Atonement- 1/6/08
The Golden Compass- 1/12/08
Cloverfield- 1/19/08
The Diving Bell and the Butterfly- 1/20/08
The Savages- 1/25/08
Persepolis- 2/8/08
Be Kind Rewind- 2/22/08
In Bruges- 3/19/08
Miss Pettigrew Lives For A Day- 3/29/08
Young @ Heart- 4/19/08
Smart People- 4/20/08
The Band's Visit- 4/27/08
Iron Man- 5/10/08
Topsy-Turvy- 4/30/08
The Visitor- 6/6/06
Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull- 6/8/08
The Fall- 6/22/08
Get Smart- 6/25/08
Wall-E- 6/27/08
Wanted- 6/29/08
The Incredible Hulk- 7/4/08
Hellboy II: The Golden Army- 7/12/08
Hancock- 7/13/08
The Dark Knight- 7/18/08
Wall-E- 7/19/08
Pineapple Express- 8/10/8
The Dark Knight: Imax Experience- 8/10/08
Vicky Cristina Barcelona- 8/23/08
The Little Mermaid Sing Along- 8/24/08
Hamlet 2- 8/31/08
Tropic Thunder- 9/7/08
Girl Cut In Two- 9/12/08
Burn After Reading- 9/13/08
Miracle at St. Anna- 10/3/2008
Choke- 10/5/2008
Cool Hand Luke- 10/7/2008
W.- 10/17/08
Rachel Getting Married- 10/18/08
Ashes of Time: Redux- 10/24/08
Happy Go Lucky- 11/01/08
Rock n Rolla- 11/06/08
Synecdoche, NY- 11/13/08
Quantum of Solace- 11/14/08
Passion of Joan of Arc- 11/23/08
Milk- 11/27/08
Slumdog Millionaire- 11/23/08
Ciao- 12/14/08
The Wrestler- 12/22/08
The Curious Case of Benjamin Button- 12/25/08
Revolutionary Road- 12/26/08
Let The Right One In- 1/9/2009
Taken- 2/01/09
Gran Torino- 2/16/09
Frozen River- 2/17/09
Friday, February 20, 2009
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Frozen River
Dir. Courtney Hunt, 2008
In a time when the most prominent female figures in cinema are the leads in such films as Confessions of a Shopaholic or He's Just Not That Into You, here is a film driven by the kind of woman you might one day actually meet, and might actually like. It takes independent cinema to portray people with struggles and difficulties more complex than just managing an unrealistic credit limit or trying to figure out whether or not you're correctly interpreting a guy's mixed messages. In Frozen River, the characters are stark and yet rich with emotion and nuance, with responsibilities and scars more profound than could possibly be written into a script.
Melissa Leo, an extremely underused and underrated actress, plays Ray Eddy, a mother of two boys living in a trailer in the far north of upstate New York. When we first see her, she is sitting in the passenger seat of a car with the door open, glove compartment hanging open, thinking through some emotions before putting on a brave face for her kids. She stays cheerful for her giddy five-year-old son, who is excited about the new double-wide that they are getting. As the new trailer drives up, Ray runs to meet them and tries to bargain with the salesman to set up installation payments, or to pay at a later date. They turn her down, give her an ultimatum, she turns to face her 15-year-old son, TJ, who already knows what happened. Apparently, her husband had run off to Atlantic City with the four thousand dollars they were going to put toward the double-wide.
Rather than this film turn into the story of a woman coping with having no man, getting her man back, or meeting and falling in love with a new man, this is about a woman who can do it, and does it. She tracks down her husband's car, picked up by Lila, a young woman from the Mohawk tribe, with problems of her own. The two women are at odds at first, and what starts off as indignant coercion turns into a common convenience over which they form a willing partnership. They begin to smuggle illegal immigrants from Canada to the United States by driving over the expanse of frozen river that normally separates the two countries. It started off with Lila and Ray holding each other at gunpoint, but the steady incline in trust and understanding leads to solid teamwork.
The great thing about most performances in independent films is the refreshing subtlety. I last saw Melissa Leo in The Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada and she was good, but I admit to not having thought too much about her as an actress. It is clear to me that whatever fame and notoriety she is missing is because nobody must know who she is. Because she's pushing 40 and has visible lines on her face, she will never be a Hollywood household name, but her style is forceful and confident. She's hard as nails, but her tenderness is visible, never cloying. She interacts well with Missy Upton, who plays Lila. Upton, too, has a quiet kind of strength, and never once plays into cliches. Even the actor who played TJ, the 15-year old son, is effective in the way he incorporates teenaged sarcasm without turning into a caricature.
It's also refreshing to see a successful female filmmaker, especially one who addresses issues of racial tension and poverty. I can sense the woman's touch in a film's production, and it seems to be in the details: the genuine maternal intuition, the expression of emotions, the relative scale of the drama. As a woman, I can identify with this perception of the world and this understanding of humanity and certain experiences. Courtney Hunt chooses to show us the oft-seen story of the "unlikely friendship" (a phrase a strongly dislike) against a backdrop of muted social consciousness and the importance of family and self-sacrifice.
