Things I Know About The Movies

SmackDance: On The End

2012-01-27T09:31:00.000-08:00

--From Thursday, 1/26/2012

Dear Wide World,

This is it.

Here we go…

Today’s screenings:

Price Check: Perennial Sundance favorite Parker Posey plays Susan, a newly hired, incredibly manic boss who turns her department upside down and inside out, wreaking particular havoc on the life of nice guy/worker-bee Pete Cozy (Eric Mabius). She’s one of those charismatic managers who leaves no prisoners in her wake, while simultaneously making those around her desperate for her approval. For the most part, Price Check is . . . to keep reading at MovieSmackdown! click HERE.

Click HERE To visit the full SmackDance archive of posts from the Festival.

SmackDance: On Early Mornings at the End

2012-01-27T09:27:00.000-08:00

--From Wednesday, 1/25/2012

Dear Wide World,

Four screenings on the docket today, so let’s get to ’em:

Goats: A chance to go to this Sundance screening popped up at the last minute yesterday, when a colleague offered me an extra ticket, and I grabbed it, despite it’s 9 a.m. starting time. Goats is an entertaining look at . . . to keep reading at MovieSmackdown! click HERE.

Click HERE To visit the full SmackDance archive of posts from the Festival.

SmackDance: On Graffiti, Mental Athleticism, Comic Books and the French

2012-01-27T09:24:00.000-08:00

--From Tuesday, 1/24/2012

Dear Wide World,

Now that the weekend’s screenings and events are behind us, Park City’s a much quieter town. Personally, that’s just fine with me. As terrific as all excitement’s been, it’s nice to know I’ll be able to make it up Main Street to a screening without having to fight my way past a ton of people. It’s been warmer over the past few days, but, as I write this, it’s 18 degrees (F). That’s eighteen degrees, people. This is the kind of temperature at which your memories of the fourth grade start feeling the cold.

Now for today’s screening report . . . to keep reading at MovieSmackdown! click HERE.

Click HERE To visit the full SmackDance archive of posts from the Festival.

SmackDance: On Day 4

2012-01-24T15:04:00.000-08:00

--From Monday, 1/23/2012

Dear Wide World,

My quads are sore from walking uphill. My body grows weary of the late nights and early(ish) mornings. My… well… every fiber of my being resounds against trekking through the slush for hour after hour.

Am I having a great time? YES! There’s really nothing like Sundance for giving industry professionals the opportunity to meet, network and lay the groundwork for future collaboration. Today, I was able to attend a Filmmaker’s Brunch, a reception hosted by the Utah Film Commission, and a terrific party hosted by Telefilm. I also met one Paul Giamatti . . . to keep reading at MovieSmackdown! click HERE.

Click HERE To visit the full SmackDance archive of posts from the Festival.

SmackDance: On Recharging

2012-01-24T14:59:00.000-08:00

--From Sunday, 1/22/2012

Dear Wide World,

Fortunately, today was quite a bit warmer than the icy deluge that was Saturday night, and by warmer, I mean it was in the mid-30′s (F) with the sun out. It’s strange how fast one grows grateful for the slightest hint of sun when it’s been absent for any length of time. My Monday will be packed with screenings, receptions and post-events, but today (Sunday) evolved into an unexpected day to recharge my batteries. . . to keep reading at MovieSmackdown! click HERE.

Click HERE To visit the full SmackDance archive of posts from the Festival.

SmackDance: On Park City Under Siege

2012-01-23T07:19:00.000-08:00

--From Saturday, 1/21/2012

Dear Wide World,

It’s cold. No, it’s VERY cold. The first couple of days were relatively mild, with some light snowfall and rain. That’s all changed very quickly. I left the condo at 9:20 a.m., caught the bus to Main Street, and spent the next 10-15 minutes walking uphill with the snow in my face. Let’s just say I picked a lousy day to wear my glasses. My coat hat and gloves were soaked when I sat down for the first screening of the day, which was . . . to keep reading at MovieSmackdown! click HERE.

Click HERE To visit the full SmackDance archive of posts from the Festival.

SmackDance: On Jumping In

2012-01-21T14:46:00.000-08:00

--From Friday, 1/20/2012

Dear Wide World,

I am pleased to report that, despite spending more than 48 hours in an environment dominated by snow, I have not yet fallen victim to that horrible beast known to Californians as “the wipeout.” Sadly, not all members of my party have known my success in matters such as these, but I, above all else, count myself truly fortunate.

After day one, I’m on the board with four screenings at the Slamdance Film Festival, . . . to keep reading at MovieSmackdown! click HERE.

Click HERE To visit the full SmackDance archive of posts from the Festival.

SmackDance: On Arrival

2012-01-20T14:42:00.000-08:00

--From Thursday, 1/19/2012

Greetings from Park City, UT! The temperature’s currently 37 degrees Fahrenheit, the snow’s been falling fairly steadily, and the plows that clear that snow out are parked… yep, right outside the door of my condominium. Hello 6:00 a.m.! Ready to rock and roll?

The cinematic world is closing in on this little town even as I speak. Today’s a light day for me . . . to keep reading at MovieSmackdown! click HERE.

Podcasting: The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo

2012-01-02T11:11:00.000-08:00

Last week, Aaron Neuwirth, Alan Aguilera, a very special guest, and myself took some time out to talk about The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo on a very special episode of Out Now with Aaron and Abe. The evening provided for a surprisingly in-depth discussion, with a significant (and amply warned!) spoiler section.

So, if you can't get enough of Lisbeth Salander, the complete podcast is below.

1/1/2012

2012-01-01T14:19:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year. For me, 2011 was a strange bird, filled with incredibly lofty highs and terribly harsh lows. As always, I look forward to the chance, however arbitrary the waypoint, to start afresh.

2012 promises great things! In only a few short weeks, I'll be bringing you live coverage of both the Sundance Film Festival and Slamdance Film Festival direct from Park City, Utah. I'm so excited! Also, keep an eye out for my list of 2011's best films, as well as a special feature on one of the past year's most thought-provoking films.

I'm hoping to take the site in some new directions this year, and look forward to the opportunity to tell you about them in greater detail.

I'm very thankful for your support of Things I Know About The Movies over the last year. That a single person would take time out of a busy schedule to read something that I've written, particularly with millions of other options to choose from, isn't something I take for granted, and I'm sincerely grateful.

This isn't your typical site, and I recognize that. While other blogs are certainly more prolific, my commitment (to providing first-rate, first-person pieces on films that matter) remains the same. I have no desire to post subpar content just for the sake of posting content, and hope that you'll pardon my quiet stretches (which I hope to reduce!) to that end. If there's anything you'd like to see on the site, please don't hesitate to let me know.

More than anything, I enter the new year with a renewed commitment to cherish the special people in my life, because, more than anything, they're what make it worth living at all. I hope that you feel the same way.

Mazel tov!

-Adam

P.S. If you see something you like, don't forget to comment or share!

The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo (2011): Haven't We Met?

2011-12-23T10:25:00.000-08:00

We don’t live in a vacuum.

This makes reviewing David Fincher’s new film more challenging than it ought to be, because, as a global phenomenon, the late Stieg Larsson’s Millenium Trilogy is the biggest thing since the Harry Potter series. To date, the Trilogy’s first novel, The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo, has sold around 30 million copies worldwide, and the first film adaptation (which, you might recall, ended up at #4 on my list of 2010’s best films) set the stage for the adaptation of the rest of the trilogy in its mother tongue.

So, here’s the thing. We know the story, and we know it well.

As such, it’s tough to watch the American interpretation without sitting with a mental checklist firmly at the forefront of the cranium, with telepathic pen ready to mark off what’s improved, unimproved, the same and completely different.

It’s not entirely fair, and I admit that freely. I’d like to have been able to watch the new film without any baggage and be able to report to you on exactly what it accomplishes on its own merits, but that’s just not possible.

So, what do we know?

For one, that the story is mostly the same. I’ve made the assumption that it’s one you know, but, of course, you might have been living under a rock, for which you have my pity and the following: Mikhail Blomkvist, the recently disgraced editor of Millenium magazine, takes a job to solve the 40 year old murder of millionaire tycoon Henrik Vanger’s niece, Harriet. After various twists and turns, he finds himself working with Lisbeth Salander, a brilliant, troubled hacker with a knack for collecting and interpreting information. What neither of them realize is how deeply the trail goes, and how much they will be changed by the journey.

The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo looks fantastic. Fincher’s attention to detail and commitment to craftsmanship certainly don’t go amiss, even if he doesn’t take the material as far down as he might have. There are some sinister, sinister goings on here, and that Fincher chooses not to linger on, shall we say, certain instances of depravity is a bit of a surprise, particularly given where his sensibilities have taken him in the past. It certainly doesn’t descend to the moral or visual depths that he’s capable of, most notably in his darkest (and I’d argue best) film, Se7en. Personally, I feel that Niels Arden Oplev’s 2009 film hit harder insofar as shocks go, which is surprising, given Fincher’s skill for unsettling an audience. Ironically, I’d heard that there was talk that MPAA was considering giving The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo an NC-17 rating. It’s an idea that I find laughable, because, if any Fincher film should have an NC-17 rating, it’s Se7en. In this one, the action onscreen never really goes past atypical R-rated content, though it’s certainly a “hard” R.

One of the highlights of the film is the work of editors Kirk Baxter and Angus Wall. The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo is one of the better edited films I’ve seen in years. As the story’s told from both Mikail and Lisbeth’s vantage points, the editors do a terrific job of linking the two when they’re not sharing the screen. What’s more, they take their continuity cues from various sources. A lingering or abrasive sound in one scene can serve as a link to the next, or a moving shot toward one object might be where it jumps off into the next scene with a similar visual. It becomes more natural as the story progresses and Mikail and Lisbeth come closer in both physical and emotional proximity. More than anything, it’s Baxter and Wall who help to provide The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo with its strong sense of rhythm. It may be over 2 ½ hours long but moves along very well, if not quite with the zippy pacing of Inglourious Basterds, the single zippiest 2 ½ hour movie I can recall.

Composers Atticus Ross and Trent Reznor play a big part in maintaining the film’s fluid continuity. Their work here and in The Social Network provide for some of the more exciting advances being made in contemporary film scoring. I think that Ross and Reznor’s two film scores to date continue a trend that began with Johnny Greenwood’s score for 2007’s There Will Be Blood, even if Greewood’s work is nearly traditional by comparison. With Ross and Reznor, their emphasis is on using music as a kind of invisible, referential sequence of sounds rather than as a collection of recognizable themes and motifs. While I don’t think that you’re going to be able to walk out of the theater and hum a single bar of the score, its influence upon the narrative is unmistakable.

The single best thing about The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo is the same thing that stood out in the Swedish original: Lisbeth Salander. She’s one of the strongest characters to hit the screen in years, and, as written, is remarkably compelling regardless of who’s playing her. I’m exaggerating, but it’s almost as though a paper sack could play Lisbeth and be incredibly effective. She’s that well-written of a character. While Lisbeth’s so tightly wound up to try and keep anyone from hurting her, there’s also a twinge of an idealist in there too. She’s the type that keeps her head down so nobody sees her face, but just can’t help peeking up at the stars.

Rooney Mara brings a very different sensibility to the part than Noomi Rapace did, and that’s not something I was quite expecting. For one, Mara’s got a much slighter physique, which, while Rapace isn’t bulky by any means, certainly changed the way I viewed the character. Where Rapace was withdrawn, introspective, and intensely private, Mara has a certain openness that’s unique to her take on Lisbeth. Daniel Craig, on the other hand, is fine, but it’s very much the same brooding action everyman that we’ve gotten used to seeing him play in every film he’s in. It’s not a bad act, certainly, but I’d like to see him branch out a little bit and try and play a few different notes on that piano.

A notable difference between the two films is the chemistry between the two leads. With Craig and Mara, Blomkvist seems to be the dominant one in the relationship, but with Nykvist and Rapace, it’s definitely Salander. Personally, I’d have to give the chemistry edge to Nykvist and Rapace. The way that their relationship evolved seemed more authentic and consistent with who they were and the influence of their life experiences upon their ability to interact with others. Mara and Craig, while a solid pair, don’t quite have the same cohesion, and there were moments when I felt that Mara’s Salander had a dependence on Blomkvist in a way that wasn’t entirely consistent with who I knew the character to be.

There are a few changes in the script that provide for a bit of a different effect than the original had. In particular, there’s a significant change to the story’s ending. Fortunately, it’s one that works, even if the staging of the initial reveal is poorly managed and dilutes what should be a pretty powerful moment. Additionally, where the Swedish film left out the novel’s affecting final scene, writer Steven Zaillian left it in, and ends the film on a poignant note that I think really does it credit.

Ultimately, The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo is stylishly engaging and a worthy adaptation of a story that now belongs to the world. If it’s not quite up the standard set by the 2009 film, it’s consistently entertaining and I hope it does the kind of box office that will be needed to ensure that Fincher gets the chance to make the remaining films in the trilogy.

I don’t often choose to see a film more than once theatrically, but I’m thinking that I might make another trip for this one. In my book, Lisbeth Salander is such a terrific character that any chance to spend some time following her around is time well spent.

I'm hooked, ok?

4 stars (out of 5)

Linkage: Podcasting & Sherlock Holmes

2011-12-20T17:30:00.000-08:00

For yours truly, the past few weeks have been busy ones on the cinematic front.

Out Now With Aaron and Abe: Episode 38 - The Artist with Aaron Neuwirth, Mark Hobin, Alan Aguilera, and myself.
My new piece for Movie Smackdown! on Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows.

New reviews of some 2011 heavy-hitters coming soon.

-Adam

My Week With Marilyn - The Young Man in the 22nd Row Tells All

2011-12-03T19:29:00.000-08:00

When your name is Harvey Weinstein and you’re looking to figure prominently in the discussion around the award show water cooler at year’s end, you push out a biopic. The Aviator. Finding Neverland. Miss Potter. Factory Girl. Nowhere Boy. The King’s Speech. Pick any of those, and you're still not past 2004.

Now, don’t get me wrong, there really aren’t many drawbacks to making biopics. Studios love them because they’re usually able to get a big name actor to play whichever historical figure’s on the docket, stand a very good chance at making some dough, and might get some hardware. Actors love them because if they prove to be particularly good at mimicry, wearing that prosthetic nose, and bringing that historical figure to life, they stand a good chance of gaining a ton of critical recognition and, yes, getting some hardware. Audiences love them because they usually get to enjoy a rags-to-riches story and have the opportunity to feel better about all of the times they fell asleep in high school when they were supposed to be learning about these folks in the first place.

2011, in particular, has so many biopics as to inspire washed-up conspiracy theorists everywhere to come out of retirement. Initially, My Week With Marilyn wasn’t something I was particularly enthusiastic about, particularly when compared to something like J. Edgar, The Iron Lady, or A Dangerous Method. But, as fate would have it, it was the first that I had the chance to see and, for whatever reason, I got pretty excited about seeing it. I think I unexpectedly fell a little bit in love with Michelle Williams after seeing the adverts so many times.

My Week With Marilyn tells the story of Colin Clark, a 24 year old British aristocrat with a dream of working in the movie business. After working his connections, he becomes third assistant director on the set of Laurence Olivier’s The Prince and the Showgirl, a starring vehicle for Sir Laurence and Marilyn Monroe. When Marilyn starts to crumble underneath pressures both personal and professional, she and Colin form an unlikely connection and spend a bit of a “lost week” together.

As promising as that sounds, it seems to me that the primary thing that holds the film back is that it's told from the perspective of the young man, Colin, instead of the movie star, Marilyn. I think that it would have been much more effective and infinitely more interesting to have been able to start with her, stay with her, and see exactly what made her tick and what caused her idiosyncrasies.

To that end, while watching the film, there were a ton of times that I really wanted to get some sense of what exactly was in her head. There are moments when she seems so lost and so overwhelmed, and then there are others in which she seems to be in complete control of her image. I wish there had been some dot connectors to point out where the woman ended and the movie star began.

For what she was given, Michelle Williams (who's sure to get a ton of award nominations and maybe a few statuettes) is really good. While she’s a terrific choice to play the actress formerly known as Norma Jeane Baker, sadly, I don’t think the script fully equips her to bring her complete set of talents to bear. It’s not Williams being inconsistent so much as it’s Simon Curtis’ script that’s incomplete.

As for Eddie Redmayne’s turn as Colin Clark, it’s solid, but the half-baked script holds him back too. At the beginning of the film, he seemed to be a bit of a greenback. You know, means well but doesn’t have a lot of practical life or work experience? Well, the kid decides to park his keister on the couch of Olivier’s production company’s office until he’s given some kind of job to do. Good, right? Shows initiative. But when he’s finally given a task by the film producer, he handles it, we’re led to believe, without any problems at all. Uh, hello! He was asked to get NOEL COWARD’s number, which, I might add, he’s told is unlisted. That’s no small thing. How about a moment a la Anne Hathaway in The Devil Wears Prada? It’s a real chance to gain more insight into his character. How does he get stuff like that done? While we see him get them into Windsor Castle later through a family connection, we have no idea how he gets that pesky number. Did he rely on another connection? Did he struggle before finally getting it done? Was he really just that good? I’d have liked to have seen that process outlined rather than being given “BOOM, it’s done!” as an answer.

I get it. Boy meets movie star. Boy falls hopelessly in love with movie star. On that level, his performance is very effective, but, as with Williams', more was needed. I know that the scene I’ve described might seem petty and inconsequential in the big picture, but it would have contributed significantly to fleshing out his character and making him that much more three-dimensional instead of relying on such a simplistic character outline.

The rest of the cast is uniformly solid, with particular props going to a scene-stealing Kenneth Branagh as Lawrence Olivier. He’s fantastic, and I hope he gets some much-deserved love at year’s-end. Judi Dench is really good too, and has a wonderful line about how much mascara a woman should wear. However, the one person that completely surprised me was Dougray Scott. It struck me that the guy playing Arthur Miller was really believable, but I had no idea whatsoever that it was Scott until the end credits. Seeing Julia Ormond (one of my favorites!) pop up as Vivien Leigh was a nice surprise too. After The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, Temple Grandin, and The Music Never Stopped, it seems like she’s back.

Lastly, I think My Week With Marilyn ends one (or two, if you count the end credit musical sequence) scene too late. There’s a wonderful shot of Colin staring at a blank movie screen in a small theater that seemed announced itself as the film’s final shot . . . and then things continued with a bit that’s supposed to tie things off in a knot when I think, ironically, a messier approach would have served the film better. By that point, by all intents and purposes, the film was done, and to try and spell everything out was the wrong choice.

