MUBI

I am attempting to write a critical review about this film but am finding myself void of intelligent critique or the ability to articulate my thoughts. Off the cuff … I wanted to like this film. As a huge fan of Gus Van Sant it didn’t seem possible that I would be disappointed but I was. Minimal cinematography, as described in other descriptions and reviews, to me, was overly cryptic. To compare to other mediums of minimalism, whether it be the sculpture of Donald Judd or the paintings of Mark Rothko, there exists a prevalent phenomena of the non-narrative. Paranoid Park contains a narrative but lacks the emotional relevance as incredibly portrayed in another Van Sant film: Last Days – which is entirely pathematic. For me, the greatest example of minimal cinematography is Todd Haynes’ Safe where the narrative lies firmly in visceral movement.

I REALLY wanted to like this film. I very much enjoyed the hand of Van Sant showing throughout this film but beyond his directorial talent, the film fell short for me. There are a few subtle moments of cultural anamnesis based in certain realities including train jumpers, the neo-punks living on the street and tough, secretive and secluded skate parks. Beyond these few intense moments of personal recollection I didn’t take away a substantive piece of work but rather one that will be forgotten.

Ganadora del Premio 60 Aniversario del Festival de Cannes, y considerada por Cahiers du Cinéma como la Mejor Película del año. Basada en la novela de Blake Nelson. Explica Gust Van Sant que Paranoid Park es una reescritura de “Crimen y Castigo”, que escogió actores amateurs como ya había probado en anteriores propuestas, que experimentó con diferentes formatos del super 8 al 35mm, rodó en escenarios reales, secuencias cámara en mano, slow motion, todo ello como proceso de una búsqueda…Parece que al director le fascina la idea de la línea, el punto exacto que tanto une como separa; realidad y ficción, culpa y duda… Y somos espectadores de cómo juega con nosotros, juega a varios juegos. A encender y apagar esa pequeña muerte que siempre buscamos cuando nos hundimos en la butaca. A crear un tempo elástico que nos permite asomarnos al universo privado de Alex con una temporalidad própia. Juega a hacernos surfear por la pista de asfalto de olas inabarcables, provocándonos un estado mental. Juega a parar la cámara y dejarnos mirar, lo poético y onírico de una imagen, de un movimiento… Juega a … introducir/fijar ideas en nuestra cabeza: adolescencia, fragilidad, muerte, culpa, fascinación, imposibilidad, deseo, remordimiento, asfalto, belleza, búsqueda…
La localización a destacar sería la impresionante pista de olas de asfalto construida por los propios skaters en California que no he conseguido averiguar cómo se llama. De la banda sonora me quedo con Ethan Rose y su sonido mínimal e introspectivo.

The films often out-of-place score slowly builds as Alex (Gabe Nevins), pencil in hand, jots the words “Paranoid Park” into his notebook. The film cuts to a dreamlike sequence at a skate park where almost faceless skaters navigate their way through sunlight and shadows, over the ramps and half-pipes that shape their existence. It feels like a trance, a time when these people can forget about everything and just be. The granular discolouration continues as we follow Alex through a field until he sits down on a bench. Just like that, the dream ends, even if it is not over forever. He continues writing in his notebook and so his disconnected narration begins.

He tells us that his older friend, Jared (Jake Miller), suggested the two should go to Paranoid Park, an illegal skate park built under a bridge in Portland by the aforementioned lost cause skaters, to which Alex replies that he is not ready for. “Yeah, but no one’s ever really ready for Paranoid Park,” Jared says. Truer words have never been spoken and moody director Gus Van Sant uses this as a starting point for his latest homage to the dilemmas of adolescents told in an elliptical fashion that never boarders on anything less than captivating. Everything is given time to sink in and register and the repetitive aspect of the story – the back and forth movement between what is and what was – is not just an entertaining device, but an integral aspect into decoding the mind of a young man who is not even sure where his head is at.

