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Film review: Syriana (2005)
Too often I sit in front of a flickering screen and wonder why the hell I’m doing this to myself. Why am I allowing crass manipulation and dumbed-down narratives to saturate my brain? The Hollywood machine makes me forget all too easily that it’s possible to watch a movie without feeling talked-down to. One such is Syriana.
The movie’s confusing plotline has gotten a lot of press, but in this case the confusion does not come from poor writing or directing but a deliberate effort to match the situation being portrayed. This is a case of form following content in a seamless, successful, disturbing film experience. Film is by nature manipulative, but how refreshing to have that manipulation underscored by hand drumming instead of orchestral swells, choppy cuts to dimly lit ambiguous figures instead of teary-eyed close ups of unnaturally attractive people.
The film opens with a silent montage, accompanied by low-key music, of workers in a Middle Eastern location. Their obvious degradation sets the tone for one of the threads running through this tapestry of a film. Soon we are introduced to so many facets of influence in the area that we cannot keep track of the motives involved, which include: oil, government, economics, capitalism, Islam, militancy, class, poverty, ego, terrorism, the CIA, political spin, family, wealth and privilege, and allegiance, among others. The film, in other words, is nearly as complex as the real situation it explores. But it gives it a human face.
The human faces don’t do too bad, here. The script is tight, and while long, it is full of intricacies that link the stories together. The camerawork is loose and documentary-like, not afraid to not light the scene. When it’s dark, strangely enough, it’s hard to see. Likewise the soundtrack makes use of silence to great effect, and the score (a mix of orchestra, hand drums and some electronic influences) is subtle and effective without being overbearing. George Clooney is fat, millions of venerable actors make cameos, Siddig El Fadil (Deep Space Nine, A Dangerous Man) is finally used again, and in general there are far too many well known actors here for the film to be this good. The only performance which reminded me I was watching a movie was Amanda Peet’s.
There is no way to step back from the situation in this part of the world and understand it. One is left either with a feeling of intense confusion and helplessness or dismisses the problem with a too-simple “what’s all the fuss about?” In Syriana we are privy to the way these motivations and figures and factors all play off on another in an unending carousel of corruption, money, and influence. There is no answer, it seems to tell us; the threads are too tangled. It’s a disturbing movie, a dark movie, and one of the only films I’ve seen recently that reminds me that I can expect intelligence from my entertainment.
The movie’s confusing plotline has gotten a lot of press, but in this case the confusion does not come from poor writing or directing but a deliberate effort to match the situation being portrayed. This is a case of form following content in a seamless, successful, disturbing film experience. Film is by nature manipulative, but how refreshing to have that manipulation underscored by hand drumming instead of orchestral swells, choppy cuts to dimly lit ambiguous figures instead of teary-eyed close ups of unnaturally attractive people.
The film opens with a silent montage, accompanied by low-key music, of workers in a Middle Eastern location. Their obvious degradation sets the tone for one of the threads running through this tapestry of a film. Soon we are introduced to so many facets of influence in the area that we cannot keep track of the motives involved, which include: oil, government, economics, capitalism, Islam, militancy, class, poverty, ego, terrorism, the CIA, political spin, family, wealth and privilege, and allegiance, among others. The film, in other words, is nearly as complex as the real situation it explores. But it gives it a human face.
The human faces don’t do too bad, here. The script is tight, and while long, it is full of intricacies that link the stories together. The camerawork is loose and documentary-like, not afraid to not light the scene. When it’s dark, strangely enough, it’s hard to see. Likewise the soundtrack makes use of silence to great effect, and the score (a mix of orchestra, hand drums and some electronic influences) is subtle and effective without being overbearing. George Clooney is fat, millions of venerable actors make cameos, Siddig El Fadil (Deep Space Nine, A Dangerous Man) is finally used again, and in general there are far too many well known actors here for the film to be this good. The only performance which reminded me I was watching a movie was Amanda Peet’s.
There is no way to step back from the situation in this part of the world and understand it. One is left either with a feeling of intense confusion and helplessness or dismisses the problem with a too-simple “what’s all the fuss about?” In Syriana we are privy to the way these motivations and figures and factors all play off on another in an unending carousel of corruption, money, and influence. There is no answer, it seems to tell us; the threads are too tangled. It’s a disturbing movie, a dark movie, and one of the only films I’ve seen recently that reminds me that I can expect intelligence from my entertainment.
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But in a loveable way. I would gladly trade snail addys with you. My handwriting's nothing to uh.. write home about. I've taken to writing in all caps when I want to be specially understood (at work, etc). I won't do that to you, though.
I call it being "charmingly adorable"
But in a loveable way.
I could totally put that in my user profile.
Wow! I'm "charmingly adorable" too!