Jeepers Creepers, la canción

Estaba embobado con Louis Armstrong –como siempre que lo escucho– cuando el álbum llegó a la extrañísima Jeepers Creepers, una alegre canción que Satchmo estrenó en el cine y que el mismo cine se encargó de pasar de alegre a siniestra a lo largo de los años. Nada más extraño que la letra escrita por Johnny Mercer, una leyenda musical de entonces. Veamos lo que dice:

Now, I don't care what the weather man says
When the weatherman says it's raining
You'll never hear me complaining, I'm certain the sun will shine
I don't care how the weather vane points
When the weather vane points to gloomy
It's gotta be sunny to me, when your eyes look into mine

Jeepers Creepers, where'd ya get those peepers?
Jeepers Creepers, where'd ya get those eyes?
Oh Gosh all git up, how'd they get so lit up?
Gosh all git up, how'd they get that size?

Oooh, Golly gee! When you turn those heaters on,
woe is me, got to put my cheaters on,

Jeepers Creepers, where'd ya get those peepers?
On, those weepers, how they hypnotize, yes
Where'd ya get those eyes?
Where'd ya get those eyes?
Where'd ya get those eyes?

La lengua inglesa es inagotable, y es imposible escudriñar todos los significados de estos versos escritos en 1938 para una comedia llamada Going Places. En la cinta actuaba el mismo Satchmo y nada menos que Ronald Reagan, quien 40 años después se convertiría en un célebre presidente, y tal como la misma canción, pasaría de divertido a terrorífico dependiendo de a quién uno se lo pregunte. En la película, el genial Satchmo es el único capaz de hacer dócil a un caballo de carrera cantándole la canción.

En la letra, el título y estribillo “Jeepers Creepers” parece ser una forma sublimada de decir “Jesus Christ!”, (algo así como decir “¡Ay, Jesús!”, "¡Dios mío!" O, al estilo boricua, "¡Ay bendito!"), un recurso común de entonces para evitar una referencia religiosa directa usando sólo las iniciales con distintas palabras. Los “peepers” son los ojos, claro, al igual que los “heaters”. Los “cheaters”, por su parte, son gafas oscuras para apaciguar el impacto de esa mirada.

Bueno, no parece nada terrorífico. ¿Por qué entonces fue tan fácil convertir esta alegre letra en algo tan horroroso como en la cinta de 2001, Jeepers Creepers?  El título ayuda, por cierto. Ya en 1939, apenas un año después de Going Places, la Warner Bros. usó el tema en un dibujo animado de Porky Pig, donde el tartamudo cerdito personifica a un policía que es llamado a indagar en una casa embrujada en la que es aterrado por un fantasma. Que el cerdito Porky sea un policía (que ya algunos llamaban “Pigs” en esos días) es un doble sentido imposible de evitar.

Jeepers Creepers by MistyIsland1

Y de ahí nos vamos hasta 2001. Producida por Francis Ford Coppola para American Zoetrope, y dirigida por Victor Salva, Jeepers Creepers no gozó nunca de la aprobación unánime de los críticos, pero tiene momentos indudablemente espeluznantes. La cinta, además, fue capaz de crear un monstruo totalmente original, y no sólo con el maquillaje y los efectos especiales, pues el personaje que colecciona partes y miembros humanos en una galería macabra, no se asemeja a nada que hayamos visto hasta entonces.  

Para mí la película es genial exprimiendo en lo posible el lado oscuro de la canción, haciéndola rozar esa fibra oscura que nos trepa el alma cuando pensamos en terrores desconocidos.

Novedad de último minuto. O al menos lo es para mí. Me entero ahora que hay una nueva secuela de Jeepers Creepers, pronta a estrenarse. Esta sería la tercera, y a decir verdad, la segunda no fue tan buena como la original. Peor aun, el tráiler no promete gran cosa, aunque también la dirige el mismo Salva. Mejor no juzgar demasiado aprisa.

En fin, eso es todo, amigos, Porky dixit. A seguir escuchando a Satchmo. Pero esta vez, con la luz encendida.