It’s really too bad. While My Week With Marilyn isn’t a bad film and certainly isn’t unenjoyable by any stretch, a real opportunity’s been missed here. It strikes me as a bit odd that we’ve got a definitive look at the formation of Facebook on the books, but there’s no authoritative piece on the life of one of the cinema’s biggest stars.

There’s a wonderful scene in the middle of the picture. Colin is sent to a much-the-worse-for-wear Marilyn’s dressing room to find out what’s keeping her from the set. He gets starstruck, and ends up revealing that one of his jobs is, essentially, to spy on her. A bleary-eyed Marilyn looks up at him and asks, “Colin, whose side are you on?” He looks back at her, eyes wide with a heart no longer his own, and says, “Yours, Miss Monroe.” I only wish that My Week With Marilyn had been able to say the same thing.

3 1/2 stars (out of 5)

BACK!

2011-11-27T16:22:00.000-08:00

Well, friends, it has been a while, hasn’t it? The past few months have seen me quite busy in some respects and quite lacking in the blogging persuasion in a lot of others. In a simple man’s English, I’ve had stuff on my plate, but have been mostly more complacent than I care to admit.

However! There are some new developments that you need to know about, aside from my usual recommitment to a newfound undying enthusiasm to blog and blog and blog.

I’m now a contributor to Movie Smackdown!, a site with the unique predisposition to put a new flick in the ring with an “old” one to see which is better. You know, essentially reviewing two movies at once. It’s an interesting challenge, and I’m grateful to be on board. Currently, you can find my pieces on Puss In Boots and Immortals on the site, with more to come. I’ll be sure to post links to any new Smacks here as well, and would be most grateful for any reading, commenting, rating, and sharing you feel up to.

Also, over the past several months, I’ve been fortunate enough to become a regular guest contributor to Out Now With Aaron and Abe, which, you might recall, was the podcast I guested on back in June to break down The Tree of Life. Currently, you can find our Art House/Indie Showcase 2011 Spectacular on the site, with a rich back catalog of podcasts to enjoy.

Enjoy, my droogs. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got a screening to get to.

-Adam

The Tree of Life, 3 Intelligent Gentlemen, and Me

2011-06-10T20:36:00.000-07:00

A few days ago, Aaron of The Code Is Zeek and I were discussing The Tree of Life, and he invited me to be part of a round table discussion of the film on his podcast, Out Now With Aaron and Abe. Having a chance to discuss the film with Aaron and his other guests, Mark Hobin of Fast Film Reviews and Jordan Grout (of a blog whose creation is imminent), was great fun, and the conversation proved enlightening. Below, you'll find the podcast in its entirety. Beware, spoilers abound!

THE PODCAST!

The Tree of Life – Looking Through the Eyes of the Almighty

2011-06-04T20:29:00.000-07:00

To watch The Tree of Life is to look through the eyes of god. For a being like that, time would have no meaning and even less value. To see the beginning of the universe would be of no more difficulty than to look at the life of one person or onward to the end of days. The truth of what people are feeling and thinking would become apparent, even as they express the opposite. To describe the narrative, I cannot get around the fact that the film is much more like a poem than a story. Poems use language to try to burrow inside of an emotional reality. This is not the same as the way things actually “are.” In the world you and I live in, people can’t fly, the Light Brigade is long dead, and we don’t have the chance to talk with people who have died. But in a poem, you can say anything that you need to say, and you can do it in any way that you want to.

Terrence Malick is clearly very, very sincere. This is a personal film above all else, and I mean that as a compliment. It takes courage to put one's deepest emotions out for all to see as explicitly as Malick has done. Normally, when discussions begin of cinematic bravery, they relate to an artist’s commitment to tackling material that’s widely thought of as difficult. I wonder, however, if there is any material more difficult than the honest exploration of what one truly thinks and feels about the nature of love, life, death, spirituality, and the universe itself. These are the deepest things that a person can hold within. It is so easy to laugh and poke fun at someone when he/she is being sincere, and the vulnerability with which Malick has opened himself is something that has my deepest admiration.

The Tree of Life tells the story of the lives of the O’Brien family in Waco, Texas in the 1950’s, that most misunderstood of modern American decades. Mr. & Mrs. O’Brien (Brad Pitt and Jessica Chastain) have three boys and very different ideas about how to raise them. Mr. O’Brien clearly loves his family, but has no idea how to properly express it as a husband and father. He’s never done this before, and it’s heartbreakingly obvious. There are a number of times where he’s shown playing with his sons, but I think they’re already so resentful and/or scared of him that it’s too little, too late. At the same time, he’s undoubtedly a passionate person. He truly wants his children to learn the things that he felt he never did or learned too late, and his love of music is the most tangible of any of his expressions of love. While Mrs. O’Brien loves her children and is clearly their emotional center, I think they resent the fact that she lets her husband do what he wants without standing up for them. There’s only so much a person can stand of being told how much he/she is loved to his/her face without it being proved when it matters most.

While the family has five members, the narrative revolves mostly around Jack (Hunter McCracken/Sean Penn), the oldest son. His transformation is something that resonated with me. I can clearly remember the day that my internal life changed forever. Overnight, I went from being a carefree kid to an adolescent dealing with thoughts and emotions much too complicated for him. Like Jack, there was nothing I wanted more than to get back to where I’d been before, to somehow find a way to navigate myself back to the space I’d occupied where the only thing I had to worry about was whether or not I’d like what was being served for dinner. I was so desperate then. What no child ever realizes at first is that one cannot go back. There is no way to unlearn, barring illness or senility, what it is to be an adult and to have to deal with things heretofore relegated to the “grown up” and “mature.”

The Tree of Life is a study in mirrors, types, and shadows. At the outset, the family learns that their middle son is dead. It’s a devastating moment in their lives, both individually and collectively, and I don’t think it’s one that they ever fully recover from. From there, the film moves into dazzlingly abstract territory to the formation of the universe. It’s beautiful to look at, and I’ve never seen VFX used in quite this way before. Some shots are so beautiful as to appear to be footage taken by the likes of the Hubble Telescope. After the creation of the earth, the long-awaited (and til this point rumored) dinosaurs emerge. Yes, you heard right. Dinosaurs. It’s all right. Go with it. Then, the meteor strikes, and life on earth is irrevocably changed. After that, things shift to the formation of the family. We see the birth of the children, and we get a sense of the rhythm of their daily lives. The only difference is that we already know what their meteor will be. We know exactly what will change their lives forever.

So much of the film is a conversation with god. Even as Jack is saying his nightly prayers, with the obligatory “make me a good boy” and so on, we hear his heart. “Where are you? Do you see me?” One of the most significant bits for me occurred when he says “I’m not going to try and be good. You aren’t.” As the universe is being born, we hear Mrs. O’Brien asking god why it has allowed evil to befall those who try to be righteous. That most ancient of questions. A preoccupation of some of the surviving members of the family is speaking with their deceased son/brother, and there’s an interesting malleability of names and subjects at work here. At times, it’s unclear if who’s being addressed is the dead boy or god itself.

The way that Terrence Malick and his cinematographer, Emmanuel Lubezki, have shot the film is dazzling, even virtuosic. The camera (and, by extension, the film’s rhythm at times) is so fluid as to seem to be alive. It flies, swoops and swirls like a force of nature all its own. There are a half-dozen directors I’d like to make study Malick’s work here to learn how to create a sense of motion without cutting every 2 seconds. There are some gorgeous shots that make better use of a crane than just about anyone I’ve seen. The camera glides down hallways, often turning to look at the scenery with a mind all its own. But motion, endless motion, is what Malick seems to be striving for here.

It didn’t strike me until a little bit after the film was over, but the “dramatic” climax of the film occurs so early in the film as to sneak right past the viewer. It’s a few words spoken over the phone in an elevator that become a brief moment of connection in an attempt to rectify the past. It’s a rare moment of near-irony in a piece that exists almost completely in the absence of insincerity.

In The Tree of Life, fantasy and reality collide, the past, present, and future are interchangeable, and the inner lives of a few common people are expanded in bright, bold relief. Ultimately, Terrence Malick is using the lives of one family in Waco, Texas as a microcosm of the life and death of the universe itself. I know that it sounds incredibly pretentious to put it like that, but it’s true. People are born and they die, often for no discernable reason. What’s left is for the living to go on, treasuring the memories they have, picking up the pieces that are left, and making the most of every precious fragment that remains.

One of 2011's best films.

4 1/2 stars (out of 5)

Midnight In Paris - A Landaulet 184 Is Just As Good As A Pumpkin Coach

2011-06-03T11:57:00.001-07:00

Unlike many, I’m the guy who’s enjoyed many of Woody Allen’s recent films. There’s a large number of folks, critics and regular janes alike, who think that, with a few fingers worth of notable exceptions, his post-2000 output has really sucked. While I don’t think that much of his recent work (Vicky Cristina Barcelona aside) is on par with his work in the 60’s, 70’s, and 80’s, there’ve been some really fun pieces in the bunch.

Regardless of one’s position on the post-millenial Woodster, Midnight In Paris is a delight, filled with laughs, beautiful photography, and surprisingly valid insights into human behavior. Per one of his usual aesthetics, the hero is an insecure writer in an unfulfilling relationship. Gil (Owen Wilson) is a successful screenwriter with very real insecurities about his literary ambitions. In Paris with his fiancé, he’s forced to spend time with her unfriendly parents and insufferable friends until a fateful moment at midnight where he finds himself in a random classic car headed for a party (well, a BUNCH of parties) in 1920’s Paris. Suddenly Gil’s spending his days with a bunch of people he likes less and less, and his nights with his literary heroes.

Crazy setup, right? Wrong! Surprisingly, the whole thing really works. Wilson’s “aw, shucks. Me?” schtick is really effective when he starts running into Hemingway, Fitzgerald, Picasso, and Stein. (and a wonderfully funny Adrien Brody taking a turn as Salvador Dali) He can’t believe he’s meeting these people, and we can’t believe our good fortune at getting to see him meet them. Over and over, just when he doesn’t think it can get any better, it does just that.

Additionally, Woody’s dialogue is just the kind of thing you’d expect. What’s wonderful about it (well, one of many such things) is that Woody doesn’t look down on his audience. Will you know who everyone is that Gil meets? Unless you’re smarter than this writer, which is a real possibility, probably not. Despite that, much as in the case of Marshall McLuhan in Annie Hall, knowing everything about these people isn’t the point. When Hemingway starts to wax eloquent (as he often does here) about bravery and courage, it’s funny. When he gets drunk and asks Adriana (Marion Cottilard) if she’s ever shot at a charging lion, you laugh out loud.

One of the things I love most about Midnight In Paris is the good, solid look it takes at the human tendency to ignore the good things to be found in the present because of a belief in the glory of an idealized past. See, when we look back, the rose-colored glasses come on. We don’t remember going to bed hungry. We remember that “times were hard, but we were happy!” So, for Gil, the artistic community of Paris in the 20’s is exactly where he thinks he wants to be, but what would he actually do there? Would you really be willing to throw away (because, yes, that’s exactly what you’d be doing) your life if you could go “back?” I think that, a few days after arriving, we’d realize that we were in a place just as crummy as the one we came from, albeit with a far less efficient plumbing system. I’d also argue that we’d want to get back to where we once belonged as soon as possible, but not because of penicillin and Facebook. Nope. We’d want to be there because of the people in our lives that give meaning to the often lousy situations we find ourselves in. I might regret not having valued things in my past like I should have, but if I went back, far too much would be lost in the transfer. Now, if you’re wanting to send me back about 30 years with enough money to do some investing in some little companies called Microsoft and Apple . . . well, then we can talk.

I’m very pleased to see such a strong piece of work after the limp, blandly uninteresting screenhog that was You Will Meet A Tall Dark Stranger. In many ways, Midnight In Paris is closest to The Purple Rose of Cairo in the Allen canon, but that’s a topic for another day. I did feel that the ending snuck up on me, much like the case of The Social Network. In both cases, I would have happily stayed in my seat for another half hour to see where the story might go. With Midnight In Paris, I felt that there was a bit more that could have been explored in the end, but, in the days since seeing the film, it’s bothered me less and less.

Currently, Midnight In Paris is in limited release, but I’d recommend that you make the effort to seek it out. You won’t be disappointed.

4 stars (out of 5)

2011 Cannes Film Festival - Awards

2011-05-23T08:37:00.000-07:00

Every year, the Cannes Film Festival opens my eyes.

While I do my best to keep up with the wide world of cinema, it’s a frontier that’s continuously expanding. For me, Cannes’ official selection serves as a barometer to point out the artists and films I ought to be paying attention to. It’s easy enough to keep track of the 5-10 American films that will receive a ton of marketing money from major studios in their turn as eventual (though painfully obvious) Oscar bait.

Were it not for Cannes, it’s possible I might still not have found my way into the work of Jean-Pierre and Luc Dardenne, Pedro Almodovar, Michael Haneke, Wong Kar-Wai, Abbas Kiarostami, Mike Leigh, Ken Loach, Olivier Assayas, Cristian Mungiu, or Lars von Trier. That’s a long list of some of contemporary cinema’s most influential artists, and they don’t receive exposure on most mainstream media channels. Even with some websites and publications expressly devoted to film, there’s a tendency toward Anglo-centrism and films funded by major American studios. Sure, sometimes they’ll go highbrow and talk about period pieces featuring characters speaking with British accents (even if they’re supposed to be ancient Romans or something), but I don’t really think that counts.

For my money, the films that need to be sought out are often the ones that matter in the grand scheme of things. As recently as last year, my pick for the best film of 2010, Certified Copy, was one that I was initially exposed to through Cannes.

Unfortunately, I (for whom the Festival circuit is, in some regard, my business) have never had the opportunity to go to Cannes in person. However, a colleague of mine made the trip only days after we attended an 8-day U.S. Festival, and I’m hoping to bring you some of his thoughts on what he saw in the near future.

So, in what seemed to be a particularly strong year for the films In Competition, here are the films/artists rewarded by Robert De Niro’s jury at the 2011 Cannes Film Festival.

FEATURE FILMS

· Palme d'Or

THE TREE OF LIFE directed by Terrence MALICK

(Easily one of if not THE most anticipated film(s) of the Festival. I truly believe that if any filmmaker remains who’s capable of making a single film that attempts to encompass things like life, love, death, innocence, spirituality, and mankind’s place in the universe, it’s Terrence Malick. While I don’t yet know if his film is successful to that end, the fact that he’s got a chance at all is not to be underestimated. It opens in New York and Los Angeles this week, and I hope to have a review up within the next 10 days.)

· Grand Prix Ex-aequo (tie)

BIR ZAMANLAR ANADOLU'DA (ONCE UPON A TIME IN ANATOLIA) directed by Nuri Bilge CEYLAN

(My experience with Ceylan is somewhat limited. Climates is gorgeous from a visual standpoint, but is sadly inert dramatically. However, Once Upon A Time In Anatolia picked up some strong late buzz at the Festival.)

· LE GAMIN AU VÉLO (THE KID WITH A BIKE) directed by Jean-Pierre et Luc DARDENNE

(Ah, the Dardennes’ streak continues! Having twice won the Palme d’Or, a third would have been unprecedented. By all indications, The Kid With A Bike generated strong support as an archetypical Dardenne film that departs from their usual aesthetic in a few key areas. Along with The Tree of Life, this is the film I’m most looking forward to out of Cannes.)

· Award for Best Director

Nicolas WINDING REFN for DRIVE

(I've heard mixed things about Drive, and to see it win this award was a bit of a surprise. I'd thought that either Malick or Almodovar were the real contenders for this one.)

· Award for Best Screenplay

Joseph CEDAR for HEARAT SHULAYIM (Footnote)

(This one didn't pop up on the radar screen either way as far as buzz goes, but on the list it goes.)

· Award for Best Actress

Kirsten DUNST in MELANCHOLIA directed by Lars VON TRIER

(For some reason, Dunst is often disparaged as actress, which I don’t really understand. I’m pleased for this win on that level. Maybe now her detractors will take the opportunity to reexamine her work. I’m also grateful that the jury didn’t allow von Trier’s rocky press conference to dissuade them from keeping Melancholia in consideration.)

· Award for Best Actor

Jean DUJARDIN in THE ARTIST directed by Michel HAZANAVICIUS

(By all intents and purposes, The Artist is probably the 2011 Festival’s most beloved film. It’ll be interesting to see if/how a silent film breaks into the popular consciousness, but, if I know Harvey Weinstein, it’ll do just fine.)

· Jury Prize

POLISSE (POLISS) directed by MAÏWENN

(I’ve heard mixed things about this one. Apparently, there were some catcalls in the press room when the film won. It's a reminder that the winners are determined by a group of people largely set apart from the rest of the viewing audience. At 35, Maiwenn’s the youngest director with a film in competition. If anything, it’ll definitely be worth a look.)

SHORT FILMS

· Palme d'Or - Short Film

CROSS (CROSS - COUNTRY) directed by Maryna VRODA

· Jury Prize - Short Film

BADPAKJE 46 (SWIMSUIT 46) directed by Wannes DESTOOP

----

An aside: traditionally, I only get to see the award ceremony after the fact. This genius got to thinking: "It's 2011. There has to be some way to stream this thing, even for a square like me." Thanks to a couple of Tweeters to whom I shall remain forever indebted, I found my way to a site streaming the show live. One problem. When watching the show the next day on Cannes' official site, the linguistics are adjusted per the language you selected upon entering. Hence, when they're speaking in English, there's no translation, but when it switches, the translator comes in to keep things smooth. This stream had no such preconception. It was French to the bone. So, imagine my fun as I tried to sift through Kirsten Dunst's speech (in English) as it was being overdubbed with a French translation. I really need to learn French. 10 words isn't nearly enough.

A second aside: Mélanie Laurent was a beautiful host for the opening and closing ceremonies, and she kept things running smoothly. Seems that graceful efficiency is the name of the game. The Academy should take notice. If you'd like to see it, the entire closing ceremony can now be streamed from their site (with the proper translation!).

Linkage: Gold Statues, Authentic Fakery, & Very Nice

2011-03-04T23:32:00.000-08:00

Manohla Dargis, one of my favorite film critics, went to the Oscars for the first time on Sunday. Here's her take on the show and the public's fascination with award shows in general.

Oscars' Red Carpet (Parallel Universe)

Pablo Villaça's thoughts on Certified Copy, my favorite film of 2010, and the self-sustaining logic that governs characterization in dramatic narrative.

But didn't they just now meet?

A fascinating discussion with one of the finest actresses of our time.

Isabelle Huppert - interviewed by Robert Chalmers

2011 Academy Award Wrap-up: March of the Underachievers

2011-02-28T20:20:00.001-08:00

Has there been a less interesting Oscars in recent memory? I’m not sure that I’d go as far as many folks have and call it the worst in history, but almost everything about the show screamed “We’re not really trying!”

