MODEL SPOTLIGHT - Ulorin Vex

Got another chance to work with one of my favorite models, Ulorin Vex, a couple weekends ago. This is our third shoot together, and hopefully not our last. Check out the portfolio at

www.christophermalcolmphotography.com

MODEL SPOTLIGHT - Amanda Jones

Just completed my final shoot of the year with the lovely Miss Amanda Jones. Check out the series at...

www.christophermalcolmphotography.com

PHOTOGRAPHER'S FORUM BEST OF PHOTOGRAPHY 2011

One of my images is featured in the annual Photographer's Forum Best Photography of 2011 book now on sale. Check out more from the series at
www.christophermalcolmphotography.com

Steven Spielberg is not an edgy filmmaker.

In fact, he's the exact opposite. If you looked up the Hollywood style in the dictionary, you'd likely be shown a xerox copy of Mr. Spielberg's IMDB page.

Ever since defining the "blockbuster" with "Jaws," his own personal style has become the template against which big budget action films are judged. And he rarely misses a beat. I mean, how can you miss the mark when you are the mark, right?

Well, after a brief hiatus, Mr. Spielberg is back at it again. With two movies as a matter of fact. With "The Adventures of Tin Tin," he catches his colleague Robert Zemeckis' fever for CGI animation. And with the wonderful new work, "War Horse," he draws on all his experience and vast skill set to produce what Spielberg does best. Create a Spielberg movie.

Spielberg films to me always feel more like watching a moving storyboard than anything actually taking place in the real world. His characters leap forward from the screen as if drawn from comic books. If you watch it closely, even in Spielberg's Oscar winning "Schindler's List," you will see the same sweeping camera moves as you would in "E.T." or "Catch Me If You Can." And, as with all of his films, those sweeping crane shots float to the orchestral sounds of John Williams' sweeping scores.

"War Horse," the sweeping epic of one horse's journey during World War I Europe is perfectly suited for this approach. With it's sights set firmly on your heartstrings, the film doesn't pull any emotional punches. Told through episodic sequences, we follow the majestic horse and the lives of the humans who it comes into contact with. Set among vast English countrysides and massive battles, the film is oddly most effective when dealing in minutiae. The drama of an auction block. A fall harvest. The most efficient way to cut barbed wire. All these scenes work because we are fully invested in the lead character. Even if he does arrive on four legs.

"War Horse" is heroism in the face of great tragedy. Of beauty in a time of horror. You won't leave the theater thinking you've seen the reinvention of the wheel. But by the time Spielberg lays his late "Gone With The Wind" inspired final shot on you, you will find yourself wishing you had a war horse of your own. And your heart will once again be warmed over.

THE GIRL WITH THE DRAGON TATTOO (David Fincher Version) - Film Review

Did the 2009 Swedish classic "The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo" really need to be remade?

No.

The brilliant tension of the original has hardly had a chance to grow stale in the whopping TWO whole years since it's initial release. Aside from a few small changes, the story hasn't changed much as laid out in the late Stieg Larsson's smash hit novel "Men Who Hate Women" (retitled for the film release). And even the presence of one of my favorite directors David Fincher is hardly enough to justify remaking an already exemplary movie trilogy just because of American's inexplicable reluctance to read subtitles.

I don't think I'm overstating things when I say that the character of Lisbeth Salander (here played by Rooney Mara but originated on screen by Noomi Rapace) is one of the most dynamic creations in recent literary history. Pint-sized in stature, she appears superhuman in her ability and ferocity. A goth hacker with a punk-rock hairdo who's never met a match she can't defeat, or an evil she can't out-duel. Okay, that's oversimplifying a bit. Actually, it's oversimplifying a lot.

You see, what makes the Salander character so interesting is not that she's invincible. It's that she only appears to be invincible.

Beneath the tattoos and piercings is a wounded girl. Some of the details of her wounds are better explained in later chapters of the trilogy and won't be discussed here. But the bravado is on display from the word go. The dark eye liner. The black leather. The snarl. Every minute of her existence is geared toward signaling to the world that she isn't to be messed with.

But what lies beneath that is a woman has been deeply messed with. A woman with a deep distrust of people, she instead keeps them at a distance. A woman so hurt be past relationships that, instead of misplacing her love, she decides rather not to give it at all.

So why let down her guard for Mikael Blomkvist (Daniel Craig)? The weathered news reporter is coming off the public embarrassment of trying to tell the truth about someone wealthy enough to change what the truth is. Hired by a wealthy Henrik Vanger (Christopher Plummer) to investigate a family so maladjusted as to achieve Shakespearean proportions, Mikael first engages Lisbeth as a research assistant. She's the best. He should know. She was the one they hired to investigate him.

