Tonight I saw all five of the nominated films in the Live Action Short category. I'll present my reviews in the order they were shown.
KAVI (India)
In this dismal drama, a young boy desperately wants to go to school, but instead must work to repay his father's debt by constructing bricks. It's inspiring to see how resourceful and clever this slave child is, but the scenes of abuse his family endures make the film almost too unbearable to appreciate.
THE NEW TENANTS (Denmark)
A gay couple moves into an apartment that was recently vacated due to the murder of its former tenant. After a somewhat witty rant from one of the occupants, there is a knock at the door, which results in the first of four visitors that take this potentially smart concept past any point of pleasurable comedy. It feels more like a college film project than an Academy Award nominated piece. Plus, the ending is just silly.
MIRACLE FISH (Australia)
A child of modest means goes to school on his birthday only to be teased by his classmates for not getting the latest toys as gifts. He heads to the sick room where he dreams of having the school all to himself, free of the pain. When he wakes up, the hallways are dark and the classrooms are empty, so he begins to enjoy the new-found freedom. It's very satisfying to watch this victim of a bully dive into treats he normally wouldn't get and take pleasure in the solace that comes with eliminating negativity in life. But he soon finds out he's not alone and the film makes a sharp turn. Luckily, the impact of the message remains crystal clear.
THE DOOR (Ireland)
Only those familiar with the 1986 nuclear accident at Chernobyl will fully absorb the tragedy played out here, as a family struggles to navigate their loss and suffering. The first scene, though relevant in its purpose, is vastly out of pace with the rest of the film, which makes it hard to accept the muted rhythm that permeates each additional scene. Nonetheless, a powerful snapshot of a horrible historical event.
INSTEAD OF ABRACADABRA (Sweden)
The only blatant comedy of the bunch, this silly scenario centers around a 25-year-old man who wants nothing more than to be a professional magician. He tests tricks out on his parents (sometimes unsuccessfully), shocks children at birthday parties and develops a crush on a pretty blond, whom he tries to impress with his hobby. This is a fun, if not pointless, ride to take, and the ending is fabulous.
It's probably not hard to guess that my pick for this year's Live Action Short Film statue goes to Miracle Fish, but I wouldn't be terribly disappointed if The Door prevailed instead.
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Friday, February 19, 2010
Shutter Island
This morning I saw Shutter Island, starring Leonardo DiCaprio and Ben Kingsley.
The year is 1954 and Federal Marshall Teddy Daniels (DiCaprio) is sent to investigate a disappearance at a mental hospital off the shores of Boston called Shutter Island. He is accompanied by his nonchalant partner Chuck (Mark Ruffalo) who strangely calls him "Boss" though they've only just met.
The backdrop of a messy storm sets the mood for their arrival, as the seasick Daniels accepts aspirin from hospital staff to combat his queasy feelings. Soon he's feeling up to interrogation and requests interviews with all personnel on duty the night of the missing patient's disappearance. He is met with resistance (and even sarcasm) from many as he asks basic questions to solve the mystery.
One of the most passive aggressive road blocks on his journey is Dr. Cawley (Kingsley), a powerful psychiatrist who seems to be hiding something.
When Teddy and Chuck can't get to the answers they're looking for, they decide to leave the island the following morning, but the violent weather stops them, so they continue exploring the institution on their own, against the wishes of the staff.
Throughout their search, Teddy is haunted by visions of his deceased wife Dolores (Michelle Williams) and reveals he has ties to the institution due to her murder. He also seems to be suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder, having flashbacks from assisting in the liberation of Nazi-occupied Germany.
The entire film is Teddy's journey to find the truth in whatever context the film is referring to during that specific beat. It's at times all over the place and alternately solid and linear.
Scorsese creates a fantastic creepy mood from the opening credits and sustains that quiet unrest right up until the end. The images (especially of Nazi Germany) are sometimes horrific; other times just bloody (though I'll have to admit a scene full of squeaking rats takes the cake for most-likely-to-cause-nightmares).
The characters are all crafted well--each has something unique to hide, yet it's hard to know who to trust.
Leonardo DiCaprio, who is in nearly every frame of the film, plays every emotion with sincerity; from the angry and arrogant Federal Marshall to the fragile, grieving widow. The expression in his face carries us from scene to scene, guiding our reactions and filling us with whatever feelings he's meant to experience.
The ending provides a hot conversation topic for anyone who likes to challenge such resolution, and provides a satisfactory conclusion for those who prefer closure.
Really, Shutter Island is the very definition of a successful psychological thriller. It will keep you guessing hours after you leave the theater...that is, if you want to keep guessing.
The year is 1954 and Federal Marshall Teddy Daniels (DiCaprio) is sent to investigate a disappearance at a mental hospital off the shores of Boston called Shutter Island. He is accompanied by his nonchalant partner Chuck (Mark Ruffalo) who strangely calls him "Boss" though they've only just met.
The backdrop of a messy storm sets the mood for their arrival, as the seasick Daniels accepts aspirin from hospital staff to combat his queasy feelings. Soon he's feeling up to interrogation and requests interviews with all personnel on duty the night of the missing patient's disappearance. He is met with resistance (and even sarcasm) from many as he asks basic questions to solve the mystery.
One of the most passive aggressive road blocks on his journey is Dr. Cawley (Kingsley), a powerful psychiatrist who seems to be hiding something.
When Teddy and Chuck can't get to the answers they're looking for, they decide to leave the island the following morning, but the violent weather stops them, so they continue exploring the institution on their own, against the wishes of the staff.
Throughout their search, Teddy is haunted by visions of his deceased wife Dolores (Michelle Williams) and reveals he has ties to the institution due to her murder. He also seems to be suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder, having flashbacks from assisting in the liberation of Nazi-occupied Germany.
The entire film is Teddy's journey to find the truth in whatever context the film is referring to during that specific beat. It's at times all over the place and alternately solid and linear.
Scorsese creates a fantastic creepy mood from the opening credits and sustains that quiet unrest right up until the end. The images (especially of Nazi Germany) are sometimes horrific; other times just bloody (though I'll have to admit a scene full of squeaking rats takes the cake for most-likely-to-cause-nightmares).
The characters are all crafted well--each has something unique to hide, yet it's hard to know who to trust.
Leonardo DiCaprio, who is in nearly every frame of the film, plays every emotion with sincerity; from the angry and arrogant Federal Marshall to the fragile, grieving widow. The expression in his face carries us from scene to scene, guiding our reactions and filling us with whatever feelings he's meant to experience.
The ending provides a hot conversation topic for anyone who likes to challenge such resolution, and provides a satisfactory conclusion for those who prefer closure.
Really, Shutter Island is the very definition of a successful psychological thriller. It will keep you guessing hours after you leave the theater...that is, if you want to keep guessing.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Hell Is Other People
Tonight I screened Hell Is Other People, starring Richard Johnson.
Morty (Johnson) is sad. Not because of something specific that's necessarily happened to him, but more likely because of everything that hasn't. He hasn't found anyone to share his life with (though he does have a very 'present' ex who he obviously cares for), he doesn't have a career, and there isn't any proof of aspiration to do more than he's currently doing. Being broke induces a forced indifference.
Director Jarrod Whaley captures the absurdity of lonely living quite well. After all, what is time when you have nowhere to be?
Morty needs money so he claims a friend owes him for a recent 'favor', or he simply performs odd jobs to fill in the blanks (the oddest: acting as a makeshift shrink for a guy even more troubled than him). Nothing about his actions suggest things will get better, but for some reason, we don't hate him for that.
Chattanooga, Tenn. provides a perfect backdrop for the slow pace and discussions of the characters in this film. The mood feels Southern; polite with a natural tendency to get heated. All of the friends and acquaintances talk to and about one another just as we all do in real life. The women also appear to talk a lot more. Fair enough.
