Everyone’s experienced the dilemma. You’re standing at a redbox at 10:30 on a Wednesday night — maybe by yourself, maybe with a friend — and you’ve narrowed it down to two of that week’s new releases: “District 9” and “Taking Woodstock.” It’s hard to know how to even compare them. This column aims to help.
Every two weeks, I’ll pick two seemingly unrelated recently released DVDs and go about connecting them by focusing on some common characteristic in their production or plot. And then you can take my advice, or just rent “John Tucker Must Die.” Again. Your call.
There are movies with soundtracks, and then there are musicals. Neither is inherently better. Both are valid forms of entertainment. But in all movies, the director must work carefully to ensure the music accents highs and lows, rather than completely taking over the story, lest he find himself directing a glamorized karaoke video.
For a movie about a school filled with preternaturally talented teen musicians, singers, dancers and actors, “Fame” is a surprisingly un-artful film. A remake of the eponymous 1980s classic, the movie chronicles the high school careers of a class at New York City’s LaGuardia Arts. In short, it’s a typical school-days story with the added twist that the hormone-riddled dramatrons can also sing and dance.
One gets the feeling that if “Fame” were used as an audition tape for a similar school specializing in directors, Kevin Tancharoen, in his film debut, would be shut out of the industry like so many crestfallen cellists near the beginning of his own film. Movies have a certain expectation of artistry that simply is not met here. One of the most consistently disappointing failures is the clumsy, amateurish way in which musical numbers are woven into the story.
In the most egregious example, a speaker and microphone are snuck into a school lunch, which quickly turns into a into a musical number encompassing a rap battle and break dancing session with violin and tap shoe accompaniment. Lunch tables are overturned and danced upon with abandon. The individual performances may be good, but the bigger problem is that at this point “Fame” has essentially devolved into “High School Musical” without the Disney fun and Corbin Bleu hair.
Worst of all, Tancharoen ignores the route traditional to musicals of overlooking the unrealistic implications of songs. Instead, a female lead walks out of the cafeteria and says, sans irony, “My parents would die if they saw that,” forcing us to view the improbable scene as the movie’s sad reality.
This approach is antipodal to the much gentler method seen in “Big Fan,” where rookie director Robert Siegel’s light touches with camera and sound save a below average story from becoming a below average movie.
“Big Fan” revolves around the life of Paul Aufiero, an obsessed New York Giants fan, living a massively pathetic existence with his mother and working nights as a garage attendant. Though a convoluted chain of events, Giants star Quantrell Bishop punches out Paul, landing him in the hospital with severe head trauma. Paul must decide whether he will pursue justice and monetary compensation or stay loyal at all costs to the Giants with the playoffs fast approaching.
Siegel shows class and confidence with his choice of music and techniques for integrating it into the movie. Rather than forcing it down the viewer’s throat as in “Fame,” Siegel fades in mood-capturing songs at key moments, while simultaneously cutting back the dialogue to showcase the melodies. Often, this results in montage-like sequences that say far more about character than words ever could.
There’s one such moment in particular that perfectly captures “Big Fan’s” essence. Early in the movie, Paul and Sal spend Sunday afternoon in the Giants Stadium parking lot watching the Giants win and the upbeat “Two Ton Feather” by Dion grows from a whisper to a blast over images of Paul and Sal celebrating in front of the rusted out cables connecting the car battery to the television set. As they rejoice, the oldie’s lyrics reference the pair’s buoyancy, proclaiming “It may look like I’m crazy, baby, but I know better/ Don’t try to hand me no two ton feather.”
Compare this to “Fame,” where the music’s usefulness ranges from reinforcing the irrelevance of the moment to the inanity of the entire movie. During the lunchtime scene, almost a minute is spent on a call and response — “When I say ‘We Gon,’ ya’ll say ‘Rock it!'” — led by a character with no speaking lines the rest of the film.
Even when Tancharoen brings in a love-song classic like George Gershwin’s “Someone to Watch Over Me,” the powerful ballad is sung in class, and the singer is chosen by the teacher to illustrate what a specific student should aspire to in her own singing.
The difference between the songs of “Fame” and “Big Fan” isn’t the quality of the music. Rather, it’s the way the songs are presented. “Fame” wants badly for its music to create emotion, but it forgets the best way to do that is to also advance the plot, instead making its songs total diversions from the story.
The music of “Big Fan,” on the other hand, while far from central to the story, adds immeasurably to its telling by subtly reflecting the mood at key moments. In short, the biggest difference is in “Big Fan,” the characters aren’t listening to the music. In “Fame,” they’re being graded on it.
Lin Weeks is a sophomore majoring in finance and marketing. Upset with his omission of the DVD you were most excited about renting this week? Vent at [email protected].
