “When I Grow Up,” which is heard in the movie; yet nothing in this film matches the delirium of Kahn’s flesh fair or The Pussycat Dolls’ celebration of female ambition—a sexual self-exploitation so extreme it carries its own irony. Shelly’s ambition is reflected in the pop soundtrack that credibly links The Ting Tings, Avril Lavigne and Rhianna to Langston Hughes, Baldwin and Chekhov. But The House Bunny stays simplistic just like Legally Blonde. Anna Faris deserves better.


Read more

Posted In: Film And TV at 07:00 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)
 
ON SCREEN
Aug
18

\'Never Apologize: A Personal Visit With Lindsay Anderson\' at Lincoln Center

Armond White
Lindsay Anderson was first a film critic and always a film critic. Even when he directed the fiction films This Sporting Life, If, O Lucky Man and The Whales of August, he displayed an awareness of film as both art and social statement. That’s the significance of the Film Society of Lincoln Center’s current Anderson retrospective through Aug. 21. It features the theatrical premiere of Never Apologize, a bio-doc in which actor Malcolm McDowell reads the British director’s journals and reminiscences.

Anderson had introduced McDowell in the 1969 movie If—a film about youth rebellion—where Anderson employed rhetorical fantasy to exercise his social consciousness in time to the era’s social unrest. Anderson’s career showed an attempt to balance political observation with artistic expression. He always had a critic’s tenacity. McDowell narrates Anderson’s life through personal anecdotes and accounts of film and theater productions that made an impact on British pop culture. All that, despite Anderson’s infamous irascible temperament. The point is, the work matters and the man must be understood—perhaps even excused—because of the quality of the work.

Never Apologize’s director, Mike Kaplan, records the one-man stage Anderson showcase that McDowell performed in Los Angeles and expands it with revealing film footage that links Anderson’s cinema legacy. Frankly, nothing in Anderson’s career reaches the magnificent level of Robert Altman’s Short Cuts (Kaplan previously directed the valuable making-of Short Cuts documentary Luck, Trust and Ketchup: Altman in Carver Country). But Kaplan conveys Anderson’s significance while honoring the intransigent critic-auteur.

Lincoln Center also features Anderson’s films along with movies he admired in his first profession as a film critic in the series “Lindsay Anderson: Revolutionary Romantic,” including such as John Ford’s They Were Expendable. Interesting that Anderson revered the least romantic Ford film. His own best film was the 1963 This Sporting Life where a critique of England’s class system was inseparable from the fierce physical urgency of Richard Harris and Rachel Roberts’ working class characterizations. (That film suggests that Kazan meant as much to Anderson as Ford.)

I find the celebrated O Lucky Man (McDowell’s biggest role after Kubrick’s A Clockwork Orange) to be an over-obvious slog, but Anderson’s critical virtues shone in his earlier film the 1957 London documentary, Every Day Except Christmas, one of the best movies ever made about labor, culture and human habit. These are a critic’s concerns; they still challenge the commercial film industry. And as McDowell demonstrates (even in funny, gossipy asides), disagreeable Anderson kept to his principles.

Every Day Except Christmas memorably concludes its consideration of Coventry Garden market workers with Anderson’s own tribute: “Young faces follow old, and old ways will change to new one of these days. But work will still be with us one way or another. And we all depend on each other’s work as well as our own. On Alice and George and Bill and Alan and Sid and all the others who keep us going.” A critic and filmmaker who knows the way the world works is a rare thing. It’s no wonder when McDowell reveals Anderson pronouncement of his own, still critical, epitaph:  “Surrounded by fools. As usual.”

Never Apologize: A Personal Visit With Lindsay Anderson
Directed by Mike Kaplan
at Walter Reade Theatre
Through Aug. 21



Read more

Posted In: Film And TV at 07:00 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)
 
My Galleries
 
No galleries found.
 


  • Sun
    8
  • Mon
    9
  • Tue
    10
  • Wed
    11
  • Thu
    12
  • Fri
    13
  • Sat
    14

Search in Events

Sign up for the NYPress
e-newsletter for weekly updates
and exciting event info:





Join us on Facebook Follow Us
on Twitter








 User Profile (click to open)



New_York_300_60.gif

 
 
Close
Close