I had watched a lot of studio films in a row before seeing Frozen River, and it was like eating an apple after days of processed food. It feels real, natural, fresh, good for you. Almost a relief. I was allowed to think for myself, to process the nuances and secrets hidden in a glance or a flourish in the background. Even the reduced quality of film was a nice change from the overly polished glamor of big-budget flicks. Best of all, it didn't immediately vanish from my mind as I walked out of the theater. I could ponder and dwell on things that bothered me or that I needed to process. Thinking just feels so good.
In a time when the most prominent female figures in cinema are the leads in such films as Confessions of a Shopaholic or He's Just Not That Into You, here is a film driven by the kind of woman you might one day actually meet, and might actually like. It takes independent cinema to portray people with struggles and difficulties more complex than just managing an unrealistic credit limit or trying to figure out whether or not you're correctly interpreting a guy's mixed messages. In Frozen River, the characters are stark and yet rich with emotion and nuance, with responsibilities and scars more profound than could possibly be written into a script.
Melissa Leo, an extremely underused and underrated actress, plays Ray Eddy, a mother of two boys living in a trailer in the far north of upstate New York. When we first see her, she is sitting in the passenger seat of a car with the door open, glove compartment hanging open, thinking through some emotions before putting on a brave face for her kids. She stays cheerful for her giddy five-year-old son, who is excited about the new double-wide that they are getting. As the new trailer drives up, Ray runs to meet them and tries to bargain with the salesman to set up installation payments, or to pay at a later date. They turn her down, give her an ultimatum, she turns to face her 15-year-old son, TJ, who already knows what happened. Apparently, her husband had run off to Atlantic City with the four thousand dollars they were going to put toward the double-wide.
Rather than this film turn into the story of a woman coping with having no man, getting her man back, or meeting and falling in love with a new man, this is about a woman who can do it, and does it. She tracks down her husband's car, picked up by Lila, a young woman from the Mohawk tribe, with problems of her own. The two women are at odds at first, and what starts off as indignant coercion turns into a common convenience over which they form a willing partnership. They begin to smuggle illegal immigrants from Canada to the United States by driving over the expanse of frozen river that normally separates the two countries. It started off with Lila and Ray holding each other at gunpoint, but the steady incline in trust and understanding leads to solid teamwork.
The great thing about most performances in independent films is the refreshing subtlety. I last saw Melissa Leo in The Three Burials of Melquiades Estrada and she was good, but I admit to not having thought too much about her as an actress. It is clear to me that whatever fame and notoriety she is missing is because nobody must know who she is. Because she's pushing 40 and has visible lines on her face, she will never be a Hollywood household name, but her style is forceful and confident. She's hard as nails, but her tenderness is visible, never cloying. She interacts well with Missy Upton, who plays Lila. Upton, too, has a quiet kind of strength, and never once plays into cliches. Even the actor who played TJ, the 15-year old son, is effective in the way he incorporates teenaged sarcasm without turning into a caricature.
It's also refreshing to see a successful female filmmaker, especially one who addresses issues of racial tension and poverty. I can sense the woman's touch in a film's production, and it seems to be in the details: the genuine maternal intuition, the expression of emotions, the relative scale of the drama. As a woman, I can identify with this perception of the world and this understanding of humanity and certain experiences. Courtney Hunt chooses to show us the oft-seen story of the "unlikely friendship" (a phrase a strongly dislike) against a backdrop of muted social consciousness and the importance of family and self-sacrifice.
I had watched a lot of studio films in a row before seeing Frozen River, and it was like eating an apple after days of processed food. It feels real, natural, fresh, good for you. Almost a relief. I was allowed to think for myself, to process the nuances and secrets hidden in a glance or a flourish in the background. Even the reduced quality of film was a nice change from the overly polished glamor of big-budget flicks. Best of all, it didn't immediately vanish from my mind as I walked out of the theater. I could ponder and dwell on things that bothered me or that I needed to process. Thinking just feels so good.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
The Mango Awards
I know I only have between zero and three regular readers of this blog, but I would like to celebrate my favorite movies of the year, with my first ever Mango Awards Ceremony. I am going to evaluate all of the movies I have seen in the last year, or to the best of my ability. There will be two classes of categories: the awards for films released in 2008 and films that I saw on DVD that are most likely released in any of the years preceding 2008.
This should be interesting and pretty easy, since it's only me voting. I'll list everything I've seen, for my own reference, then later decide the winners. In the unlikely event that anyone would like to weigh in, the polls are open, and maybe I'll have a reader's choice award or something. I might as well call it the "Bryan Award" or whatever, since I doubt more than one person will say anything, if at all.
So stay tuned!
This should be interesting and pretty easy, since it's only me voting. I'll list everything I've seen, for my own reference, then later decide the winners. In the unlikely event that anyone would like to weigh in, the polls are open, and maybe I'll have a reader's choice award or something. I might as well call it the "Bryan Award" or whatever, since I doubt more than one person will say anything, if at all.
So stay tuned!
Monday, December 15, 2008
Ciao
Dir. Yen Tan, 2008
Loyalty is a strong bond. It is probably the one noble incentive for doing something fairly unpleasant, scary, or uncertain. Loyalty to a friend can lead you to take care of his posthumous affairs, even when it is emotionally taxing, and to face the unknown. While loyalty is one theme in Ciao, it is also what kept me watching the entire film rather than leave during the first 10 minutes. I am glad I stayed to watch it because once it found its stride, it was a moving and thought-provoking film. It is very flawed, at times uncomfortably so, but it contains the seeds of a promising career for all of the parties involved.