Alex tells the story through his eyes, shaping the story on his own terms. He explains early on that he will not write down what it is he has to get out in order, but rather the way he remembers it. In other words, until he can process everything and come to terms with what ever it is he has done. He fills in details as we go along, about his life, his family, his friends etc. He goes back and forth correcting himself as he remembers certain aspects of the story or as he allows us to see the truth behind the lies he tells or exhibits to everyone else. It is quite often difficult to know exactly what Alex is thinking and what is on his mind because so many things are happening to him at once, and although I have not figured out every possible thought he may have had, I take comfort in my opinion that Alex did not know what he was thinking himself a lot of the time. Or so he would have us believe. His thoughts are elusive.

The story is less about spoken or written words, more about what is going on underneath the expression-less face of the film’s subject, and that makes it difficult to connect with Alex, some of the time. Van Sant is strikingly aware of the awkwardness of teenagers and how difficult it is for them to articulate thoughts and emotions. He approaches this story no differently. When he cannot tell anyone else what is going on in, Alex writes it down, but only after Macy (Lauren McKinney), his only friend who can see that something is wrong with him, tells him that it is the only way to get rid of the pressures of his conscience.

Alex is your typical teenager with all the perils that come with growing up such as the pressures of his virgin girlfriend (Taylor Momsen) to have sexual intercourse for the first time and his moving further away from his family and straight into the influence of his friends or peers. His parents are splitting up and his younger brother is emotionally unstable because of it to the point where he throws up his dinner. Something that happens with nearly all broken families happens to Alex too, he seeks emotional refuge elsewhere.

That is why Paranoid Park is so attractive to him, its inhabitants are in the same state he is and the park has become their home. It is the one place where nothing matters. The one place where everything just melts away and even if it is for the smallest moment of time, they are free from gravity that holds them to their problems. So it seemed to Alex at the time, before he knew that his experience at the park could lead to something bigger than he could handle, something larger than any amount of skating could make disappear.

A month after Alex and Jared’s initial daytime visit to Paranoid Park, Alex is called out of him Math class and he proceeds to walk from class down the hallway without a care in the world, teenagers are masters of concealing their emotions after all. He continues masking the truth when Detective Richard Lu (Dan Liu) questions him. The detective is investigating a murder of a security guard that occurred at a railroad track close to Paranoid Park. The case is linked to the skate park and it is suspected that someone from the park is responsible.

Alex provides all the perfect answers and even when the detective tells Alex that a skateboard with DNA evidence on it had been found in the river by the park, Alex does not even twitch. Detective Lu assures Alex that he understands Alex’s family situation and teenage ways, and lets him go back to class. Detective Lu may understand Alex to a certain point, but not as well as Van Sant does.

As disconnected as Alex would like to appear, the audience becomes fully aware of the guilt that plagues his immature mind, and when he gets nervous or anxious, the audience can feel it too. Van Sant is that quick at pulling you in and not letting go. Of course, it is not all his doing, his inexperienced yet, most of the time, fluent cast are mostly refreshing. At times, their inexperience make their lines come across as forced and not as natural as Van Sant would have liked, but it could just be that these teenagers are simply ordinary and not all that articulate at the best of times. The pure authenticity of the characters is admirable to say the least.

The way in which these characters are completely immersed in their surroundings is a wonder to behold. Cinematographers Christopher Doyle and Rain Kathy Li do not create this world but their touches are essential in providing the audience with the realisation that not everything is what it seems. Everything is given time to register with the audience through slow motion or repetitive imagery, and their differentiating between blurred Paranoid Park and the clarity of the other areas in the film is striking.

Gus Van Sant is a vessel for channelling the angst and troubles of young men, something he did so well in my favourite film of his, “My Own Private Idaho.” He is able to express so much without even having his characters saying anything, as if he can get them to connect with their characters in a far deeper way than meticulously reciting the lines from his screenplay. It is even difficult to think of them as “characters,” it feels as though Van Sant is simply allowing us to observe the life of this troubled teenager who accidentally gets in way over his head, as if it were real.

Newcomer Gabe Nevins is inexplicably capable of seeming unfocused and all over the place and at the same time he is able to convey a serenity that is probably brought on by the sheer helplessness of his character and his incapacity to wrap his mind around what he has done. I think that he felt that the investigation was going nowhere but the guilt was still there. As if the full extent of his actions were pulling him right back down to Earth, just like the gravity that eventually ends the momentary flight of those faceless skaters leaping into the air at Paranoid Park.