The hosts: I haven’t been a big fan of replacing the atypical Oscar host with these newfangled experiments of having various pretty people do the job. I’m almost inclined to offer Steve Martin and Alec Baldwin an apology for picking on them last year. They were Abbott and Costello compared to James Franco and Anne Hathaway. It’s strange. I had a good feeling about these two. When the show started with the obligatory homage to all of the year’s big movies, I felt genuine hope that this show was going to be really fun. Hathaway’s “dance of the brown duck” was hilarious, and the montage as a whole had a nice rhythm to it. What’s more, IT WAS FUNNY, which was a luxury that Franco and Hathaway would soon be no longer capable of affording. The opening “monologue” (or should I call it an “opening dialogue?”) was ludicrously short and woefully unfunny. Hathaway was quick to establish herself as the purportedly funny one to Franco’s straight man, but she came across as much too hammy, while Franco just didn’t show up. I’m not sure if he was high or what was going on, but a guy with a lot of natural energy/charisma was doing his best Dustin Hoffman impression. One bright spot: Hathaway’s zinger of a song directed at Hugh Jackman. THAT was funny. I just didn’t know that it would be the last laugh the hosts would provide. Having two of Hollywood’s prettiest, most charming people host was a nice idea, but this experiment was a gargantuan dud. Grade: D.

Bad Ideas:

Letting Melissa Leo speak without a script. She reprised her Space Cadet role from the Golden Globes without a second thought. I know that she’d just had one of the biggest shocks/surprises/gifts of her life thrown in her lap, but c'mon.
Kirk Douglas going on and on and on and on. I’ve got a lot of respect for the man, and it was funny at first, but then it just kept going to the point that I started to feel sorry for him.
The strange segues back to classic films. Wait, wait, we need to present an award, let’s talk about Gone With The Wind first! I love that film, but what’s going on???
Turning the backdrop for the Animated film categories into Far, Far Away and teasing me with “Look, there’s Shrek!” . . . WITHOUT ACTUALLY PRODUCING A GREEN OGRE. Look, having a character or two present that category is a time-honored tradition, so why must they torment me with something that might have actually been entertaining???
Having all of the night’s winners pop out on stage at the end. I dug the kid’s choir, but having everyone come back to the stage with their little gold men almost makes you expect to hear, “Ladies and gentlemen, the graduating class of 2011!”

Now, I’ve got to take some time to point out some particularly egregious decisions. These are things for which a simple bullet point just won’t do.

The telecast’s direction: Once again, the folks in that little truck let us down. I’ve spent some time directing various things live in studio, so I do have some concept of how difficult it can be. That said, these are professionals with about 2 million cameras/shots to choose from. Should they really need to be told that a shot of people walking in front of the camera during a montage is a bad idea? When Javier Bardem and Josh Brolin walked out, they stopped for a few seconds to waltz. Did I get to see it happen? No, because we cut to a reaction shot of some star or another. Gee, don’t you think it’d make more sense to show us what’s going on and THEN cut to the crowd for about a second or two before cutting BACK to the action? Just saying.

Tom Hooper: The decision to award this man the Best Director Oscar is a baffling one, but I’ll tell you exactly how he won. Dude got lucky. Right place, right time, right movie. It’s still a bad choice. Hooper’s annoyed me as a director for years. Elizabeth I is one of the worst miniseries I’ve ever seen, and John Adams (mostly) succeeds despite his decidedly questionable direction. (I swear, if I have to look at ONE more establishing shot tilted by 45 degrees . . .) I’m hard-pressed to find anything about The King’s Speech that sets it apart from any other WWII period piece, aside from the wonderful script. Darren Aronofsky made Black Swan what it is. The Coen Bros. made True Grit what it is. David Fincher had a large part in making The Social Network what it is. What did Tom Hooper do exactly? I sure don’t know.

The King’s Speech: Look, it’s a nice movie and all, but that’s it. I’m surprised to see the Academy fall for such a clear case of Oscar bait. British? Check. Period piece? Check. WWII? Check. Nazis? Check. Hero overcoming adversity? Check. The King’s Speech is very much a by-the-books historical drama that doesn't do anything that hasn't already been done. Even in the case of Slumdog Millionaire, another winner I felt was undeserving, I can at least see why the film won. With this one, I just don't get it. It's not that I dislike the film. I just don't think that it's anywhere CLOSE to being the best film of the year. It sure pays off to be under Harvey Weinstein’s wing.

Bright spots ('cause there actually were a few):

Cate Blanchett going off the script by saying that the makeup/visual effects used in The Wolfman were “gross.”
Billy Crystal showing up. It was like tossing a line to a drowning audience. They were so excited to see him that you could almost hear the wheels turning, “YES YES YES! A host who knows what he’s doing! Can you stick around for the rest of the show?”
Aaron Sorkin’s speech. They tried to play him off, which was remarkable. You do not play AARON SORKIN off the stage. To his credit, he never missed a beat in a well-paced, articulate speech that actually seemed to thank everyone he wanted to.
David Seidler’s speech. Funny, charming, and touching, which is everything an Oscar speech should be.
Luke Matheny’s speech (Best Short Film – Live Action). “I should have gotten a haircut. . . I want to thank my mom, who did craft services” Gold.
The decision to have a song performed during the “In Memoriam” segment. It eliminates the CLAP CLAP CLAP for the big names and the golf-like pitter-patter for people most folks hadn’t heard of.
Florence Welch and A.R. Rahman’s performance of "If I Rise." After a several less-than noteworthy performances, that one hit the spot. See what you get when you throw in some Eastern influence?
Randy Newman’s speech. His performance was a bit of a mess, due to that silly backing track rendering his voice unintelligible, but his speech was gold. Irreverence at its best.

By the way, I went 18/24. Should have entered the Outguess Ebert contest, ‘cause I outguessed the guy. There’s always next year.

Let's start the Billy Crystal 2012 campaign. It's gonna happen, kids. Bet on it.

Oscar Night 2011: Welcome to the Big Dance

2011-02-26T18:31:00.000-08:00

Hello, Oscar night. It seems like an eternity since last year’s ceremony, but here we are again. Changes? We still have 10 nominees for Best Picture, unfortunately. Can’t win ‘em all.

I have to admit that I have a good feeling about James Franco & Anne Hathaway as hosts. I think they’ll be charmingly, disarmingly cute, but here’s hoping they take a risk or two.

Here are my predictions in each category, with the “Big 6” getting some extra time. If you win big in your Oscar pool, message me, and I'll tell you where to send my share of the winnings.

Best Picture

· “Black Swan”

· “The Fighter”

· “Inception”

· “The Kids Are All Right”

· “The King's Speech”

· “127 Hours”

· “The Social Network”

· “Toy Story 3”

· “True Grit”

· “Winter's Bone"

Predicted winner: The King’s Speech
If I was voting: True Grit
Possible upsets: The Social Network

Analysis: The change in momentum that’s occurred over the last month has been almost dizzying. The Social Network had a full head of steam behind it and was the clear picture to beat. Then . . . The King’s Speech . . . happened. After winning almost all of the major “Best Film” awards (with the exception of the Golden Globe – Drama), it’s practically vaulted over the competition to the top. Look for it to pick up the big one on Oscar night, with a very strong possibility that The Social Network could swoop in, flip back the clock and take what lots of folks thought it was going to get anyway.

Directing

· “Black Swan” Darren Aronofsky

· “The Fighter” David O. Russell

· “The King's Speech” Tom Hooper

· “The Social Network” David Fincher

· “True Grit” Joel Coen and Ethan Coen

Predicted winner: David Fincher
If I was voting: Joel Coen and Ethan Coen
Possible upsets: Tom Hooper

Analysis: I know that Tom Hooper’s won the Director’s Guild Award. I know that that’s an almost frighteningly accurate indicator of who’s going to walk off with Oscar. I still think that the Academy’s going to see this as David Fincher’s “time” and reward his second nomination with the win. Besides, Hooper’s young, British, and probably not going anywhere. He’ll have other chances. I would be remiss if I didn’t point out that Christopher Nolan should be one of the nominees. While I’m not a big fan of his film, he did a very gutsy thing in making a $160 million art movie. I’d give him Russell’s spot.

Actor in a Leading Role

· Javier Bardem in “Biutiful”

· Jeff Bridges in “True Grit”

· Jesse Eisenberg in “The Social Network”

· Colin Firth in “The King's Speech”

· James Franco in “127 Hours”

Predicted winner: Colin Firth
If I was voting: Jeff Bridges
Possible upsets: None.

Analysis: Colin Firth will win. Period. I think the Academy ought to pull a Tom Hanks and give it to Jeff Bridges for his outstanding work in True Grit, but it ain’t gonna happen.

Actress in a Leading Role

· Annette Bening in “The Kids Are All Right”

· Nicole Kidman in “Rabbit Hole”

· Jennifer Lawrence in “Winter's Bone”

· Natalie Portman in “Black Swan”

· Michelle Williams in “Blue Valentine”

Predicted winner: Natalie Portman
If I was voting: Natalie Portman
Possible upsets: Annette Bening

Analysis: Lesley Manville should be nominated in this category, and she should win. Her performance in Another Year was that good. Silly Academy. (sighs back into reality) Black Swan was the first occasion that Natalie Portman’s ever blown me away, and I think she’s a strong favorite. While I’d be very surprised if she didn’t win, Annette Bening might challenge her here. She’s lost a couple of times previously, and some might say that this is her last, best chance to win. I still don’t think it’s going to happen. Besides, if you’re going to nominate someone from The Kids Are All Right, it should have been Julianne Moore.

Actor in a Supporting Role

· Christian Bale in “The Fighter”

· John Hawkes in “Winter's Bone”

· Jeremy Renner in “The Town”

· Mark Ruffalo in “The Kids Are All Right”

· Geoffrey Rush in “The King's Speech”

Predicted winner: Christian Bale
If I was voting: Christian Bale
Possible upsets: Geoffrey Rush

Analysis: The Fighter is a film that’s really lucked out this year. It’s decently entertaining, but never takes flight in the way that it could. Christian Bale’s outstanding performance is the finest thing about the film, and I think it’s going to be rewarded. However, if Geoffrey Rush pulls off an upset in one of the first prizes of the telecast, get ready for a British avalanche of The King’s Speech winning everything under the sun.

Actress in a Supporting Role

· Amy Adams in “The Fighter”

· Helena Bonham Carter in “The King's Speech”

· Melissa Leo in “The Fighter”

· Hailee Steinfeld in “True Grit”

· Jacki Weaver in “Animal Kingdom”

Predicted winner: Melissa Leo
If I was voting: Helena Bonham Carter
Possible upsets: Hailee Steinfeld, Helena Bonham Cater

Analysis: This is the trickiest of the 6 majors to call. Hailee Steinfeld is the fresh, young face that impressed a lot of people with her plucky (LEAD) performance in True Grit. Helena Bonham Carter has the good fortune to be attached to The King’s Speech (and had a nice turn to boot). However, I think Melissa Leo’s got the momentum, and might squeak out the victory. This is a very tough category. Could go to any of the aforementioned 3.

Animated Feature Film: Toy Story 3
Art Direction: The King’s Speech
Cinematography: Roger Deakins – True Grit
Costume Design: Alice In Wonderland
Documentary (Feature): Exit Through The Gift Shop
Documentary (Short Subject): Strangers No More
Film Editing: The Social Network
Foreign Language Film: In A Better World
Makeup: The Wolfman
Music (Original Score): Trent Reznor & Atticus Ross – The Social Network
Music (Original Song): “We Belong Together” – Randy Newman (Toy Story 3)
Short Film (Animated): Day & Night
Short Film (Live Action): Wish 143
Sound Editing: Inception
Sound Mixing: Inception
Visual Effects: Inception
Writing (Adapted Screenplay): Aaron Sorkin – The Social Network
Writing (Original Screenplay): David Seidler – The King’s Speech

Happy Superbowl Sunday to all!

The Best Films of 2010

2011-02-07T21:12:00.000-08:00

Let us not pretend that this is a democracy.

There are any number of theories on what makes a proper “top ten” list and which films should and should not be eligible for inclusion. Despite this, I don’t really care.

This is not going to be a normal “top ten” list.

On it, you’ll find films that were released in their home countries in 2009 before opening in the U.S. in 2010, and you’ll find films that played in movie houses around the world without every properly opening in the US.

Films with a hyperlink were reviewed right here by yours truly, and the heading will click through to the original piece if you want to delve deeper.

As of this point, I’ve seen just about all of the films that I felt were necessary to make up this list, with the exception of Biutiful. Naturally, I reserve the right to make changes.

Incipit . . .

10. Machete
--Normally, gleefully trashy B-pictures aren’t my thing, but the fact remains that Machete was the single most fun experience I had at the movies all year. If you’re into folks swinging from intestines and grizzled heroes killing tons of people with really big knives after getting with just about every attractive actress in Hollywood, this one’s for you. ‘Cause we all need one of those sometimes.

9. 127 Hours
--One man. A rock. Trapped for days. The elements should add up to a marginally interesting story of survival. By contrast, 127 Hours is gritty and surprisingly theatrical in scope. Danny Boyle and Simon Beaufoy deserve a lot of credit for making what should be a small story into something much bigger, even somewhat fascinating. There’s more at stake than what happens when a man gets stuck in a canyon. It’s about why that man found himself alone in the canyon in the first place. James Franco’s never been better.

8. The Kids Are All Right
--When the film begins, it’s almost a study in how to make an audience feel awkward. It’s to director/co-writer Lisa Cholodenko’s credit that the film evolves into a wonderfully compelling look at a modern family with same-sex parents. Julianne Moore and Mark Ruffalo, in particular, are wonderful. The writing is deft, the performances are strong, and the emotion is true. The Kids Are All Right is groundbreaking, authentic, and resonant.

7. Another Year
--Another Year (and, by extension, Mike Leigh) refuses to give me exactly what I want as a moviegoer, and I love it for that. Nice little bows and neatly wrapped endings to clearly defined story arcs just won’t do here. I cannot think of another film that surpasses this one as a convincing slice of life. The performances are so, so strong, and Lesley Manville is utterly brilliant.

6. Black Swan
--Over the first hour, Black Swan is very quietly creepy in establishing one idea of reality, and then relentless in bashing that reality to bits in the second. Natalie Portman is the best I’ve ever seen her, and the last 10 minutes are breathtaking.

5. Blue Valentine
--In recent memory, there have been a handful of films that have attempted, in different ways, to capture the heartbeat of modern relationships. If Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind was a dazzling work of abstract expressionism, Blue Valentine is the heartbreaking portrait in still life. Gosling and Williams are dazzling, and the script seems less a work of fiction than a recording of how people live, breathe, and love.

4. The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo
--Over and over, I was told that I needed to see this film because it was really, really good. I was (needlessly) concerned that the hype monster was going to strike again. It’s everything I heard it was, and much more. Lisbeth Salander is one of the best characters to hit the screen in years.The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo is unflinching, ruthless, spellbinding, romantic, shocking, and beautifully human. No matter what kind of movie you like, chances are good that this is going to satisfy you.

I thought a lot about what should top this list. Many of the films here lingered on in my imagination long after they’d finished. While this is usually a sign that there’s more at work than meets the eye, it does not necessarily mean that a film’s better or worse than initially thought. I toyed with the idea of not even ranking the films numerically so as to not have to make a tough decision. However, I decided to go for it.
The final three films represent such a leap in quality that they deserve a separation from the rest of the pack. Any of them could have easily each found itself in the top slot. My decision between #2 and #3 came down to my impression of which film had the more lasting impact emotionally. My pick for the top spot ultimately came out of my decision as to which film I would change the least, if given the chance.

3. True Grit
--If there are better filmmakers than Joel and Ethan Coen working today, I’d like to meet them. True Grit tackles a familiar story with a grace, vitality, and humor the original film never had. Films like this are like feasts in a time of famine. There’s such a sure, confident hand at work in the writing that I doubt that anyone else could take such an established set of genre conventions and make them feel this fresh. I think True Grit is one of the better films the Coens have ever made. Jeff Bridges is simply outstanding in one of his finest performances. He was born to play Rooster Cogburn. Yet again, this is how you make a proper film.

2. Toy Story 3
--Threequels, by definition, have the odds steeply stacked against them. Anything worth developing left over from the original film is usually finished off in the second, and a third or fourth installment is generally a miscalculated misstep to try to expand the mythos. It’s astounding that Toy Story 3 is as effective as it is, and I am dumbfounded by the depth of the emotional experience I had with it. This is one of the best films Pixar has ever made and it just might be the finest film in the trilogy. The conclusion nears perfection.

1. Certified Copy
-- Here is a film that could have been made 50 years ago, and would probably have more easily fit in the cinematic landscape of that period. Kiaorostami’s film reminds me of Antonioni’s La Notte and the poignancy 60’s-era Godard brought to his better work. On paper, the story of a relationship between two people that becomes murkier as it progresses doesn’t seem like compelling dramatic material. It’s remarkable just how wrong that assumption is. Certified Copy is verbose without becoming dull, slippery without becoming frustrating, and enlightening without failing to entertain. Juliette Binoche’s radiant performance is one of, if not THE, best in a stellar career. The warmth she brings to the film is a rare thing. I would be lying if I said that I have all of the ins and outs of the narrative worked out. However, while the film may not be easily explained, it makes sense emotionally, and that is what makes all the difference. A beautiful meditation on art, love, and life.

Finis.

Somewhere: "News flash! Money doesn't buy happiness!"

2011-01-10T14:52:00.000-08:00

As a filmmaker, Sofia Coppola has always been most interested in the concept of alienation. I’ve always found her work to be a compelling portrait of what happens to a person when he/she is disconnected from what’s considered the norm and placed, for varying reasons, on the same shelf as the “famous” or “different.” Unfortunately, Somewhere is the least effective, and (by definition) worst film she’s ever made.

Somewhere is about Johnny Marco, (Stephen Dorff) an actor whose life is an endless series of parties, women, press junkets, and lonely nights. He sees his 11 year old daughter Cleo (Elle Fanning) periodically, until her mother decides she needs some “time,” leaving her with Johnny, and the two spend a few weeks together.

Now, Johnny is clearly floundering in his personal life, but his career seems to be going great, as he’s obviously in demand and apparently well-liked. He’s not even a jerk, which is unusual for a movie like this. Normally, the main character would be some kind of womanizing slouch. While he’s definitely a womanizer, he’s quiet about it, and avoids becoming the stereotypically loud, flamboyant sex machine one would expect. So, if he’s not a jerk and he’s not that bad of a guy, then what’s his problem?