While I do not personally know, nor have I met the filmmaker, director, writer, anything, I know someone who knows the editor. This is two degrees of separation, but they are good friends, and I am always willing to support friends of friends, especially in the face of the harsh Hollywood machine. I know that it is difficult to translate a good idea to film, and that there are so many variables that are so difficult to control, plus budgetary limitations, time constraints, etc. I needed to open my mind and look at the intent of this film, to understand it as an entity rather than just the small details of its component parts. It was uncomfortable at times, but in the end, I gave in completely.
The film leaps immediately into the drama: a man, named Mark, somehow dies rather suddenly, leaving his best friend, Jeff, as the only one able to sort out his personal business. This involves answering emails and notifying friends and acquaintances that he is deceased. Thus, Jeff meets Andrea, an Italian man who met Mark online and had arranged to fly out to meet him for the first time. They would be lovers, hopefully, and Mark's death was a sudden shock, as Andrea was already in the country. Jeff, intrigued by this mystery man whom Mark had kept a secret, invites Andrea to come out to Dallas anyway. It's a little crazy, sure, but the love that both Andrea and Jeff felt for Mark clearly told them that someone so meaningful probably can't be all bad. It is a rather reckless leap of faith, but one that I cannot admit to finding unrealistic.
When Andrea arrives, there is awkward uncertainty as the two men gauge each other and slowly let down their guard. Jeff is still boggled that Mark never mentioned Andrea, with whom he apparently communicated frequently for some time. Andrea is still boggled that Mark died so suddenly, and seeks to learn about him from and through his best friend. After a while, their conversations grow more intimate and they allow their emotions and secrets to come out. Each man is nursing wounds from unrequited loves, and dreams of the possibilities afforded from things beyond their reach. It is only a matter of time before they feel love for each other, which we know will happen from the film's poster, and because of the nature of a story like this. It is an old story, but set in the repressed banality of the life of a homosexual man in a conservative, post-industrial city.
The events in the film are very sympathetic, and the emotion is very human. As the characters learn more about each other, we learn more about them, and about the events that bring people together. This might sound cheesy, but whatever skepticism or antagonism one may feel about someone, the immediate reaction to a loss is sympathy and compassion. Jeff hadn't known about Andrea because Mark was afraid he would judge him for his previously impulsive love life. While he may have dismissed Andrea as just another "fuckoff," his heart was softened by his friend's death, and as a tribute, or to honor one last wish, Jeff chose to understand this man from across the world and to embrace Mark's personality. Mark did not have a dying wish, but if he had, it would probably have been understanding and acceptance of his nature. That kind of friendship and loyalty is touching, and yet understated.
The amateurism of the film is evident in some of the typical film-school techniques employed: stationary camera repeating exact shots multiple times, somewhat stilted, theatrical dialogue with awkward timing and lack of facial expression, and somewhat beginning-level actors. By far the most pleasing person to watch was Andrea, played by Alessandro Calza (who also wrote the script). He was not necessarily the most natural, but his awkwardness was more forgivable as a foreigner. Jeff's stepsister, a somewhat unnecessary character who clearly was mostly a tool for allowing Jeff's inner monologue to be spoken out loud without the use of voiceover, was the weakest character. The film equipment was good quality, and the images were lovely, but perhaps the crew needed a bit more practice and experimentation to fully understand the possibilities afforded by high definition work.
That being said, the nuances of the emotional range were hidden between the unnatural-sounding words and odd actions. My tendency is to use realism as the measure of quality, but even though this played out very much like a "film," there is a real, developed maturity in the content. There is an understanding of human nature and the strength of friendship and love affairs. Curiosity and grief drives Jeff to a potentially dangerous situation, especially when he knows that Mark was previously in an abusive relationship. While actor Adam Neal Smith does not necessarily physically evoke the stages of grieving, Jeff's character is full enough that if he existed, we'd know that he was seeking answers and looking to complete his view of Mark by reading more emails than necessary and eventually asking Andrea bold questions about their international relationship.
I'm not sure I would be so forgiving and patient with this film if I were not tangentially and indirectly connected to it, but I sought to understand it and take it in. I was patient with the annoying parts, and cringed at the less effective writing at times, but I wanted to get to know it. Often there is more than what meets the eye, and a little patience can reveal a lot more than what appears at face value. I am quick to dismiss something as "terrible," but perhaps this was a good exercise in opening my mind and reserving judgment until I get more information. It was ultimately worth my time, and I was impressed by what I could take away from it. If the measure of a good film is what kind of mark it made or how it influenced me, then I can say that this is a good film.
Loyalty is a strong bond. It is probably the one noble incentive for doing something fairly unpleasant, scary, or uncertain. Loyalty to a friend can lead you to take care of his posthumous affairs, even when it is emotionally taxing, and to face the unknown. While loyalty is one theme in Ciao, it is also what kept me watching the entire film rather than leave during the first 10 minutes. I am glad I stayed to watch it because once it found its stride, it was a moving and thought-provoking film. It is very flawed, at times uncomfortably so, but it contains the seeds of a promising career for all of the parties involved.