For me this film is Gus Van Sant’s magnum opus, a masterpiece that serves to (hopefully) move his personal films even more forward into abstract territory while looking back at everything he’s done: the shots following the protagonist’s back as he walks for extended periods of time recall Elephant, as does the high school setting; the long, intense shower scene recalls the remake of Psycho; the use of Christopher Doyle as DP harkening back to Pyscho as well; the all-too important inclusion of Elliott Smith songs in their entirety at the beginning and end of the film bring to mind Good Will Hunting. And, of course, although this is not part of the now-legendary Death Trilogy, its key focus is death and its confrontation.

The awkward amateur acting is splendid and a joy to behold. I believe the acting is there to deliberately take the viewer out of the film — an alienation technique akin to Godard’s use of music. The cinematography, use of music and jumbled timeline are heavily influenced by Godard as well, it seems, borrowing many techniques from Helas pour moi, Godard’s most beautiful film. Paranoid Park may be the first film to acknowledge and embrace late period Godard, and I applaud it for it. I also applaud it for being a singularly gorgeous film, possibly the most purely beautiful American film since Days of Heaven.

Very much in the vein of Last Days, Elephant, etc. Which I appreciate. It seems that I’m always on board with Van Sant’s more pensive, intimate, 1.37:1 stuff, as opposed to his more shiny studio work. Keep it coming.

This film may rank somewhat lower for me among his “smaller” films, but it’s still an engrossing film. The amateur acting can be distracting at times, but it almost seems like it was encouraged by the director in this case (maybe I’m just making excuses). All scenes are beautifully framed and have a pace that is measured yet nicely tense. Watching it last night helped drift me to sleep – which is meant to be a compliment in this case.

Now, can we get perhaps my two favourite Van Sant films, Gerry and To Die For onto The Auteurs, so I can throw some more 5-star ratings his way?

Desde comienzos de esta nueva década, Gus Van Sat estuvo mas interesado en retratar como distntas facetas de la muerte afectan el estado de percepción que uno tiene sobre las cosas. Mas cercana a “Elephant”, “Paranoid Park” comparte con aquella no solo los caracteristicos elementos estéticos del director, sino tambien la idea de que hay algo mal en los adolescentes de hoy.

Tomando como objeto de estudio a Alex, un skater completamente alienado, introvertito, Van Sant retarta el punto donde aparece el abismo. La muerte de un guardia, modifica el estado de las cosas para Alex. Todo se ve raro, con un sentido extraño (será el verdadero sentido de las cosas?), como si el suceso hubiera afectado tambien al entorno que rodea a Alex. Todo esta contaminado. La única solución es sacar las cosas para afuera, asimilarlas, comprenderlas. Ahi es donde nos coloca Van Sant: en la búsqueda de una identidad, en lo dificil que resulta crecer en una sociedad completamente egoísta, donde nada parece estar bien.

Los recursos técnicos, ya utilizados por Van Sant en sus peliculas anteriores, llegan aqui a un nível altisimo, donde uno no puede creer el grado de originalidad al que puede llegar.. Las diferentes capas que se utilizan para la construcción del sonido son absolutamente importantes para ver (oir, comprender) qué es lo que sucede en la cabeza de Alex. El resultado: una pesadilla o bien un grado de elevación similar a que alcanzan los skaters en sus patinetas.

Along with Elephant, I enjoyed this movie tremendously. After seeing My Own Private Idaho, Even the Cowgirls get the Blues, and so on, I thought this guy was done for good, Hal Harteleyized if you will, shelved in the category of “once promising filmmaker becomes a indie nonsense”. Glad to see he made it.

What astonishes me the most is the no-point-of-view style of directing and the carefully composition of each scene that makes it look almost like a documentary. Besides life passing by, not much happens here. Oh yeah, there is a murder but you kind of forget.

Alex (Gabe Nevins) in the span of about a week is going to mature exponentially. As the film opens, Alex presents as an indifferent, callow teen guy. He is a skateboarder and in the way of teens, he has fully inhabited this role, let it define him. He hangs out with skaters, wear skater clothing, and hangs with the skating tribe. He appears to be passing through life trying not to get in anyone’s way, content to just be.

