It is titled “A New High” and follows a number of recovering drug abusers through a program that culminates in a grueling hike up a mountain. The mountain serves as a metaphor for the struggle of overcoming their prior habits, while the climb itself is an achievement that builds their trust in others and confidence in themselves. The program director had a magnetic personality and seemed to have an endless supply of joy and love for others. He passionately dedicated his efforts to seeing positive change for those training for the climb. Early on in the film, an interview establishes the source, and I paraphrase, “Life is hard, but I choose joy. I don’t want to let the joyful moments escape me because of my attitude.” I found this very refreshing to hear. There was an element of faith in his worldview, as shots of him praying with the hikers came later, but I silently thanked the filmmakers for introducing him and his credo in a way that anyone can glean from, humanistic or religious. Check it out on facebook.
After the screening I found myself at a Mexican restaurant (that served amazing guacamole) with my friend (Matteo), the directors, and the composer of the music, Christopher North. It was a mountain-top experience for me in a way, to be able to hear about the process they went through and talk shop with Chris. His score was guitar-based with all sorts of interesting effects that gave it a very introverted, personal sound. They talked of some of the “themes” for certain people, which I found surprising, as I couldn’t remember any overt melodies or instrument changes. But that is in part what makes a great film score – it is subtle, present, effective, completely interwoven with what you're viewing.
On Thursday I went to the Songfest workshop at the Colburn School in downtown LA, where two of my friends were working as accompanists. Two amazing and enlightening masterclasses (with Martin Katz) and a dress rehearsal later, I felt I had fulfilled my art song quota for the day. Highlights for me were Faure’s Les roses d’Ispahan:
Schoenberg’s Jesus bettelt,
And a very lovely song by Korngold... a true gem of a piece.
Martin Katz had little respect for Korngold due to his association with Hollywood. But when one is in love, what else is there to do but wear your heart on your sleeve?
That evening we saw the very disappointing Jurassic World. My response to this was passionate (the negative kind of passion), so I do feel somewhat apologetic for what follows.
1.
Too
much CGI. Too many movies today look like they were shot in a parking garage,
and the 3D glasses don’t make up for it.
The animators do amazing work but their talents would be put to better
use at Pixar.
2.
unresolved
character elements: the teenage boy is reluctant about his relationship with
his girlfriend, and gawks at girls in the park… would you think that almost
being eaten alive several times would change his perspective on things? The girlfriend didn’t come back (actress
got sick maybe?) and I suppose his relationship with his younger brother
improved, but the ending was so abrupt I can’t remember if there was any clear
indicator of this.
3.
A
“plot” that progressed too quickly to give any weight to what was happening.
4.
The
music was good, but emotionally things weren’t lining up. When they were riding the tram, there
was a lot of woodwind activity that must have represented things scooting by in
the background, but there were too many hit points that weren’t hitting on
anything, and it was a little distracting from the dialogue. A scene later the music was telling me
that something important was happening, and the rest of my brain strained and
struggled to find out what it was, but the narrative buildup was so poor not
even the great Williams theme could make up for it. Especially while the camera
was panning through a CGI environment.
5.
It
was unbelievable. OK, it’s about dinosaurs. But the park, the only one of it’s kind in the world and
presumably of great scientific interest, is run by people who don’t know what
they’re doing. The aunt who hustles around with her phone fulfilling what seems
to be secretarial duties ends up being essentially the CEO/development head/park
administrator and is calling the shots (see next 2 points). They design a
super-giant monster T-Rex, the wall is clearly not high enough, and it is
suggested to her to get the male protagonist to check it out, who isn’t a
structural engineer but at least knows how to repair a motorcycle. There wasn’t even a long mahogany table
with well-dressed investors.
That’s all I needed.
6.
Dinosaurs
on the loose? She decides to NOT call the ferry to take people off the island.
Why? Bad press. Bad press? Isn’t
it too late to worry about that? And then the flying dinos are let loose and
pick on the hapless populace.
Which I found to be totally unfulfilling, partially because the hapless
populace was largely CGI, but it was also ethically and emotionally confusing
scene. They did nothing wrong, the
dinos did nothing wrong, so it was just a senseless bite-fest. We hadn’t been introduced to anyone in
the crowd, so there was no emotional connection to “all those poor people” that
I felt sorry for, but with no help from the movie.
7.
Auntie
decides to send in soldiers with non-lethal weapons (stun guns and nets?) to
handle the giant T-Rex monster.
Of course they didn’t stand a chance, and the male protagonist has to
explain that because it was confined and had no social skills, it was more
dangerous, implying that the socially trained dinos were safe to be
around. Has that ever been the
case?
8.
A
secondary villain took the form of someone with military connections who wanted
to use trained velociraptors as weapons in the Middle East. A dumb idea, yes, but the writers felt
this wasn’t obvious enough and gave him dumb things to say, and a lot of them,
until I was certain (and hoped) he was about to be eaten in the next
frame. But he sticks around for ¾
of the film. Of course he gets
eaten by a velociraptor. We all saw that coming an hour and a half ago. He calls in “the military” (rogues,
renegades, mercenaries?) with the push of a button to take over the control
room, and the people there have no way to contact the outside world. Really?
9.
A
tertiary villain: the guy in the lab who had his own science/progress agenda,
but it’s limited to one scene. He doesn’t come back to save his creation or
anything. More loose ends.
10.
Four
trained velociraptors against the mutant T-Rex, and we’re surprised that isn’t
enough? The old T-Rex is let out
to fight it, is essentially defeated, and then springs back to life and saves
the day. It was brief and
anticlimactic, and the Resurrected Dino adds to my list of unconvincing plot
elements.
11.
The
male protagonist falls in love with the aunt. Why? Why?
12.
Closing
line for the romantic couple: “Let’s stick together. For survival.” A line only
Arnold Schwarzeneggar could get away with.
13.
And it was the highest-grossing film of
all time?
The one
redeeming factor was the time I spent afterwards listening to foley artists
create dino sounds from various recorded animal roars, cries, and squeaks. While working on meaningful,
thought-provoking indie productions is certainly appealing, I am also drawn to
the fascinating collaborations big-budget productions foster, even if the end
product is a run-of-the-mill flash-in-the-pan without a story.
