Picnic or Fink?

For me, both of these movies were intriguing (and ultimately irritating) because of the multitude of possible interpretations, no single one of which was very compelling or satisfying (I am still open to a hard sell). I mean, I appreciate that movies can be lifelike in that there is no ultimate, coherent explanation, but it seems to me that a piece of art should have a very strong vision behind it — the artist should know what she's about (that, to me, is the difference between Masterpiece Theater and Reality TV)— and if the vision is that this thing is "unknowable" or "incomprehensible," then I think that is perfectly fine but the artist shouldn't really dangle a bunch of competing visions in the mix.

"Fink" struck me as a deliberately insoluble mystery that gave you the illusion of almost making sense, if you could just find the key, but as with "Picnic at Hanging Rock," I suspect there is no key.

"Exotica," by contrast, was a mystery to me in the end, but not one that seemed essentially insoluble or troubling, maybe because I found the message of compassion and empathy at the end so profound that I didn't feel like I was being teased to find a lost key to all the clues.

What do you think?

Places as faces

We talked about how the landscape in "Picnic at Hanging Rock" figured so largely in the film that it could almost be thought of as a character. Landscape was prominent in "The Last Picture Show," too (as a way of explaining character), and in "True Grit" (for character and sheer prettiness). In "Exotica," I think landscape was less important, but we still had the sweeping vistas where the search party roamed. Do you have any favorite movies where landscape played a memorable role? For me, "Out of Africa" and "Babette's Feast" and "Wuthering Heights" come to mind. (And, for Erin's sake, let's not forget "Alive").

The Movie not Chosen

I noticed on Filmaffinity that cl had given a lukewarm rating to “The Sweet Hereafter”. I think almost as highly of that movie as I do of “Exotica”, and I almost chose it for my pick. (But I’m glad now to have done “Exotica” instead.) So Christy, I was wondering if you might have anything to say about your reaction to “The Sweet Hereafter”. You said that you didn’t know until recently that both these films were from the same director? Does knowing that make a difference? Or just more generally, how do you think the two movies compare?

Since “The Sweet Hereafter” wasn’t the club film, perhaps we should note any spoilers in the comments.

Substitutions

I had thought about the idea of some characters using others as substitutions, and then I ran across this observation in an IMDB review. It's an interesting theme for the film.

Exotica focuses on the substitutes used by its central characters. Francis substitutes Christina for his daughter and Tracey for Christina (when she was his daughter's babysitter). Eric substitutes his club DJ job for the career he wanted in radio, he substitutes his voyeurism in the club for his inability to have a lasting relationship. Zoe substitutes for her dead mother and continues to run the club, instead of a husband she has Eric contractually substitute so that she can have a baby. Thomas substitutes his opera liaisons for a real relationship and substitutes an incubator for the eggs he has taken from a nest. Christina substitutes a protective Francis for her uncaring and probably abusive father. Voyeurism substitutes for interaction.

A different kind of murder mystery

NM says in an earlier comment that one of the things she liked about "Exotica" was how, as a "Twin Peaks" fan, she thought it had similarities. I agree that the mood and unexpected plot turns are similar.

But the comment also made me reconsider just how unconventional "Exotica's" story is. "Twin Peaks," as unique as it is, begins with a Hollywood- or audience-friendly tale: It centers around the mystery of a young woman's death. (And the series fell apart once the mystery was solved, even with all the strong supporting storylines.) This is the stuff of most audience-friendly fare: "Without a Trace," "C.S.I.," etc., with pretty women or children as typical victims.

Yet even though the murder of Francis' daughter is the motive/link we're waiting for during much of the movie, it's pretty much glossed over as no more than a senseless and tragic event. The movie's more about the emotionally burdensome aftermath (much like "The Sweet Hereafter"). There isn't even much exploration of why Francis was viewed as a suspect, other than the possibility that he thought Sara wasn't his child. I don't know whether Atom Egoyan had trouble either making or financing his films, but I admire him in retrospect for serving up a story that doesn't pander to traditionally audience-friendly storylines. There's a young girl's murder that isn't romanticized or exploited in any way.