Morty is easily the link between all of these folks, though he's probably the least interesting, and that's what makes this comedy so tragic.
Social graces are a hot commodity in our world of new media. Though we never see Morty updating his Facebook page, we get the sense he'd be more comfortable doing that than striking up a conversation with a stranger. It's not that he wouldn't want the connection—he just doesn't know how to go about creating it (a scene where he asks his doctor's receptionist out is especially painful to watch).
Hell is a solid indie with especially good character development, but perhaps not enough "showing" vs. "telling." I do wish there had been more situations instead of scenes that linger just a tad too long, but I was engaged throughout, nonetheless.
Each step of the way, we're led to silently root for Morty's success, yet he continues to disappoint us. This happens with people in our real world, why shouldn't it happen in cinema?
Hell is Other People premieres at Cinequest 20 on February 27. Visit Cinequest.org for details.
~~~
Morty (Johnson) is sad. Not because of something specific that's necessarily happened to him, but more likely because of everything that hasn't. He hasn't found anyone to share his life with (though he does have a very 'present' ex who he obviously cares for), he doesn't have a career, and there isn't any proof of aspiration to do more than he's currently doing. Being broke induces a forced indifference.
Director Jarrod Whaley captures the absurdity of lonely living quite well. After all, what is time when you have nowhere to be?
Morty needs money so he claims a friend owes him for a recent 'favor', or he simply performs odd jobs to fill in the blanks (the oddest: acting as a makeshift shrink for a guy even more troubled than him). Nothing about his actions suggest things will get better, but for some reason, we don't hate him for that.
Chattanooga, Tenn. provides a perfect backdrop for the slow pace and discussions of the characters in this film. The mood feels Southern; polite with a natural tendency to get heated. All of the friends and acquaintances talk to and about one another just as we all do in real life. The women also appear to talk a lot more. Fair enough.
Morty is easily the link between all of these folks, though he's probably the least interesting, and that's what makes this comedy so tragic.
Social graces are a hot commodity in our world of new media. Though we never see Morty updating his Facebook page, we get the sense he'd be more comfortable doing that than striking up a conversation with a stranger. It's not that he wouldn't want the connection—he just doesn't know how to go about creating it (a scene where he asks his doctor's receptionist out is especially painful to watch).
Hell is a solid indie with especially good character development, but perhaps not enough "showing" vs. "telling." I do wish there had been more situations instead of scenes that linger just a tad too long, but I was engaged throughout, nonetheless.
Each step of the way, we're led to silently root for Morty's success, yet he continues to disappoint us. This happens with people in our real world, why shouldn't it happen in cinema?
Hell is Other People premieres at Cinequest 20 on February 27. Visit Cinequest.org for details.
~~~
Saturday, January 30, 2010
The White Ribbon
Today I saw The White Ribbon, starring Susanne Lothar and Christian Friedel.
Black and white film can't make a story work, but it most certainly can enhance a story that's already good. This is the case in this moody, quiet drama from director Michael Haneke.
Once you get the characters straight (some of them look similar, and well, they all dress alike) you're led into an unconventional whodunnit featuring a village full of suspects.
The pre-World War I German setting itself builds suspense, as the audience knows what becomes of the nation in the decades to follow. Each scene passes along to something more that you realize will build and turn into something bad.
And that's how it unfolds: first, the town doctor has a freak accident (one that couldn't have taken place without the help of a human), then another person turns up dead. This is followed by a tortured child and the list goes on.
In between these ghastly happenings, we get to know many of the townspeople including the teacher who is narrating our journey (Friedel) and the scorned mistress of the doctor (Lothar). The revealing peek behind the curtain doesn't endear us to many of the citizens; it in fact does the opposite.
We witness abuse, we question motives, we sympathize with the children—well, at least some of the children—and we wonder if karma is just simply playing its punishment cards for all of the heinous behavior that goes on behind these closed doors.
True to form, Haneke (who attracted attention in 2005 with his thriller Caché) isn't going to spell it out for us.
There are many 'suspects' and layers of people to keep track of, but no clear-cut answer unless you're willing to believe the theory that's presented near the end. It certainly could be true, but if it was that easy, would our journey have been so rough?
Black and white film can't make a story work, but it most certainly can enhance a story that's already good. This is the case in this moody, quiet drama from director Michael Haneke.
Once you get the characters straight (some of them look similar, and well, they all dress alike) you're led into an unconventional whodunnit featuring a village full of suspects.
The pre-World War I German setting itself builds suspense, as the audience knows what becomes of the nation in the decades to follow. Each scene passes along to something more that you realize will build and turn into something bad.
And that's how it unfolds: first, the town doctor has a freak accident (one that couldn't have taken place without the help of a human), then another person turns up dead. This is followed by a tortured child and the list goes on.
In between these ghastly happenings, we get to know many of the townspeople including the teacher who is narrating our journey (Friedel) and the scorned mistress of the doctor (Lothar). The revealing peek behind the curtain doesn't endear us to many of the citizens; it in fact does the opposite.
We witness abuse, we question motives, we sympathize with the children—well, at least some of the children—and we wonder if karma is just simply playing its punishment cards for all of the heinous behavior that goes on behind these closed doors.
True to form, Haneke (who attracted attention in 2005 with his thriller Caché) isn't going to spell it out for us.
There are many 'suspects' and layers of people to keep track of, but no clear-cut answer unless you're willing to believe the theory that's presented near the end. It certainly could be true, but if it was that easy, would our journey have been so rough?
Monday, January 18, 2010
A Serious Man
Today I saw A Serious Man, starring Michael Stuhlbarg and Richard Kind.
Larry Gopnik (Stuhlbarg) will remind you of every Jewish man you've ever met. Not in a stereotypical way, but in a cultural way.
He seldom feels the need to raise his voice. His appearance is neat and tidy. His wife is bold and controlling. His work and his children and his property mean a lot to him.
Though he appears to be a dedicated husband, father and professor, each part of his world is slowly being dismantled by external forces. His wife is leaving him for his friend, his children are stealing and taking drugs, and a disgruntled student is attempting to sue him because he won't unfairly inflate his grade.
He also has a frightening militant neighbor, a live-in brother (Kind) who is in trouble with the law and difficulty getting an appointment with the sought-after rabbi at his temple. What would bury most men simply piles up in his mind, causing unavoidable nightmares.
I felt sorry for Larry—not just because he didn't appear to deserve all of the bad things that happened to him, but because his meek nature allowed it to continue. He solves most of these problems by throwing money at them (retaining a lawyer, paying for a motel room to sleep in when his wife kicks him out), but at least he's pressing on.
His resolve in the face of adversity is admirable, and though the scenes and situations are undoubtedly comical, it is refreshing to see a main character who doesn't run from his problems or throw things against a wall when things don't go his way.
Stuhlbarg plays the character expertly with quiet intensity. We can feel his tension and pain, but he doesn't burden us with it; it's all kept inside for him to manage. That is partly a credit to the odd, yet solid script from The Coen Brothers. It feels like a screenplay they spent time on, much like The Man Who Wasn't There, and their Oscar-winning No Country for Old Men.
There are many layers to A Serious Man that us viewers don't get to see, but what we do witness is endlessly satisfying. If how we react to things in life defines us, Larry Gopnik serves as a good example of how to deal.
Larry Gopnik (Stuhlbarg) will remind you of every Jewish man you've ever met. Not in a stereotypical way, but in a cultural way.
He seldom feels the need to raise his voice. His appearance is neat and tidy. His wife is bold and controlling. His work and his children and his property mean a lot to him.
Though he appears to be a dedicated husband, father and professor, each part of his world is slowly being dismantled by external forces. His wife is leaving him for his friend, his children are stealing and taking drugs, and a disgruntled student is attempting to sue him because he won't unfairly inflate his grade.