The suspense that follows is just the icy scales of the story, while it's heart rests in the relationship between Mikael and Lisbeth and how each perceive exactly what that relationship is.

It's impossible to review this new film without comparing it to the old one. Since there's very little fundamentally different about this film other than it's clearly superior budget, the main point of conversation lies on the slender shoulders of... you guessed it, Lisbeth Salander.

Trying to replace Noomi Rapace as Lisbeth Salander is like trying to replace Vivien Leigh in a remake of "Gone With The Wind" (I only use that as an example Hollywood. Please DO NOT remake "Gone With The Wind."). Rapace so fully embodied Salander that it's really hard to imagine another actress ever playing the role. Miss Mara does an admirable job. However, where Miss Rapace seemed to BE Lisbeth Salander, I never shook the sense that Miss Mara was simply PLAYING Lisbeth Salander. And there's a lot to play with. The tough exterior. The wounded interior. The tattoo. Like Scarlet O'Hara, the role of Lisbeth Salander is pure gold. I think the difference between their two performances lies in the fundamental differences between Hollywood movies and those made in the rest of the world. The depth is there in both, it's just that the rest of the world is a little more comfortable burying things a bit deeper.

Rapace's Salander is a constant enigma. I know it sounds strange, but she's almost not human. More like a feral animal. Unpredictable. You have no idea what she'll do next. And she never telegraphs her motivations. When the original Salander climbs into bed with someone, you get the sense that she is asserting her power. She screws, she doesn't make love. Making love would be too personal.

When this Salander makes love, there is a kindness to it. When she meets a woman in a nightclub, there is almost a shyness to the initial encounter. Later, when taking a man into her bed, it directly follows seeing a picture of him as a happy couple, signaling to the audience that what she really wants is love.

Oddly, this may be true. For both versions of Salander. She's built up this unpenetrable persona to push the world away. But on the inside, all she really wants is for someone to pierce the shield. The difference between the two films is that Rapace's Salander would never be caught dead letting on to that fact. Whereas Mara's Salander projects an inner warmth just waiting to be uncovered.

It will be interesting to see what happens with this new series. The original trilogy, as good as it was, did trail off over the course of three films, with the third being the weakest (not coincidentally it's also the one with the least amount of screen time for the actual Girl With The Dragon Tattoo). Here, David Fincher has more openly introduced a possible emotional arc for the character of Lisbeth Salander that could potentially span the three films. While I would call a match up between the two versions of the first chapter a draw that slightly leans towards the Swedish version, I think Fincher's team has a chance to perhaps make a more effective complete trilogy. An extended epilogue in this film not present in the original, sets up a nice narrative conflict for coming episodes. And as much as I may dislike remakes, I'll definitely be on board for part two. Or, part five. Not exactly sure how to say that.

THE ARTIST - Film Review

It took me a while to see Michel Hazanavicius' new film "The Artist." Playing in limited release, I'd heard all the buzz and knew it was one of those films a person like me is "supposed to see" this time of year. But when I looked at the trailer, all I could see was an obvious mash-up of "A Star is Born" and "Singing in the Rain." True, bonus points go out to any filmmaker bold and inventive enough to make a silent black and white movie in 2011, but still, I felt I'd seen the story before. Like five times before. "Singing in the Rain." Three versions of "A Star is Born" which come immediately to mind. And even the original "A Star is Born" called "What Price, Hollywood?" So I wasn't sure I wanted to watch the same story again. Wouldn't it be the exact same thing? Well, in a word, yes. But like all five films before, the familiar story still did not fail to warm me over by the end.

You see, there's a reason filmmakers are repeatedly drawn to the rags-to-riches, riches-to-rags story of two lovers on opposing trajectories. It makes for damn good drama. And when you have a cast as winning as this, you'll find yourself in for a very good time.

A brief recap for those who haven't seen the story before. A dashing leading man, George Valentin (Jean Dujardin) is flying high in silent movies. At the same time, the scrappy upstart Peppy Miller (Berenice Bejo) is just scrambling to get her foot in the door. After a meet-cute movie premiere, George and Peppy start the kind of whirlwind on again-off again romance that is the stuff of... silent movies. Well, with the dawning of sound, silent movie stars like George suddenly find themselves at the wrong end of the unemployment line. But the aptly named Peppy has just what it takes. As her star rises, his begins to fade, and the big time star becomes the small time failure.

I'm not sure what it is about this story that resonates generation after generation. Maybe it's the allure of fairy tale love in Tinseltown. Perhaps it's setting signals just the right amount of glitz and glamor.