While I do not personally know, nor have I met the filmmaker, director, writer, anything, I know someone who knows the editor. This is two degrees of separation, but they are good friends, and I am always willing to support friends of friends, especially in the face of the harsh Hollywood machine. I know that it is difficult to translate a good idea to film, and that there are so many variables that are so difficult to control, plus budgetary limitations, time constraints, etc. I needed to open my mind and look at the intent of this film, to understand it as an entity rather than just the small details of its component parts. It was uncomfortable at times, but in the end, I gave in completely.
The film leaps immediately into the drama: a man, named Mark, somehow dies rather suddenly, leaving his best friend, Jeff, as the only one able to sort out his personal business. This involves answering emails and notifying friends and acquaintances that he is deceased. Thus, Jeff meets Andrea, an Italian man who met Mark online and had arranged to fly out to meet him for the first time. They would be lovers, hopefully, and Mark's death was a sudden shock, as Andrea was already in the country. Jeff, intrigued by this mystery man whom Mark had kept a secret, invites Andrea to come out to Dallas anyway. It's a little crazy, sure, but the love that both Andrea and Jeff felt for Mark clearly told them that someone so meaningful probably can't be all bad. It is a rather reckless leap of faith, but one that I cannot admit to finding unrealistic.
When Andrea arrives, there is awkward uncertainty as the two men gauge each other and slowly let down their guard. Jeff is still boggled that Mark never mentioned Andrea, with whom he apparently communicated frequently for some time. Andrea is still boggled that Mark died so suddenly, and seeks to learn about him from and through his best friend. After a while, their conversations grow more intimate and they allow their emotions and secrets to come out. Each man is nursing wounds from unrequited loves, and dreams of the possibilities afforded from things beyond their reach. It is only a matter of time before they feel love for each other, which we know will happen from the film's poster, and because of the nature of a story like this. It is an old story, but set in the repressed banality of the life of a homosexual man in a conservative, post-industrial city.
The events in the film are very sympathetic, and the emotion is very human. As the characters learn more about each other, we learn more about them, and about the events that bring people together. This might sound cheesy, but whatever skepticism or antagonism one may feel about someone, the immediate reaction to a loss is sympathy and compassion. Jeff hadn't known about Andrea because Mark was afraid he would judge him for his previously impulsive love life. While he may have dismissed Andrea as just another "fuckoff," his heart was softened by his friend's death, and as a tribute, or to honor one last wish, Jeff chose to understand this man from across the world and to embrace Mark's personality. Mark did not have a dying wish, but if he had, it would probably have been understanding and acceptance of his nature. That kind of friendship and loyalty is touching, and yet understated.
The amateurism of the film is evident in some of the typical film-school techniques employed: stationary camera repeating exact shots multiple times, somewhat stilted, theatrical dialogue with awkward timing and lack of facial expression, and somewhat beginning-level actors. By far the most pleasing person to watch was Andrea, played by Alessandro Calza (who also wrote the script). He was not necessarily the most natural, but his awkwardness was more forgivable as a foreigner. Jeff's stepsister, a somewhat unnecessary character who clearly was mostly a tool for allowing Jeff's inner monologue to be spoken out loud without the use of voiceover, was the weakest character. The film equipment was good quality, and the images were lovely, but perhaps the crew needed a bit more practice and experimentation to fully understand the possibilities afforded by high definition work.
That being said, the nuances of the emotional range were hidden between the unnatural-sounding words and odd actions. My tendency is to use realism as the measure of quality, but even though this played out very much like a "film," there is a real, developed maturity in the content. There is an understanding of human nature and the strength of friendship and love affairs. Curiosity and grief drives Jeff to a potentially dangerous situation, especially when he knows that Mark was previously in an abusive relationship. While actor Adam Neal Smith does not necessarily physically evoke the stages of grieving, Jeff's character is full enough that if he existed, we'd know that he was seeking answers and looking to complete his view of Mark by reading more emails than necessary and eventually asking Andrea bold questions about their international relationship.
I'm not sure I would be so forgiving and patient with this film if I were not tangentially and indirectly connected to it, but I sought to understand it and take it in. I was patient with the annoying parts, and cringed at the less effective writing at times, but I wanted to get to know it. Often there is more than what meets the eye, and a little patience can reveal a lot more than what appears at face value. I am quick to dismiss something as "terrible," but perhaps this was a good exercise in opening my mind and reserving judgment until I get more information. It was ultimately worth my time, and I was impressed by what I could take away from it. If the measure of a good film is what kind of mark it made or how it influenced me, then I can say that this is a good film.
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Ashes of Time Redux
Dir. Wong Kar Wai, 2008 [original release, 1994]
Wong Kar Wai's films are so multisensory and tapestry-like that I just want to devour them with a spoon. He and Christopher Doyle have made some of my favorite movies and when the films are over, I am as satisfied as if I had done everything I loved doing for the perfect amount of time. So it goes without saying that I was on board with this film even before seeing it. I was already convinced that I would love it, and I did no research on it beforehand so that every moment would be original and untainted by expectation or anticipation. Coming to the film was like coming to a dinner where I knew I would be served my favorite food.