The Immigrant

I was quite impressed with this movie directed by James Gray, who previously pulled-off a beautiful little film like Two Lovers, a mostly dialogue-based film that reached amazing realism. Working again with Joaquin Phoenix (Bruno), Gray here casts the beautiful French actress Marion Cotillard (Ewa), the Polish “immigrant” of the title, and Jeremy Renner in a secondary role. The story takes place in New York after WWI, when Ellis Island became the European gateway to the U.S. The social portrait of those days is just brilliant, with its yellowish photography and the detailed ugliness of the everyday life. In this pot-boiler of hope and hopelessness in equal measure, Gray provides a vivid background to the characters emotional turmoil -- fleshing out a plot where simple and universal words like deceit, honor and guilt acquire poignant human dimension. As mentioned, the excellent cinematography makes The Immigrant a visual experience as well, but mostly, what we take home with us is the harrowing presence of Joaquin Phoenix who, once again, tears out the souls of the audience, forcing us to confront the shaky moral center that lies within every great drama.

A Most Wanted Man

A Most Wanted Man is a spy movie based on a John le Carré novel, just like the most recent Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy. It feels like a long drink of a good whiskey – rich, smooth and full of flavor, also discreetly explosive. Not for kids –who will choke to death, neither for noisy beer drinkers.

Phillip Seymour Hoffman is the spy here. His character, Günther Bachmann, is a German intelligence veteran who, after 9/11, has slowly created a web of informants within the Hamburg Islamic community. Without spectacular actions or torturing suspects, he is not out there looking for big detentions – he wants to see the big picture and patiently follow the thread that feeds terrorism. Chain-smoker, heavy drinker type and weary of the job and its disappointments, Bachmann has his eyes set on Issa Karpov, a half Chechen/half Russian Muslim who is suspect of being a radical jihadist. Issa arrives illegally to Hamburg with unknown reasons. Bachmann superiors and also the Americans want him to be detained immediately before he may contact other terrorists. Bachmann disagrees: he wants to learn his motives.

Following his instincts, Bachmann labors a plot to turn Issa’s immigration lawyer – beautiful and effective Rachel McAdams – into his ally. Issa is a broken man, he learns, tortured by Chechens and Russians, he is the inheritor of big money deposited in a Hamburg bank by his corrupt father, a man whom he despises. Bachmann gets convinced that Issa is not a terrorist but, being a practical man, he does not see a problem in using his money as bait to catch a bigger fish – a respectable Muslim scholar who, apparently, has secretly helped to fund terrorism through the years without being directly involved. Bachmann also thinks that he can be used as a valuable source of information within the terrorist network.

As we find out, all this patient needlework by Bachmann might have been possible in a less chaotic world, or at least in the pre 9/11 world. After the fiasco, intelligence services have just become too heavy handed, needing immediate results. The movie implies that capturing suspects and presumably using torture is seen as a simpler path to those ends. Bachmann, with his decent and surgical approach, wants to save misfortune to his subjects. But he is too easy to betray by his own and his even more powerful allies, the Americans. He is on his way to another disappointment.

Dutch director Anton Corbijn, who was also in charge of The American, works better in the cold. Hamburg is shown as an impersonal and indifferent city but you wonder if this is not just a façade for an ebullient underworld. And you may say the same about the characters. Willem Dafoe as a Bank president is a man living in a padded luxury but silently frustrated, willing to get involved in a spy plot and follow a beautiful lawyer into the dilapidated apartments of the poor. Rachel McAdams, usually known for her perky, over sweetened persona, provides a measured performance as an immigration lawyer fully committed to her protégés. However, you start to figure out if it is not something of a more human touch, what she is really after. Robin Wright, as the American intelligence officer, is maybe the key to understand A Most Wanted Man. She uses her charm to gain trust from her German counterpart but she has her own agenda. The real villain in the story, her character exemplifies the relationship of the US intelligence with Europe, as the friend-spying scandals with Germany, France and other countries have come to surface – teasing them up with their resources and friendly manners, secretly using them and aspiring to have them under control.

Phillip Seymour Hoffman as Bachmann is more of an open book here, all brains and calculation on the outside, secretly caring and compassionate inside. A man fully committed to “make the world a safer place” as he says, a mission that transcends himself. Hoffman saved one of his best performances for last.