Dialogue and acting

The first two things I notice about a movie are how well the dialogue is written and whether the acting is natural (transparent). Okay, to be honest, I notice nudity first, but I definitely notice dialogue and acting before I notice themes or cinematography or even get the characters straight. And I think the level of dialogue and acting ability varies greatly in movies. Just look at Nicholas Cage movies to see how good and bad it can get.

So, my question is: What was everyone's opinion of those aspects of the film?

Sorry if I'm being coy, but I'd like to hear a few opinions before I offer mine!

The Music

Did you notice the use of music? Of course there is the Leonard Cohen song. But there is also that haunting music with some sort of Indian flute. This theme plays at several important points in the film. And there is the very peaceful music that plays during the scenes in the field. It perhaps takes longer to realize that all those people are looking for a dead girl because the music is so tranquil.

Miscarriage of love

I thought there was a recurring idea of birth and parenthood in the movie. Thomas is incubating eggs, which get taken from him. Francis and Christina and presumably Tracey were caregivers for Francis' daughter, who gets taken from him. Eric found the daughter's body. Tracey's dad loans his daughter to his now childless friend. Zoe is pregnant with Eric's child, upon whom Eric will presumably have no claim because of the contract. Francis is sort of a father figure to Christina. Zoe inherited the club from her mother, and now she acts the part of a benevolent matriarch to her employees. There are all these parental type, caregiving relationships, and yet everyone seems so uncared for and alone.

Chekhov and the Gun

This film has several species that are common—even weedy—inhabitants of movies, particularly the overgrown lowlands of hack B-movies. We have a strip club; we have a stripper who seems be threatened with violence at one point; we have an intimidating jealous boyfriend who works at the club. We have a guy who is part of an international smuggling ring; we have cop types in the customs agents. And we have a relationship between a middle age man and a teenage girl that is clearly odd. But none of these play out according to the script that we might expect from past movies.

And of course, we have a handgun found in a drawer during a scene made dramatic by both the surrounding visuals and the music. So who will get shot? Does Egoyan also transgress on the most basic Chekhovian expectation?

Quid Pro Quo

Another important theme in the movie is transactions. Some of these are monetary; some are otherwise.

At the start, Thomas is offered ballet tickets in lieu of cab fare. As a consequence he gradually develops a cruising MO where he sells a ticket to a prospective hook-up only to return the man’s money after the performance and thereby create an obligation to continue the evening elsewhere. We also overhear Thomas refusing to pay for a botched remodeling job.

Francis pays his niece to babysit a baby that is not there—a transaction that she eventually refuses. Francis also offers Thomas an exchange where he will falsify the audit Thomas’s records if Thomas will wear a wire into the Exotica for him.

At the club Eric’s job is only partly that of master of ceremonies; perhaps more important is his role as salesman to get clients to buy table dances from the strippers. We learn that Christina’s falling out with Eric is the result of discovering a secret transaction—Eric’s contract to father Zoe’s child. And finally, after Zoe expresses puzzlement that Eric would continue to work in such a painful environment, we get what is perhaps Christina’s most important line, “Zoe, not all of us have the luxury of deciding what to do with our lives. It’s a job; he’s getting paid alright.”

Palette: Gold and white

There is another link between two places based on the palette. The public parts of the Exotica are lit with a cold blue light. But Zoe’s quarters are dressed out in baroque gold and white and are warmly lit. This is closely matched by the interior of Francis’s house when Tracey is there practicing her music. The walls are white and there is a gold horse on the mantel by the picture of Francis’s wife and daughter in a gold frame, a gold music stand, and there is another picture of the daughter in a gold frame on a table. Tracey wears a black dress with a gold pattern—rather dressy for just playing music in an empty house. Later when Christina confronts Zoe in her quarters about the contract with Eric for the baby, Christina is wearing black with gold chevrons.

