Today I saw Joker, starring Joaquin Phoenix and Robert De Niro.
Arthur (Phoenix) is a working-class clown who likes to make children laugh, cares tenderly for his elderly mother (Frances Conroy) and harbors an innocent crush on his attractive neighbor (Zazie Beetz). By all accounts, Arthur is a nice person just trying to life his life.
When he's attacked by some kids who steal the sign he's holding as part of his job, then beaten up by the same crowd when he attempts to retrieve it, it's easy to brim with sadness for him. Through a brief glimpse into one of his therapy sessions, we learn he's on a cocktail of drugs to aid in his mental health and that he dreams of being a stand-up comedian.
Arthur is also obsessed with a Johnny Carson-like talk show hosted by Murray Franklin (De Niro) and watches faithfully. He finally gets the chance to perform at a local comedy club and it doesn't go so well, but Franklin picks up clips from the disaster and uses them on his program, which leads to an invitation for Arthur to appear.
Meanwhile, a colleague gives Arthur a gun for protection, which he graciously accepts. You don't have to be a mathematician to realize that a mentally ill, constantly bullied man with a firearm is a bad idea ... but that's as far as I can go without spoiling.
I must say this, however: Joaquin Phoenix is nothing short of phenomenal in the role. Every expression, every ounce of pain Arthur experiences seeps from his pores onto the screen. When he aches, you ache for him, and when he rages; well—you sort of can't help but rage along with him.
It's truly an intense character study into the deterioration of the human spirit. Someone who could've had a shot at leading a decent life, but got kicked around too many times, and that coupled with other factors creates a monster, somewhat literally. The narrative got so intense I almost couldn't breathe, so I stepped into the lobby to take a moment. I can't remember the last time I film got to me in the same way.
Joker is tragic to claustrophobic proportions and more disturbing than it would be otherwise if our world wasn't presently so cruel.
Incredibly well done.
~~~
Showing posts with label mental illness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mental illness. Show all posts
Friday, October 18, 2019
Tuesday, January 29, 2019
At Eternity's Gate
Tonight I saw At Eternity's Gate, starring Willem Dafoe and Rupert Friend.
The famed painter Vincent Van Gogh (Dafoe) was not accepted as the artistic genius he was during his time on earth. The connection he felt to nature and the closeness he felt to his work weren't fully appreciated while he was alive, but this film aims to validate those aspects of his career.
Filmed on location in Arles, France, where Van Gogh spent his final weeks, Director/Co-Screenwriter Julian Schnabel puts the viewer in a stream-of-consciousness time machine that offers a glimpse of how the artist absorbed and visually shared his surroundings. A friend described the movie as "hypnotic" and that to me was the perfect interpretation of the vibe.
Dafoe, moving easily between English and French throughout the narrative, was captivating as the troubled painter. Aside from physically resembling the real artist (which undoubtedly helps), his manner, the confusion behind his eyes, his passion—it all made us viewers sure we were stealing an intimate look at one of the most fascinating characters in all of art history.
Though the pace is slow and the story not entirely linear (except that it's chronological), it keeps your attention, as you want to know why Van Gogh felt the things he felt and acted the way he did.
There's tragedy in the suffering his mental illness causes; there's sadness in the lack of recognition he received while he was in his prime, but most off all there's light in the beautiful landscapes and people he brought to life through his timeless paintings.
That's what's illuminated so magically in this film.
~~~
The famed painter Vincent Van Gogh (Dafoe) was not accepted as the artistic genius he was during his time on earth. The connection he felt to nature and the closeness he felt to his work weren't fully appreciated while he was alive, but this film aims to validate those aspects of his career.
Filmed on location in Arles, France, where Van Gogh spent his final weeks, Director/Co-Screenwriter Julian Schnabel puts the viewer in a stream-of-consciousness time machine that offers a glimpse of how the artist absorbed and visually shared his surroundings. A friend described the movie as "hypnotic" and that to me was the perfect interpretation of the vibe.
Dafoe, moving easily between English and French throughout the narrative, was captivating as the troubled painter. Aside from physically resembling the real artist (which undoubtedly helps), his manner, the confusion behind his eyes, his passion—it all made us viewers sure we were stealing an intimate look at one of the most fascinating characters in all of art history.
Though the pace is slow and the story not entirely linear (except that it's chronological), it keeps your attention, as you want to know why Van Gogh felt the things he felt and acted the way he did.
There's tragedy in the suffering his mental illness causes; there's sadness in the lack of recognition he received while he was in his prime, but most off all there's light in the beautiful landscapes and people he brought to life through his timeless paintings.
That's what's illuminated so magically in this film.
~~~
Saturday, January 07, 2012
Take Shelter
Tonight I saw Take Shelter, starring Michael Shannon and Jessica Chastain.
Curtis (Shannon) is a family man. He works hard at his construction job each day to provide for his sweet wife Samantha (Chastain) and their young daughter Hannah (Tova Stewart).
Hannah is deaf and needs surgery to try out a cochlear implant. Samantha is relieved when they finally receive word that the insurance will cover it.
But Curtis begins having terrible nightmares predicting an apocalyptic storm. This takes his attention away from his family and his work. He grows paranoid about the supposed impending doom and decides to renovate the storm shelter in their backyard.
At the same time, he's keeping his elaborate (expensive) plans for the shelter from Samantha and beginning to investigate mental illness (since it runs in his family).
As we watch his obsessive paranoia increase, we feel sorry for his patient wife, and even sorrier for him. After all, he may be bearing witness to his own descent into craziness. Or is he?
Michael Shannon plays this role so convincingly, he's more fragile than frightening. His fear is written on his face, but contained in the presence of those he holds dear. And although he is the least reasonable person on-screen at all times, he has the audience rooting for him in spite of it.