He also has a frightening militant neighbor, a live-in brother (Kind) who is in trouble with the law and difficulty getting an appointment with the sought-after rabbi at his temple. What would bury most men simply piles up in his mind, causing unavoidable nightmares.
I felt sorry for Larry—not just because he didn't appear to deserve all of the bad things that happened to him, but because his meek nature allowed it to continue. He solves most of these problems by throwing money at them (retaining a lawyer, paying for a motel room to sleep in when his wife kicks him out), but at least he's pressing on.
His resolve in the face of adversity is admirable, and though the scenes and situations are undoubtedly comical, it is refreshing to see a main character who doesn't run from his problems or throw things against a wall when things don't go his way.
Stuhlbarg plays the character expertly with quiet intensity. We can feel his tension and pain, but he doesn't burden us with it; it's all kept inside for him to manage. That is partly a credit to the odd, yet solid script from The Coen Brothers. It feels like a screenplay they spent time on, much like The Man Who Wasn't There, and their Oscar-winning No Country for Old Men.
There are many layers to A Serious Man that us viewers don't get to see, but what we do witness is endlessly satisfying. If how we react to things in life defines us, Larry Gopnik serves as a good example of how to deal.
Saturday, January 16, 2010
The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus
Today I saw The Imaginarium of Doctor Parnassus, starring Heath Ledger and Lily Cole.
Christopher Plummer plays the Doctor, who runs a traveling show with his daughter Valentina (Cole) and a couple of male freaks. He's truly ancient and has made a deal with the devil in return for his immortality (meaning: the daughter goes to the darkness at age 16 unless he does something to reverse the arrangement).
Tony (Ledger) is a man who Valentina and her sidekicks save from a hanging noose (and yes, since this is the first scene we see Ledger in, in the last movie we'll ever see Ledger in, it's especially difficult to watch). He soon proves to be the most valuable member of the traveling show, earning them heaps of money and spicing things up (he joins it because it provides a good front for the people he's hiding from).
Though Ledger doesn't play the main character, his presence does wake the audience up every time he dances (sometimes literally) into the frame. Aside from the rescue scene where he first turns up, the first 45 minutes of this film had me yawning. Circuses have always creeped me out, and as a plot device I think a traveling show with built-in freaks is kind of a screenwriting cop-out.
But anyway, the rumors are true that once the characters enter the Imaginarium, the film does pick up, if only because we want desperately to jump through the screen and create our own version of paradise along with them. It's visually stunning, if you're the romantic, rolling green hills type.
The transition in the Imaginarium from Heath Ledger to Johnny Depp (the first of three actors to take over the part when Ledger died) is utterly flawless, and Depp having all those years in the Tim Burton School of Weirdness feels right at home in the role. He even looks like Heath. Not so flawless: Jude Law, who looks like Jude Law with bad eyeliner.
That leaves the final portion of the role to Colin Farrell, who really gets better and better every day. The man appears to be channeling Ledger here and his charisma and good looks only help seal the deal.
But aside from the cool visuals, the typically great performance from the late Ledger, and the competency of his understudies, Director Terry Gilliam has again led us into an incomplete world of his own making, which simply begs to be properly grounded.
Christopher Plummer plays the Doctor, who runs a traveling show with his daughter Valentina (Cole) and a couple of male freaks. He's truly ancient and has made a deal with the devil in return for his immortality (meaning: the daughter goes to the darkness at age 16 unless he does something to reverse the arrangement).
Tony (Ledger) is a man who Valentina and her sidekicks save from a hanging noose (and yes, since this is the first scene we see Ledger in, in the last movie we'll ever see Ledger in, it's especially difficult to watch). He soon proves to be the most valuable member of the traveling show, earning them heaps of money and spicing things up (he joins it because it provides a good front for the people he's hiding from).
Though Ledger doesn't play the main character, his presence does wake the audience up every time he dances (sometimes literally) into the frame. Aside from the rescue scene where he first turns up, the first 45 minutes of this film had me yawning. Circuses have always creeped me out, and as a plot device I think a traveling show with built-in freaks is kind of a screenwriting cop-out.
But anyway, the rumors are true that once the characters enter the Imaginarium, the film does pick up, if only because we want desperately to jump through the screen and create our own version of paradise along with them. It's visually stunning, if you're the romantic, rolling green hills type.
The transition in the Imaginarium from Heath Ledger to Johnny Depp (the first of three actors to take over the part when Ledger died) is utterly flawless, and Depp having all those years in the Tim Burton School of Weirdness feels right at home in the role. He even looks like Heath. Not so flawless: Jude Law, who looks like Jude Law with bad eyeliner.
That leaves the final portion of the role to Colin Farrell, who really gets better and better every day. The man appears to be channeling Ledger here and his charisma and good looks only help seal the deal.
But aside from the cool visuals, the typically great performance from the late Ledger, and the competency of his understudies, Director Terry Gilliam has again led us into an incomplete world of his own making, which simply begs to be properly grounded.
Monday, January 11, 2010
Leap Year
Tonight I saw Leap Year, starring Amy Adams and Matthew Goode.
I'll start by saying, yes, I knew it would be terrible. But I needed a mindless girl movie tonight, and I suppose I deserved what I got.
Adams plays Anna, and the "A" stands for "Type-A." She stages apartments for a living in Boston and organizes the life of herself and her boyfriend for fun. Jeremy (Adam Scott) is an impressive cardiologist who is good to her, but has not yet popped the question, though they've been together for four years. When he travels to Dublin on business, Anna sees it as her opportunity to follow an Irish superstition and propose to him on February 29. All she needs to do is make it to Dublin and surprise him before then. She has one day...or maybe two days until the 29th. Ah, who cares? You know where this is going.
First, there's (scary, sudden) turbulence on her plane so they have to make an emergency landing in Cardiff. This is handled by the airline almost as nonchalantly as running out of gas with a AAA truck behind you on the highway.
Once Anna lands in Wales, she tries to convince the ticket agents to "re-open" the Dublin airport and when that (shockingly) doesn't work, she rents a boat. Somehow instead of ending up in Dublin, in the midst of the storm she finds herself on a tiny road in a remote Dingle village.
The locals nearly laugh her out of the pub she wanders into (tugging her Louis Vutton bag closely behind), but she has nowhere else to go, so she stays there for the night. What follows is the scene I was hoping wouldn't happen: the obligatory American Woman knocks out the town's power trying to plug in her Blackberry™.
But wait, it gets worse.
The pub owner just happens to be Declan (Goode), who is rough around the edges, but undeniably cute. He agrees (for a large sum) to drive her to Dublin the next day. Small talk turns into sexual tension (via "arguing") and then a herd of cows delay their trip. You heard me: a Herd of Cows. On an Irish country road. The only thing surprising about this scene was that it was cows, not sheep.
Anyway, because of some ridiculous chain of events caused by Anna's American princess impatience, they're soon car-less and back on the road. And they miss a train. And they have to stay in a charming Bed & Breakfast, pretending of course to be married because the old Irish folk wouldn't rent the room to a sinning couple.
I won't even bore you with the rest because you already know what happens. How it happens isn't even difficult to decode.
I'm just incredibly disappointed these delightful actors took the roles because the material was way beneath their talent. Perhaps they just wanted the free time in Ireland? I should hope that was the reason.
And I hope they never do it again.
I'll start by saying, yes, I knew it would be terrible. But I needed a mindless girl movie tonight, and I suppose I deserved what I got.