Linking the club and pet shop with cold colors is easy to understand. But I’m much less clear about what to make of this linked living quarters using warm golds. I am convinced that the choice is intentional. This is furthered by the fact that Tracey plays the Indian flute theme and this theme restarts when we first see Christina in the black and gold clothes.

Palette: Blue and Green

This film could easily be more confusing than Atom Egoyan intends it to be. Luckily he worked with a talented crew to find way to unify the themes. One that I’m impressed with is the cinematography of Paul Sarossy and particularly the palettes used. The interior of the Exotica club features pale yellowy greens—including Eric’s work shirt—that are lit with a cool blue light. These colors and tones are closely matched at Thomas’s pet shop thereby linking the two places. The club is named “Exotica” and strippers are sometimes called exotic dancers, but the differences between the two establishments are clear. Thomas might have strange creatures from anywhere in the world in his tanks—we don’t know; we can’t see. But at the club, we see all too much. With the exception of Christina, the other dancers all seem to get naked. Eric’s repeated pitch that for just five dollars one of these women will introduce us into “the mysteries of her world” is not credible. The clients might find the dances to be arousing, but we can see that there is no mystery on offer. And further, even though these naked ladies feature frequently in shots in the club, I don’t think they are presented to the film viewer in a sexually exciting way. The cold colors are one reason why.

"Everybody Knows..."

Or so says Leonard Cohen in the song that Christina dances to at the Exotica club. But we the viewers don’t know. And the participants on screen don’t know either. As this carefully woven film unfolds, we are given three storylines but no understanding of how they might fit together. Soon we see that some of the characters know things that the others don’t. And we realize that we know things that some of the characters don’t while they must know things we don’t.

I was impressed with this movie on first viewing it, and like it even better now that I have seen it several times. But I think one thing I have lost in knowing the film better is the sense of repeated revelation from the first viewing. I’m looking forward to what those of you who have never seen it before have to say, and maybe I can briefly relive that experience vicariously.

The very structure of the movie is built around this withholding of knowledge and understanding with the three seemingly unconnected storylines, but also with some of the visual devices. Time and again we see characters viewed through one way mirrors. The first line of the film is said by an as yet unseen customs agent: “You have to ask yourself what brought the person to this point?” He says this to another agent who is watching a suspect through a one way mirror—a suspect he will later have a tryst with without revealing himself. Then at the Exotica club, the one way mirrors figure repeatedly as we see three of our characters observing through the glass: Eric, Francis, and finally, Zoe.

The other visual embodiment of this obscurity is just obscurity. One of our storylines is a group of people crossing open fields of tall grass. We quickly realize that they are searching, and the open vistas are of no help to them because what they want to find would be down in the grass. At least one of the participants, Eric, feels that it is probably a futile quest and tells Christina “There are so many places you could hide something in this country.” But the most compelling image of obscurity is the murky green but glowing tanks in Thomas’s pet shop. What lives in there? Francis is disturbed by some strange creature in a tank in the moments before he discovers Thomas’s gun.

New movie Notice

We are starting our second movie today, "Exotica". There will be no further warning of spoilers.

Fearless

I just wanted to tell you all that I walked by Kim's desk while she was at the news meeting, and sitting in plain sight is a videotape in a clear case marked "EXOTICA" in all caps.

Wow — in advance

I watched "Exotica" last night. Ricky, you have some splainin' to do!

(For those who don't know, DW's real name is Ricky, but he is not a Cuban band leader.)

Just a Few Naked Ladies

After Christy's fine start I thought I would give you something in English, but, alas, without a mambo taxi and spiked gazpacho. Maybe the naked ladies will make up for the loss.

This cover art is a poor way to advertise the film. It looks like it is going to travel a well rutted road through hack B-moviedom. Instead it finds a beautifully strange wilderness. So here is our next movie, a moody exploration by Atom Egoyan.