But I tend to think it's something more basic than that. I think these films tap into something more primal. Man's need to be King of the Hill. Our basic need to provide for our family. Or, more importantly, to be powerful enough to be able to provide for those we love. It's often said, and proven, that women are attracted to confidence. Powerful men, often with few other redeeming qualities other than that power, tend to attract more women. A sociologist would do a better job of explaining why, but most of their rambling would likely amount to women's primal need to find a strong breadwinner. Literally in the cave man days. The man that is most adept at bringing home the bacon, brings home the most... bacon. He can provide for his woman, and therefore becomes desirable. Apparently not a whole lot has changed since the dawn of man. And Hollywood movie star is one darn good way of providing for your mate.

But what happens when you cannot provide for those you love? What happens when your best efforts fall on deaf ears? When she needs you, when she looks to you for support, but all you can offer her is your own failures. Many of us will know that failure. Few will know the success. And for those who know both, who climb great heights only to tumble from the mountain top, the fall is all the more precarious.

"The Artist," and all the films that inspired it, is essentially about a proud man's emasculation. About his ability, or often inability, to adjust to a world where he's no longer on top.

And to need the undying love and support of a woman, who will love you come what may.

That's the other half of the "Star is Born" equation and what takes the tale from tragic to timeless. Peppy Miller, with all her awkward angles and narrow frame, is exactly the kind of woman that can make the toughest man go all dough eyed. The kind of woman you want to reach out and protect. The kind of woman that you want to provide for. But she's also the kind with a hidden strength. The kind you suspect may need less caring for than your ego first imagined. The kind capable of providing you support as well. The who, when you cradle in your arms, somehow makes you feel more safe. She fills the room with her smile. She fills your heart with her love.

"The Artist" is more than just a retold story. It's a wonderful movie. And a reminder that when you've hit rock bottom and you have nothing left but the love of a good woman, you can still seem the richest man in the world.

SHAME - Film Review

There's nothing inherently wrong with pornography.

There, I said it. A little kinkiness every now and then never hurt anybody. Unless, of course, you're into that. Human beings are naturally curious. We're also, naturally sexual. So when you put those two things together, it's only natural that we should be curious about each others sexuality. That's a good thing.

But it is possible to have too much of a good thing.

Like alcohol, pornography has a way of sucking you in. You take one sip, you feel fine. You take two, even better. Pretty soon, you find yourself wanting more and more. Then needing more and more. Even long after you've forgotten how it even tastes, you find yourself using it out of habit.

And as with any narcotic, once you get used to a certain thing, you find yourself needing to find harder and harder drugs to keep the same high. Pretty soon, the pornography you started with just doesn't do the trick anymore. So you have to keep looking for different outlets. Different stimulus. You suddenly find yourself turning to images and fantasies you may never have even dreamt of just to get back to normal. Pretty soon, this sexual narcotic has taken an effect on your life. No, you're not likely to find yourself shaking in the corner without your daily dose, but it can have an affect on your relationships and how you see the world. And if you're not careful, there may be no turning back.

Such is the case with Brandon Sullivan (Michael Fassbender), a Manhattan suit who's so deep into pornography that his work computer is for a time confiscated for being "filthy."

As a side note, I've always considered that to be the true sign of addiction to porn. If you can't get through the work day without a little taste, it may be time to get help. Oh, and how good must he be at his job that this isn't a fire-able offense?

But I digress. The fact is that Michael's entire life could be termed "filthy." When not surfing the naughty web, he fills his days and nights with frivolous sexual encounters. Even though one of the perks of looking like Michael Fassbender is that those encounters are plentiful, he still can never seem to get enough. Like a hungry child, trying to stuff his face with sweets in an effort to get full, he's missing the main ingredient, sustenance. He's got the quantity, but not the quality. And that's how he likes it. Like the impersonal skin flicks which he uses for his arousal, Michael sees sex as a carnal expression devoid of emotion. His longest "relationship" has been four months. From what we see, most of his sexual encounters don't last more than four minutes. Just enough time to serve the purpose.

It be easy from that description to draw that Michael was a truly despicable guy. But if we look deeper, we understand the reasons for his erotic dependence. A fear of intimacy. Like an alcoholic tossing back shots to dull the pain, Michael sees sex as an emotional antibiotic. These brief sexual trysts are in fact the only vacation he has from the pain of simply being him. Sex with emotion robs him of that safety zone. Love is too close for him. Love means pain. So when people threaten to get too close to his heart, he pushes them away.