Adams plays Anna, and the "A" stands for "Type-A." She stages apartments for a living in Boston and organizes the life of herself and her boyfriend for fun. Jeremy (Adam Scott) is an impressive cardiologist who is good to her, but has not yet popped the question, though they've been together for four years. When he travels to Dublin on business, Anna sees it as her opportunity to follow an Irish superstition and propose to him on February 29. All she needs to do is make it to Dublin and surprise him before then. She has one day...or maybe two days until the 29th. Ah, who cares? You know where this is going.
First, there's (scary, sudden) turbulence on her plane so they have to make an emergency landing in Cardiff. This is handled by the airline almost as nonchalantly as running out of gas with a AAA truck behind you on the highway.
Once Anna lands in Wales, she tries to convince the ticket agents to "re-open" the Dublin airport and when that (shockingly) doesn't work, she rents a boat. Somehow instead of ending up in Dublin, in the midst of the storm she finds herself on a tiny road in a remote Dingle village.
The locals nearly laugh her out of the pub she wanders into (tugging her Louis Vutton bag closely behind), but she has nowhere else to go, so she stays there for the night. What follows is the scene I was hoping wouldn't happen: the obligatory American Woman knocks out the town's power trying to plug in her Blackberry™.
But wait, it gets worse.
The pub owner just happens to be Declan (Goode), who is rough around the edges, but undeniably cute. He agrees (for a large sum) to drive her to Dublin the next day. Small talk turns into sexual tension (via "arguing") and then a herd of cows delay their trip. You heard me: a Herd of Cows. On an Irish country road. The only thing surprising about this scene was that it was cows, not sheep.
Anyway, because of some ridiculous chain of events caused by Anna's American princess impatience, they're soon car-less and back on the road. And they miss a train. And they have to stay in a charming Bed & Breakfast, pretending of course to be married because the old Irish folk wouldn't rent the room to a sinning couple.
I won't even bore you with the rest because you already know what happens. How it happens isn't even difficult to decode.
I'm just incredibly disappointed these delightful actors took the roles because the material was way beneath their talent. Perhaps they just wanted the free time in Ireland? I should hope that was the reason.
And I hope they never do it again.
Sunday, January 10, 2010
Me and Orson Welles
Tonight I saw Me and Orson Welles, starring Christian McKay and Claire Danes.
Richard (Zac Efron) is a high school student with dreams of succeeding on Broadway. He gets his foot in the door with a small part in Julius Caesar, which is directed by Orson Welles.
Soon he falls for the beautiful Sonja (Danes) who works at the theater and is heartbroken to learn that in addition to sleeping with him, she'll also go home with the married Welles (McKay) believing it will further her career. It does.
During the production of the show, we see cast members overworked and left in the shadows of the big star, but always willing to make the sacrifice. As they rehearse and take jabs of criticism from their director, it is clear what it must have been like to work with such a polarizing figure in theater, radio and film.
Of course Richard is too immature to mask his anger toward Welles' transgressions and gets himself fired. What happens next in the production and between the two male leads is not entirely unpredictable, but I won't reveal it here.
The reason to go see his movie is the almost eerily accurate performance by Christian McKay. Not only does he physically resemble Welles, he emulates his mannerisms and speech patterns with unbelievable accuracy. He conveys the brilliance and the arrogance of the famed man just as effortlessly as Claire Danes looks beautiful in red lipstick.
But if the theater bores you, or Zac Efron annoys you, the pace may be too slow for your taste.
Richard (Zac Efron) is a high school student with dreams of succeeding on Broadway. He gets his foot in the door with a small part in Julius Caesar, which is directed by Orson Welles.
Soon he falls for the beautiful Sonja (Danes) who works at the theater and is heartbroken to learn that in addition to sleeping with him, she'll also go home with the married Welles (McKay) believing it will further her career. It does.
During the production of the show, we see cast members overworked and left in the shadows of the big star, but always willing to make the sacrifice. As they rehearse and take jabs of criticism from their director, it is clear what it must have been like to work with such a polarizing figure in theater, radio and film.
Of course Richard is too immature to mask his anger toward Welles' transgressions and gets himself fired. What happens next in the production and between the two male leads is not entirely unpredictable, but I won't reveal it here.
The reason to go see his movie is the almost eerily accurate performance by Christian McKay. Not only does he physically resemble Welles, he emulates his mannerisms and speech patterns with unbelievable accuracy. He conveys the brilliance and the arrogance of the famed man just as effortlessly as Claire Danes looks beautiful in red lipstick.
But if the theater bores you, or Zac Efron annoys you, the pace may be too slow for your taste.
Saturday, January 09, 2010
Crazy Heart
Today I saw Crazy Heart, starring Jeff Bridges and Maggie Gyllenhaal.
It was the topic of Cinebanter #85, which is available here.
It was the topic of Cinebanter #85, which is available here.
The Young Victoria
On Thursday I saw The Young Victoria, starring Emily Blunt and Rupert Friend.
The longest reigning female monarch, Queen Victoria, had a very melancholy childhood. Her mother raised her in a cold, isolated environment so she wouldn't be exposed to anyone that would influence her unfavorably. As a result, Victoria had no friends (save for her dog) nor private time, as her mother shared a bedroom with her until she became queen (at age 18). Her mother believed she as a regent, and later Victoria as queen, would restore the good name of the monarchy that had been tarnished in recent years due to the less-than-honorable behavior exhibited by her deceased husband's family.
Unfortunately for her mother, there was never a need for a regent, so when it was time for Victoria to assume the crown, she turned the tables on her and moved her to another part of the palace where she wouldn't interfere. Shortly thereafter, Victoria also married the man she was in love with (her first cousin, Prince Albert) and ruled the way she wanted to rule, confiding in a close political adviser for much of the time.
This film traces that portion of the legendary Queen's life and goes no further than her young, married years. Emily Blunt was in fact perfectly cast to play the role, as she can appear both delicately innocent and brilliantly controlling at once. The real monarch's complexities were revealed clearly in everything from Blunt's posture to the adoring way she looked at her on-screen husband (Friend).
He doesn't do such a bad job either—Friend is enamored, but not desperate over the young beauty, and perfectly conveys this in his portrayal of Albert. He gives him enough of a backbone to be respected, but balances that with a tenderness to be envied.
The film doesn't do a remarkable job explaining why the country turns on Victoria early in her reign, nor how she reclaims their trust, but it does create a beautiful couple in the two main characters, who by all accounts really did love one another until the end.
If you can make it through the chess games and important conversations between those fighting for control over the young queen, watching this will prove to be a pleasurable experience, mostly due to Blunt's flawless performance.
The longest reigning female monarch, Queen Victoria, had a very melancholy childhood. Her mother raised her in a cold, isolated environment so she wouldn't be exposed to anyone that would influence her unfavorably. As a result, Victoria had no friends (save for her dog) nor private time, as her mother shared a bedroom with her until she became queen (at age 18). Her mother believed she as a regent, and later Victoria as queen, would restore the good name of the monarchy that had been tarnished in recent years due to the less-than-honorable behavior exhibited by her deceased husband's family.
Unfortunately for her mother, there was never a need for a regent, so when it was time for Victoria to assume the crown, she turned the tables on her and moved her to another part of the palace where she wouldn't interfere. Shortly thereafter, Victoria also married the man she was in love with (her first cousin, Prince Albert) and ruled the way she wanted to rule, confiding in a close political adviser for much of the time.
This film traces that portion of the legendary Queen's life and goes no further than her young, married years. Emily Blunt was in fact perfectly cast to play the role, as she can appear both delicately innocent and brilliantly controlling at once. The real monarch's complexities were revealed clearly in everything from Blunt's posture to the adoring way she looked at her on-screen husband (Friend).
He doesn't do such a bad job either—Friend is enamored, but not desperate over the young beauty, and perfectly conveys this in his portrayal of Albert. He gives him enough of a backbone to be respected, but balances that with a tenderness to be envied.