He’s really, REALLY bored.

Unfortunately, much of the narrative is devoted to showing us just how bored he is, which only serves to spread his condition to the viewer. Audiences like to watch character’s lives through the window of the screen, but they don’t like to be made to feel like they’re staring. Here, we watch Johnny race his car around a desert track not once or twice, but four times. We watch some very mediocre pole dancers go through multiple routines, and do you think we’re spared from seeing the whole thing? Guess again. When Johnny takes Cleo to her ice skating lesson to practice her long program, we watch . . . wait for it . . . the whole thing. When he’s sitting on the couch with a beer and cigarette, we stay with him until he’s finished the cigarette. Naturalism isn't a bad thing. In their films, Jean-Pierre and Luc Dardenne spend much of their time following their characters around as they move through their daily lives to wonderful effect. The difference with them is that their work features strong narrative "engines" and striking characters, neither of which is the case in Somewhere.

There was a couple behind me who spent the entire film whispering back and forth to each other. After about 10 minutes, I found myself wondering what on earth they could be confused about, as nothing notable had happened on the screen. Later, one of them seemed to be using the light from the screen to clip fingernails.

In recent times, I find myself asking these questions more and more. “Why does this story need to be told? What compelled the filmmaker to go to the trouble to make the film?”If I can’t find a suitable answer for that question, then, chances are, it’s not a film I think much of. Frustratingly, Somewhere left me in that same lurch.

All in all, the characters don’t say much. I know that’s one of Coppola’s minimalist trademarks, but I would have loved to hear something interesting come out of their mouths for a few minutes. I wanted to see some kind of passionate response from them about something. Does Cleo find out about her dad’s womanizing habits? Yes. Is she significantly bothered by them? Not really. Why include this at all if it’s not going to be used to any purpose? Johnny gets anonymous text messages throughout the film telling him what a jerk he is, when the guy we’re watching doesn’t seem all that bad. It got old. Late in the film, Johnny delivers a pivotal line of dialogue that the person he’s speaking with clearly can’t hear. Is inaudible dialogue turning into a fetish for Sofia? In the oft-discussed ending of Lost In Translation, the audience can’t hear what Bob and Charlotte are saying, and it’s a beautiful moment that caps off a connection formed between two wonderfully realized characters. In Somewhere, it’s flipped around so that the audience can hear what the character can’t. It doesn’t make sense why Johnny wouldn’t have the courage to say what he needs to straight out in a quieter moment. It would have been much more meaningful and would have been in keeping with Johnny’s character. As it’s delivered, the words "cliché" and "cheeseball" come to mind, two words that, in a perfect world, would never be used together.

And what’s with the music??? Normally, Sofia Coppola’s choice and placement are impeccable. Most of Somewhere doesn’t have any kind of soundtrack, and, when music is actually used, it’s very quiet. I wanted something like the glorious “Girls” from the beginning of Lost In Translation or “What Ever Happened” from Marie Antoinette. SOMETHING. Instead, almost all we get are songs that we’ve already heard because we’ve seen the trailer 1500 times, and we don’t even get to properly hear them. If you’re going to play that Strokes song again, can you at least turn it up so I can hear it? It’s a good song. However, there is a big bright spot in the form of a song called "Teddy Bear." It's performed by a guy named Romulo who accompanies himself on a wonderfully out-of-tune classical guitar. It's charming, endearing, and, in a microcosm, everything Somewhere would like to be.

Perhaps the biggest problem that arises in the film is the fact that Johnny just isn’t a terribly compelling character, and Stephen Dorff’s work isn't anything to write home about. The character operates on a very narrow band of quiet resignation without much variance. As such, when he has his breakdown scene, it’s not entirely believable. Some actors can cry and make you believe it, others can’t.

It's hard to watch Somewhere without thinking about Lost In Translation. Both are about famous men who spend time with a girl/woman, finding a new sense of priority and renewed source of strength. While Bill Murray was able to take the material and craft a finely-tuned portrait of middle-aged loneliness, Stephen Dorff doesn't seem to bring anything distinctive to what he's been given. I think that, in large part, it's not entirely his fault. Coppola should have given the script another pass (or two or three), and attempted to inject some kind of life into this dull, dull story of inconsequential goings-on.

After waiting several years for the follow-up to Marie Antoinette, I’ve missed Sofia Coppola.

After Somewhere, I still do.

2 stars (out of 5)

1/1/11

2011-01-01T16:22:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year to all of you. Personally, I'm looking forward the chance to start afresh with 12 brand, spanking-new months. Despite the fact that we're only talking about the arbitrary choice of a specific date by a bunch of white guys in the 15th century, it's as good a day as any to hit the rewind or reset button.

Thank you for your support in 2010. Despite unexpected changes and necessary adjustments, we're still here, and I'm very grateful for those who take the time to read Things I Know About The Movies. It's my hope that, in 2011, our reach grows closer to the realm in which our goals have taken residence. In the next few weeks, look for an article with a bunch of capsule reviews of some of the bigger films I didn't take the time to review at length, and, of course, my list of the best films of 2010. I'd have that done already, but I'm waiting on a few films to open in my area. 2011's going to have a few surprises for you too, so keep your eyes open. I'm excited, and I hope you are too.

Mazel tov!

-Adam

Another Year: On How Life Is

2010-12-31T07:00:00.000-08:00

We tell stories about all kinds of things. Love. Passion. Murder. Crime. Retribution. Triumph. Smart people doing dumb things. Dumb people doing smart things. There are stories about kings leading armies into battle. There are stories about small romances and great romances, and there are stories about little people that one would never hear of or remember unless they were a personal acquaintance. Every so often, there’s a story told that we call a “slice of life.” Another Year is one of these stories, but it’s more than that. Where other films try to portray the lives of people we think we know, Mike Leigh holds down the corner on the market. This is one of the truest examples of what a slice of life looks like that I’ve seen.

The story’s simple. In 4 acts that mirror the changing seasons, it’s about another year in the lives of two of the nicer people you’re ever bound to meet on a movie screen. The emphasis isn’t on any obvious character arcs, which is in direct opposition to the accepted norms of most standardized screenwriting. Instead, it seems to me that Leigh’s goal is to portray the grace and nurturing power that these two people hold over those they come in contact with.

Tom and Gerri, wonderfully played by Jim Broadbent and Ruth Sheen, weren’t even on screen for 2 minutes and I found myself thinking, “That is the kind of relationship I want to have when I am older. That is the type of person I would like to be.” I can only hope that, if I am fortunate enough to marry, my partner and I will have the kind of love and deep friendship that they have. There’s not an ounce of fakery in the kindness evident in every frame they share. These two people love each other, and what’s more, there’s not a moment on screen that either of them is shown concealing anything from each other. They’ve moved past pretense and pretending and are content to simply be, and be together.

Another Year is very different from the film I’d been anticipating. Mike Leigh is interested in relating the totality of a person's life experience, not just the fun bits. Near the end of the film, there’s a scene where someone shows up at Tom and Gerri’s house unannounced and has to talk a third person into letting her come inside. In other hands, this sequence would have lasted about 30 seconds. Leigh lets it run its course, and it lasts at least 2-3 minutes, possibly even longer.

You know something? It’s awkward when 2 people don’t know each other and are trying to get something done. You know this. I know this. I think everyone does. The difference here is that Leigh has confidence that his audience will keep a steady eye on things, even when they’re awkward. In the movies, we’ve become very used to only seeing the most exciting parts of someone’s life. There’s a reason that the quiet months that Forrest Gump spends with Jenny in his big ol’ house only last for about 5-10 minutes, now, isn’t there?

Unlikely as it might seem, I don’t think Another Year’s central character is Tom or Gerri. It's Lesley Manville who gives the film's standout performance. I’ve seen her in a couple of Leigh’s other films, but I can’t say I remember her from them. She’s wonderful here. Mary is a co-worker of Gerri’s that, I suspect, has been coming over for dinner/counseling sessions since the day they met. She’s the type of person that I’ve met on many occasions and have been more times than I care to admit. She’s fundamentally unhappy with the way her life’s going and is convinced that the next big thing is what’s going to make her happy.

First, it’s a new car that’s going to be “small and red.” When she gets it, there are all manner of problems. They’re funny as can be, and it’s a warmly affectionate kind of humor. While it’s clear that she’s been pining away for Joe, Tom and Gerri’s son, for years, I don’t think she’d be happy even if she got him to like her. The happiness she seeks can only come from self-actualization and self-acceptance. She already has all of the support she needs to begin the process. Her mistake is to look outward for what can only be found within.

It’s ironic when she finally does find someone that she connects with as an equal. Everyone else in the group is used to her nattering on and on about her life and what she’s going to do. Not this person. He has no frame of reference, and is so quiet that it forces her to slow down and, sometimes, just breathe. Later, she tells him, “it’s really nice to have someone that you can talk to.” This is coming from a woman who’s spent the entire film talking, talking, talking to anyone who will listen to her. She’s only known this man for a matter of hours and has hardly told him anything about her life, but feels that the tiny bit of herself that she’s shared is more genuine than these people she’s known for 20 years. That’s striking.

Mike Leigh doesn’t usually do what I want him to do, and he doesn’t usually do what I think he ought to do. I am beginning to think that this is a good thing. Another Year has a combination of subtlety, honesty, and clarity rarely encountered in contemporary film. It is my continued hope that room be found for the film on the awards circuit, with particular regard to Leigh’s screenplay and Manville’s performance. In a year dominated by high concept stories and "big stars," Another Year and the people in it have a little place in my heart. They can stay as long as they like.

4 stars (out of 5)

A.I. Artificial Intelligence (2001): Look Again

2010-12-24T14:30:00.000-08:00

Contribution to The Spielberg Blogathon. Thanks to Adam Zanzie and Ryan Kelly for hosting.

If you have not seen the film in question, you would be very foolish to read this.

One of the main charges that’s often labeled at Steven Spielberg is that he’s never content to leave well-enough alone and must always end his films on a sentimental (if not clearly positive) note. This viewpoint isn’t entirely unfair. It’s a trait that, for better or worse, Spielberg has demonstrated at various points throughout his career. The guy likes things to end on the classic Hollywood lump-in-the-throat. However, putting whether this is good or bad aside, there’s one place that the sentimentality charge simply doesn’t fit, and, oddly enough, it’s one of the most often used examples of Spielberg’s penchant for sentimentality.

A.I. Artificial Intelligence is often criticized/decried/lamented for being the film that Stanley Kubrick might have directed. The story’s simple enough. In a distant future, humans use robots called "mechas" to do all of the jobs that they don't want to do. A technician creates a child mecha that, once activated and specifically imprinted to a human being, has the ability to love that person. David, the child mecha, spends his entire life looking for ways to earn the love of the human being he considers to be his mother. Kubrick started conceptualizing the project in the 1970’s. Along the way, he showed Steven Spielberg what he was working on, spoke with him at length about the project, and attached him as a producer. For various reasons, he didn’t actually make the film, and tried to give the project to Steven, who didn’t want to take over the film. However, after Kubrick’s death, his family approached him with the project again, and Steven set out to complete Kubrick's vision.

Visually, the film’s spectacular, and I’d argue that the script (written by Spielberg himself) has nary a wrong step. Despite this, the fact remains that there’s a large contingent who believes that the film goes on about 20 minutes too long. Their preferred ending would come with David sitting in the sunken underwater remains of Coney Island, staring at the statue of the Blue Fairy, waiting for her to turn him into a real boy.

Then, the film departs into a distant future. A group of advanced mechas/robots exploring a frozen Manhattan find David and re-activate him, downloading his memories. What’s quickly apparent is that humanity has become extinct and these beings have never met their creators. David is the first link they’ve found to the heritage they cannot understand. After telling him the fate of humankind and of his “mother,” they tell him that they have found a way to recreate individual humans from a single strand of DNA present in something like a lock of hair. However, these people only live for one day, and, upon falling asleep, die for the last time. Unsurprisingly, David asks for his mother to be revived. They spend a wonderful day together, the kind of day that David had always wanted to spend with her. Finally, she falls asleep, as does David, and the film ends.

Detractors find this ending a cop-out, claiming that this is Spielberg’s attempt to soften a narrative that’s too harsh to fit within his usual aesthetic. Initially, I understood this point of view, even if I felt that the ending served the film successfully. What’s ironic about this is that the film ends exactly the way that Kubrick intended.

So, what does this mean?

The first time I watched the film, I took the ending at face value. It meant what it said it did, and wasn’t anything more than that. Then, I thought about it, thought about it some more, and came to a different understanding.

See, the ending is anything but a happy one. It is impossible to recreate all that an individual human being is from a single strand of DNA, even in the fantastical world of A.I. Artificial Intelligence. Even if it were possible to recreate a person’s body (which is not entirely inconceivable), DNA isn’t truly what makes a person a unique individual. Memories created by a singular life experience are the things that define who someone is. If it were possible to reconstruct someone’s body, there would be no way to restore that person’s soul. The lights would be on, but the same person wouldn’t be home.

It’s ironic that the most caring creatures in the film are these advanced mechas. Even as person after person has used (and abused) David, what remains after humanity is dead has surpassed its creators in kindness and basic “human” decency. After David’s memories have been downloaded, the advanced mechas have learned all that they’re going to about humanity from him, and they’ve decided to give him the only thing that he’s ever really wanted: the love of his mother. It would be simple for them to deactivate David or to modify him to become a member of their community, but instead they choose to GIVE. They know exactly what it will take to make him happy, and they provide that for him. The Monica that we knew in the first part of the film wouldn’t treat David with as much love as her recreation does. No, she’d want to know where her husband and son were, what was going on, and why David, who she’d abandoned, was there in the first place. Through their processing of his memories, the advanced mechas knew exactly what David has always wanted from her, that he had a lock of her hair, and construct an elaborate fiction that will allow them to provide it for him. Finally, remember that David does not sleep, so his curling up next to Monica to go to the “place where dreams are born” is an impossibility. Essentially, they’re allowing him the chance to end his life after experiencing ultimate happiness.

While it’s a tragedy that A.I. Artificial Intelligence hasn’t taken its place in the cinematic canon, I think it’s because the film is smarter than a lot of its audience. In this version of the Pinocchio story, the dream of becoming “real” doesn’t come true so much as the protagonist, and, by extension, the audience, believes that it has come true. It’s no small thanks to this ruse that A.I. Artificial Intelligence gains so much resonance.

What resonates more? A lump-in-the-throat happy ending or an ending built on the deception that someone’s gotten everything that he wants when he hasn’t gotten a thing? You already know what I think.

Stanley, Steven, the joke’s on them.

A Tale Told In Gasps

2010-12-18T17:57:00.000-08:00

I gratefully acknowledge my good friend J for being a first-rate discussion partner after the screening.

I’ve been anticipating Black Swan for months. MONTHS. The studio’s release schedule is one that’s pretty tough to figure out. I don’t get why they’ve screened the film to high heaven at festivals and previews, building anticipation to a fever pitch, and then have put it out an inch at a time.

No matter. It’s gone wide now, and whether or not it finds its way to a large audience remains to be seen. Now, onto the matter at hand.

Black Swan is a crazy ride of a movie, filled with moments that alternately make the head tilt, the body cringe, and the heart flutter. Natalie Portman's performance is the best I’ve ever seen her give. Period. Not only do I think she’ll merit some serious consideration come the year-end awards process, but I also hope she wins, since my other favorite performance (Juliette Binoche in Certified Copy) probably won’t be eligible. While the rest of the cast is strong, this is Natalie Portman's movie.

Portman is Nina Sayers, a member of a successful ballet company. After the forced retirement of the company’s aging star (a strong Winona Ryder), Nina is cast in the title role in Swan Lake, and must portray both the chaste, serene White Swan and the wild, lustful Black Swan. Her struggle for perfection, present from the first frame, drives her mad as her role becomes reality.

To be honest, Black Swan isn’t quite the film I’d expected. I’m not sure if the superiority of the last half of the film is due to an increase in quality or to the first half laying tracks for the train. Who knows? Black Swan kept me guessing, and made me wince more than once, which is a lot more than I can say for most other films. I am more inclined to think that it’s a film that requires time to build traction and gain momentum to make its way to a climax. After having heard so much about it, I was surprised to see this. I’d anticipated the type of mindbender that would engross from the get-go, much like the way Mulholland Dr. enthralls from the opening frame.

Here, I stumble over my own thoughts. Both films are fairly “quiet,” allowing the viewer time to take a deep breath before sucking the air out of his/her lungs. However, they’re very different in the way they go about telling a story, and I’m not entirely sure how to describe the divide. Let's try this. . . both films put the viewer down in drastically different places than he/she had been picked up in the first place. Where David Lynch’s film is a lyrically hypnotic dream in which the nightmare is in found in waking up instead of going to sleep, Darren Aronofsky’s fever dream simmers, simmers, and finally boils until it’s consumed.

The validity of perception is one of the biggest questions raised throughout Black Swan. As a viewer, it’s so easy to get caught up in Nina’s struggle to keep her head on straight that it can become tough to keep an objective perspective. By objective, I’m not suggesting that the film experience should be a dry and boring one that’s approached like a reporter covering a bake sale. What I mean is that, by the end of the film, it dawns upon the viewer how little of the story may have really happened the way it initially appeared to. For example, Nina’s mother seems to be a very controlling person, leaving almost no part of Nina’s home life unregulated. It’s in the reexamination of the narrative that I began to wonder exactly how accurate my perception of her actually was. I mean, if I thought that A, B, and C were all true, and they were proved to be tied up in Nina’s delusions, then it’s logical to conclude that the ramifications could spread through the entire alphabet, right?

However, with Black Swan, I really do want to understand the subtleties of the narrative, and will watch the film again (if not several times) with the hope of gaining valuable perspective. Conversely, with Inception, 2010’s biggest "head trip" movie, I’m not particularly interested in trying to plumb its shallow depths to try and figure things out. I just don't really care.

Darren Aronofsky’s direction reminds me very much of his work on The Wrestler, particularly with his prolific use of Super 16mm and his fascination with following his characters from behind as they move from place to place. However, I’m not a big fan of his prolific use of hand-held cameras, though I did warm to them a bit, at least in the way he tried to film the dancing sequences so as to capture their sense of rhythm and movement. There was one specific instance where I felt that he was trying to unnecessarily punctuate a certain surprise moment. I got it the first time, Darren. No need to go for a “da-DUM!” It may seem like a minor quibble, but it does detract from the air of gravitas he’s trying to establish.

