Paranoid Park - A Van Sant Masterwork
Paranoid Park commences with angel-faced Alex (Gabe Nevins) casually entering a memoir into a notebook. His words are transmitted to the viewer through his voice-over narration, an obvious signal that this is Alex's interpretation of the story. Though, filmmaker Gus Van Sant will use several other cinematic devices to situate the narrative clearly within the adolescent haze that is Alex's world. Van Sant's willingness to let the medium tell the story in exciting and innovative ways is critical to defining the artistic power of Paranoid Park. It is a hypnotic masterpiece that effortlessly conjures the imagery, the sounds and (most amazingly) the sensations of Alex's detached experiences. Those familiar with Van Sant's Elephant will be aware of the terrain: adolescent alienation challenged by events that defy explanation. Where Elephant tackled the culture that created Columbine (the massacre of several Denver high-school students by two class-mates), Paranoid Park is more intimate in its exploration of youthful confusion, uncertainty and wonder through the eyes of its inscrutable protagonist.
Even though Alex is an enigma, the story at the centre of Paranoid Park is quite simple. Alex is a high-school student with a pretty girlfriend named Jennifer (Taylor Momsen). Alex likes to skateboard, although he's not confident in his ability. One day he and his friend, Jared (Jake Miller), visit a local skate-park known informally as "Paranoid Park". Later that week Alex returns, this time alone, and encounters some older skaters with whom he strikes up an instant connection. Buoyed by a sense of adventure, Alex agrees to set off with one of the group to buy beer and ride a freight train. During the escapade a railroad security worker is inadvertently killed. Alex is unsure of his role in the event and attempts to flee his responsibility, but the guilt of his involvement bears heavily upon him. His only outlet is his politically radical friend Macy (Lauren McKinney), with whom he shares a closer bond than his girlfriend. She advises him that whatever his concerns, he must release them, perhaps through the composition of a letter to her. The resulting correspondence is the crux of the film and is voiced in the film's oral commentary. This straightforward story offers rich possibility for overblown melodrama and suspense, particularly when a police detective (the softly spoken Richard Lu [Daniel Liu]) becomes involved. However, Van Sant wisely ignores the impulse to turn Paranoid Park into a pot-boiler and instead presents an impressionistic vision of adolescent disaffection.
Van Sant's approach to telling the story is formally brilliant. The director uses a number of cinematic techniques to capture the insouciance of a youthful existence. Paranoid Park is permeated with regular flashbacks that intrude on the real-time events, suggesting a temporal ambiguity. Every so often scenes are repeated from a new angle, or with new information apparent. Much of the film is shot using long takes (many directed upon the angelic features of the lead actor) that suggest Alex's heedless and untroubled attitude to the mundane events that colour his life. Shot composition and framing deliberately pushes Alex's parental figures into the background, highlighting their marginal influence in his affairs. Additionally, different forms of photography--grainy Super-8, fluid video and resonant 35mm--register different modes of reality within the film's story. Paranoid Park is a moody film in which its formal attributes reflect the protagonist's various states-of-mind. Although Van Sant's film is set in the real world (Portland, Oregon), the representation of that reality is infused with a poetry that situates it beyond the commonplace. This lyrical view of teenage angst separates the film from the more grittily realistic Kids (Larry Clark) which developed similar themes within the skateboarding subculture.
No other modern day American director is so at ease working within the Hollywood system (Good Will Hunting) and so effective at making art-house fare that explores the limits of conventional storytelling (Gerry and Last Days). Van Sant has always exhibited a keen interest in the formal practices of filmmaking. What seemed experimental in Gerry and Last Days--maddeningly long takes with little dialogue, detached characterisations and an indifference to plot--is central to the power of Paranoid Park. In fact, the way the film is made supersedes its modest narrative. The enjoyment experienced in watching this movie can be directly related to the ecstatic filmmaking. Connoisseurs of cinema as an art form will be enraptured by Van Sant's film. The regular sequences of skateboarding--both the fluid Super-8 footage and the home-movie style street skating scenes--afford equal attention to the majestic filmmaking techniques and the artistry of the skateboarding itself. Beauty comes in many forms in Paranoid Park. The cinematography (by Christopher Doyle) is all smooth transitions and languid long takes. The imagery is softly glowing, kissed by natural light effects. And the lead actor, Nevins, is a strikingly androgynous vision of handsomeness (recruited by Van Sant through MySpace, of all places!). Furthermore, the marriage of image and music is extraordinary; the eclectic score that ranges from death metal to classical, is one of the film's major highlights.
