Salt (2009, Michael Angus and Murray Fredericks)

Not to be confused with the 2010, Angelina Jolie, action blockbuster of the same name; the 2009 documentary short, Salt is an altogether different film.

Salt is the story of award winning and universally acclaimed Australian photographer, Murray Fredericks, who makes a yearly pilgrimage to the centre of Lake Eyre's vast, 3,700 square mile area of salt flatland, in the Northern corner of South Australia. After travelling to what can only be described as one of the most featureless landscapes I have seen on film in some time, he sets up his camera, and captures those moments where the land and sky intertwine. This is a trip that Fredericks has made for six years now (at the time when this film was made), and he spends his time there waiting for those moments where the vast abyss of the land and sky create an otherworldly, alien experience. 

For a film which is roughly half-an-hour long, it is fairly well structured and surprisingly well layered. I must admit that, early into the film's running time, I thought this was little more than a travel-doc, puffing up a sensitive "artiste's" self image. My perception of the film changed, and Fredericks himself, changed once we are shown his monotonous and tedious daily routine, like having to constantly avoid storms and keeping his lenses clear. By capturing Fredericks' routine, we are not necessarily getting depth from him, but it does allow us to sympathise with him, since the routine allows him to seem more human. In the last half-an-hour of the film, he reveals that the motivation behind travelling to a part of the world with no civilisation came after receiving a cluster of bad news at the age of 26. Within the span of about a month, he discovered that his parents were getting divorced, not long after his father had recovered from cancer, and, on top of that, his then girlfriend, whom he had a child with, was leaving him. This resulted in him temporarily going blind in one eye and not leaving the house for several months.

By attempting this journey every year, he is searching for himself, and searching for something more profound, all while staring into the wide, open abyss. This is a trope which is familiar in narrative, fictional cinema, but it is just as profound in documentary cinema, such as Werner Herzog's Encounters at the End of the World. Fredericks likens it to "staring into the abyss", which is of course magnified when the particular abyss he is staring into just happens to be a fantastic and beguiling sensory experience which is constantly changing, depending on the weather or time of the day.

Then there are the flats themselves, which, quite frankly, engulf one's vision with their vast beauty; so much so that Fredericks runs the risk of playing second fiddle to the natural beauty he is attempting to capture, which I suppose is fairly fitting, but I doubt it is deliberate. One particular fascination of filmmaking, which has become very popular since the rise of websites such as Youtube or Vimeo, is that time-lapse videos have become very accessible and widespread online, and the film contains several minutes of time-lapse. On one hand, there is really nothing particularly unique or interesting about a time-lapse of a beautiful landscape; especially since a quick search on Vimeo would give me thousands, if not tens of thousands, of time-lapses just as impressive. On the other hand, these are stunning to look at and, as audience members, it is perhaps the only opportunity we are going to get to see these flats in this particular light.

If there is a flaw, it is that, while eventually becoming an interesting piece of work, it does come across like a paid advertisement for Fredericks' photography (which is stunning, judging by the pictures shown during the closing credits). Even as the darker layers are revealed, there is little to the film which has not been better explored by many other filmmakers. It certainly is not bad, it just feels inessential and better suited to television; which is inevitably where it went, after American television channel, PBS made it part of their documentary series, P.O.V. There is also the nagging sense that, had Fredericks' journey taken place anywhere else, there would not really be a film at all, since a lot of the film hangs on the stunning photography and the beauty of the salt flats.

Although, having said all that, if the film is a little shallow, there are a lot worse subjects to centre a short documentary on, as Fredericks is an affable, genuine seeming man. All in all, there are plenty of worse ways to kill half an hour, and we are presented with a good example of a man staring out into the void and finding that the void stared back at him. Other than that, it lacks a uniqueness which could have made something like this truly breathtaking.

7/10

Fargo (1996, Joel Coen)

In attempting to categorise Joel and Ethan Coen's crime-comedy movie, Fargo, one comes up against several pitfalls. On one hand, while it has elements of noir in its structure, its setting, characters and black-humour make it difficult to call it an out and out film noir. On the other hand, it would be hard to call this a straight comedy, since any laughs that come from this only serve to heighten the crime plot. I guess this is what made the Coen brothers come across as such oddballs back in 1996. They were idiosyncratic to the point where their work was undefinable either in genre or tone.

The film opens in 1987, and Jerry Lundegaard (William H. Macy), a Minneapolis based auto salesmen, has travelled to Fargo, North Dakota, to hire two criminals to kidnap his wife, in exchange for a brand-new car and half of $80,000 ransom. Although, Jerry is not shooting straight dice, as he intends to demand a much higher sum from his wealthy father-in-law, hoping to keep most of the money for himself. Carl (Steve Buscemi) and Gaear (Peter Stormare), the two hired goons, successfully kidnap Jerry's wife, but things go awry as they are pulled over by a cop while passing through Brainerd (home of Paul Bunyan and Babe the Blue Ox). Carl's attempt to bribe the cop fails, which prompts Gaear to shoot the police officer in the head. As Carl is clearing the now deceased officer off the side of the road, he is seen by a couple passing by in a car. Gaear gives chase, until the couple swerve off the road, enabling him to kill them both. The investigation now falls into the hands of Brainerd based police officer, Marge Gunderson (Frances McDormand), a quick witted, highly competent police officer who happens to be several months pregnant. 