Through much of Black Swan, I found myself waiting for the thrills I’d expected to manifest early on. Let me tell you, when they hit, they come with a vengeance. The last 10 minutes or so is gripping cinema that's tautly beautiful. I’m inclined to think that the film’s ending is quite possibly a perfect one. I have a very small number of narrative endings that I consider to be perfect, and I wasn’t expecting Black Swan to find a way on that list. The conclusion thrilled me, but, much more than that, I was enthralled, blasted back in my seat, in the happy delirium of the satisfied cinephile.

Ahhhhhhhhh.

4 ½ stars (out of 5)

Early Review: True Grit

2010-12-08T01:43:00.000-08:00

If there are better filmmakers than Joel and Ethan Coen alive and working today, then I’d like to meet them. The seemingly effortless way they control the tone of their films and the brilliance of their craftsmanship are second to none. I’ve often said that, if one wanted to make a film, all that’s necessary is to watch No Country For Old Men for a “textbook” example of how do to do the job right. True Grit is the next chapter in that book.

True Grit is based on a 1969 film with John Wayne, which was itself based on a 1968 novel. All three feature a quest to find the man who killed 14 year old Maddie Ross’ father, with Maddie helped by Marshal Rueben “Rooster” Cogburn and La Boeuf, a Texas Ranger. Now, I can’t speak for the novel, because I haven’t read it. However, the Coen Brothers’ film is so much of an improvement over the original that it suggests the difference between the Jonas Brothers and the Beatles. It’s all pop music, but they are NOT, by any stretch of the imagination, doing the same thing.

The script is fantastic. Joel and Ethan have more than found a way to walk the narrative tightrope between retelling a well-known story and putting their own spin on things. Their version is much more organic than Marguerite Roberts’ original. I was amazed at how much more fluid the film’s pacing is. Most of the same moments, conversations, and setpieces take place, but they’re allowed to do so within a narrative rhythm, where certain bits in the original stuck out in awkward places. Joel and Ethan’s seamless script takes the same moments and, through changing the timing or setting, infuses the story with an energy and vitality that just wasn’t there the first time around.

It’s because of the structural tightening that True Grit really takes flight. Not surprisingly, the Coens bring out a lot of the story's inherent humor. I found myself cracking up all throughout the film, and not always when everyone else in the theater was too. I’m ok with that. What’s more, their version of the post-Civil War South feels so much more real than anything that the original accomplished. Where 1969’s take was squeaky clean and refined, 2010 is still refined, but much, much grimier, leaner, and meaner.

Jeff Bridges’ performance. . . oh, wow. He’s five times the actor John Wayne ever was. (yes, I said it) While Wayne's Cogburn was a charming character because of his self-consciousness as a performer, Bridges effortlessly goes further than that. He brings a remarkable sense of depth to the character. Instead of only being an old man who wants to do things his way and usually ends up shooting anyone who tries to stop him, he’s a gruff guy who can barely be understood a lot of the time. He drinks too much and sometimes says things that he doesn’t mean. Mostly, he’s got a very simple way of looking at the world. After making Maddie climb a tall tree to identify and cut down a dead man hanging there, he turns him over and says, “I do not know this man.” And it’s hilarious.

You know why? It’s because it’s true. He doesn’t know the guy.

Like The Big Lebowski and the Dude who only wanted his rug back because it tied the room together, Cogburn needed to find out if the man was who they were looking for, was too old/heavy to climb the tree, made Maddie do it, and it just wasn’t the right guy. Case closed. That’s where a lot of the Coen Brothers’ humor comes from. Their jokes aren’t anything revolutionary, and they’re not even that complicated. They just have the guts/balls/chutzpah/common sense to say things out loud that are completely obvious.

The direction and editing are wonderful. By serving as “Roderick Jaynes,” their own editor, Joel and Ethan are able to alternately shoot and select exactly the shots they want. Sometimes, when I’m watching a film, I want to stretch out my hands, make them into a rectangular window, and try to capture what I’m seeing. I think of those shots as shots that were born rather than created. True Grit has many born moments, and they're beautiful.

There’s another aspect of the Coens’ craft that often goes unlooked. They have the souls of poets. No matter what type of film they’re making, there’s an element of what Herzog refers to as a “deeper truth, an ecstasy of truth.” Whether it’s the evocative simplicity of the ending of No Country For Old Men, the Dude and Walter’s hug on the cliff in The Big Lebowski, or the rumination on the meaning of life in the police car in Fargo, they’re quietly at work creating some of the most affecting moments in cinema today. It’s not enough for Joel and Ethan to just tell a story. They find a way to leave the viewer with something that connects that story to daily life. Here, in a story that’s been told for years, there’s a sense that more is at hand than simple retribution for a crime committed. Time passes. Children are forced to grow up too soon. Men must admit that they are wrong. People grow old. “Time has a way of moving past us.” I am grateful, so grateful, for these moments.

As True Grit neared its conclusion, there’s a sequence where two characters on horseback race against time, and you know what, reader? I got a little bit emotional. 2010’s been such a lackluster year for cinema that it was like giving a hungry man a meal. On the inside, I was crying out, “THIS is how you make a movie. This is how you do it.” I’m reminded of something Emily Dickinson said once. Someone asked her what poetry was and she said that she didn’t know how to describe it, but when she read something and felt like the top of her head was being blown off, then that was poetry. She knew it when she found it. That’s what True Grit is. I may get tongue-tied if you ask me exactly what makes a great film, but I know how it feels when I find it.

People often look fondly at older films and say, “They just don’t make ‘em like they used to.” They’re right.

Here, Joel and Ethan Coen didn’t make one like folks used to. They made one better.

4 ½ stars (out of 5)

Thoughts From a Red Rug - Certified Copy

2010-11-25T20:11:00.000-08:00

From AFI Fest.

Certified Copy is an evocative, sly, intelligent, and ultimately poignant dream of a film. Abbas Kiarostami’s work here reminds me of the best of Godard and Antonioni. On the surface, the story is simple enough. A woman who specializes in antiques meets an expert who’s just written a book that questions the idea that an original piece of art is superior to a copy of itself. She decides to take him around to see various works of art before he has to leave for another stop on his tour in support of the book. Along the way, their conversation evolves until it’s become something else entirely and the nature of their relationship is called into question. Are they actually a long-married couple who’s merely pretending to have just met? Or are they two people who’ve only just met that are pretending to be a long-married couple?

In the end, does it matter?

Here, strangely, I don’t think that it does. Ordinarily, things like that drive me up the wall. I grow weary when I feel that a filmmaker’s pretensions toward making some kind of artistic statement overshadow what should be his/her commitment to tonal consistency. If you’re happy with what you’ve made, that’s great, but I need a way inside in order to be able to step back and regard it as a whole.

That’s part of what makes Certified Copy so fascinating. Even though the nature of their relationship is still murky by the end of the film, it rings true. It may not make empirical sense, but it makes emotional sense. I’m reminded of Buñuel’s decision to cast two actresses as Conchita in That Obscure Object Of Desire. The similarity is striking. Both are decisions that should not work, but do so despite the odds against them.

Juliette Binoche may be the most beautiful woman in the world. I can’t think of another actor, male or female, who can light up the screen like she can with a simple smile. It’s a radiant thing. She won the Best Actress prize at Cannes for her work here, and it’s not hard to see why. Her character runs the gauntlet emotionally speaking, sometimes in a short period of time. According to IMDB, the film won’t be released in the States until March 2011, which would mean that her performance will probably be overlooked come award season. That’s terrible.

Of films released in the US in 2010, I can only think of two performances by an actress that rival hers: Carey Mulligan in Never Let Me Go and Noomi Rapace in the Millennium Trilogy. While I sincerely hope that both of these performances receive consideration, the idea that Binoche’s work is probably going to be forgotten is yet another sign that the way films are distributed in this country is all wrong. Something like Transformers (I know that this franchise is an easy target, but it remains so nonetheless) gets greenlit sight unseen and ends up in thousands of theaters around the country, while Certified Copy is pushed off into a corner. By delaying its release until early next year, it will be ineligible for most, if not all, year-end awards in the U.S. What’s more, a movie coming out in March will almost never contend for major awards the following year. Essentially, by sticking the film in that slot, it’s being condemned to fade away into insignificance when it should be given the chance to shine.

What might even be worse is the idea that, even if circumstances were drastically different, Binoche still might not receive any serious consideration. The masses in America have been convinced that they’re not going to be interested in films that aren’t easily found in local megaplexes. The idea that she won’t even be given the chance is something that makes me sad.

Certified Copy hearkens back to an older time when films were made with characters who were preoccupied with the questions of life, death, art, and the meanings thereof. 50 years ago, it was possible to make a film where the main conflict was that of ideas, not armies or souped-up robotic creatures, and have that film find its way to an audience.

When did we lose that curiosity? When did it become important only to provide thrills and chills to an audience and blind them with beautiful people? I’m not suggesting that films don’t, on some level, have some obligation to divert one’s attention, though I hesitate to use the word “entertain” as an overarching responsibility. I think that, too many times, the emphasis is on entertainment through titillation of the senses at the expense of enlightenment through stimulation of the mind. Certified Copy finds a way to entertain and enlighten. The majority of the film consists of two people talking, talking, talking, and it’s almost never less than fully engaging. It doesn’t NEED crashing cars and the like. No, it’s concerned with the nature of identity itself, and has the courage to explore the questions with intelligence and grace.

Can a stand-in ever take the place of an original? Is there such a thing as finding the right thing twice in a lifetime? At what point does a person’s love for something overshadow his/her head shouting that it’s not right to feel that way? By the end of the film, I came to a point where I’d come to a conclusion regarding which relationship of the two main characters was true and which was the illusion.

But, you know, I’m not sure. Still, I feel almost as though nit-picking instances of plot and story are to miss the point. Midway through the film, Binoche finds herself gazing into the mirror/camera as she styles her hair, chooses earrings to wear, and re-applies her lipstick. For her, it’s a hopeful gesture, as she’s hoping that it’ll be something that will be noticed by her husband/companion. The final shot of the film is of him gazing into a mirror at his reflection, but instead of making any effort to change what he sees, he regards himself tiredly, almost resignedly. He runs water, but never splashes any on his face, as most men would. I think the most beautiful moment in the film occurs at the conclusion. Throughout the film, they’ve referenced her brother-in-law’s stammer and the way that her sister loves how it makes him stretch out her name. Elle looks at her husband with a beautiful, tear-filled smile and calls him “J-j-j-james.” If Certified Copy had been released 45 years ago, there would be film classes taught about that moment.

Certified Copy is more than merely one of 2010’s best films. It’s one of the better films I’ve seen in some time. It knows something about life and has the courage to share it with us.

The heart understands what the head cannot.

4 ½ stars (out of 5)

Thoughts From a Red Rug - Blue Valentine

2010-11-15T20:43:00.001-08:00

From AFI Fest

Blue Valentine is the rare film that serves more as window than artifice, as it seems more like watching the lives of 2 people through a window than a mere movie. Apparently, the filmmakers were influenced certain recent European films, including 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days and the films of Jean-Pierre and Luc Dardenne, one of the finest writer/director teams at work today.

Ryan Gosling and Michelle Williams are Dean and Cynthia, an American middle-class married couple with one child, a daughter (played nicely by Faith Wladyka). Director/co-writer Derek Cianfrance uses a dual timeline to tell the story of the relationship between two people who would probably have never met had not circumstances aligned perfectly, much less gotten married. The film cuts back and forth between the “present” timeline, when their marriage is disintegrating, and the past, when their relationship is beginning and blossoming. Thus, at the end of the film, we’ve reached what might be considered both the conclusion and beginning of their love story.

Blue Valentine’s European sensibilities are readily apparent. Where American films tend to try and balance things/characters to a fault, this film feels like one that’s been lived in rather than created. The balancing act usually means one of two things.

Characters are clearly good or clearly bad, and if this isn’t initially apparent, then it’ll be pretty clear how we’re supposed to feel about them by the end of the film.
When things are a bit more ambiguous, then each character will have strengths and weaknesses that even out pretty well, a la “you are right from your side and I am right from mine.”

That’s one thing that makes Blue Valentine effective. The 2 main characters are messy, messy people with messy, messy lives. As their relationship breaks down, it’s almost impossible for them to have a rational conversation. When Dean wants to talk honestly, Cynthia thinks he’s being unreasonable, and when Cynthia wants to speak her mind, Dean thinks she’s attacking him. I’ve known people like that. No matter how much they may want to work things out, there’s such an incredible divide in their terminology and in the way that they approach certain things that they will probably never be able to really talk. I found myself feeling so sorry for Dean as the story progressed. Cynthia’s incredibly frustrated with him, but, really, he’s a giant puppy dog. All he wants is to be with his wife and daughter. They’re are all he has, and, what’s more, they’re all he wants.

The writing is fantastic. I know that it’s somewhat silly to gauge everything by the Academy Awards, given the somewhat dubious logic behind their selections, but I sincerely hope that this receives a nomination for Best Original Screenplay. The dialogue is wonderfully authentic, with Williams and Gosling bringing it to effortless life. I love the way that natural speech rhythms are present in their conversations. They’ve got all of the little stutter-stops and false starts that are present in the way that people talk. There’s a great scene where Dean finds a way to compliment and insult Cynthia at the same time by talking about her looks. Essentially, he’s telling her that pretty girls have it easy, because people pay closer attention to them than they might actually deserve by laughing at their jokes, which may or may not actually be funny. He then asks her to tell him a joke, and she tells an obscenely funny one about a pedophile. One of the highlights of the scene is the way that Cynthia starts telling the joke, messes up, and adjusts her delivery automatically to fix her mistake. When I (try to) tell jokes, that happens every time. Additionally, there’s a wonderfully naturalistic scene where Dean plays a little song for a dancing Cynthia out on one of their first dates. It’s just terrific. Also, don’t miss the end credit sequence. It’s is one of the loveliest I’ve ever seen. If you don’t stick around, you’re really missing out.

Chances are the only reason that you might have heard of Blue Valentine was because it received an NC-17 from the MPAA. That’s a sad thing. All too often in this country, so-called “obscure” films only get recognition due to controversy, be it related to the personal lives of the actors or the content of the film itself.

Personally, I’m slightly torn on the whole thing. I understand the MPAA’s place in society, but I question the amount of authority they’re given over a film’s exposure to an audience. If the NC-17 stands, a film that will have an already limited theatrical run shrinks even smaller, because many theaters refuse to play films rated higher than an R and funds for advertising dry up almost immediately.

Is there a significant amount of sexual content in the film? Yes, certainly. Is it pornographic? Not even close.

The emphasis remains squarely on the emotional lives of the characters and their responses to what’s happening. It’s about so much more than sex. Furthermore, it’s not as though sex is some kind of revolutionary subject (though you’d certainly think so, given this country’s public persona). Blue Valentine is documenting the way that a lot of people live and act, from the way that they speak, fight, relate, understand, misunderstand, and, yes, have sex. It’s unfair for the MPAA to suggest that the attempt to be honest about the way that people deal with relationships is a negative thing. It’s yet another example that the U.S. needs a workable adult rating. Personally, I’d go for breaking up the R rating into 2-3 subdivisions to denote the level of “objectionable” material a film contains. Under the current system, Lost In Translation and The Passion of the Christ have the exact same rating. Please.

I sincerely hope that Blue Valentine survives the MPAA appeal process unchanged and finds its way to the audience it deserves. It's one of the brightest lights in a year that's been largely unremarkable, and, even more than that, Blue Valentine is one of the better films to tackle human relationships in recent memory. One of 2010's best films.

4 1/2 stars (out of 5)

Thoughts From a Red Rug - Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives

2010-11-11T00:54:00.000-08:00

From San Diego Asian Film Festival.

Anyone who’s read this blog in May knows of the uber-love I feel for the Cannes Film Festival. That’s the festival that excites me most as a cinephile, because, more than any other, Cannes plays the films I want to see. So, after getting my pass, I was very excited to see that SDAFF was playing Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives, because, for the very first time, I would have a chance to see a Palme d’Or winner on the big screen. Thus far, I’ve been relegated to watching the big films from Cannes long after the fact on my admittedly much smaller (though still awesome!) LCD television.

Sadly, my excitement would die quickly enough once the film was underway. I could BS you with numerous platitudes and flowery descriptions, but I think that simplicity is the best way to go about this. Look, Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives sucks. I find it staggering that it was seriously considered for the Palme, and even more so that it ended up the winner.

Whenever a jury is deciding awards, it’s bound to allow for interesting results. A small group of people is choosing from among a clearly defined sample of films, and, depending on the makeup of the jury, anything can happen. Certainly, it’s not surprising that any jury with Tim Burton as its president might choose a title that’s a bit further off the beaten path than most. Still, this year’s festival had a number of films that generated a lot of buzz that seemed to be major contenders for the Palme. Another Year, The Housemaid, Of Gods and Men, and Biutiful come to mind. So . . . what happened???

Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives is the story of a dying man who lives on a farm in the midst of the jungle. As he nears the end of his life, his sister-in-law and a few other people come to be with him. It’s a quiet, meditative film. Now, just exactly WHAT it’s meditating on is something that I can’t tell you.

Writer/director Apichatpong Weerasethakul has a clear penchant for long, unbroken takes that remind me of Antonioni more than anyone else. However, with Antonioni’s films, there was a latent sense of quiet desperation and a somewhat ambiguous sense of angst that made the pacing work to his advantage. Conversely, Weerasethakul tends to focus on things and objects for much longer than I’d argue is necessary. For example, take the first sequence of the film. A small group of people is camping(?) in a field with a water buffalo tied to a tree. The animal escapes and trots off, only to be retrieved by a man from the group. Let me tell you, I saw far more of that water buffalo than I wanted to. I found myself giving silent instructions to the director: “ok, aaaaaaand it’s time to cut now, dude.” Still, a proclivity for deliberately long takes isn’t necessarily a bad thing.

It’s in the writing that Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives falls short, and it’s really too bad, because the early going is promising. There’s a very strong scene where Boonmee and his sister-in-law are visited by the his dead wife's ghost and long-lost son, and the conversation swirls around the dead’s relationship with the living and the presence of spirits/ghosts in the world. It’s at that moment that the film peaks. Unfortunately, it’s almost all downhill from there.

Not long after, the film takes a left turn that it never recovers from. We’ve been on a farm in the present with Boonmee, and now . . . we’re in the forest about 300 years prior with an emotionally/sexually frustrated princess who ends up having sex . . . with a catfish??? And the CATFISH does most of the work? I kid you not. It doesn’t actually play nearly as disturbed as it sounds, but the sheer oddity of the shift in time/place/subject doesn’t make much sense within the narrative. Then, without any explanation, we’re back in the present and the film continues with the story of Boonmee, albeit without any explanation as to how and why things are happening as they are. By the time the film ends, I was completely lost. I still have no idea how, even in the strange, fantastical reality of the film, the final scene is possible.