Robocops

Directed by José Padhila, the new Robocop film starts great. The United States is still the world policeman but, in these futuristic times, not many American soldiers sacrifice their lives to make it possible. Our technology takes care of it. Robot soldiers and machines take control of foreign cities —not very successfully sometimes — but with enough good results to have conservative TV pundits like Samuel Jackson — turned into a sort of Bill O’Reilly — pushing to have the same Omnicorp machines patrolling American cities.

Since there is a strong opposition in Congress to allow robots in our streets, the search for a human face of this new mechanized law enforcement that may change the public opinion becomes a search for a hybrid, a human-robot police man. The best moments of the film take place when a scientist –an excellent Gary Oldman, by far, the best of this new Robocop– dedicated to provide limb replacements to amputees, interacts with the ideal candidate, policeman Alex Murphy. Murphy was a victim of an attempt to end his life that later on we realize was not a coincidence. The dialogue between the scientist and the policeman is quite moving, especially when we see a man who, facing his reality for the first time, instinctively prefers death to having this artificial life.

The situation reminded me of those lines by Roman Polansky in “The Tenant” that go more or less like this: If I have my arm severed I can say, me and my arm. If my arms and legs are cut off I can say “me and my limbs”, but if my head is severed off my body, what right has my head to call itself “me”? Well, this is not a light question in the times we live, since technology is now able to create advanced prosthetics that can work and function as real human parts. A remarkable, emotive scene in the film happens early, when the scientist encourages a disgraced artist to play the guitar with two mechanical arms. 

All this is great but then… the movie flops. Let´s see how. 

Since Robocop is too human to beat the machines in terms of effectiveness, his brain is computerized and drugged so that the machine part takes over, something that makes him vastly efficient but at the same time kills whatever is left of Murphy’s humanity. In a twist that everyone expected but that comes out of the blue, totally unjustified by the plot, Murphy regains his human conscience and searches for the criminals that tried to kill him.

After the action scenes de rigueur where Robocop kills criminals armed to the teeth with weapons that came from the police itself, and finding out that the same corporation that created him is behind this web of corruption and crime, Murphy is “unplugged” when he is close to know too much. But of course the repentant scientist releases him before he gets killed and Robocop tries to arrest the president of the corporation only to find out that he is not allowed accomplishing this task by his programming. Then again, in a forceful happy ending that makes no sense, he overcomes this programming by sheer will and finally kills the charismatic but ruthless mogul played by Michael Keaton.

At this point of course we are supposed to cheer for the hero. Unfortunately, by then Robocop has spent all of our good will, and has become a non-entity, a boring and stiff character that makes things that nobody knows how, a character devoid of any sympathy that leaves the humanity of the film to rest in the hands of his suffering wife played by the beautiful Abbey Cornish.

Now, when we compare this multimillion production gone to waste to the modest original Robocop directed by Paul Verhoeven that made multitudes cheer, we have to agree that there is nothing like a good story, well-written dialogues and characters, and a relentless sense of humor: “They fix everything these days” Murphy said famously to his mate that had been shot in the old version. Unafraid of playing the kitsch card, the original Robocop had scenes of pure joy that made the audiences laugh but also sympathize thoroughly with the suffering hero.

The original final confrontation is cathartic and outrageous. We know that Murphy’s programming does not allow him to go after the company officers, but he can finally kill his enemy, a powerful manager of Omnicorp, when his boss, the president of the corporation, turns to the bad guy and says: “you are fired”. We laugh, we cheer. We have a hero with us that makes us proud. 

In comparison, the new Robocop ending feels so empty that only serves to remind us that, in spite of its vast resources, Hollywood cannot fix everything these days.

Driving Bach Home

Today it was the second time I drove through the East River Mountain Tunnel in West Virginia and I decided to put it on my phone. The soundtrack is a Bach performance by Ian Bostridge coming through the car speakers. It came out pretty good. There is something nice about it. Unfortunately I could not clean the windshield better than that. It was 27 F degrees outside. 12/1/2013

Hoy fue la segunda vez que pasé por el túnel de East River Mountain y decidí captarla con mi teléfono. La banda sonora es un tema de Bach cantado por Ian Bostridge que sale por los parlantes del carro. Me quedó muy bien. Tiene un algo que me gusta. Lástima que no pude limpiar mejor el parabrisas, afuera hacían 27 grados Farenheit (unos 3 grados bajo cero en centígrados). 1/12/2013

Una separación (A Separation)

Anoche vi una película iraní llamada “A Separation”. Debe ser una de las mejores películas que he visto no sólo este año sino en muchos años. Es una historia simple pero de ramificaciones muy complejas, quizá demasiado para los espectadores occidentales que no sólo deben seguir los enredos de la trama y los dilemas morales de los personajes sino asimilar sus motivaciones religiosas y culturales tan distintas a las nuestras. 

