Saturday, November 28, 2015

Creed


Creed poster.jpg

Released:  November 25th, 2015
Rated:  PG-13
Distributor:  Warner Bros.
Starring:  Michael B. Jordan, Sylvester Stallone, Tessa Thompson, Phylicia Rashad
Directed by:  Ryan Coogler
Written by:  Ryan Coogler, Aaron Covington
Personal Bias Alert:  never seen a Rocky film

7.8 of 10







            It seems that in 2015, the 7th time’s the charm.  Furious 7 racked up money and praise back in April, and Creed appears to be going in the same direction.  Oddly, both films find their series at tricky crossroads, unable to continue as they had before.  The Fast and Furious series lost one of its stars.  Creed must admit that Rocky Balboa (Sylvester Stallone) can no longer box.  The magnitude of these changes cannot be understated, and if nothing else, both series have seized the moment and delivered a crowd-pleasing entry for their die-hard fans.

            In Creed, the baton is passed from Rocky to Creed’s illegitimate son, Adonis (Michael B. Jordan).  Adonis is trying to prove himself without using his father’s reputation, making his way under the surname Johnson.  Of course, the illegitimate tag gnaws at him, and he’s angered at the thought of taking the name of a man he never met.  This doesn’t stop him from taking advantage of the connection to get Rocky in his corner, though (a contradiction that is thankful acknowledged), and the two form a relationship far beyond that of coach and trainee.

            The formula for the Rocky movies have always been well-worn, and Creed does nothing to change that.  We know all along that Rocky and Adonis will form a close relationship, that complications will arise, and then a big fight will bring them back together.  Like all great sports movies, the winning and losing isn’t what it’s all about.  The fight is symbolic, and unfortunately for Creed, that symbol is its weakest link.  The film’s metaphor is too simple and too clean to knock you out, a misstep that is a holdover from writer/director Ryan Coogler’s previous film, Fruitvale Station.  Neither film is sunk by this simplicity, but it’s more apparent in this drug out behemoth.  There’s just too much tire-spinning, too many moments of macho men acting out, and yes, too many training montages.  If these moments had built on each other to complicate the core relationship then we’d be having an entirely different conversation, but the film uses them only to pound down the same points, leaving the middle section feeling a bit weary.

            Still, complicated is not a defining word of the Rocky series, and fans that are turning up for a good-ole underdog story won’t be disappointed.  Jordan turns in an effervescent performance as Adonis, showing that he’s more than capable of carrying the sweat and the charm of the series.  Stallone is as comfortable as he’ll ever be in a role, and even if he’s not your cup of tea (he’s certainly not mine), it’s hard to argue against such a solid performance.  You’re third lead here would have to be Tessa Thompson, another charismatic actor that, like Jordan, has unfortunately been held back by the color of her skin.  Both should be much bigger stars than they are, and perhaps the best thing about Creed is that the continued series should become a career stabilizer for both of them.  Thompson plays Adonis’s love interest, a role that starts out as touchingly well-rounded but unfortunately fades.  And yet, Thompson and Jordan give such excellent performances that their relationship always works, and it will be a pleasure to see where they, along with Sly’s Rocky, end up next.

            What separates Creed from the sports movie pack is just how well it’s made, partially thanks to the performances that have already been outlined and partially because of Coogler’s direction.  His faults as a writer aside, Coogler is an unusually assured young filmmaker, taking chances here that mostly pay off in a beautiful and moving film.  The camera swirls, ducks, and pounds with the fighters, and the score goes big and sweeping.  In spite of the film’s simplicity, Coogler will play your emotions like a fiddle, and that last fight will certainly leave you feeling something, even if it does fall short of the genre’s legends.

            Coogler has made Creed into a reboot worthy of continued entries.  There are aspects of these characters that would be interesting to explore, and Jordan and Thompson prove to be a duo that will be exciting to watch well into the future.  It’s a rousing success for a very simple franchise and a tantalizing taste of what it’s capable of becoming.

Other Notes:
Ø  Obviously, Rocky is not a series that speaks to me.  That I responded to this film as much as I did is pretty remarkable.
Ø  This gets my nomination for Funniest Performance by a Turtle.
Ø  I do sincerely applaud this series for willingly shifting its focus to non-white people.  I have full confidence that audiences will continue to shell out money no matter the color of the actors onscreen.