Glimpses of a good film shine through in bits of Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives. It’s a shame that those moments weren’t allowed to serve as the axis around which Weerasethakul could have framed the rest of the story. Then, it might have made for something truly meaningful. As it is, it’s an uneven, frustrating, and ultimately thankless experience.

1 ½ stars (out of 5)

It's coming!

2010-11-08T19:40:00.000-08:00

I am a lucky guy. The past year, I’ve found myself working very closely with a major film festival. As a result, I’ve been able to gain access to a ton of screenings, events, parties, and other festivals that I’d have been hard pressed to get into otherwise. The past few months have been particularly lovely, in terms of both the quantity and quality of what I’ve been able to do, so I thought that it’d be a shame to let all this go past without taking the chance to tell you about it.

So, I’m going to be starting a regular column right here called “Stories from the Circuit.” Or maybe I’ll call it “Festivalations” or “Thoughts from a Red Rug.” Or something like that. I plan to use it to write about the movies I’ve had the chance to see, many of which have not yet enjoyed release, limited or otherwise. Over the next week or so, keep one eye right here, because there’s a lot coming, given my prolific schedule of late.

And I’m open to ideas about the name.

Baddest Next-Door Neighbor. Ever.

2010-09-30T16:52:00.001-07:00

When I first saw the promotional material for the American remake of Let The Right One In, the Swedish film of now almost mythic proportions, I wasn’t terribly optimistic. Fact #1: I don’t usually go for horror films, and Let Me In looked nigh terrifying. Greetings and salutations, flaming hospital beds. Fact #2: American remakes of foreign films are often unnecessary, not to mention insulting. Ah, so those little American idiots can’t keep up with a couple lines of white text at the bottom of the screen? No problem! Let’s stupefy the things that made the idea work in the first place and make everything ten times bigger, louder, and more incoherent. No big deal.

Having gotten some (a mere fraction!) of that veritable load off of my chest, I’m pleased and somewhat surprised to put forth that Let Me In is actually quite good. As I have not seen the original, I was able to go into the film fresh, with only a basic understanding of the premise to guide me.

In the current climate of films like The Twilight Saga, The Vampire’s Assistant, and so on, Matt Reeves’ direction is remarkably elegant and, for the most part, restrained, choosing a wonderfully classical style of shot construction that eschews a lot of camera whirlygigging for the beauty of careful composition. Instead of piling on the camp, the story takes the idea of a young boy’s encounter and eventual friendship with a vampire trapped in the body of a 12 year old girl very seriously. To its credit, by sticking with a real-world setting and lived-in characters, Let Me In allows the viewer to experience the fantastical world of the film on its own terms, without a ridiculously over-arching series of convoluted vampirical mythology to deal with. Kodi Smit-McPhee deserves particular merit for his strong turn as Owen, the film’s emotional anchor. He may only be 12, but this kid’s got range and the potential for a bright future.

Unfortunately, the film’s not perfect, with the chief problem being several poorly executed VFX shots of Abby in full vampire mode. Some early comments have noted that she looks like Gollum, although I contend that Gollum looked better. A lot better. I would have much preferred that Reeves had simply cut from one location to another without feeling the need to show exactly how she arrived there. One of the film’s best moments involves Abby arriving at a second-story apartment and, when pressed as to how she got there, she simply says, “I flew.” I’d have much rather seen more of those moments instead of unnecessary, second-rate attempts at digital trickery. While these moments don’t torpedo Let Me In, they certainly slow the film’s momentum, which is unfortunate, given the wonderful balance between reality and fantasy that much of the film strikes.

In lesser hands, Let Me In might have been another gorefest of a bloodsucker flick, or even worse, another overwrought exploration of teenage angst as filtered through the vampire tradition. While it'll certainly be bread-and-butter to folks who love vampires, this film is a rare thing. Let Me In is a genre piece that appeals to a wider audience without (much) compromise, a modern action film that pays the viewer the respect of actually allowing him/her to see what's going on, and a genuinely entertaining experience.

Recommended: 4 stars (out of 5)

We have someone on the inside!

2010-09-07T20:36:00.001-07:00

The Toronto International Film Festival is upon us! Their line-up is wonderful, their festival awesome, and their city a joy, but I will not be there. Fortunately, Amanda, a colleague of mine, will be! What's more, she'll be blogging from the Festival with updates on the films she's seen and her impressions of the grand shindig.

TIFF's program this year contains almost every single film that I've been excited to see for the remainder of 2010, and I'm eager to hear Amanda's thoughts. You can link directly to her site here.

Don't Say Much and Carry a Big Knife. You'll Do Fine.

2010-09-05T22:49:00.000-07:00

On a hot summer night several years ago, a group of dudes sat around a card table with a superior stash of booze and a lot of time to kill. One of the dudes, Robert (it’s his house, see) says to the group, “man, somebody should make a movie about a disgraced Mexican dude who used to work for the U.S. government on stuff too dirty for them to risk their own people on.” His idea gets instant support from the bleary-eyed duderage assembled around a pretty boring game of 5 card stud. QT, already close to passing out, says, “YEAH! And he should carry around a huge machete and kill people with it!” Again, props come immediately. You’d have a tougher time getting an amen in a Pentecostal church than you would saying anything to this group.

If this isn’t the way that the idea for Machete was conceived, then it’s got to be pretty close.

If you read this blog, you know that I'm pretty particular. I'm not going to go and just see anything that's out. If a film doesn’t appeal to my taste/sensibilities, I’m not going to go out of some sense of obligation that I need to see “everything.” But you probably know much (if not all) of this already.

Look, dudes. Machete ROCKS. I hadn’t planned to see it, but found myself on an outing with a friend and it was one of the only films on the marquee that I hadn’t seen that seemed at all interesting.

Robert Rodriguez is a bit of an outsider as far as Hollywood goes, and that’s a good thing. The concept and title character for Machete debuted as one of the fabled fake trailers in the underachiever that was Grindhouse. Expanded to feature-length, Machete is one of the more enjoyable films I’ve seen all year, and just might sneak its way onto my Best of 2010 list. No promises.

Now for the laundry list: the performances service the film pretty well. Look, if you’d told me beforehand that I’d see Steven Seagal AND Lindsay Lohan in a film and actually be able to look at them without feeling an unbearable sense of sadness, I would have disagreed. Possibly strongly so. Robert De Niro has a lot of fun with the role of a ridiculously corrupt senator with a penchant for approving hilarious campaign ads. And Cheech Marin almost steals the movie as a wonderfully colorful man of the cloth. He’s got a line of dialogue that’s one of the best I’ve heard all year. I’d reproduce it here, but kids and Catholics visit this site.

Danny Trejo manages to sell almost every inch of the Machete character by playing the guy completely straight. There are no winks or nods to the camera here, thank goodness. I am in awe of the way that a grizzled, tattooed, (dare I even say) ugly man manages to spend quality time with Michelle Rodriguez, Lohan, Alicia Rachel Marek, AND Jessica Alba within the stretch of 1 hour and 45 minutes. Jerk. I am curious, however, about the remarkable ability of an unmanned movie camera’s ability to zoom in on some of the hanky-panky. An aside? Yes, but still something I noticed.

Another thing that’s worth noting is the film’s political bent. Think you’re just going to watch a movie about a lot of splatter? Rodriguez is NOT happy about the situation at the Southern border of the United States, and he’s not shy about it. That said, Machete is not without a sense of humor at the expense of all involved, which is great, as the somewhat preachy quality of the politics gets offset by some inspired sight gags.

Machete is a gory, hilarious, rip-roaring throwback to the grand tradition of the B picture. Your $11 (or less, if you’re a not a city slicker) could be spent much, much worse. My hat is off, my shortest, squattest digit is upraised, and my understanding of the human intestinal tract has been expanded. What more could you want from a movie like this?

4 stars (out of 5)

I know how I feel. How do YOU feel?

2010-08-23T14:53:00.000-07:00

The Standard Spoiler Warning
If I mention a particular film, I just might go into explicit details of the plot.
Read at your own risk.

I have often lamented the fact that Annie Hall’s vaunted influence seems to be a thing that exists in name only. If I had a dime for each voice that proclaimed the film once known as "Anhedonia" to be the first real modern romantic comedy . . . you get the point. The thing is, in addition to its deserved place in cinema’s hall of fame, Annie Hall has a special place in modern romantic comedy because the hero and heroine don’t end up together, and you know as much from the first 2 minutes of dialogue. Name another rom-com that tries THAT. I’ll wait.

(Adam waits as you frantically sift through endless memories of reasonably attractive pink-skinned actors running through airports/disrupting weddings to the “wrong” man/ultimately falling in a messy heap before the objects of their affection to declare undying love.)

Can’t do it? OK, I will. (500) Days of Summer.

At first glance, this is a funny little indie movie with some strange ideas of what tonal consistency is. I’d be lying if I said that every little nuance and flourish worked equally well to move the narrative forward, but, ultimately, this thing achieves a remarkable sense of emotional resonance.

I was surprised at how well this film captures the complexity of human relationships. It’s all too easy to do what just about every rom-com does and tell a story about two drastically different people who learn they can’t live without each other. (500) Days of Summer takes the opposite approach and runs with it, which I think is much more difficult. It’s about two very similar people who find that, try as they might, they just won’t be able to make things work.

Tom and Summer’s relationship defies easy classification, which is unusual for a modern film dealing with matters of the heart. (I very much wanted to just call the thing a rom-com, but I don’t think that using that label would be completely honest.) Usually, all we get are films with characters who are very clearly right for each other or not right for each other with very little grey area. I can’t imagine what it would be like to be in a relationship that wasn’t technically a “relationship.” Would drive me nuts.

When the story begins, it’s very easy to demonize Summer by thinking that she’s treated Tom poorly without any reason. She gets very close to him very quickly, both physically and emotionally, and then, after a while, jumps right out of the frying pan and walks off. Not only that, but she seems to fully expect that he’ll be ok with all this and ready to be “just friends” just as quickly. It seems like she almost expects him to have an on/off switch for his feelings.

Summer reminds me of people I’ve known and interacted with, with varying levels of intimacy. She has an inclination toward being somewhat flighty and sometimes emotionally impenetrable from a readability standpoint. She’s got a strong penchant for doing things for their own sake and rejecting the need for them to fit within a larger framework of values and norms. That said, I felt like I understood where Summer was coming from when the credits rolled. She’d been honest up front with Tom that she wasn’t interested in a real relationship and didn’t want anything serious, although I still can’t help but feel that, to a degree, she used him and his feelings for her own purposes.

Near the end of the film, there’s a scene where they “bump” into each other in a park, and have a chance to really talk. Without this moment, I don’t think that the film would have worked nearly so well as it does. I really admire the way that the two of them completely level with each other. He holds her accountable for her actions toward him, and she is completely honest about the way that she didn’t love him like she wanted to/should have/felt like she ought to. The way that she takes his hand, squeezes it, and he doesn’t move it at all is great. He’s not allowing himself to be drawn back in any more than he has to be. Of course, her mere presence is enough to pull him toward nostalgia and thoughts of what might have been, but he’s trying really hard.

The thing that rang true for me was how she said that she had fallen for the man she married so completely in a way that she had never really felt for Tom. She said it in a way that made me think that she had spent a lot of time thinking about that. Maybe she even tried really hard to make herself feel that way because she thought that she “should.” I can identify with this. Who hasn’t spent time asking oneself over and over and over again if you’re feeling the way you ought to about someone? “Do I care enough? Do I care too much? Am I in love? Should I be?” Like Tom says in the film, movies, pop songs, and greeting cards make it really clear how “normal” people feel about things of the heart, when the actual truth is that things are incredibly different in the so-called real world.

This scene reminds me of what my college speech professor used to call “peak communication.” It involves two people communicating exactly what they’re feeling, without holding anything back. He said that it wasn’t possible to really do this, but I wonder. Without this moment of genuine human communication, (500) Days of Summer would feel like an incomplete indie sketch with a lot of homage-style winks to the camera thrown in for good measure. With it, it’s wonderfully tender and remarkably poignant. It’s not common for a modern film, much less a modern American film, to portray relationships so honestly. This film touched me, and I’m grateful for that. Those don’t come around every day.

Was Summer the “one” for Tom? I think so, at least in the way that a certain number of people could probably qualify as being the soulmate of one person. All that stuff is primarily related to geography anyway. Was he only remembering the “good” stuff about her, as his little sister seemed to think? I don’t think so. Well, to a point, yes, he probably was, but I think that he really did love her completely despite her personal inconsistencies. But I understand where she’s coming from. I really do. The look that Tom gives her in the park when her head is down before she gets up to leave is just wonderful. It’s what a broken heart looks like, but that's not all. It's so much more than that.

I think you understand.

"Strudel, party of 1, your table is ready."

2010-08-02T17:26:00.000-07:00

In the 2 years that the blog's been active, we've been very lucky to have the steady support of a core team of writers. But times change, people embark on new endeavors, and we've recently found ourselves with only one active team member/blogger. Me.

From the beginning, I saw this blog as a collaborative place where a group of people with different worldviews, tastes, and areas of expertise could come together to engage an audience with articles that were insightful, enjoyable, and, above all, could start a discussion. In the world we live in, it's not enough to just have a site where a person or group of people sit on a mountaintop and deliver maxims to the masses without allowing for the 2-lane highway of effective communication.

As such, when Megan & Christopher left to begin writing at Suspension of Disbelief, I knew that I didn't want to be the only person writing here at the blog. This is for 2 primary reasons. First, I didn't (and still don't) see myself as being prolific enough to be able to write a steady stream of articles that could not only attract new visitors, but also encourage people who stumbled across us to stick around. Second, my tastes, while eclectic, contain certain gaps that will simply have to be dealt with. I'm certainly not apologizing for what I like or don't like, but I want this blog to represent the diversity of preference that exists among cinephiles.

So, it's with great pleasure that I introduce a new member of our team. Kelly's been a friend of mine since the day we met as 2 parts of a guerilla marketing campaign gone (slightly) awry. She's not only a talented writer, but she also has a genuine passion for the movies that's just infectious.

I'm sure that she'll have more to say in the way of introductions, so I'll leave the rest of that to her. Just know that I'm glad to have her as a member of the team, and hope that you'll enjoy her take on the movies as much as I do.

-Adam

Totems & Trances

2010-07-18T20:08:00.001-07:00

I've tried very hard to avoid putting any spoilers in my review. That said, if you want the freshest experience possible with the film, it's probably best to watch and then come back to read.

Christopher Nolan is one of the smartest men in show business. He’s got an incredible knack for taking a story that you’ve heard before and giving it that little extra something to propel it into territory you’ve never visited. He’s done it with murder mysteries, superheroes, and magic tricks, and with Inception he tries to tackle the single most complex entity on the planet: the human mind.

Does he succeed? That’s going to depend in large part upon your definition of success. Is it the accomplishment of a certain set of goals and objectives predetermined by the narrative, or the ability to take the expectations of a viewer and supersede them? I suppose that I think of success as a combination of both variables, with the overriding hope that the piece is going to hold together thematically, conceptually, and emotionally.

To answer my question about whether or not Inception succeeds: well, mostly.

Ironically, the story that had seemed to be incredibly complex is actually rather straightforward. Cobb (a strong Leonardo DiCaprio) works as an extractor of information by infiltrating people’s dreams. In the real world, he’s unable to return home to his family because of some trouble with the law, and voila! Saito (Ken Watanabe, solid although sometimes unintelligible) offers him a dream job (no pun intended). If Cobb can plant an idea in the mind of his business rival, Saito will make all of his problems disappear.

One thing that struck me about much of the film is how much of it involves talking heads. Now, we certainly get our share of action, but there’s a ton of time where characters talk to one another explaining exactly what will happen later, what might happen later, and what they didn’t say originally about what could have happened later. Not necessarily a flaw, but certainly a point of interest in a film that seemed to promise a world of visual wonder after visual wonder. In fact, the biggest “wow” moment was already revealed in the trailer when the city folds back on top of itself and becomes, essentially, its own horizon.

The performances are uniformly good, with particular notice going to Tom Hardy. I thought he was great in Star Trek: Nemesis, and he’s very good here as a charming and very effective “forger.” I hope that he gets a chance to shine in a lead role sometime soon. Marion Cotillard, one of my favorites, is solid here, if not ascending to the heights that she’s capable of. (note: is it a coincidence that Edith Piaf’s Non, je ne regrette rien has such a pivotal role in Inception, given Ms. Cotillard's recent history? I think not.) Sadly, Ellen Page might have bitten off a little bit more than she could chew. Verbal comedy, her strength, is on a positively spartan diet here, and the way that she interprets some pivotal dialogue is very nearly groan-inducing. It’s great for the car to handle well when you’re driving through the countryside, but when it’s a matter of life and death, you’ve really got to hope that the thing’s going to be able to take the quick turns.

The real star of Inception is Christopher Nolan’s concept. The idea of people being able to enter dreams at will, to dream collectively, and to find endless amounts of time present in dreams within dreams is fascinating, to say the very least. The way that he deals with certain logistical problems is inventive, effective, and follows dream logic as “rationally” as possible. I’m very grateful for the fact that someone with Nolan’s clout is using the resources and talent available to him to make high-concept films that attempt to break new ground. In today’s cinematic landscape, filmmakers like him are sadly few and far between. We live in a world where it’s much safer to spin the same yarns over and over again with faces and minor details changed than it is to try to tell a truly original story that no one’s ever heard before. Sure, The Matrix and Minority Report come to mind as precursors, but Inception has an innovative spark of invention that sets it apart.

So why the hesitation? Why not proclaim it the cinema's newest masterpiece? Why not wax eloquent about how great Inception is?

Because, sadly, there are flaws. What’s incredibly unfortunate is that I cannot go into very much detail at all without discussing major plot points, and I wouldn’t dare spoil anything for someone who’s not seen the film. I will outline a few. While Nolan’s a brilliant conceptual thinker, I didn’t feel anywhere near the amount of emotion that the material should have been capable of generating. Some of the major plot motifs seemed simplistic and, while some of his directorial flourishes are nice touches, there are certain pivotal slow-motion shots that were unintentionally silly.

My single biggest problem with Inception is the ending. Unfortunately, I figured out a big part of it midway through the picture. With films, we may enjoy being one step ahead of where we feel we’re “supposed” to be, but what we really want is to be slapped sideways by something we never saw coming. While it ends (I suppose) the only way that it really can, I think Nolan painted himself into a bit of a corner. By ending it on the note that he did, he was forced to do something with the final shot of the film that I can’t help but think is a major cheat. I love the idea that it be the last image we see, but don't think that it works in execution.