I almost feel as though it's unfair for me to review this alongside any other film because it impacts me in such a personal way. Here is one of my favorite directors working with one of my favorite cinematographers and some of my favorite actors. If there are any flaws, I'd be willing to overlook them and chalk them up to character or charming imperfections, whereas any other film would get dinged for somehow dropping the ball. Luckily, there are no glaring flaws, so I didn't have to have an internal battle over how I should feel about it.
The plot is unclear, mysterious, labyrinthine. We see a man, Huang Yaoshi, who lives alone in the middle of nowhere, who is awaiting a friend of his. The friend, Ouyang Feng, comes bearing wine that makes you forget, and seems to be carrying the burden of his painful memories himself. We don't know who they are, only that Huang appears to be some kind of hitman, and his Ouyang to be pathologically attracted to and by women who are spoken for, destroying engagements as he passes. As Huang meets with other people who request his services, he finds a common thread among them: they yearn for something intangible and desperately cling to hope for finding peace.
A pair of siblings come to Huang with conflicting requests for revenge, and Huang is unable to accommodate them because they turn out to be the same heartbroken woman, scorned by Ouyang. Tony Leung Chiu Wai, who plays a blind swordsman, has a vague request for Huang which he is unable to persuade him to fulfill, and which Huang later discovers was not what it appeared to be, anyway. A woman comes to Huang, asking him to help her avenge her slain brother, but can only pay him in eggs. Another man, whom Huang subcontracts to do his dirty work, contends with his duty and his indomitable wife. All of these figures rotate around Huang, who harbors his own demons, and nurses his own broken heart and wounded pride. Wong Kar Wai's frequently used themes of loss, revelation and reflection seem so fresh and unrepetitive
For those familiar with Christopher Doyle's cinematographic style, I don't have to mention the visual splendor of the color scheme, startling landscapes and dramatic distortions. But for anyone doubting that a film like this might be worth seeing, think of it as a moving tableau. The light is positively heavy with emotion and sensuality, and everyone onscreen is so beautiful, even if not classically so. Every other review I have read, glimpsed, or heard reference to has said, even if they did not love the movie, that it is best seen on a big screen. Doyle works with images like a master violinist with his own craft. The mastery with which he and Wong Kar Wai communicate their visions is evident in how seamlessly the content and the appearance blend into a complete work of art.
I could wax poetic about this film all day, but it has already taken me far too long to write this review. Normally I'd end with a full-sized paragraph, but I just want to post this thing.
Wong Kar Wai's films are so multisensory and tapestry-like that I just want to devour them with a spoon. He and Christopher Doyle have made some of my favorite movies and when the films are over, I am as satisfied as if I had done everything I loved doing for the perfect amount of time. So it goes without saying that I was on board with this film even before seeing it. I was already convinced that I would love it, and I did no research on it beforehand so that every moment would be original and untainted by expectation or anticipation. Coming to the film was like coming to a dinner where I knew I would be served my favorite food.
I almost feel as though it's unfair for me to review this alongside any other film because it impacts me in such a personal way. Here is one of my favorite directors working with one of my favorite cinematographers and some of my favorite actors. If there are any flaws, I'd be willing to overlook them and chalk them up to character or charming imperfections, whereas any other film would get dinged for somehow dropping the ball. Luckily, there are no glaring flaws, so I didn't have to have an internal battle over how I should feel about it.
The plot is unclear, mysterious, labyrinthine. We see a man, Huang Yaoshi, who lives alone in the middle of nowhere, who is awaiting a friend of his. The friend, Ouyang Feng, comes bearing wine that makes you forget, and seems to be carrying the burden of his painful memories himself. We don't know who they are, only that Huang appears to be some kind of hitman, and his Ouyang to be pathologically attracted to and by women who are spoken for, destroying engagements as he passes. As Huang meets with other people who request his services, he finds a common thread among them: they yearn for something intangible and desperately cling to hope for finding peace.
A pair of siblings come to Huang with conflicting requests for revenge, and Huang is unable to accommodate them because they turn out to be the same heartbroken woman, scorned by Ouyang. Tony Leung Chiu Wai, who plays a blind swordsman, has a vague request for Huang which he is unable to persuade him to fulfill, and which Huang later discovers was not what it appeared to be, anyway. A woman comes to Huang, asking him to help her avenge her slain brother, but can only pay him in eggs. Another man, whom Huang subcontracts to do his dirty work, contends with his duty and his indomitable wife. All of these figures rotate around Huang, who harbors his own demons, and nurses his own broken heart and wounded pride. Wong Kar Wai's frequently used themes of loss, revelation and reflection seem so fresh and unrepetitive
For those familiar with Christopher Doyle's cinematographic style, I don't have to mention the visual splendor of the color scheme, startling landscapes and dramatic distortions. But for anyone doubting that a film like this might be worth seeing, think of it as a moving tableau. The light is positively heavy with emotion and sensuality, and everyone onscreen is so beautiful, even if not classically so. Every other review I have read, glimpsed, or heard reference to has said, even if they did not love the movie, that it is best seen on a big screen. Doyle works with images like a master violinist with his own craft. The mastery with which he and Wong Kar Wai communicate their visions is evident in how seamlessly the content and the appearance blend into a complete work of art.