Wednesday, November 25, 2015

Stranger than Fiction


Stranger Than Fiction (2006 movie poster).jpg

Released:  November 10th, 2006
Rated:  PG-13
Distributor:  Columbia Pictures
Starring:  Will Ferrell, Maggie Gyllenhaal, Dustin Hoffman, Queen Latifah, Emma Thompson
Directed by:  Marc Forster
Written by:  Zach Helm
Personal Bias Alert:  likes the cast, likes novel-style narration

9.5 of 10






            Harold Crick is a man who counts his toothbrush strokes.  That says a lot about a person, making it exactly the kind of detail that a novelist would hone in on when describing their character.  So precise and so orderly a man would be perfect for high tragedy or comedy, an idea that Stranger than Fiction toys with for the better part of the movie only to flip on its head.  Most of the movie does this, setting up ideas with two possible outcomes only to take option C, a sweet and steady route that goes somewhere between what you thought was possible.

            In the film, Harold (Will Ferrell) wakes up to find his life being narrated.  Only he can hear the voice of Karen (Emma Thompson), who is in fact struggling to finish a book that ends in Harold’s death.  Her observations seem to kick in just when a novel would start, i.e. just when exciting things start to happen in Harold’s life.  It’s a tragedy that it took Harold this long to take an interest in what’s going on around him, but the layers that get peeled back reveal a witty, love-struck man (he’s fallen for an anarchist baker played by Maggie Gyllenhaal) that could easily morph the story into a comedy.  These are the two options laid out for Harold by literary professor Jules Hilbert (Dustin Hoffman), who Harold turns to to figure out which author is bringing about his imminent death.

            The high-concept pitch that a writer is writing a real man’s life is one that’s been used many times over, but what makes Zach Helm’s screenplay truly stand out is the tone he manages to hit.  It’s on the one hand extremely literary in its wording and themes, on the other hand sweet in its romance and characters, on one foot light and breezy in its movement, and on the other foot emotionally impactful in its big moments.  Note that I said tone, singular, because all of this magically feels like one complete feeling.  Of course, the only magic involved is Helm’s pitch-perfect screenplay, which on top of all this makes subtle nods to scientific and mathematic theories without being in-your-face about it.  It’s one of the most approachably smart screenplays you’ll come across, laying a groundwork that would’ve been heartbreaking to see flubbed.

            Luckily, director Marc Forster applies a perfect visual palette to Helm’s tale, picking up on every beat and adding a little flourish to bring it all home.  The film is bright and warm with oddball little things like equations and diagrams popping up as people go about their day.  It’s a subtle nod to the fantasy world the film exists it, one that all films exist in but few feel so comfortable wallowing in.  You are, it says to the audience, being told a story, and it invites you to snuggle in close and be swept along with the tale.

            As if these bountiful riches aren’t enough, the film is bursting with a superb cast, from reliable stalwarts like Thompson and Hoffman to side players like Queen Latifah and Tony Hale.  But this is Ferrell’s movie, and the role demands a gamut of skills audiences hadn’t seen from the comedian in 2006.  He had to be funny, yes, but in a quiet way; the exact opposite of how he was in Talladega Nights and Anchorman.  Mostly, though, Harold must be timid and lovable.  The film, like the book within it, is about figuring out how to find happiness in your life, and its lessons aren’t big or grand.  To make the whole thing work, Ferrell had to scale Harold’s actions down and trust that the larger emotions of the film’s moments would ring through.  Never is that more apparent than in a scene where he strums a guitar, singing in a wavering voice that explodes into a moment of pure ecstasy.  Gyllenhaal’s reaction to his quiet bravery is what makes it work, and this trust that Ferrell and Gyllenhaal show in each other makes for a lovely spark of romance.

            Stranger than Fiction radiates a tenderness that few films dare aspire to, which all but covers up its minor flaws.  The hairs on my neck stand up every time the film espouses its final verdict on life, rejuvenating me in bad times and solidifying me in good.  What more can you ask of your fiction?

Other Notes:
Ø  Don’t miss the fun fact that Emma Thompson plays a writer and is a writer in real life.  See her Best Adapted Screenplay Oscar for 1995’s Sense and Sensibility.
Ø  Admittedly, not everyone else is as high on this film as I am.  Rotten Tomatoes has it at 72%, Metacritic at 67%, and IMDB at 7.6 of 10.
Ø  “Anarchists have a group?”