I'm sure that a number of people are going to say, if they haven't already, that they can't wait to see Inception again (and again) to grasp the supposed riches within. I've felt similarly about many, many films in my life, but, strangely, in this case I'm not sure that a second viewing would really help me understand anything any better. We'll see. . .

Should you shell out some hard-earned cash for Inception? Yes, I’d say you should. Nolan’s risk-taking is something that you don’t see often enough, and it’s the single most audacious film you’re likely to see all summer. What’s unfortunate is that something that sets out to be this daring in its approach needs to be flat-out incredible to fulfill its potential, which Inception isn’t. Look, I enjoy a good game. I’m just not someone who loves being toyed with.

3.75 stars out of 5.

Toys United Against the Apocalypse

2010-06-26T00:37:00.000-07:00

Through the hard work of a tireless creative team, Pixar has achieved a state among cinephiles almost impossible for a production company to reach: deification. The idea of their inability to make a bad film seems to be accepted far and wide, though it’s a position I certainly don’t hold. Their last two films, WALL-E and Up, while receiving massive accolades both professional and personal, didn’t rank very highly in my book. See, when Pixar gets it right, it’s scary how right it is. That said, when they miss the mark, even by a little, it’s so obvious as to stick out like a snail on Judgment Day. So, right at the point where they’re being praised for outdoing themselves, I’ve been lamenting a two-picture slide toward the merely ordinary. For my money, Pixar hadn’t put out a really good movie since Ratatouille in 2007, and I wasn’t anticipating Toy Story 3 breaking them out of that slump. Come on, didn’t you see Toy Story 2? What more of an ending did you really need? Why wait 11 years to make a third film? Why switch directors when John Lasseter clearly knows this territory better than anyone else? Then, as the release date rolled around, the usual stuff started happening. The rave reviews started coming in, people started gushing about how much they loved it, and I went the Monday after opening weekend to see for myself . . .

Friends, the dry streak is over. Toy Story 3 is rather wonderful. I felt this film more deeply than I have any other Pixar film I can think of.

The story’s fairly simple. Andy’s seventeen, going to college, and has to decide what to do with his long-forgotten toys, who’ve been patiently waiting for the day when they have the chance to be there for him again. Through happenstance, Woody, Buzz and the gang (minus a few principals. Come back, Wheezy!) end up at a day care center where things aren’t anything close to being what they seem. Now, they’ve got to figure out what to do, what their responsibility to Andy is, and how on earth they’re ever going to get out of the mess they’ve gotten into.

Some of the usual themes are explored, but with different implications. The toys have always known that Andy’s going to outgrow them, but now that moment’s actually arrived. Woody’s always been the clear leader of the group and their focus has always been on what’s best for Andy, but now Buzz and the others have to think of their own best interests in a way they’ve never had to before.

There are great things to be found here. I think Pixar’s best moments come in their incredibly skillful use of the montage, and that’s in evidence here. There’s a sequence that tells the story of a pink plush bear that’s one of the film’s best. The animation, not surprisingly, is fantastic. It’s wondrous how, even if I’ve been at times unconvinced by some of their narrative choices, each film represents a step forward for CG animated film. The narrative is surprisingly dark, with some remarkably sinister images that I think could prove frightening for the average kid. If you’ve ever lamented the fact that a lot of animated films tend to play it safe and wished that they’d try to be more like a so-called “real” movie (as if there was such a thing), Toy Story 3 represents a definite step outward, though I’m not sure if I'd consider it to be a step “forward.” There are some incredibly stark images here that are among the bleakest ever created for an animated film. Additionally, Toy Story 3 is wonderfully funny. Where the last few Pixar films at times seemed to rely on sight gags that were clever but not laugh-out-loud funny, this one commits, and I laughed and laughed. Two words: Spanish mode.

But there’s more to it than all that. When Toy Story 3 finished, I felt that my soul had been touched, and I wasn’t expecting that.

I’ve been trying to figure out what caused me to bond so closely with the film. Is it because it’s got an incredible story? No, I don’t really think that’s it. The story of the toys’ adventures in the day care center is one of a dozen different scenarios that could have been used for Toy Story 3. No, it’s not that.

What I’ve come to understand is this. I don’t think these films are about children and their toys at all. I think they’re about the relationship between parents and children, with the toys being the stand-in for the parents. The toys/parents want the child to always stay the same, continuously rely on them for love/support, and to receive as much love back as they give out. However, the inherent problem with this idea is that children can’t do any of these things. It’s a fundamental part of life that a child must not only grow up but also grow out. Certainly, there are exceptions to this, but children can’t help but move away from a place of dependency toward a position of independence and self reliance. What Toy Story 3, and, indeed, the whole series, does so brilliantly is illustrate this change in a tangible way. When the toys are left out of sight and out of mind in the chest, we almost take it personally. “Dagnabit, Andy! I don’t care if you ARE 17. Get in here and play with these toys. They deserve better than this!” As I’ve grown older, I’ve been forced to think long and hard about my relationships with my parents, the nature of the passage of time, and the direction of my own life. Toy Story 3 started my internal dialogue afresh.

I would not dream of telling you how the film ends and the ultimate fate of the toys. Know only that I found myself choked up, grateful for what is very nearly a perfect conclusion to the story of some bits of plastic and nylon that loved a young boy who became a young man and loved each other too.

4 1/2 stars out of 5.

Happy Trails

2010-06-20T16:06:00.000-07:00

Well folks, you may have noticed I've been a bit absent from the site lately, as has Christopher. The thing is, as much as we've loved writing for this blog we've found our time being sucked in other directions. We've been pushing our film, brainstorming new projects and generally trying to get more creativity started that might give us a film career instead of a film hobby plus a full time desk job.

So, we've decided we have to stop blogging here. I have so many other blogs I write on my own, and Christopher and I just started our own, and with all the balls we have in the air something had to go.

I am very sorry this is the thing that had to go, but I had to cut something and for me this was what I knew could keep going without me. Christopher made the same decision.

I've known Adam since before he wanted to be a writer and I wanted to be a director, so to get to be a part of this with him has been a pleasure. I can't wait to see who he gets to continue writing with him, and maybe someday I can pick up a keyboard again and guest on the blog, but for now this is my farewell.

I hope that any of you that have enjoyed the posts from Christopher or I will continue to follow our progress. I've listed our other links at the end of this post for you to explore if you see fit.

Thank you Adam, and dear readers for making this a great blogging experience for me. I hope I have left you with a little more love for that thing called cinema than you came in with.

Here's looking at you kids.

The Director's Narrative: Megan's story
The Director Is In: Movie reviews by Megan
Suspension of Disbelief: The site to find out what Megan & Chris are working on and what they think
@endmovie: The twitter for our movie

Pocket Thoughts: Hobbits and Mad Hatters

2010-06-01T19:46:00.001-07:00

A few days ago, it was announced that Guillermo Del Toro had stepped down from his position as the director of the two Hobbit films. Apparently, the delays in obtaining a start date for the shoot was adding on too much time to his already considerable commitment. He’d promised 3 years, but the project was starting to look like it would take double that to complete. I really can’t say that I blame him for moving on because we’re not exactly talking in days or months, are we? I’m sure that he’s undoubtedly got the next several years worth of projects lined up, which isn’t surprising, given Del Toro’s creative capacity. An extra 3 years just isn’t something that he’s willing to give, nor should it be.

That said, I’m a bit apprehensive as to who’s going to take over the ship. GDT has agreed to take the next 6 months or so to finish the screenplays with Peter Jackson, Phillipa Boyens, and Fran Walsh, for which I’m grateful. That said, the future of the project seems to be doubt. From the start, I’ve always thought that Peter Jackson should be the one to do it, which isn’t exactly the most original thought, although it’s one that I still believe makes the most sense. He’s the single most experienced filmmaker in the world when it comes to how to make a movie in Middle-Earth. When he made it clear that he wasn’t interested in directing these films and GDT was announced as the primary creative wunderkind behind them, I was pleased. Sure, he wasn’t my first choice, but if Jackson wasn’t up for it, the guy who brought the terrifyingly wonderful world of Pan’s Labyrinth to life was the next best thing. Now, I can only hope that Peter Jackson decides to take the reigns himself. I’m not optimistic, but I’ll hope against hope that it happens until it’s set in stone that it’ll be someone else. If things aren’t resolved soon, I think we might be looking at the release dates being pushed back even further.

Is it just me, or has Tim Burton’s Alice in Wonderland made the quietest billion dollars a film’s ever made? Think about it. When Titanic, any of the Lord of the Rings films, The Dark Knight, or Avatar were headed for 9 zeroes, it was blatantly obvious that they were on track for big money, right? Usually, these types of movies have multiple weekends at #1, people won’t shut up about them, and folks go back to the theater time and time again for repeat viewings. Now, Alice in Wonderland did spend 3 weeks in the top spot, but last week when someone said, “did you know that Alice in Wonderland hit a billion dollars?” it just seemed like it wasn’t possible. I liked the movie well enough, even though I thought that the fairly standard fantasy action movie of the last 20 minutes or so didn’t fit with the wonderfully atmospheric first two acts.

I may not the guru of all things moviemoneymagic, but the fifth highest-grossing film of all time? Really? How did this happen?

And the sun went down on the French Riviera . . .

2010-05-23T18:56:00.000-07:00

After 12 days, the Cannes Film Festival has come to a close. The grand consensus seems to be that this year’s lineup wasn’t terribly impressive, though I would no doubt find myself pondering the necessity of having two arms if I were offered a chance to have been able to go. I thought that I had a decent shot at predicting the awards, but, no surprise, the jury surprised me yet again. After last year’s pretty unsurprising victory by The White Ribbon, which seemingly ran away with the Palme d’Or, maybe I (unintentionally, of course) let a little pride sneak into the good old psyche. Let’s just say that my early handicap was pretty far off, and I’ve learned my lesson. And I thought the Academy was tough . . .

Helpful hint: keep in mind that the Festival almost never gives any one film more than one award.

Feature Films

Palme d'Or - Lung Boonmee Raluek Chat (Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives) directed by Apichatpong Weerasethakul
A total surprise. I thought that either Another Year, The Housemaid, Des Hommes Et Des Dieux, or maybe even Copie Conforme would get it, so the jury’s choice is surprising. I’ve heard interesting things about the film, but nothing to suggest that it was a major contender for the Palme.

Grand Prix - Des Hommes Et Des Dieux (Of Gods And Men) directed by Xavier Beauvois
The response was very positive for the film, so winning what’s essentially Cannes’ “second prize” makes sense. I'd not heard of it until the festival began, and now it's on my must-see list.

Award for Best Director - Mathieu Amalric for Tournée (On Tour)
I heard that this film wasn’t particularly good, so Amalric’s victory in this category seems like a nod for the home team’s guy.

Award for Best Screenplay - Lee Chang-dong for Poetry
Poetry has had really strong buzz, and I’d heard its star, Yoon Jeong-hee, was a potential contender for best actress. As that didn’t happen, the jury’s decision to honor the film elsewhere is understandable.

Award for Best Actress - Juliette Binoche in Copie Conforme (Certified Copy) directed by Abbas Kiarostami
HOORAY! Binoche is one of my favorite actresses, and her victory is one that gives me great pleasure. Despite the less-than-stellar reviews for the film, the winner of the Prix d'interprétation féminine would inspire me to watch a film about just about anything. However, think about this : despite the acclaim for Binoche’s work shown here, do you think the Festival’s posterchild will get an Oscar nomination? Sadly, I have every reason to doubt that’ll happen.

Award for Best Actor (tie) - Javier Bardem in Biutiful directed by Alejandro González Iñárritu
Elio Germano in La Nostra Vita (Our Life) directed by Daniele Luchetti
Bardem’s been considered a contender for this one since the film premiered. As for the tie with Germano, I’m surprised. I didn’t hear anything about La Nostra Vita, and don’t know much of anything about it. That’ll have to change, and soon.

Jury Prize - Un Homme Qui Crie (A Screaming Man) directed by Mahamat-Saleh Haroun
The first film from Chad to be included as a part of the Official Selection, and the first to win an award. I’ve heard good things.

Short Films

Palme d'Or/Short Film - Chienne D'histoire (Barking Island) directed by Serge Avédikian

Jury Prize/Short Film - Micky Bader (Bathing Micky) directed by Frida Kempff

The State of Things as I See it

2010-05-19T11:36:00.001-07:00

Brick (2005)
Originally uploaded by ∆P

I don’t post much of my personal journey on this blog, I have another blog for that, but I’ve realized that some of my personal experience has to do with film so I can post a bit here.

I consider myself a part-time filmmaker – one that wants to become a full-time director. Last June I completed my first feature film, entirely self-financed and made using cinematic tricks & volunteer labor from the most talented group of people I have the fortune of knowing and having worked with. My film school education carried me up to that point, the point where I had the final cut in the can & celebrated with a bottle of wine that I had completed an 85 minute film. END was no longer just words on a page, it was images, edits, sound design, color timing and fantastic performances.

Ever since then my film has been a learning experience for me. While I knew the independent film market had been rapidly changing for years, experiencing that first hand is a totally different matter.

If you’ve watched the Independent Spirit Awards in the past few years you’ve probably come to realize that you recognize most of the audience. There was a time however, when most people, even most geeks, didn’t know what the Spirit Awards were. I remember when my brother met Kevin Smith & congratulated him on his Spirit Award and Smith was shocked someone knew he won it. Now, the awards are televised and considered one of the many events of the awards season. I feel that this is indicative of the change in independent film itself.

To be an indy film used to mean that you had no stars, you as a filmmaker were a completely blank slate to the filmmaking community and very few people had ever heard of you or your film. In most cases an audience member reading about your film that getting into Telluride or Sundance had a better chance of getting hit by a car than ever being able to see your film in their local theatre. This doesn’t seem to be the case anymore.

Just as the indy music scene became the indy music genre, independent film seems to have become less of a movement created by the impenetrable walls of the Hollywood system and more about the kinds of stories you tell regardless of how recognizable the names involved with the films are, or the amount of money you spent to tell it.

In my opinion this is both a blessing and a curse. The fact that daring movies can be made in a subset of the system, by voices that are different is an amazing thing. Without this we could not have directors like Jason Reitman, Rian Johnson, or Richard Kelly. It means that films like The Hurt Locker, Donnie Darko, Brick, Frozen River and Wendy & Lucy make it to a screen near you or DVD instead of only the archives of film festivals.

Yet, this influx of an indy genre instead of films also means filmmakers like me have a tougher time getting noticed. I’ve written a lot on this subject before, so I am not going to rant again, but I spent most of the past decade idolizing directors like Kevin Smith, Bryan Singer, Robert Rodriguez & Christopher Nolan – they are all directors that got their notice on the festival circuit using films that had little in terms of budget and no one that was recognizable. While there are always exceptions to the rule, I’m not sure this is possible any more.

If you are a festival programmer who has to choose between two films – a big indy and a micro indy what would you choose? Let’s say Film A had a budget of $2 million, was shot on film, and managed to get Ed Harris, Virginia Madsen, or even Christian Bale to star, and Film B had a budget of $500 grand (if they are lucky), shot on video or Super 16, and cast 6 actors that you kind of recognize because they’ve done background work for the past ten 10 years – which film would you choose to get attendees to buy tickets?

I’m really not complaining; I’m just trying to state the facts. What was already a tight, tough market, has become tougher and part of that is our own fault. With the advent of affordable filmmaking technology it’s no longer as grand a feat to pump out and cut together a story, and once big stars started jumping on the band wagon and brought the films out of obscurity it’s become the norm to have known names behind and in your work – so indy film has fallen into the old Hollywood trap – it is once again about connections and who you know to get your movie made and seen.

I still love independent film, and my desire to become a working director has not faded. However, what my filmmaking experience thus far has taught me is that on my second time out I will need to up my game. Perhaps the second time around I can attract the financing or names I need to get my film seen – and I’m going to hope that someday someone is writing a blog that includes my name as a person whose first films inspired them too.

Pocket Thoughts: Buzz and Beauty

2010-05-18T12:56:00.001-07:00

I saw this a few days ago and fell a little bit in love. It's one of the finest movie posters I've seen in quite some time. You can watch the trailer for the film here. Unfortunately, I've never seen any of Abbas Kiarostami's films, though I'll hopefully change that soon. I think I'll start with Taste of Cherry, and (no surprise) Copie Conforme just got added to my list. I think Juliette Binoche could make just about anything worth watching. . .

In other news, I've been following the buzz out of Cannes and, from what I gather, The Housemaid and Another Year are the early favorites for the Palme d'Or. It's still early yet, so we'll see. In my book, any new film from Mike Leigh is automatically worth seeing.

No word yet on Biutiful, Alejandro González Iñárritu's first film without Guillermo Arriaga. It'll be interesting to see what direction he'll go on his "own." It did take 2 other screenwriters to finish the thing, so who knows? Arriaga never had another writer credited on the scripts he wrote for AGI. Just sayin' . . .

The Con Man Who Accidentally Became A Hero

2010-05-16T18:39:00.000-07:00

While I’m not in the south of France this week, I do have the chance to talk about Cannes’ opening night film, because, through some strange happening, Robin Hood opened here in America less than a week after its premiere at the Festival.

Essentially, if you like Russell Crowe, Cate Blanchett, and battles on a grand scale, you’ll like Robin Hood. If you’re looking for a by-the-book interpretation of the traditional story, you’ll most likely have a different reaction. It’s certainly not essential cinema, but for what it is, it’s solid.

The film clocks in at a breezy 2 hours and 20 minutes, though it feels much shorter, which I believe is to its credit. If you’re watching a so-called “long” movie and are surprised when it’s done “already,” it’s certainly a cut above the traditional posture of head on fist or (god forbid) the perpetual banging of skull with plastic water bottle to keep awake.

Originally, the project was going to be called Nottingham and was to feature Crowe as a heroic Sheriff of Nottingham. Ridley Scott was apparently less than thrilled with this concept and moved to take the script in a much more traditional direction.

Or not.

Robin Hood is not the usual story of an outlaw in Sherwood Forest accompanied by a band of misfits who go about doing good and evading the clutches of the evil Sheriff. This story is set against the backdrop of an invasion by the French against a leadership-challenged, newly established King John. Robin Longstride (Crowe) pretends to be Robin of Loxley (nice touch, no?), one thing leads to another, and Robin finds himself a key figure in what must happen.