I could wax poetic about this film all day, but it has already taken me far too long to write this review. Normally I'd end with a full-sized paragraph, but I just want to post this thing.
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Rachel Getting Married
Dir. Jonathan Demme, 2008
The most widely advertised component of Rachel Getting Married is the acting performance of Anne Hathaway. At the movie theater, the projectionist came to the front of the auditorium and welcomed us all, told us that Hathaway's performance has been critically lauded, and that she's a shoo-in for an Oscar nomination. All of this is true, but what the media has failed to remark upon is also the strength of the rest of the cast, the excellent script, and the tactful directing. This is exactly the kind of film I love to watch, where every scene holds the possibility for something, but the movie remains unexpected.
The film opens with Anne Hathaway (not actually playing Rachel, but rather, her sister, Kym), sitting with a nurse and another patient on a bench outside. The other patient begins to whine and Kym sharply scolds him. The patient responds with malicious sarcasm, "Are you going to run someone over again, with your car?" Kym looks away quickly, scanning the horizon, and smoking her cigarette. So much is revealed in that short exchange, yet it opens up a whole universe of questions. Did she actually do this? Is she at a hospital for rehab or for an injury? Is she looking for someone? Who is Rachel, then?
As the film progresses, our questions are answered, but oh so slowly. Rachel is Kym's sister. Kym was in rehab. Kym was a model for at least some time. Kym goes to NA meetings and really, really believes in them. The plot of the film seems to move around her for the first part; she drifts into scenes and creates drama with her neediness and her wounded self image which battles her still-inflated ego. The other characters are correct in saying that Kym makes everything about herself, from taking it personally when she is neither selected to be the maid of honor due to her chronic unreliability and her "past," nor informed that Rachel and her husband-to-be, Sidney, are moving to Hawaii after their nuptials. Kym is a whirlwind of self-importance and brittleness, sharp tongue and shame.
Portrayal of family can be very hit and miss in films, though it doesn't seem like the complexity of this kind of interpersonal relationship should be so difficult. Yet I think portraying a dysfunctional family that still has a lot of affection for each other is the most challenging because it requires a sensitivity to the ways in which people who love each other can be cruel, but then make amends almost as though nothing happened. Rachel Getting Married does this without ranging into the sentimental or the improbable. Kym, Rachel, their parents and their friends are all intelligent and emotional people, but the conversation never strays into the trite or the pretentious, and the compassion that they express seems genuine. This is both testament to the writing and the acting, but the entire ensemble just brims with talent and aptitude.
As much as I enjoyed this film, it wasn't perfect. Any film laced with tragedy borders on the melodramatic at times, and this is no exception. Although, sometimes a real-life situation can be melodramatic at times, and truly, there is no other way to show a confrontation between mother and daughter than tearfully maudlin. Additionally, there is the occasional scene in the film that is meant to show the closeness and the quirkiness of the family, but they can be a little strange and a little bit long. For example, there is a scene in which Rachel's father and Sidney race to see who can load the dishwasher in two minutes with the most dishes. This scene seems hardly edited for time, and we experience every moment of that two minutes, down to the scrubbing of the platters and the re-stacking of the plates, and including the time in between the dad's and Sidney's rounds. It's kind of cute, kind of funny, and then takes a turn for the sad, but then you realize that there has been some portion of the film has been devoted to watching people load a dishwasher.
Altogether, I loved Rachel Getting Married. Anne Hathaway may have the greatest star power and therefore the loudest accolades, but Rosemarie DeWitt has gained recognition for her stint in Mad Men, and so will her marketability increase with this. It's not a film with an obvious protagonist or villain, but in it, we can see the multi-faceted nature of people who really do mean well, but say and do terrible things. It is a subject that I enjoy seeing in movies because it forces me to look beyond the forced dichotomy of good and evil that so many stories present, and most things in life are not so simple.
The most widely advertised component of Rachel Getting Married is the acting performance of Anne Hathaway. At the movie theater, the projectionist came to the front of the auditorium and welcomed us all, told us that Hathaway's performance has been critically lauded, and that she's a shoo-in for an Oscar nomination. All of this is true, but what the media has failed to remark upon is also the strength of the rest of the cast, the excellent script, and the tactful directing. This is exactly the kind of film I love to watch, where every scene holds the possibility for something, but the movie remains unexpected.
The film opens with Anne Hathaway (not actually playing Rachel, but rather, her sister, Kym), sitting with a nurse and another patient on a bench outside. The other patient begins to whine and Kym sharply scolds him. The patient responds with malicious sarcasm, "Are you going to run someone over again, with your car?" Kym looks away quickly, scanning the horizon, and smoking her cigarette. So much is revealed in that short exchange, yet it opens up a whole universe of questions. Did she actually do this? Is she at a hospital for rehab or for an injury? Is she looking for someone? Who is Rachel, then?