The film doesn't do a remarkable job explaining why the country turns on Victoria early in her reign, nor how she reclaims their trust, but it does create a beautiful couple in the two main characters, who by all accounts really did love one another until the end.
If you can make it through the chess games and important conversations between those fighting for control over the young queen, watching this will prove to be a pleasurable experience, mostly due to Blunt's flawless performance.
Friday, January 01, 2010
Broken Embraces
Today I saw Broken Embraces, starring Penélope Cruz and Lluis Hómar.
Magdalena (Cruz) is a secretary who wishes to be an actress. Ernesto (José Luis Gomez) is her wealthy boss, and the man who helped her family when her father grew gravely ill. She repays him by becoming his live-in mistress. Ernesto also has an annoying son (Rubén Ochandiano) who acts as his lap dog.
Mateo (Homar), a charismatic film director, no longer goes by that name. Since the accident that caused his blindness, he's been Harry Caine. He is taken care of by his agent Judit (Blanca Portillo) and her son Diego (Tamar Novas).
Through a series of flashbacks that rewind their lives back to 1992, we see how all of their worlds fit together. Director Pedro Almodóvar does this in such a way that you can't get lost in one era or the other—you're always clear on "when" you are mostly due to Mateo's eyesight or lack thereof (though I did wonder why he wore a non-digital wristwatch in one of his blind scenes).
There is love, betrayal, jealousy, anger, violence, sex, nudity, sensuality, humor, sentiment, creativity, redemption, resolution and color. Lots and lots of color.
From the cherry red suit Lena wears to the rich blues of the beach and the vibrant crosses that grace the walls of two of the main characters' homes, with few exceptions, this movie is drenched in prominent hues.
Those hues help distinguish when we're watching Mateo's movies from when we're lounging in the mansion, or making love at the beach house. They help the characters express their feelings, though we may not realize it until after it's happened.
All of the players are well cast and especially nice to watch is Lluis Homar, who moves seamlessly between a man with sight and a man without. And though I've seen Cruz do better work, it almost wouldn't feel like an Almodóvar film if she weren't the token siren.
You won't get bored in this one, and you'll delight in the aural assault of its visuals.
Magdalena (Cruz) is a secretary who wishes to be an actress. Ernesto (José Luis Gomez) is her wealthy boss, and the man who helped her family when her father grew gravely ill. She repays him by becoming his live-in mistress. Ernesto also has an annoying son (Rubén Ochandiano) who acts as his lap dog.
Mateo (Homar), a charismatic film director, no longer goes by that name. Since the accident that caused his blindness, he's been Harry Caine. He is taken care of by his agent Judit (Blanca Portillo) and her son Diego (Tamar Novas).
Through a series of flashbacks that rewind their lives back to 1992, we see how all of their worlds fit together. Director Pedro Almodóvar does this in such a way that you can't get lost in one era or the other—you're always clear on "when" you are mostly due to Mateo's eyesight or lack thereof (though I did wonder why he wore a non-digital wristwatch in one of his blind scenes).
There is love, betrayal, jealousy, anger, violence, sex, nudity, sensuality, humor, sentiment, creativity, redemption, resolution and color. Lots and lots of color.
From the cherry red suit Lena wears to the rich blues of the beach and the vibrant crosses that grace the walls of two of the main characters' homes, with few exceptions, this movie is drenched in prominent hues.
Those hues help distinguish when we're watching Mateo's movies from when we're lounging in the mansion, or making love at the beach house. They help the characters express their feelings, though we may not realize it until after it's happened.
All of the players are well cast and especially nice to watch is Lluis Homar, who moves seamlessly between a man with sight and a man without. And though I've seen Cruz do better work, it almost wouldn't feel like an Almodóvar film if she weren't the token siren.
You won't get bored in this one, and you'll delight in the aural assault of its visuals.
Wednesday, December 30, 2009
Sherlock Holmes
Tonight I saw Sherlock Holmes, starring Robert Downey Jr. and Jude Law.
Guy Ritchie's dumbed-down version of Holmes is not without appeal, it's just not what I've pictured of the character all my life.
The dapper Sherlock (Downey Jr.) is in between cases after solving a big one and has turned into somewhat of a hermit. His faithful Watson (Law) encourages him to get back to work, and additional motivation is found by Irene (Rachel McAdams). I don't think I'd be out of line here mentioning that the chemistry between Downey Jr. and Law is far more electric than that of Downey Jr. and McAdams.
Anyway, soon the three are on the chase with Holmes predictably outwitting everyone in his path (and stopping to explain himself after each feat). The fight scenes are predictably exciting (since that's Ritchie's "thing"), but at times it's almost expected that a "BOOM" or "POW" will emerge from a puffy cloud above their heads. It's that comic book-ish.
Nevertheless, I'd say the greatest elements of the film are the cinematography and the art direction. London looks so gray and spooky, I remembered how I felt years ago when visiting the city, I took a Jack the Ripper murder mystery tour that led me well into the night. It creeped me out; not only because the stories I was hearing were true, but because the mood was "just right."
And while I don't believe the character portrayals (though undeniably entertaining) are faithful enough to their literary counterparts, I do appreciate how cool it all was to watch.
Guy Ritchie's dumbed-down version of Holmes is not without appeal, it's just not what I've pictured of the character all my life.
The dapper Sherlock (Downey Jr.) is in between cases after solving a big one and has turned into somewhat of a hermit. His faithful Watson (Law) encourages him to get back to work, and additional motivation is found by Irene (Rachel McAdams). I don't think I'd be out of line here mentioning that the chemistry between Downey Jr. and Law is far more electric than that of Downey Jr. and McAdams.
Anyway, soon the three are on the chase with Holmes predictably outwitting everyone in his path (and stopping to explain himself after each feat). The fight scenes are predictably exciting (since that's Ritchie's "thing"), but at times it's almost expected that a "BOOM" or "POW" will emerge from a puffy cloud above their heads. It's that comic book-ish.
Nevertheless, I'd say the greatest elements of the film are the cinematography and the art direction. London looks so gray and spooky, I remembered how I felt years ago when visiting the city, I took a Jack the Ripper murder mystery tour that led me well into the night. It creeped me out; not only because the stories I was hearing were true, but because the mood was "just right."
And while I don't believe the character portrayals (though undeniably entertaining) are faithful enough to their literary counterparts, I do appreciate how cool it all was to watch.
Saturday, December 26, 2009
A Single Man
This afternoon I saw A Single Man, starring Colin Firth and Julianne Moore.
George (Firth) is a British gay English professor teaching at California's Stanford University. It's the early 60s and he's arrived at a time in his life where he no longer finds it worth living. For eight years he's mourned the loss of his lover Jim (Matthew Goode) whom we meet in flashbacks.
It seems the only people who care for George are his friend Charley (Moore), who has spent their friendship wishing he was straight; and Kenny (Nicholas Hoult), a nosy student who seems genuinely concerned about him. And attracted to him.
We follow George through memories of happier times and through the rituals that one endures when they're preparing to end their life: getting the affairs in order, writing goodbye letters, saying nice things to those around them perhaps to show the compassion they felt they were never given.
He spends one last night with Charley, and then sparked by a warm memory, decides to have a drink at the local bar where he met Jim. Following close behind him is Kenny, who he decides to spend the evening with.
Before I go any further, I have to state that all of these scenes play out in quiet, muted tones until something in the character ignites and the color on the screen pops to illustrate it. This could be annoying if not done well, but Director Tom Ford, fashion phenom, happens to know color. It's a technique that not all could use, but he uses it well.
Also to note is the absolute perfect casting Ford found in Colin Firth. Just as convincingly as he usually plays a handsome heterosexual suitor, here he is most certainly a gay college professor with an appetite for only men. It may just be the role of his career.