Crowe and Blanchett are solid, although their roles don’t exactly challenge them in any kind of way. It occurs to me that their parts might be generic in that they could have been played by any number of actors, where, on the other hand, can you imagine anyone else as Maximus in Gladiator or Elizabeth I in Elizabeth and Elizabeth: The Golden Age? I can’t. Seeing Max von Sydow, one of cinema’s greatest actors, was a pleasant surprise, though his performance is a far cry from the brilliance of his work with Ingmar Bergman.

On one level, I quite enjoyed the film, though I was surprised that it didn’t involve the conventional trappings of the Robin Hood story. I wonder if it’s entirely fair to bill it as “Robin Hood” at all, as the film I saw really isn’t quote-unquote Robin Hood so much as it’s the origin story for what is clearly intended to be a franchise. I don’t know how well this is going to work, as Ridley Scott’s never really gotten involved in making a series of films. (no, Alien doesn’t count, as he only directed the first film) Additionally, Russell Crowe’s previous attempt at anchoring the first film in a series, 2003’s wonderful Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World, failed to generate the revenue to warrant a follow-up.

Based on the returns of Robin Hood’s opening weekend, an estimated $111.1 million. I’m not so sure this is going to happen. That amount looks great on paper, but the film’s budget was approximately $237 million. For a film to be considered a success, it generally has to make 2 ½ - 3 times its budget. So, for Robin Hood to make some dough and get that sequel greenlit, we’re looking at a hopeful return of almost $600 million. You really think that’s in the cards?

3 ½ stars out of 5.

In a little town by the sea . . .

2010-05-12T14:00:00.000-07:00

Apologies for my absence. I, Adam, destroyer of worlds and recovering slacker, resolve to post much more frequently.

Ah, Cannes, sweet Cannes, the time has come again! Every May, I turn my attention here and here. For the next 12 days, my body will be at work, at home, and about town, but my heart will be in France at the Cannes Film Festival. Sadly, I’ve never been able to attend in person, although one day that’s going to change, and is a fact that you could bet Vegas money on the level of the certainty of death and 5 more celebrity relationships to go south before finishing this lovely read. Strange? I think not.

Out of all of the film festivals I can think of, with the exception of A Pilgrimage, (which remains one of the best ideas in recent memory) Cannes is the one that I look at with the most respect. It serves as a major influence upon my own plans as to which films I resolve to see in the coming year. Quite simply, Cannes plays the types of films I like to watch.

In some ways, the winner of the Palme d’Or could be considered to be a more valid title-holder than the film awarded Best Picture by the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences. Think about it for a moment. The Academy tends to recognize films that are in English and funded/released by a major American studio. Of course, having big names in the cast doesn’t hurt a film’s chances either. On the other hand, the field at Cannes is nothing if not multinational, tends to be much edgier than the Academy’s nominees, and isn’t based nearly so much on sadly misguided notions of hierarchy within the film industry. Think that the Academy’s decision to start nominating 10 films for its top prize is a good one? This year, Cannes is screening 18 films in competition, and I wouldn't dream of trying to handicap the race.

Additionally, the festival allows for a much different type of selection process. Instead of a vote put to a membership of over 6,000 members, the winners at Cannes are decided by a 9 member jury. And what a jury! This year, the jury’s president is Tim Burton and is rounded out by Kate Beckinsale, Giovanna Mezzogiorno, Alberto Barbera, Emmanuel Carrere, Benicio del Toro, Victor Erice, Shekhar Kapur, and Alexandre Desplat.

Think for a minute. If you look at the last couple of films that have won the top prize at Cannes, how many have you seen? How many have you even heard of? If we wanted to dig even deeper, how about the films in competition for the past 5 years? That list contains films from some of the most talented artists at work in film today, and the so-called “mainstream” is largely oblivious to it.

I think I’ll keep puttering around in my little stream, thank you very much.

AVENGERS... AND MIRAMAX ASSEMBLED!!!

2010-04-17T23:00:00.000-07:00

Hey there folks! A few pretty spectacularly cool bits of news have hit over the past week or so, things that are so cool I can’t help but feel they need at least some sort of mentioning because if nothing else they’ve gotten this geek’s heart all a flutter.

THE WEINSTEINS ARE NEARING A DEAL TO BUY BACK MIRAMAX: If you remember a little while back I reported with great sadness about the shuttering of the once giant of independent cinema, Miramax Films. Well, it’s beginning to look like that may be the best thing that could have ever happened. It is beginning to look like that within the next few weeks Bob and Harvey will have the company back under their control and if you ask me that just makes all right with the world.

Now I’ll be the first to admit that I have a bit of a love / hate relationship with Miramax. If you know anything about the company you know they can be an independent film maker’s greatest ally or most insurmountable foe. From my own personal perspective the idea of some day working with the Weinsteins gives me sweet dreams and horrid nightmares all at the same time. Having said that though one would have a hard time arguing that Bob and Harvey don’t know what they’re doing.

No matter how you slice it the world of independent film just hasn’t been the same since the Weinsteins split from their name namesake. Since their split both parties have sort of felt like gutless impersonators, mere shadows of their former glorious selves. To anyone that follows the world of movies it quickly became obvious that Miramax and the Weinsteins are intrinsically, indelibly linked and that apart they’re nowhere near the hurricane like force of ballsy, independent bravado that brought us some of the best films and film makers of the last 20 years. Thankfully it’s looking like all that is going to be changing very soon and if I had to place money on it I’d be very surprised if Miramax wasn’t once again carving a lasting swath through the cinematic landscape in the not too distant future.

You’ve heard Megan and I complain at nauseum about the current state of independent film and while I don’t think the reemergence of Miramax films is the end all be all solution to the problems plaguing independent film makers the world over, I can’t help but think that it returning to its former glory can’t help that same world either. Under the Miramax banner Bob and Harvey Weinstein showed that they were just about the most audacious, gutsy, unrefined yet brilliantly driven and dedicated producers the world of cinema has ever seen. These were the guys that gave us Steven Sorderbergh, Robert Rodriguez, Kevin Smith and Quentin Tarantino to name a few. One can only hope (And I count myself amongst the hopeful) that now that they’re back in the game perhaps they’ll do what they do best and introduce the world to a whole new crop of cinematic genius and more importantly geniuses.

JOSS WHEDON TO DIRECT THE AVENGERS: No joke, no exaggeration, I actually got goose bumps when I learned that Joss Whedon had been tapped to direct THE AVENGERS, the culmination of all of Marvels various franchises such as IRON MAN, THE INCREDIBLE HULK, THOR, CAPTAIN AMERICA and so on into what could be the biggest, most badass superhero film ever.

For the longest time it was assumed that Jon Favreau would helm this super superhero film, but within the past 6 months it became apparent that this wasn’t going to happen (Thanks to COWBOYS AND ALIENS starring Daniel Craig and Harrison Ford which is another pretty cool piece of news by the way). Since then plenty of names have been bandied about, the most prevalent of which being Louis Letterier the man behind the helm of THE INCREDIBLE HULK and the recent CLASH OF THE TITANS. Then around the beginning of the month a rumor started spreading that Marvel was talking to Joss Whedon. Since this news hit around April 1st, everyone just assumed it was a prank and went about their lives. Over the next few weeks the rumor grew, but still no one actually believed such a thing would EVER happen. I mean it was a fanboy wet-dream, the kind of scenario you talk about with other geeks when you’ve downed a few too many beers and you start discussing the most impossible hypothetical situations you can think of. That’s all this rumor ever was, until earlier this week it turned out to be true and fanboys the world over lost their freaking minds, myself included.

I could go on for several pages as to why the selection of Joss Whedon to helm THE AVENGERS is one of perhaps the single greatest ideas in the history of movies. I could argue with those that are apprehensive because Whedon was already attached to another big budget comic book movie a few years ago, WONDER WOMAN, but dropped out and why that won’t happen this time or how in the long run this move makes A LOT of sense from both Whedon and Marvel’s perspective, but I’m not going to do that because I’m really not sure my words can do it all justice.

Pound for Pound Joss Whedon is probably the single best creative voice to have come out of Hollywood in the last 20 years. That’s not an opinion that’s a fact and you either understand and agree with me because you are one of his die hard fans (With Whedon there are no other kind) of you’re not and that’s simply because you haven’t seen enough of his work. If you question this move, if you can’t figure out why Marvel would hand over the reigns of perhaps the most important comic book film ever made to a man who only has ONE feature film directorial credit under his belt, then I order you to go watch BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER all the way through, all seven seasons. After that watch ANGEL all the way through, then FIREFLY, SERENITY and DOLLHOUSE. Once you’ve done that check out DR. HORRIBLE’S SING-ALONG BLOG and pick up his run on Astonishing X-Men or The Runaways. After all that, if you’re not completely convinced that he isn’t the PERFECT guy for the job and you’re not a ravenous fan… you need to have your head checked because there really is something wrong with you.

There is also currently a rumor floating around that Whedon will take a crack at reshaping not only THE AVENGERS script but also help fine tune some of the other scripts for the other movies (Such as CAPTAIN AMERICA) that will be leading up to his opus. Whether that’s true or not I honestly can’t remember the last time I was this excited by a piece of entertainment news. This isn’t quite Lucas announcing he was going to finally make Episodes I through III but its pretty close. To put it in a context that’s slightly closer to home, the last time such a synchronously perfect pairing of film maker and material was announced was when Warner Brothers tapped Christopher Nolan to take over the Batman franchise and we all saw how well that turned out. Believe me if this all pans out minds won’t be blown, they’ll be full on eviscerated.

I know what he means

2010-04-13T23:31:00.000-07:00

"I would like to build a house with my films. Some are the cellars, others the walls, still others the windows. But I hope in the end it will be a house."

-Rainer Werner Fassbinder

Say Huh?

2010-04-08T08:54:00.001-07:00

Everybody likes an old movie
Originally uploaded by ƒreg

I’m not sure if it was a rumor or a real news break that hit yesterday but it came out that Bill Condon will direct Breaking Dawn, the final two film end to the Twilight Saga. If this had been announced on April 1st I would have assumed it was a joke.

Bill Condon of Dreamgirls, Kinsey, Gods & Monsters & Chicago to direct the overblown, anti-clamactic ending to a badly made franchise???

I think I’m just going to keep saying it until It sounds possible.

Bill Condon may direct Breaking Dawn.

Bill Condon to direct Breaking Dawn.

Bill Condon will possibly direct Breaking Dawn.

Bill Condon to direct Breaking Dawn.

Bill Condon is directing Breaking Dawn.

Bill Condon to direct Breaking Dawn.

Bill Condon to direct Breaking Dawn.

Bill Condon to direct Breaking Dawn.

Bill Condon might direct Breaking Dawn.

Bill Condon to direct Breaking Dawn.

Bill Condon to direct Breaking Dawn.

Bill Condon to direct Breaking Dawn.

Bill Condon to direct Breaking Dawn.

Bill Condon may direct Breaking Dawn.

Bill Condon to direct Breaking Dawn.

Bill Condon to direct Breaking Dawn.

Bill Condon to direct Breaking Dawn.

Bill Condon to direct Breaking Dawn.

Nope…not sounding possible yet. Well, at least the Gus Van Sant or Sophia Coppola rumor died.

Thoughts from Tarantino/Thoughts about Herzog

2010-04-06T23:35:00.000-07:00

I came across these today and wanted to share them with you. Good stuff.

FotM: Oscar's Dark Side

2010-04-05T02:06:00.000-07:00

There are times when I despair of writing about the movies at all. How can you take something that can be so vast and encompass it into a few hundred words of text on a white screen in such a way that someone, anyone, would actually want to read it? I guess I’m still trying to figure that one out. When I read the critics that I enjoy and respect most, there’s a sense of something greater at work. With Roger Ebert, it’s this idea that a movie can show us something about how to live our lives and what makes us more or less human. With Manohla Dargis, it’s this notion of how the movie she’s talking about fits into the scheme of things culturally and within the history of cinema. Peter Travers is kind of like everyone's secret hipster uncle giving it to them straight up, and if you like something he thinks is bad? HOW COULD YOU? Then . . . me. I guess I fit in there somewhere. It seems that, despite all the eloquent deconstruction I want to be good at, I should really just shoot from the hip until I get it right. In the end, all the imitation in the world isn’t going to add up to anything worth reading or worth writing.

Now, Best Picture. . .

I haven’t seen all 82 of the winners of the Academy’s big prize. I’ve only seen 34, which is less than I would like. I could choose one, watch it, and dissect it piece by piece (or, at least, I would like to imagine that I have that kind of dexterity at my disposal), but I don’t think that would be interesting.

Instead, let’s talk about the elephant in Oscar’s bedroom.

Crash.

I didn’t see the film until a few years after it had won the Oscar in dramatic fashion, upsetting Brokeback Mountain, the heavy favorite and winner of almost every other “best film” award this side of kingdom come. It went something like this. I’m at the store looking at the DVDs and I see Crash. I’ve heard that it’s very good, so I start considering the idea of buying it, which is more of a foregone conclusion at that point, because I’m terrible at telling myself no when it comes to something like that. I text a friend to ask his opinion. He suggests renting it instead of buying it, as he’s seen it and knows a bit about what I like. I don’t listen, buy it anyway, and watch it either that night or later that week.

At this point, all I knew was that a lot of people were incensed that Crash had won Best Picture, and others had said that it was an incredible viewing experience. Now, suddenly, I understood.The Oscar is supposed to recognize excellence in filmmaking, and if we’re lucky, what gets that recognition will be of the best work of that particular year. Despite that, Crash was clearly not high-quality filmmaking, not the best work of 2005, and certainly NOT even that good of a movie on its own merits.

I’m not opposed to the idea of film challenging popularly held cultural beliefs and forcing us to see things we recognize within people we don’t know. I actually think that’s one of the highest functions that any art form can fulfill. Some of the best films I’ve ever seen have done just that to spectacular, unforgettable effect.

The trouble with Crash isn’t in the grandiosity of its reach. The problem with the film is in the clumsy, heavy-handed, and simplistic way it goes about doing it. The idea is straightforward. In Los Angeles, there’s a group of ethnically diverse people whose lives are suddenly and violently going to crash together. Along the way, the notion is that the film’s supposed to illustrate the inbred racial prejudices present within all of us.

This concept isn’t exactly brand-new. Robert Altman built a legacy on ensemble casts wandering in and out of each other’s lives. In more recent years, Paul Thomas Anderson has done much the same thing.

On some level, I get what people who dig this movie see in it, but I have a hard time believing that audiences really respond to such amateurish schlock. Despite my (shall we say) distaste for it, there are individual moments within Crash that are effective. The sequence where Matt Dillon pulls Thandie Newton out of a burning car was effective and even gripping. The scene where Anthony Pena comforts his infant daughter is touching. The bit where Don Cheadle buys groceries for his mother, even though she thinks his missing brother is the one doing it, is moving. . . and those are pretty much the only major examples I can think of.

Sadly, much of the rest of the film results in characters talking about how other people from different ethnic backgrounds don’t understand them, witnessing incredibly coincidental incidents that somehow just happen to bring them together, and then realizing that gee, we aren’t so different after all and maybe if we just stopped making assumptions based on race/ethnicity, the world might be a better place.

I could have told you all that, and I wouldn’t have needed an hour and fifty-two minutes to do it.

Paul Haggis, the film’s director and co-writer, certainly isn’t without talent. You’ve heard me wax long-toothed about my out-and-out love for Million Dollar Baby, one of my favorite films, and my admiration for In the Valley of Elah. I just don’t understand how someone who’s capable of such good work turned out something that plays like a film school student’s attempt at a feature film, albeit a student with an A-list cast to work with.

Three more things: First, know I texted my friend back and said, “I wished I’d listened to you.” I bet he loved hearing that. Second, Annie Proulx isn’t the sore loser I thought she was. Third, I sold the DVD as soon as I was able to. Crash is no longer is a part of my collection, thanks be.

A lot people don’t put much stock in what wins an Oscar. Even though I watch the show religiously every year, I have to admit that much of it is a popularity contest with a heavy slant toward films made by Brits or Americans. Despite that, a lot of times, I’m ok, pleased, or even thrilled with what wins.

Not here.

"Honey, there's a spider in your bathroom the size of a Buick." FOTM: ANNIE HALL

2010-04-04T23:03:00.000-07:00

I’m breaking the rules here a little bit because for this Feature of the Month assignment we are supposed to talk about a past Best Picture winner that we had never seen before that we recently watched. Well, the film I’m going to talk about I probably saw at least a year ago, if not longer and since then I’ve seen several other Best Picture winners such as IT HAPPENED ONE NIGHT (Totally deserving of all the love it gets) and several others, but out of all of them the one that struck me the most and still sticks with me to this day is a film that had to fight an uphill battle into my heart right from the very beginning. Not only could it be classified as a “Romantic Comedy”, one of my most accursed film genres but like THE HURT LOCKER and AVATAR it’s the little film that came out of nowhere and slew the giant, it was the David to one of, if not THE biggest Goliath of all time. It is Woody Allen’s stunningly brilliant ANNIE HALL.

For the longest time I resented the crap out of this movie because to me, no matter what it will always be the film that beat out STAR WARS for the Best Picture Oscar. So great was my resentment that I never even bothered to see this movie up until a little while ago. As soon as I did I immediately understood why this film has achieved that level of acclaim.

One of the reasons I hate most romantic comedies is because they don’t try, they all fit with a pat, predictable formula and very often they’re not even attempting to engage the reader on any other level than a cute, fuzzy, sentimental one. That is what makes ANNIE HALL so awesome and refreshing, it is a movie that digs deep into people, their relationships and the things that spring out of those relationships, those things that effect us in a way that almost no other human experience can. In fact when one takes a step back and looks at ANNIE HALL it is understandable if some have a hard time classifying as a romantic comedy at all. I think to call it a comedy / drama about life and love might be a much more accurate, yet long winded genre description.

One of my favorite movies of last year and perhaps the last few years was 500 DAYS OF SUMMER but I’ll be the first to admit (As would the film makers) that it would never exist if Woody Allen hadn’t blazed such a unique, brutally honest path across the cinematic landscape all those years ago. In fact I’d venture to say any truly smart, sophisticated stab at the oft tired story telling pattern of boy meets girl, boy loses girl, boy gets girl, from WHEN HARRY MET SALLY to television shows like HOW I MET YOUR MOTHER has at least some small debt of gratitude to pay to Woody Allen’s classic.

My sister says that she thinks ANNIE HALL is quite literally a perfect film and I’m inclined to agree with her. Woody Allen has made a lot of movies, some good, some bad but far and away this is his masterpiece. I don’t think there is a single solitary thing I would change about this film. It is one of the VERY few movies that is flawless. The film is small and intimate, yet completely universal. It is a master class in writing, directing and everything else in between. I still like STAR WARS more than this film but there’s no denying it as an American classic worthy of every single shred of praise it receives.