Paranoid Park is a great film because it is fresh and original and it challenges the boundaries of conventional cinema. There is no doubt that this is an art film, but Gus Van Sant has developed Paranoid Park within the confines of the teen genre movie. This mixing of the familiar with the alien is pleasurable because it appeals to a wide range of audiences; satisfying filmgoers who crave demanding fare and rewarding viewers who are willing to be challenged but also want to be entertained.
Taylor Momsen as Alex's peripheral girlfriend
Even though Alex is an enigma, the story at the centre of Paranoid Park is quite simple. Alex is a high-school student with a pretty girlfriend named Jennifer (Taylor Momsen). Alex likes to skateboard, although he's not confident in his ability. One day he and his friend, Jared (Jake Miller), visit a local skate-park known informally as "Paranoid Park". Later that week Alex returns, this time alone, and encounters some older skaters with whom he strikes up an instant connection. Buoyed by a sense of adventure, Alex agrees to set off with one of the group to buy beer and ride a freight train. During the escapade a railroad security worker is inadvertently killed. Alex is unsure of his role in the event and attempts to flee his responsibility, but the guilt of his involvement bears heavily upon him. His only outlet is his politically radical friend Macy (Lauren McKinney), with whom he shares a closer bond than his girlfriend. She advises him that whatever his concerns, he must release them, perhaps through the composition of a letter to her. The resulting correspondence is the crux of the film and is voiced in the film's oral commentary. This straightforward story offers rich possibility for overblown melodrama and suspense, particularly when a police detective (the softly spoken Richard Lu [Daniel Liu]) becomes involved. However, Van Sant wisely ignores the impulse to turn Paranoid Park into a pot-boiler and instead presents an impressionistic vision of adolescent disaffection.
Van Sant's approach to telling the story is formally brilliant. The director uses a number of cinematic techniques to capture the insouciance of a youthful existence. Paranoid Park is permeated with regular flashbacks that intrude on the real-time events, suggesting a temporal ambiguity. Every so often scenes are repeated from a new angle, or with new information apparent. Much of the film is shot using long takes (many directed upon the angelic features of the lead actor) that suggest Alex's heedless and untroubled attitude to the mundane events that colour his life. Shot composition and framing deliberately pushes Alex's parental figures into the background, highlighting their marginal influence in his affairs. Additionally, different forms of photography--grainy Super-8, fluid video and resonant 35mm--register different modes of reality within the film's story. Paranoid Park is a moody film in which its formal attributes reflect the protagonist's various states-of-mind. Although Van Sant's film is set in the real world (Portland, Oregon), the representation of that reality is infused with a poetry that situates it beyond the commonplace. This lyrical view of teenage angst separates the film from the more grittily realistic Kids (Larry Clark) which developed similar themes within the skateboarding subculture.
Alex looking bored and disaffected
No other modern day American director is so at ease working within the Hollywood system (Good Will Hunting) and so effective at making art-house fare that explores the limits of conventional storytelling (Gerry and Last Days). Van Sant has always exhibited a keen interest in the formal practices of filmmaking. What seemed experimental in Gerry and Last Days--maddeningly long takes with little dialogue, detached characterisations and an indifference to plot--is central to the power of Paranoid Park. In fact, the way the film is made supersedes its modest narrative. The enjoyment experienced in watching this movie can be directly related to the ecstatic filmmaking. Connoisseurs of cinema as an art form will be enraptured by Van Sant's film. The regular sequences of skateboarding--both the fluid Super-8 footage and the home-movie style street skating scenes--afford equal attention to the majestic filmmaking techniques and the artistry of the skateboarding itself. Beauty comes in many forms in Paranoid Park. The cinematography (by Christopher Doyle) is all smooth transitions and languid long takes. The imagery is softly glowing, kissed by natural light effects. And the lead actor, Nevins, is a strikingly androgynous vision of handsomeness (recruited by Van Sant through MySpace, of all places!). Furthermore, the marriage of image and music is extraordinary; the eclectic score that ranges from death metal to classical, is one of the film's major highlights.
Paranoid Park is a great film because it is fresh and original and it challenges the boundaries of conventional cinema. There is no doubt that this is an art film, but Gus Van Sant has developed Paranoid Park within the confines of the teen genre movie. This mixing of the familiar with the alien is pleasurable because it appeals to a wide range of audiences; satisfying filmgoers who crave demanding fare and rewarding viewers who are willing to be challenged but also want to be entertained.