Not to be understated is the pitch-perfect performance by Julianne Moore and the mature turn of roles for About a Boy's Nicholas Hoult. He's still a fantastic actor, but now instead of being awkward and pudgy, he's handsome, chiseled and...nude. After getting past the same mannerisms he had as a child, it's not hard to see him as a completely grown-up (hot) young man.
This field trip of pain isn't exactly the most pleasant thing to watch, but it's also not as dark as it could have been. Sometimes it's a comfort to see a film where humans just simply act human.
George (Firth) is a British gay English professor teaching at California's Stanford University. It's the early 60s and he's arrived at a time in his life where he no longer finds it worth living. For eight years he's mourned the loss of his lover Jim (Matthew Goode) whom we meet in flashbacks.
It seems the only people who care for George are his friend Charley (Moore), who has spent their friendship wishing he was straight; and Kenny (Nicholas Hoult), a nosy student who seems genuinely concerned about him. And attracted to him.
We follow George through memories of happier times and through the rituals that one endures when they're preparing to end their life: getting the affairs in order, writing goodbye letters, saying nice things to those around them perhaps to show the compassion they felt they were never given.
He spends one last night with Charley, and then sparked by a warm memory, decides to have a drink at the local bar where he met Jim. Following close behind him is Kenny, who he decides to spend the evening with.
Before I go any further, I have to state that all of these scenes play out in quiet, muted tones until something in the character ignites and the color on the screen pops to illustrate it. This could be annoying if not done well, but Director Tom Ford, fashion phenom, happens to know color. It's a technique that not all could use, but he uses it well.
Also to note is the absolute perfect casting Ford found in Colin Firth. Just as convincingly as he usually plays a handsome heterosexual suitor, here he is most certainly a gay college professor with an appetite for only men. It may just be the role of his career.
Not to be understated is the pitch-perfect performance by Julianne Moore and the mature turn of roles for About a Boy's Nicholas Hoult. He's still a fantastic actor, but now instead of being awkward and pudgy, he's handsome, chiseled and...nude. After getting past the same mannerisms he had as a child, it's not hard to see him as a completely grown-up (hot) young man.
This field trip of pain isn't exactly the most pleasant thing to watch, but it's also not as dark as it could have been. Sometimes it's a comfort to see a film where humans just simply act human.
Friday, December 25, 2009
Nine
Today I saw Nine, starring Daniel Day-Lewis and a slew of women.
Director Guido Contini (Day-Lewis) has the weight of the world on his shoulders. He believes this is because he is about to make another film, but really it's because he can't successfully manage his addiction to women.
We meet each of the ladies in his life through a series of musical numbers and brief encounters with him. His mistress (Penelope Cruz) gets the most screen time.
Really, there's not much of a story here and therein lies the problem. A famous, handsome director is approaching a state of nervous breakdown because he has it all and "all" turns out to be too much.
His wife Louisa (Marion Cotillard), aside from being beautiful, does nothing to convince us that he wouldn't get bored being married to her. She's alternately obedient and disobedient, then finally unwilling to look the other way at her husband's transgressions. He probably truly loves her, but then again, he probably truly loves all of them.
A consistent ear for him comes in the form of Lilli (Dame Judi Dench), a wise costume designer that sees not only his aesthetic vision, but also his wandering eye. She provides a motherly like counsel for him while his real mother (Sophia Loren) appears to be paraded out into numbers just so we can marvel at how beautiful she still is.
In the not-sure-why-they're-even-there department we find a Vogue writer named Stephanie (Kate Hudson) who offers possibly the best dance sequence, though shows no evidence beyond physical attraction that she has a connection with Guido. There's also a very random number with the voluptuous Saraghina (Fergie), an apparent beach recluse who enabled the younger Guido to learn about women. She's easily the best singer of the bunch (no surprise there), but her performance feels underutilized because she barely moves from her dancing chair.
Also on screen is the director's muse, Claudia (Nicole Kidman) who serves as nothing more than a reminder that Guido likes beautiful women. Hey, guess what? We already knew that.
His most believable and developed relationship is with his mistress Carla, who truly loves him despite her own marriage. He treats her as men typically treat their mistresses: hiding her away and orchestrating her every move, then forgetting about her once he's had his fill of the sex and adoration only a good mistress can provide. And yes, there are always consequences for all involved.
The shame about this movie is the amount of Oscar® caliber talent that shares the screen, but with the exception of Day-Lewis, doesn't get to prove it. He is amazing in whatever he does and this role is no different—in fact, the most delightful thing about Nine is finally seeing him act as a somewhat traditional leading man. He's sexy, he's well-dressed, he hasn't killed anyone (that we know of) and good God, he even sings!
But it's not enough to make up for this pieced-together series of vignettes that are too weak to amount to a quality musical.
Director Guido Contini (Day-Lewis) has the weight of the world on his shoulders. He believes this is because he is about to make another film, but really it's because he can't successfully manage his addiction to women.
We meet each of the ladies in his life through a series of musical numbers and brief encounters with him. His mistress (Penelope Cruz) gets the most screen time.
Really, there's not much of a story here and therein lies the problem. A famous, handsome director is approaching a state of nervous breakdown because he has it all and "all" turns out to be too much.
His wife Louisa (Marion Cotillard), aside from being beautiful, does nothing to convince us that he wouldn't get bored being married to her. She's alternately obedient and disobedient, then finally unwilling to look the other way at her husband's transgressions. He probably truly loves her, but then again, he probably truly loves all of them.
A consistent ear for him comes in the form of Lilli (Dame Judi Dench), a wise costume designer that sees not only his aesthetic vision, but also his wandering eye. She provides a motherly like counsel for him while his real mother (Sophia Loren) appears to be paraded out into numbers just so we can marvel at how beautiful she still is.
In the not-sure-why-they're-even-there department we find a Vogue writer named Stephanie (Kate Hudson) who offers possibly the best dance sequence, though shows no evidence beyond physical attraction that she has a connection with Guido. There's also a very random number with the voluptuous Saraghina (Fergie), an apparent beach recluse who enabled the younger Guido to learn about women. She's easily the best singer of the bunch (no surprise there), but her performance feels underutilized because she barely moves from her dancing chair.
Also on screen is the director's muse, Claudia (Nicole Kidman) who serves as nothing more than a reminder that Guido likes beautiful women. Hey, guess what? We already knew that.
His most believable and developed relationship is with his mistress Carla, who truly loves him despite her own marriage. He treats her as men typically treat their mistresses: hiding her away and orchestrating her every move, then forgetting about her once he's had his fill of the sex and adoration only a good mistress can provide. And yes, there are always consequences for all involved.
The shame about this movie is the amount of Oscar® caliber talent that shares the screen, but with the exception of Day-Lewis, doesn't get to prove it. He is amazing in whatever he does and this role is no different—in fact, the most delightful thing about Nine is finally seeing him act as a somewhat traditional leading man. He's sexy, he's well-dressed, he hasn't killed anyone (that we know of) and good God, he even sings!
But it's not enough to make up for this pieced-together series of vignettes that are too weak to amount to a quality musical.
Thursday, December 24, 2009
The Princess and the Frog
Tonight I saw The Princess and the Frog, featuring the voices of Anika Noni Rose and Bruno Campos.
Tiana (Rose) is a working girl. She was raised by a seamstress and a military man, and has grown into a popular New Orleans waitress who is saving up to open her own restaurant. One night when she's working at a party hosted by her friend Charlotte (Jennifer Cody), she stumbles upon a frog who promises her the money to open her restaurant if she grants him a kiss. She complies, but instead of him turning into a prince to produce the money, she turns into a frog as well. Turns out he mistook her for a princess so the kiss didn't work.