Uno de los misterios del cine es que no sólo nos entretiene y nos complica la vida con sus fantasías sino que crea sus propios espectadores. Es lo que ha hecho el cine americano durante décadas, por ejemplo, creando una especie de espectador universal a base de la propia cultura de los Estados Unidos. Para dar un ejemplo mencionemos el “Día de Acción de Gracias”, que aparece miles de veces en las películas y que todo el mundo no estadounidense acepta como cosa normal aunque nunca lo hayan celebrado en sus países.

Pero volviendo a la película, la principal sorpresa para mí es la madurez del cine iraní en todo sentido. Asghar Farhadi es un director iraní que vive en París desde hace varios años, aunque por lo que se dice en los extras del DVD, su educación dramática y cinematográfica tuvo lugar en su propio país. Sus actores son de una naturalidad tal que es escalofriante, ¡son capaces de hacernos creer lo que quieran! Todos ellos son simplemente soberbios, incluyendo a Sarina Farhadi, la propia hija del director, quien sobrelleva uno de los roles más difíciles que puede enfrentar una actriz adolescente. Y ni qué decir del actor Payman Maadi y, en especial, de Leila Hatami, de un talento y una belleza que quisiéramos ver en muchas películas más.

Disculpen que me vaya por las ramas pero esta película es tan increíble por donde se le mire, que hay demasiado por comentar. Pero empecemos por mencionar la trama, que empieza con una pareja de esposos de clase media empezando un proceso de divorcio ante un juez menor. Pero no todo es lo que parece. La verdad es que la esposa está tratando de forzar al esposo a emigrar fuera de Irán con la amenaza de la separación. El esposo, quien parece ser razonable aunque testarudo, se resiste a emigrar, entre otras cosas por la situación de su padre que sufre de Alzheimer, una penosa enfermedad que, como todos sabemos, es tremendamente destructiva para cualquier familia. Sin llegar a ninguna conclusión en la corte, la esposa decide salir de la casa, obligando al esposo a buscar alguien que se encargue de cuidar a su padre. Una mujer viene a trabajar en la casa, pero pronto descubrimos que la pesadumbre que parece llevar marcada en el rostro es más honda de lo que parece. Embarazada y con una hija pequeña que debe llevar consigo por todas partes, su esposo está desempleado y ha estado entrando y saliendo de prisión debido a sus deudas. Y como si eso no fuera suficiente, no puede contarle a su irascible esposo que ha conseguido un trabajo atendiendo a un cliente varón, por más años y Alzheimer que tenga, además de que su religiosidad la obliga a considerar todo lo que hace a la luz del Corán poniendo su vida en un constante dilema.

Este es el marco para el inicio del dilema moral que no tarda en sobrevenir. Cada uno a su momento, todos los personajes se ven obligados a mentir, arrepentirse y sufrir las consecuencias de sus acciones y arrebatos. Hacia el final de la historia, nos encontramos con el único final feliz concebible, con la consumación de la separación que vemos al inicio, y la hija del matrimonio teniendo que decidir con cuál de sus padres quiere vivir.

Es en ese momento, mientras los padres aguardan la decisión de su hija en los pasillos de la corte, que ingresa la música por primera vez a la película, poco antes del inicio de los créditos finales. Entonces nos damos cuenta que han pasado dos horas sin música ni efectos especiales, sin trucos de cámara y sin escenas efectistas ni deslumbrantes. Sin héroes ni villanos, ni lecciones colmadas de sabiduría. Y todo este tiempo estuvimos absorbidos en un drama que nos ha jironado por dentro con su realismo. 

En busca de la excusa perdida

Descubro ahora que mi última entrada en este blog data de junio pasado. Y estamos en noviembre. Demasiado tiempo como esgrimir para la excusa de no tener tiempo. Ya pensaré en algo.