To watch Fargo is to experience two filmmakers who, not only understand genre, but also understand how people in Minneapolis behave. Of course, Joel and Ethan Coen grew up in Minneapolis, so they clearly understand the attitudes and the speech of the people who live there; from their lilting "Minnesota Nice" accents to something as simple as their reaction towards bad weather. One might call it a risk to set it somewhere like this, with these people, but the film, and indeed the filmmakers, have an overwhelming confidence in their work which sees it through to the end. We can take Marge seriously as a police officer, despite her saying things like, "Mind if I take a seat, I'm carrying quite a load here." Or, "By the look of his footprint he looks like a big fella'". Although, regardless of the Coens' familiarity with the people and place, it is the originality of the crime story which cements it all together. 

That is not to say that there has never been a film about a botched crime job before this, but it is handled tremendously. For example, Jerry's incompetence as a criminal can be seen when he tries to stop the kidnapping going ahead, since he may not need the ransom money after all, but cannot cancel because he does not have the kidnappers' phone number. In fact, his incompetence as a criminal is only surpassed by his greed and selfishness. He only has himself to blame for getting himself further into hot water. His attempts to scam his father-in-law, the criminals and the General Motors Acceptance Corporation (which he uses to take out loans on cars he does not own), is hilarious, since he is so blind to the consequences of his actions. Of course, William H. Macy specialises in these kinds of bumbling fools, but nothing he has done before or since this have come close to the excellence of this performance.

Through the Coens' use of banal dialogue and small town sensibilities, even characters like Jerry and the two kidnappers come across as recognisable; which is  perhaps why this is their best screenplay to date. The characters do not talk in exposition, they talk, as you or I would, and the film is all the better for it. Jerry is a monster and a creep, but his mounting debt does make him a human being - if not a decent human being - if only because we recognise his cluelessness. Carl is a lowlife, small time hood, but the more things go wrong, the more his paranoia continues to mount, until the things he does no longer seem to be in his, or indeed anyone's, control. Although, his biggest source of paranoia comes from the sluggish, "big fella", partner of his, Gaear. Since he is a psychopath who has no qualms murdering anyone he chooses. In any case, even if they are not at all sympathetic, they are endlessly endearing to watch, if only so we can see how badly they mess up.

 Marge Gunderson  is clearly the moral compass of the film. She trusts people implicitly, to the point where she comes across as a little naive, and her demeanour is unwaveringly friendly. She just wants to do her job — at which she excels — and go back home to her husband and watch a little television before bed. She is perhaps the Coen brothers' greatest character, and the fact that she does not appear until half way through the film only strengthens the fact that she is such a good contrast to the rest of the characters in the film, who are for the most part, scumbags. 

Perhaps the most crucial part of Marge's development is a subplot that comes fairly late in the film, where she meets Mike Yanagita (Steve Park), an old high school friend who has long since harboured a crush on Marge. After a little small talk, she asks him whether or not he ever got married or had kids and he replies by telling her that he was married, but he is now a widower. It is not until later that Marge finds out from an acquaintance that Mike was never married, and the woman to whom he claimed to have been married is still alive. Until now, Marge had never considered that people could be so cruelly manipulative or underhanded to attempt to get something they wanted (in this case, Mike wanted to sleep with Marge). This characterisation is what is so marvellous about Fargo and that meeting with Mike allows Marge to see through people who are willing to be so banally evil to get what they want. The fact that she manages to come through the events of the film with her soul and heart intact is marvellous, and when she tells her husband, Norm (John Carroll Lynch) that they are "doin' pretty well", she really means it.

Frances McDormand's performance, as Marge, is nothing short of brilliance, and will go down in history as being one of the best ever by a female lead.  She is helped by a fantastic supporting cast, who work hard to make their dishonest, shady characters seem human; which is quite a feat, considering just how awful they are. 

I am unsure if this is my favourite film by Joel and Ethan Coen, but it is certainly up there with their best films, and, alongside The Dude from The Big Lebowski, it contains their best leading character. Also, it would be remiss of me not to mention the score by Carter Burwell, who uses a Norwegian folk song, The Lost Sheep, as the basis of his score. This is especially clever, since the way characters speak portrays their Scandinavian-American origins. There is really little else I can say about the film without overpraising it, so I will end by imploring anyone who has not seen this, to go out and find a copy.

10/10