After many adventures in the bayou in an effort to return themselves to their normal state, the two fall genuinely in love and seek the help of a voodoo priestess. Before we find out if her solution will work, they make friends with creatures from the swamp—Ray, the lightning bug who is more appealing in spirit than in appearance; and Marlon, an alligator who likes to play horns. There are a several cute musical numbers (nothing makes a more adorable accordion than a caterpillar) in the classic Disney tradition, where the leads are surrounded by dancing animals. There are also scary moments where the Shadow Man (who looks like a cross between John Waters and Prince) attempts to ruin all of the good people with his evil spells.
The film is getting much attention for the detail that is most insignificant in the story: Tiana is black. Thankfully, Disney doesn't make race an "issue" here and simply tells a sweet love story.
But after that, there isn't much to it. It is a beautiful film by way of old-fashioned hand-drawings, which burst with color, and that's infinitely pleasant to watch. But the characters aren't very deeply recognized and the ending (as with most Disney flicks) is painfully easy to predict.
Tiana (Rose) is a working girl. She was raised by a seamstress and a military man, and has grown into a popular New Orleans waitress who is saving up to open her own restaurant. One night when she's working at a party hosted by her friend Charlotte (Jennifer Cody), she stumbles upon a frog who promises her the money to open her restaurant if she grants him a kiss. She complies, but instead of him turning into a prince to produce the money, she turns into a frog as well. Turns out he mistook her for a princess so the kiss didn't work.
After many adventures in the bayou in an effort to return themselves to their normal state, the two fall genuinely in love and seek the help of a voodoo priestess. Before we find out if her solution will work, they make friends with creatures from the swamp—Ray, the lightning bug who is more appealing in spirit than in appearance; and Marlon, an alligator who likes to play horns. There are a several cute musical numbers (nothing makes a more adorable accordion than a caterpillar) in the classic Disney tradition, where the leads are surrounded by dancing animals. There are also scary moments where the Shadow Man (who looks like a cross between John Waters and Prince) attempts to ruin all of the good people with his evil spells.
The film is getting much attention for the detail that is most insignificant in the story: Tiana is black. Thankfully, Disney doesn't make race an "issue" here and simply tells a sweet love story.
But after that, there isn't much to it. It is a beautiful film by way of old-fashioned hand-drawings, which burst with color, and that's infinitely pleasant to watch. But the characters aren't very deeply recognized and the ending (as with most Disney flicks) is painfully easy to predict.
Monday, December 21, 2009
It's Complicated
Tonight I screened It's Complicated, starring Meryl Streep and Alec Baldwin.
Divorce is never easy, especially when your husband leaves you for a woman half your age. That's what Jane (Streep) has had to deal with for the past ten years. But she's moved on gracefully, creating a beautiful home of her own and a successful business.
Jake (Baldwin), her ex, is not as happy—helping his young wife raise her 5-year-old and being pressured into producing a child with her via fertility treatments. He has "no quiet" in his life when he needs it most.
When the former mates reunite at the same hotel for their son's graduation, the wine flows and the sparks fly. They end up in bed and are so euphoric after their one night together, they decide to do it again...and again.
All of this is kept from their three grown kids, though their charming soon-to-be son-in-law Harley (John Krasinski) accidentally sees them together at a local hotel. Lucky for them, he keeps his mouth shut.
Meanwhile, Jane's architect Adam (Steve Martin), damaged by his own divorce, is falling for her and hoping that she's available.
After discussing her indiscretions with her girlfriends and her shrink, though she likes Adam, Jane decides to give the affair with Jake a shot. Of course, trouble follows.
The movie is shamefully predictable and aimed at the 50-something female demographic (though Jane's girlfriends sure do disappear early in the film). That said, I will never complain about spending two hours with these two leads. Their performances are spirited and Steve Martin is simply delicious icing on the middle-aged cake.
There is nothing new to be learned from this film. Sex with an ex can be great. People do have affairs. People do fall out of love with their spouses. People do always wonder "what if?"
At least this one lets you laugh along the way.
Divorce is never easy, especially when your husband leaves you for a woman half your age. That's what Jane (Streep) has had to deal with for the past ten years. But she's moved on gracefully, creating a beautiful home of her own and a successful business.
Jake (Baldwin), her ex, is not as happy—helping his young wife raise her 5-year-old and being pressured into producing a child with her via fertility treatments. He has "no quiet" in his life when he needs it most.
When the former mates reunite at the same hotel for their son's graduation, the wine flows and the sparks fly. They end up in bed and are so euphoric after their one night together, they decide to do it again...and again.
All of this is kept from their three grown kids, though their charming soon-to-be son-in-law Harley (John Krasinski) accidentally sees them together at a local hotel. Lucky for them, he keeps his mouth shut.
Meanwhile, Jane's architect Adam (Steve Martin), damaged by his own divorce, is falling for her and hoping that she's available.
After discussing her indiscretions with her girlfriends and her shrink, though she likes Adam, Jane decides to give the affair with Jake a shot. Of course, trouble follows.
The movie is shamefully predictable and aimed at the 50-something female demographic (though Jane's girlfriends sure do disappear early in the film). That said, I will never complain about spending two hours with these two leads. Their performances are spirited and Steve Martin is simply delicious icing on the middle-aged cake.
There is nothing new to be learned from this film. Sex with an ex can be great. People do have affairs. People do fall out of love with their spouses. People do always wonder "what if?"
At least this one lets you laugh along the way.
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Up in the Air
This morning I saw Up in the Air, starring George Clooney and Vera Farmiga.
Ryan Bingham (Clooney) is slimy. Not in the way a car salesman is slimy (though he does a little motivational speaking on the side), but in a way that only those prone to habitual selfishness can be. His family barely knows him. He is wifeless. He is childless.
So, he has the perfect job. He's a professional "terminator" who flies all over the country to fire the employees of downsizing companies. He takes pride in his resolution techniques and has an obsession with accumulating frequent flier miles.
When new recruit Natalie (Anna Kendrick) comes on the scene with a technological idea that will ground Bingham and his colleagues from in-person firings, he doesn't take the news lightly and complains to the boss. As a result, he's assigned to show Natalie the ropes by taking her on a series of trips and training her how to do his in-person job.
These scenes—and the relationship that develops—could have been painfully predictable were it not for the smart writing that instead made it believable. The two don't become best friends and they're not interested in being lovers, but they do stand to learn a lot from one another.
Also on the journey is Alex (Farmiga), a spunky businesswoman who seems to be the male version of Ryan and has no reservations about starting a sexual relationship with him the first night they meet. Alex and Ryan would be vastly unappealing alone, but together seem better.
What transpires will please some and disappoint others, but few can dispute this film is engaging, smart and entertaining. Farmiga should be a bigger star by now and Kendrick is a new, nice surprise. Clooney is at his charming best when he's playing himself, and I would bargain this role comes pretty close.
If I had to find something wrong with the film it would be seeing Jason Bateman for the upteenth time as the stuffy, corporate guy who talks down to people. As the boss, he reverts back to every other asshole he's played and almost seems tired doing it. Guess what: we're tired of seeing him do it. He's a good actor—let's utilize him in some better way.
There's also a hefty amount of product placement from American Airlines and Hilton hotels, but for a film based on travel, you almost need some real names thrown in for authenticity.
At the end of the day, the story examines a question many struggle with: is it worth it to go through life with a partner, surrounded by meaningful connections to family and friends, or would we all be better off flying solo?
The answer is different for each of us.
Ryan Bingham (Clooney) is slimy. Not in the way a car salesman is slimy (though he does a little motivational speaking on the side), but in a way that only those prone to habitual selfishness can be. His family barely knows him. He is wifeless. He is childless.
So, he has the perfect job. He's a professional "terminator" who flies all over the country to fire the employees of downsizing companies. He takes pride in his resolution techniques and has an obsession with accumulating frequent flier miles.