As the film progresses, our questions are answered, but oh so slowly. Rachel is Kym's sister. Kym was in rehab. Kym was a model for at least some time. Kym goes to NA meetings and really, really believes in them. The plot of the film seems to move around her for the first part; she drifts into scenes and creates drama with her neediness and her wounded self image which battles her still-inflated ego. The other characters are correct in saying that Kym makes everything about herself, from taking it personally when she is neither selected to be the maid of honor due to her chronic unreliability and her "past," nor informed that Rachel and her husband-to-be, Sidney, are moving to Hawaii after their nuptials. Kym is a whirlwind of self-importance and brittleness, sharp tongue and shame.
Portrayal of family can be very hit and miss in films, though it doesn't seem like the complexity of this kind of interpersonal relationship should be so difficult. Yet I think portraying a dysfunctional family that still has a lot of affection for each other is the most challenging because it requires a sensitivity to the ways in which people who love each other can be cruel, but then make amends almost as though nothing happened. Rachel Getting Married does this without ranging into the sentimental or the improbable. Kym, Rachel, their parents and their friends are all intelligent and emotional people, but the conversation never strays into the trite or the pretentious, and the compassion that they express seems genuine. This is both testament to the writing and the acting, but the entire ensemble just brims with talent and aptitude.
As much as I enjoyed this film, it wasn't perfect. Any film laced with tragedy borders on the melodramatic at times, and this is no exception. Although, sometimes a real-life situation can be melodramatic at times, and truly, there is no other way to show a confrontation between mother and daughter than tearfully maudlin. Additionally, there is the occasional scene in the film that is meant to show the closeness and the quirkiness of the family, but they can be a little strange and a little bit long. For example, there is a scene in which Rachel's father and Sidney race to see who can load the dishwasher in two minutes with the most dishes. This scene seems hardly edited for time, and we experience every moment of that two minutes, down to the scrubbing of the platters and the re-stacking of the plates, and including the time in between the dad's and Sidney's rounds. It's kind of cute, kind of funny, and then takes a turn for the sad, but then you realize that there has been some portion of the film has been devoted to watching people load a dishwasher.
Altogether, I loved Rachel Getting Married. Anne Hathaway may have the greatest star power and therefore the loudest accolades, but Rosemarie DeWitt has gained recognition for her stint in Mad Men, and so will her marketability increase with this. It's not a film with an obvious protagonist or villain, but in it, we can see the multi-faceted nature of people who really do mean well, but say and do terrible things. It is a subject that I enjoy seeing in movies because it forces me to look beyond the forced dichotomy of good and evil that so many stories present, and most things in life are not so simple.
Monday, October 20, 2008
Margot at the Wedding
Dir. Noah Baumbach, 2007
I don't really know what Noah Baumbach's deal is. I can see that he's a really weird guy, and that's his shtick, but it doesn't work every time. Now that I have seen three of his films, rather than thinking the first one that I didn't love, Kicking and Screaming, was just the odd one of a presumably successful repertoire, I can see that the one that I do love, The Squid and the Whale, is actually the odd one out of an apparently lackluster repertoire. Margot at the Wedding retained some of the sparkle of relatable humanity that was so wonderful about The Squid and the Whale, but the oddness of the characters and the disconnectedness of the scenes from one to the other were ultimately disappointing.
Nicole Kidman plays Margot, who, along with her son, Claude, goes to the sudden wedding of her sister, Pauline, played by Jennifer Jason Leigh. The two sisters are sharp and witty, but with different outlooks on life: Margot is a pessimist and Pauline is an optimist. Margot's "still got it," and Pauline thinks she needs to just take what she can get. Each sister's respective children have more in common with each other than the actual siblings do. While at first we are unclear why Margot would go such a distance for a wedding she was predisposed to disapprove of, we soon realize that she was promoting a book, arranging a tryst with a neighbor, and running away from her husband, who is never portrayed as anything less than a decent guy.
Pauline, on the other hand, reveals that she is pregnant, which is why she has chosen to leap into matrimony with Malcolm (Jack Black). Malcolm is chronically unemployed, disgruntled, immature and has other unspeakable issues. He and Margot cannot hide their contempt for each other, though Claude and Malcolm get along quite well. Claude is sadly torn between his loyalty for his mother and his sympathy for his aunt, whom he cannot see as the fool that Margot describes her to be. Preparations for the wedding include some friendly moments which someone's hissy fit inevitably ruins, or screaming matches that we wonder will ever get resolved.
I'm not sure which, if any, of the characters are meant to be sympathetic. Pauline starts out as the obvious choice for her sweet desperation, but then she proves to be just another Dumb Girl. Malcolm seemed like a poor old slob until you learn that his behavior is morally reprehensible. Margot somewhat earns our sympathy for being so emotionally cut off and unable to deal with her own self-loathing that she projects onto everyone else, but her words are so unpleasant that while I could intellectually feel for her, I know I would absolutely despise her if she actually existed. This leaves Claude, the unfortunate recipient of a broken home and a confused pre-adolescence. Perhaps someone with a similarly dysfunctional upbringing could relate more to him on a personal level, but I had difficulty overcoming his weirdness.