At least he tries to. But some people just can't take a hint. That includes Sissy Sullivan (a once again terrific Carey Mulligan), Michael's sister who appears in town to throw his life into chaos. Not that it wasn't chaotic before, but her sheer existence seems to make him angry. The cool and collected Michael is a raging bundle of emotions around his sister. When his sleaze of a boss, David Fisher (James Badge Dale) makes a play for Sissy, Michael can barely contain himself. In excess of brotherly protection, Michael's resentment from seeing Sissy with another man seems to run deeper. While it is never known for sure, we suspect that Michael's relationship with Sissy may be at the root of his intimacy issues. When she climbs into his bed at night to snuggle, his discomfort is palpable. When she stands before him bare in the shower, one can't help but wonder what is going through his mind. And in Carey Mulligan's affecting performance, we suspect that the same thing may be running through her mind as well. At times, it seems as if the adventurous black sheep is almost baiting him. As if she knows the effect she has on him and is constantly searching for more. Sissy has a way of using love to salve her own wounds. And Michael's affection seems to be the medication she seeks the most.

Have Michael and Sissy ever been intimate? We don't know. But her effect on him is undeniable.

So is the effect of this film. I suspect that at least half of the audience members at the screening I attended were sick to their stomachs by the time the story ended. They, no doubt, saw the film as just another cheap exploitation of taboo. It made them uncomfortable, and they no doubt resented it.

But if you look deeper, you'll see the beauty in the film, and especially Michael Fassbender's performance. It is a character study of addiction. A man who seems so in control, but all the time is spinning out of it. We understand the root cause, even if we don't know the exact details. And director Steve McQueen, definitely one to watch, allows us to linger inside Michael's emotions. Through mostly a combination of brilliantly chosen one-shots, he allows us to contemplate Michael's inner turmoil. Michael's actions are not those of a pervert. They are the actions of an addict. A man filled with pain who tries to cure himself in the best way he can. But will the very cure lead to his own destruction?

MELANCHOLIA - Film Review

I suspect we all know it.

As artists, we all feel it.

For creative people, life isn't so much a linear journey towards the dream. Instead, for dreamers, life can often seem more like a constant pendulum swing between euphoric hope and utter despair. The absolute high that arrives when art surges through our veins, escapes from our fingertips, and take on a life of it's own. The totalitarian low that we succumb to when we realize that, despite the achievement, in the long run it may mean nothing at all. Our script may never get made. Our photo never seen. Our novel never read. Our lives becoming a chronic civil war between our inner optimist and the encroaching, inevitable, melancholia.

You don't have to be an artist to understand the feeling. You simply have to be alive. To wonder, if at the end of the day, any of it really matters.

Such was clearly on the mind of Danish filmmaker Lars von Trier when making his new film "Melancholia."

One of the leaders of the Dogme '95 film movement which championed the return to basic storytelling over unnecessary artifice, von Trier begins this film indulging in a bit of the latter. A long slow motion sequence compiled of some of the most innovative images you'll ever see on screen primes us for the story to come. It also establishes the film's slightly operatic tone which doesn't diminish, even when he returns to his Dogme roots to tells the story of two sisters.

The first of the two sisters, Justine, is played by Kirsten Dunst. Bringing new meaning to the word "bipolar," Justine swings wildly from happiness to depression as she and her soon-to-be husband (Alexander Skarsgard) arrive at a divine country estate for their wedding ceremony. But despite the apparent opulence, there is a thinly veiled aura of torment running just beneath the surface. While her sister, Claire (Charlotte Gainsbourg), and brother-in-law, John (Kiefer Sutherland), treat her with kid gloves, nothing seems to ease the onset of Justine's pain. Constantly trying to run away. Always in search of an escape from the pain. Justine seems to have the world on a string but yet still find herself unable to pull it.

Her sister, Claire, on the other hand, seems to be far more well adjusted. The disciplined wedding planner in the first section of the film, so keeps herself occupied with keeping everyone else occupied. She holds herself together, by holding everyone else together. But as Justine's story plays out in part one, and we learn more of Claire's story in part two, things are not always as they seem. Claire too may need support. And we are forced to wonder, are Justine's antics truly madness? Or genuine clairvoyance?

Both women inhabit their roles with brutal honesty. These are not glamorous parts. Their characters are raw and unnerving. They both live their lives under the constant threat that it can come crashing down on them at any moment. Literally. I won't explain that last word just yet. I'll leave you to watch the film to know what I mean by it.

And watch the film you must. The opening ten minutes alone is worth the price of admission. The two leads hold your attention throughout. And the excellent supporting services of Sutherland, Skarsgard, Skarsgard's famous father Stellan, the always dependable John Hurt, and the ever alluring (even when behaving badly) Charlotte Rampling fill the film with nuance. All of it stewarded by the curious hand of Lars von Trier. A man not afraid to take chances. A man not afraid to fail. A dreamer willing to try to make his dream come true. Even while knowing that melancholia may come again and leave him wondering if anything is really worth it in the end.

At least one thing we know. This film certainly is.