When new recruit Natalie (Anna Kendrick) comes on the scene with a technological idea that will ground Bingham and his colleagues from in-person firings, he doesn't take the news lightly and complains to the boss. As a result, he's assigned to show Natalie the ropes by taking her on a series of trips and training her how to do his in-person job.
These scenes—and the relationship that develops—could have been painfully predictable were it not for the smart writing that instead made it believable. The two don't become best friends and they're not interested in being lovers, but they do stand to learn a lot from one another.
Also on the journey is Alex (Farmiga), a spunky businesswoman who seems to be the male version of Ryan and has no reservations about starting a sexual relationship with him the first night they meet. Alex and Ryan would be vastly unappealing alone, but together seem better.
What transpires will please some and disappoint others, but few can dispute this film is engaging, smart and entertaining. Farmiga should be a bigger star by now and Kendrick is a new, nice surprise. Clooney is at his charming best when he's playing himself, and I would bargain this role comes pretty close.
If I had to find something wrong with the film it would be seeing Jason Bateman for the upteenth time as the stuffy, corporate guy who talks down to people. As the boss, he reverts back to every other asshole he's played and almost seems tired doing it. Guess what: we're tired of seeing him do it. He's a good actor—let's utilize him in some better way.
There's also a hefty amount of product placement from American Airlines and Hilton hotels, but for a film based on travel, you almost need some real names thrown in for authenticity.
At the end of the day, the story examines a question many struggle with: is it worth it to go through life with a partner, surrounded by meaningful connections to family and friends, or would we all be better off flying solo?
The answer is different for each of us.
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Friday, December 18, 2009
Invictus
Tonight I saw Invictus, starring Morgan Freeman and Matt Damon.
At the start of the film, Nelson Mandela (Freeman) is just being released from prison and assuming his role as the South African President.
He knows that as he forgives a nation that imprisoned him, he also needs to earn the respect and support of the very people he's forgiving and unify South Africa. Instead of going the traditional route of politics (or not even trying at all), he cleverly goes about it through sport: the traditionally white sport of rugby.
Enter Francois Pienaar (Damon), the Afrikaner rugby captain of the not-so-successful Sprinbok team. He seems like a nice enough guy, but obviously comes from privilege and perhaps is not yet enlightened to Mandela's ability to lead.
Mandela invites him for tea and an instant mutual respect is born—with desirable results for both parties.
The President infuses the captain with the will and inspiration to create a winning team; in doing so the captain begins to build something that all South Africans can agree on. And the rest is somewhat predictable (especially if you know your South African history).
So is the movie good? Sure. Morgan Freeman (who truly resembles Mandela) is always a pleasure to watch and Matt Damon impresses me more and more with every role. In this one, he seems comfortable in the pretty-boy skin, yet still stretches with an African accent.
There are moments of pause that probably wouldn't be there if Clint Eastwood hadn't directed it, but there are also sentimental seconds that last just long enough to bring a tear. Really, a fine balance.
I wish I understood rugby more because the game scenes are aplenty, but I still enjoyed the story nonetheless.
It's just one tiny piece of Mandela's incredible rise to power, and it made me want to see more.
At the start of the film, Nelson Mandela (Freeman) is just being released from prison and assuming his role as the South African President.
He knows that as he forgives a nation that imprisoned him, he also needs to earn the respect and support of the very people he's forgiving and unify South Africa. Instead of going the traditional route of politics (or not even trying at all), he cleverly goes about it through sport: the traditionally white sport of rugby.
Enter Francois Pienaar (Damon), the Afrikaner rugby captain of the not-so-successful Sprinbok team. He seems like a nice enough guy, but obviously comes from privilege and perhaps is not yet enlightened to Mandela's ability to lead.
Mandela invites him for tea and an instant mutual respect is born—with desirable results for both parties.
The President infuses the captain with the will and inspiration to create a winning team; in doing so the captain begins to build something that all South Africans can agree on. And the rest is somewhat predictable (especially if you know your South African history).
So is the movie good? Sure. Morgan Freeman (who truly resembles Mandela) is always a pleasure to watch and Matt Damon impresses me more and more with every role. In this one, he seems comfortable in the pretty-boy skin, yet still stretches with an African accent.
There are moments of pause that probably wouldn't be there if Clint Eastwood hadn't directed it, but there are also sentimental seconds that last just long enough to bring a tear. Really, a fine balance.
I wish I understood rugby more because the game scenes are aplenty, but I still enjoyed the story nonetheless.
It's just one tiny piece of Mandela's incredible rise to power, and it made me want to see more.
Wednesday, December 09, 2009
(Disney's) A Christmas Carol
Last night I saw A Christmas Carol, directed by Robert Zemeckis.
To adapt one of the most well-known stories in literature can't be an easy task, but I admire anyone who strives for it, including Zemeckis.
His animated approach (using technology similar to his previous hit The Polar Express) is ambitious and intricate. When you're taken into Scrooge's neighborhood in the first few frames of the film, you're undoubtedly stepping into Dickens' England. Not only do the buildings and streets appear real, the faces of the characters are much closer to actual human likenesses than any other animated film to date. Even the cleavage on the dancing women is convincing. Yes, I said cleavage.
And that brings me to my next point: this is not a movie for young children. Because the dialog stays very faithful to the original text (and that's a good thing), many of the scenes are dark and frightening. The spirits (except for maybe the Ghost of Christmas Present, who is somewhat goofy) will seem creepy even to adults. The Grim Reaper-like essence of the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come elevates the evil to a definite PG level.
The voices are also startling--though Jim Carrey provides the pipes for Scrooge AND all three spirits. The action scenes (mostly Scrooge being transported from place to place) are also extremely loud, and if you see it in IMAX as I did, you may want to pack some earplugs.
So how does this version measure up to previous versions? Well, nothing can beat the classic live action version in 1951 starring Alastair Sim or the more popular George C. Scott interpretation from 1984. But as far as making the original images from the book illustrations and the story come to life, this is as good as it gets.
The timeless lesson is as relevant today as when Dickens' wrote it in 1843. At the core of the film is a delightful old story about a man who has to battle his inner-demons to realize what life should be all about. One can only contemplate what our world would be like if everyone were held to such an extreme manner of self-evaluation.
To adapt one of the most well-known stories in literature can't be an easy task, but I admire anyone who strives for it, including Zemeckis.
His animated approach (using technology similar to his previous hit The Polar Express) is ambitious and intricate. When you're taken into Scrooge's neighborhood in the first few frames of the film, you're undoubtedly stepping into Dickens' England. Not only do the buildings and streets appear real, the faces of the characters are much closer to actual human likenesses than any other animated film to date. Even the cleavage on the dancing women is convincing. Yes, I said cleavage.
And that brings me to my next point: this is not a movie for young children. Because the dialog stays very faithful to the original text (and that's a good thing), many of the scenes are dark and frightening. The spirits (except for maybe the Ghost of Christmas Present, who is somewhat goofy) will seem creepy even to adults. The Grim Reaper-like essence of the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come elevates the evil to a definite PG level.
The voices are also startling--though Jim Carrey provides the pipes for Scrooge AND all three spirits. The action scenes (mostly Scrooge being transported from place to place) are also extremely loud, and if you see it in IMAX as I did, you may want to pack some earplugs.
So how does this version measure up to previous versions? Well, nothing can beat the classic live action version in 1951 starring Alastair Sim or the more popular George C. Scott interpretation from 1984. But as far as making the original images from the book illustrations and the story come to life, this is as good as it gets.
The timeless lesson is as relevant today as when Dickens' wrote it in 1843. At the core of the film is a delightful old story about a man who has to battle his inner-demons to realize what life should be all about. One can only contemplate what our world would be like if everyone were held to such an extreme manner of self-evaluation.
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