In The Squid and the Whale, the similarly pre-adolescent Frank has a similar oddness that he expresses in public sexuality and binge drinking. His parents are like Margot in that they are very intellectual and literary, and emotionally incapable of an appropriate relationship with anyone. These adults are developmentally stunted and have not taught their children any useful tools for existing in society. And yet Frank is more believable than Claude, more understandable and more sympathetic. Perhaps it is because he has a bigger role that he is allowed more screen time to develop more layers of personality, or perhaps it is because the words that Frank and his parents exchange seem more like realistic words than those between Claude and Margot. It seems as though Noah Baumbach took his good ideas in Squid and looked through his emotional thesaurus to find an equivalent, but as we all know, synonyms don't have the exact same meanings or implications as the original word.
I really wanted to like this film, nay, love it. The Squid and the Whale was full of such bittersweet humanity that watching it was like inspecting a fine gem and being blown away by the intricacies. Margot at the Wedding was too similar to not be compared, but too different exist alongside as an equal piece of art. While I have heard that Baumbach drew strongly from his own life for Squid, I can believe that he was a really weird kid who felt alienated from his peers because of his uniquely screwed up home life. While Frank made me want to give him a hug and buy him a sandwich, I just wanted to keep an eye on Claude and to make sure he didn't break anything or steal my underwear. It is a subtle difference between the two films, and a subtle departure that makes one excellent and the other middling. Repetition of theme, and overuse of device? That is a large part of it, but the rest may just be physical exhaustion from such exposure to irreparably weird people.
I don't really know what Noah Baumbach's deal is. I can see that he's a really weird guy, and that's his shtick, but it doesn't work every time. Now that I have seen three of his films, rather than thinking the first one that I didn't love, Kicking and Screaming, was just the odd one of a presumably successful repertoire, I can see that the one that I do love, The Squid and the Whale, is actually the odd one out of an apparently lackluster repertoire. Margot at the Wedding retained some of the sparkle of relatable humanity that was so wonderful about The Squid and the Whale, but the oddness of the characters and the disconnectedness of the scenes from one to the other were ultimately disappointing.
Nicole Kidman plays Margot, who, along with her son, Claude, goes to the sudden wedding of her sister, Pauline, played by Jennifer Jason Leigh. The two sisters are sharp and witty, but with different outlooks on life: Margot is a pessimist and Pauline is an optimist. Margot's "still got it," and Pauline thinks she needs to just take what she can get. Each sister's respective children have more in common with each other than the actual siblings do. While at first we are unclear why Margot would go such a distance for a wedding she was predisposed to disapprove of, we soon realize that she was promoting a book, arranging a tryst with a neighbor, and running away from her husband, who is never portrayed as anything less than a decent guy.
Pauline, on the other hand, reveals that she is pregnant, which is why she has chosen to leap into matrimony with Malcolm (Jack Black). Malcolm is chronically unemployed, disgruntled, immature and has other unspeakable issues. He and Margot cannot hide their contempt for each other, though Claude and Malcolm get along quite well. Claude is sadly torn between his loyalty for his mother and his sympathy for his aunt, whom he cannot see as the fool that Margot describes her to be. Preparations for the wedding include some friendly moments which someone's hissy fit inevitably ruins, or screaming matches that we wonder will ever get resolved.
I'm not sure which, if any, of the characters are meant to be sympathetic. Pauline starts out as the obvious choice for her sweet desperation, but then she proves to be just another Dumb Girl. Malcolm seemed like a poor old slob until you learn that his behavior is morally reprehensible. Margot somewhat earns our sympathy for being so emotionally cut off and unable to deal with her own self-loathing that she projects onto everyone else, but her words are so unpleasant that while I could intellectually feel for her, I know I would absolutely despise her if she actually existed. This leaves Claude, the unfortunate recipient of a broken home and a confused pre-adolescence. Perhaps someone with a similarly dysfunctional upbringing could relate more to him on a personal level, but I had difficulty overcoming his weirdness.
In The Squid and the Whale, the similarly pre-adolescent Frank has a similar oddness that he expresses in public sexuality and binge drinking. His parents are like Margot in that they are very intellectual and literary, and emotionally incapable of an appropriate relationship with anyone. These adults are developmentally stunted and have not taught their children any useful tools for existing in society. And yet Frank is more believable than Claude, more understandable and more sympathetic. Perhaps it is because he has a bigger role that he is allowed more screen time to develop more layers of personality, or perhaps it is because the words that Frank and his parents exchange seem more like realistic words than those between Claude and Margot. It seems as though Noah Baumbach took his good ideas in Squid and looked through his emotional thesaurus to find an equivalent, but as we all know, synonyms don't have the exact same meanings or implications as the original word.
I really wanted to like this film, nay, love it. The Squid and the Whale was full of such bittersweet humanity that watching it was like inspecting a fine gem and being blown away by the intricacies. Margot at the Wedding was too similar to not be compared, but too different exist alongside as an equal piece of art. While I have heard that Baumbach drew strongly from his own life for Squid, I can believe that he was a really weird kid who felt alienated from his peers because of his uniquely screwed up home life. While Frank made me want to give him a hug and buy him a sandwich, I just wanted to keep an eye on Claude and to make sure he didn't break anything or steal my underwear. It is a subtle difference between the two films, and a subtle departure that makes one excellent and the other middling. Repetition of theme, and overuse of device? That is a large part of it, but the rest may just be physical exhaustion from such exposure to irreparably weird people.
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