I'll be surprised if Shannon doesn't get an Oscar nomination for this role.
Chastain is also good, as are the rest of the supporting cast. Granted, they have a lot less to do, but they are all very believable as simple, Midwestern folks just trying to live their lives. Kudos to writer/director Jeff Nichols for creating 'real' characters.
And I may be in the minority, but I loved the ending. The fact that it wasn't predictable or wrapped up in a big red bow made me smile.
As did the possibility it implied.
~~~
Curtis (Shannon) is a family man. He works hard at his construction job each day to provide for his sweet wife Samantha (Chastain) and their young daughter Hannah (Tova Stewart).
Hannah is deaf and needs surgery to try out a cochlear implant. Samantha is relieved when they finally receive word that the insurance will cover it.
But Curtis begins having terrible nightmares predicting an apocalyptic storm. This takes his attention away from his family and his work. He grows paranoid about the supposed impending doom and decides to renovate the storm shelter in their backyard.
At the same time, he's keeping his elaborate (expensive) plans for the shelter from Samantha and beginning to investigate mental illness (since it runs in his family).
As we watch his obsessive paranoia increase, we feel sorry for his patient wife, and even sorrier for him. After all, he may be bearing witness to his own descent into craziness. Or is he?
Michael Shannon plays this role so convincingly, he's more fragile than frightening. His fear is written on his face, but contained in the presence of those he holds dear. And although he is the least reasonable person on-screen at all times, he has the audience rooting for him in spite of it.
I'll be surprised if Shannon doesn't get an Oscar nomination for this role.
Chastain is also good, as are the rest of the supporting cast. Granted, they have a lot less to do, but they are all very believable as simple, Midwestern folks just trying to live their lives. Kudos to writer/director Jeff Nichols for creating 'real' characters.
And I may be in the minority, but I loved the ending. The fact that it wasn't predictable or wrapped up in a big red bow made me smile.
As did the possibility it implied.
~~~
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Taxi Driver
Last night I screened the 35th anniversary re-release of Taxi Driver, starring Robert De Niro and Jodie Foster.
All the lonely people, where do they all come from?
That line from The Beatles'"Eleanor Rigby"fits this film like a glove, as its main character, Travis Bickle (De Niro), tries to find companionship and contentment in 1970s New York.
He's a veteran of Vietnam (though that detail is not overblown) who has alienated himself intentionally from his family and taken on a job as a cab driver, working extended hours to combat his insomnia.
As he drives the streets of the gritty city, he witnesses horrific acts of violence and deviance. And though he's judgmental of these behaviors, he himself has a porn habit and thinks nothing of taking the woman of his dreams, Betsy (Cybill Shephard), to an adult film on their second date.
When Betsy up-and-leaves near the beginning of the film, Travis is baffled by her reaction and continues to attempt to connect with her, though she rejects him.
He becomes obsessed with righting wrongs in his own way, tries to rescue a not-yet-teenage prostitute, Iris (Foster), and purchases an arsenal of weapons to execute his plan. He is a fully functional, mentally ill mess of a person.
Having watched this film a handful of times on VHS and DVD doesn't compare for a moment to experiencing it on the big screen. Hearing the crowd react to the 'surprises' in the storyline and seeing repeated close-ups of the young De Niro acting primarily through expression truly reveals the genius of director Scorcese's depth.
Iconic lines are delivered with conviction; tension is built through the continuous loop of saxophone; just enough comic relief is introduced to allow the audience to breathe.
A pre-Giuliani New York City is the second most important character to De Niro's Travis, showed as the dangerous, dark place that it once was.
Something must also be said for Jodie Foster's amazing performance as a young hooker who knows no other life. The wisdom of this then-future Oscar winner shines through as she holds her own with De Niro and Harvey Keitel. It's a role all young actors should be forced to watch.
35 years later, Scorcese's masterpiece remains just that—a brilliant character study and master class on portraying mental illness.
~~~
All the lonely people, where do they all come from?
That line from The Beatles'"Eleanor Rigby"fits this film like a glove, as its main character, Travis Bickle (De Niro), tries to find companionship and contentment in 1970s New York.
He's a veteran of Vietnam (though that detail is not overblown) who has alienated himself intentionally from his family and taken on a job as a cab driver, working extended hours to combat his insomnia.
As he drives the streets of the gritty city, he witnesses horrific acts of violence and deviance. And though he's judgmental of these behaviors, he himself has a porn habit and thinks nothing of taking the woman of his dreams, Betsy (Cybill Shephard), to an adult film on their second date.
When Betsy up-and-leaves near the beginning of the film, Travis is baffled by her reaction and continues to attempt to connect with her, though she rejects him.
He becomes obsessed with righting wrongs in his own way, tries to rescue a not-yet-teenage prostitute, Iris (Foster), and purchases an arsenal of weapons to execute his plan. He is a fully functional, mentally ill mess of a person.
Having watched this film a handful of times on VHS and DVD doesn't compare for a moment to experiencing it on the big screen. Hearing the crowd react to the 'surprises' in the storyline and seeing repeated close-ups of the young De Niro acting primarily through expression truly reveals the genius of director Scorcese's depth.
Iconic lines are delivered with conviction; tension is built through the continuous loop of saxophone; just enough comic relief is introduced to allow the audience to breathe.
A pre-Giuliani New York City is the second most important character to De Niro's Travis, showed as the dangerous, dark place that it once was.
Something must also be said for Jodie Foster's amazing performance as a young hooker who knows no other life. The wisdom of this then-future Oscar winner shines through as she holds her own with De Niro and Harvey Keitel. It's a role all young actors should be forced to watch.
35 years later, Scorcese's masterpiece remains just that—a brilliant character study and master class on portraying mental illness.
~~~
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