Wednesday, May 5, 2010

The Parking Lot Movie

The Parking Lot Movie (Directors: Meghan Eckman and Christopher Hlad): The Corner Parking Lot is loc­ated in Charlottesville, Virginia and, over the years, it’s developed into some­what of a local legend, based on the oddball cast of char­ac­ters who have inhab­ited its employ­ment ranks. The 2-acre plot of land, com­prised of little more than asphalt and a run-down, com­ic­ally small parking attendant booth, sur­rounded by rail­road tracks and the unsightly backs of build­ings, becomes the unlikely site for an exam­in­a­tion of class struggle, cap­it­alism, human inter­ac­tion, and con­sumer culture.

Such rumin­a­tions in The Parking Lot Movie come cour­tesy of the fringes-of-society, over­qual­i­fied workers who man the booth. “Man” is the appro­priate verb, too, as there isn’t a single woman to be found among the almost two dozen cur­rent and former employees who were inter­viewed. As first-time dir­ector Meghan Eckman explains in the film’s press kit, this was a reflec­tion of the fact that so few women have worked at the lot since it opened in 1986. A female per­spective would have been wel­come, if only to pos­sibly break up the con­stant stream of bitter, self-righteous, smug view­points from the male inter­viewees, which tend to blur together into a thick fog of neg­at­ivity that, frankly, just wore me down.

Most of the employees inter­viewed are uni­ver­sity gradu­ates and under­gradu­ates who majored in fields like philo­sophy, reli­gion, and anthro­po­logy, and the nature of the job affords them plenty of time to reflect on how the parking lot is really a micro­cosm of society. Their the­ories and obser­va­tions are highly intel­lec­tual, but bal­anced with hos­tile humour usu­ally rooted in barbs aimed at the lot’s more annoying cli­en­tele. The intended laughs from the screening audi­ence were delivered reg­u­larly, but I must admit to sit­ting in my seat stone-faced for most of the movie.

Working a lowly ser­vice sector job like theirs has enabled the lot attend­ants to see human beha­viour oper­ating at exas­per­at­ingly defi­cient levels, which are recalled with numerous examples involving boorish drunken frat boys and sor­ority girls, SUV drivers, Prius owners, and a steady supply of con­des­cending (and occa­sion­ally law-breaking) cus­tomers. I have no doubt it must be a frus­trating job to do, but the attend­ants’ vit­riol is delivered with such an elitist, snarky tone that it wasn’t dif­fi­cult to quickly find most of them as annoying as the easy tar­gets they were cri­ti­cizing. Also, con­sider the numerous state­ments with regard to being “gate­keepers” such as these: “In the parking lot we were dynamos. Whirlwinds. We were rulers. We had com­plete autonomy”, as well as “Did we play God in the parking lot? I guess we did play God”. And the film’s tagline is “It’s not just a parking lot, it’s a battle with humanity”. Despite the tongue-in-cheek delivery, it all becomes just a little much.

Eckman shot the movie with a 4:3 aspect ratio to mimic the claus­tro­phobic con­di­tions of sit­ting in the cramped attendant booth, which adds to the low-budget look of the movie and makes it feel even more like a real life Clerks (with a little less exist­en­tial philo­soph­izing). She might also want to revisit her decision to end the doc­u­mentary with a painful five minute rap video involving some of the attend­ants — it feels ama­teurish and jar­ringly out-of-step with the rest of the movie.

Official site of the film

2/10(2/10)

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The Invention of Dr. NakaMats

The Invention of Dr. NakaMats (Director: Kaspar Astrup Schröder): A sin­gu­larly unset­tling exper­i­ence, watching The Invention of Dr. NakaMats is like being dropped down a rabbit hole like Alice in Wonderland and won­dering if what you’re seeing with your eyes is real or ima­gined. Dr. Yoshiro Nakamatsu, or Dr. NakaMats as he calls him­self, is a Japanese inventor who claims to hold more than 3,000 pat­ents on everything from the floppy disk to karaoke. Like a cross between Willy Wonka and the Reverend Moon, he is cha­ris­matic and charming one minute, and creepily strange the next. The film fol­lows him in the days before his 80th birthday in 2008, pre­paring for a party where he will announce his latest invention.

Dr. NakaMats is tire­less at everything (and claims to sleep no more than 4 hours a night), but most of all he’s a tire­less self-promoter. He can also be incred­ibly vain. Always nat­tily dressed, he receives vis­itors in his office like sup­plic­ants, dis­pensing advice to all. I felt par­tic­u­larly sorry for the hotel employee who had to break the news that they couldn’t per­man­ently rename one of their ban­quet rooms the NakaMats Room on the occa­sion of his birthday party being held there.

The party itself is a hit, with a huge roomful of his admirers enjoying them­selves immensely. Beforehand, Dr. NakaMats intro­duces the assembled press to his new inven­tion, the B-Bust, a revolu­tionary kind of brassiere. But instead of showing them the product, he simply presents a busty woman wearing a dress. When asked if they can see the bra, he gives them a con­fusing non-answer and retreats to his birthday gathering.

Throughout the film’s brisk sub-60 minute run­ning time, the good doctor shows off more of his inven­tions, including engines that run on water and heat, his spe­cially for­mu­lated Brain Drink, and a mys­ter­ious libido-enhancing elixir for women called Love Jet. About Love Jet, he claims. “I’ve tested more than 10,000 women. Of course, I’m not doing the sex. I’m checking meters.” None of the inven­tions are examined in great detail, and I began to get the dis­tinct impres­sion that there is some­thing of the con man about Dr. NakaMats. While the audi­ence laughed (including me), there is def­in­itely some­thing very weird going on here.

Before I’d seen the film, I’d seen Dr. NakaMats him­self at sev­eral fest­ival events, posing for pic­tures and handing out his “lucky busi­ness card” to any and all who asked. What I began to notice more and more was the sullen pres­ence of his silent and long­suf­fering wife. Whether he’s a genius, a madman or a char­latan, it’s clear that an hour in his pres­ence is amusing, but a life­time might be some­thing else entirely.

Here is the Q&A with pro­ducer Mette Heide and Dr. NakaMats him­self from after the screening, con­ducted by Hot Docs Programming Manager Karina Rotenstein:

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Duration: 10:55

8/10(8/10)

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