But after a trip to Paranoid Park—a local skating hangout—Alex’s life becomes more complicated. Paranoid Park is a work of folk art. Adjacent to a railroad track, it has been designed by drifters and the under-employed as a skating refuge. Skaters aren’t welcome often beyond their own driveways and Paranoid Park is a haven full of half-pipes, ramps, and swooping curves. Many of its regulars are also dangerous.

Told in a non-linear fashion, “Paranoid Park” is about being haunted by secret knowledge that eats away at you. Alex is forced out of callowness into deep reflection and maturity. Park is not a plot-driven film. Director Van Sant spends much of the film meditating on the faces of his characters. He also cultivates a steadily deepening dread that we begin to experience alongside Alex. Anyone who has ever lived with guilt will ultimately find the film both personal and cathartic. This is a film that rewards your patience and willingness to wait and observe. One of this year’s best.

Another uneven exercise in minutia from director Gus Van Sant, not quite as compelling as ‘Elephant’, but not as painful as ‘Last Days’ – but definitely in the vein of both of them. Dull and pretentious much of the time, with endless shots where absolutely nothing happens that drag on and on while annoying music drones. There are a handful of compelling moments – and at least one actually powerful one – but for the most part this is a chore to sit through.

Paranoid Park e’ uno spettacolo visivo, onirico e malinconico. Un affresco solitario su un’adolescenza (si badi, non SULL’adolescenza, ma su UNA adolescenza in particolare), raccontata con uno sguardo che indaga le profondita’ dei gesti, dei pensieri, che segue fino alla mente e al cuore il giovane protragonista, spaesato eppure cosi’ incosapevolmente coinvolto in una vicenda che lo sconvolge. Se mai ci fosse ancora bisogno di ribadirlo o di comprenderlo, Gus Van Sant e’ un regista atipico e terribilmente sublime, nei suoi piani sequenza che sembrano provenire da un’altrove analogico, nei suoi movimenti di macchina cosi’ innaturali, cosi’ fuori dagli schemi, eppure tanto profondi da essere come ferite aperte che scavano nel corpo dei suoi protagonisti. Come quei primi piani ossessivi sui visi, quei controcampi sempre troppo schivi che lasciano spazio solo alle parole che sembrano provenire da una direzione imprecisata, quasi fossimo noi a parlare, a commentare, a divenire parte della pellicola. Come i tagli improvvisati, le storie costruite senza una direzione precisa, dove sono solo le pure e crude immagini a parlare, e gli sguardi, e i gesti, persino i colori e le luci che invadono lo schermo, o quelle musiche pulsanti e armoniche che diventano battito nella nostra testa, nella testa del giovane Alex. E allora a Van Sant si perdona anche lo stravolgimento nella continuita’ del romanzo da cui e’ stato tratto il film, o le esclusioni di alcune parti, o l’averne sottovalutate altre. Rispetto al libro, il film diviene un mezzo non per esprimere o raccontare, ma per sottointendere, per ispirare. Le immagini che scorrono divengono pura poesia, quando vengono rallentate, racchiuse nello spazio angusto di un taglio di luce che prima e’ un bagliore accecante, poi lentamente diviene buio. Quasi a descrivere i pensieri che affollano la mente del giovane, così turbolenti e indefiniti. Si veda, a tal proposito, l’incredibile scena della doccia, quell’apparente fermo immagine sul profilo di Alex che ha la potenza di una fotografia, e che ci ricorda la vita e il suo scorrere solo attraverso alle gocce d’acqua che, al rallentatore, accarezzano i suoi folti capelli e gli attraversano e solcano il viso. Quasi fossero lacrime. E poi le sue mani che coprono il suo sguardo, per vergogna, pudore o ossessione, e il suo corpo che lentamente si abbandona nella vasca, uscendo di scena con la grazia straziante dell’abbandono. Una parabola dell’eta’ di passaggio, delle sue domande senza risposta, dei suoi dolori atroci. Ma anche delle sue gioie improvvise, dei suoi momenti ribelli e fugaci, della sua paranoia. Della contraddizione dell’adolescenza, semplicemente.