Friday, November 20, 2015

The Hunger Games: Mockingjay - Part 2


Mockingjay Part 2 Poster.jpg

Released:  November 20th, 2015
Rated:  PG-13
Distributor:  Lionsgate
Starring:  Jennifer Lawrence, Josh Hutcherson, Liam Hemsworth, Woody Harrelson, Elizabeth Banks, Julianne Moore, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Sam Claflin, Donald Sutherland
Directed by:  Francis Lawrence
Written by:  Peter Craig, Danny Strong
Personal Bias Alert:  loved the books, felt the first two movies were rushed

8.7 of 10





            The Hunger Games film series did itself a great disservice with its first two installments.  While they were slick, action-packed entertainments with a good head on their shoulders, they still were paired down too much from the books.  I grimaced when I thought what this would do to the finale, which magnifies every unsure moment and sweeping tide into a cataclysmic revolution entirely out of Katniss’s control.  The brilliance of the book series is in how neatly every little thread comes together.  The film series had dropped too many threads, ones that seem extraneous early on but were actually tiny building blocks for the finale.  This is why I understand people’s aversion to the dramatic tonal shift of the two Mockingjay installments, but the straight and narrow gaze it gains is precisely what elevates it into the upper echelon of popcorn entertainment.

            Mockingjay Part 2 finds Katniss (Jennifer Lawrence) recovering physically from the attack by a mind-warped Peeta (Josh Hutcherson) but without a moment for mental healing.  The revolution led by District 13 is gaining ground, with the obstacles between themselves and President Snow (Donald Sutherland) are quickly falling away.  As usual, the tempestuous Katniss would rather be in the fight than dealing with its aftermath, so she sets off with Gale (Liam Hemsworth), Finnick (Sam Claflin), and company to enter the final fray:  a storming of the Capital.

             Of course, President Coin (Julianne Moore) and Plutarch (Philip Seymour Hoffman) won’t let her jeopardize their carefully orchestrated rebellion, so she’s saddled with a protection team and kept behind the front lines.  Katniss’s removal from center stage is something that could alternately be frustrating or thrilling to the audience.  The Hunger Games very pointedly doesn’t follow the ‘chosen one’ narrative, continuously making it more and more obvious that Katniss is just a girl with a bow and arrow that happened to be in the right (wrong?) place at the right time.  No, she’s a pawn in a much larger game, and both parts of Mockingjay examines just how much she is used by both sides of the fight.

            This along with the series parallel themes about the influence of propaganda takes the viewer down a dismal path, examining just how revolutions start and are sustained.  War is a part of it, of course, but there’s much more sinister and damaging things afoot in Mockingjay that are easier to see when the parts are viewed together.  I attended the Mockingjay double feature for this review, where I saw Part 1 and Part 2 back-to-back.  What’s remarkable is how difficult it is to remember where one film started and the other ended.  They really are a cohesive piece, each part lesser on its own, but a grand, ambitious slice of filmmaking when taken together.

            Director Francis Lawrence keeps the film clipping along, adhering to the production company’s desire for a YA smash.  The action is crisp, clean, and occasionally brutal.  A little girl’s death in the woods is no longer a cause for mourning.  The audience and the characters have moved far beyond that, but there’s still obvious concessions made to keep the PG-13 rating.  Meaningful deaths are rarely seen, and while this takes the sting out of some moments, there’s more obvious ways that its target audience is acknowledged.  The film’s points, at times, are stated a bit too simply, and its plot is still hampered by a love triangle that seems inconsequential even to those onscreen.  And yet even this has a powerful payoff, a small moment where one path is irrevocably shut down thanks to the choices made during war.

            It would’ve been possible to tell Mockingjay in one film if the series had set itself up better for the finale, but Lionsgate wanted a blockbuster franchise, so the crazy dresses and explosions were played up instead of the agonizing decisions faced by Katniss and everyone else caught up in this world.  The first two installments moved at a break-neck pace, making a slowdown for Mockingjay necessary.  Still, there’s barely a wasted moment in Mockingjay, as what may seem like repetitive weariness is designed to wear you down.  Yes, this is a series intended for young adults, and yes, it’s supposed to be a thrilling blockbuster.  Mockingjay just wants you to be thrilled by its ideas as well as its explosions, and it does a riveting job at entertaining you with both.

Other Notes:
Ø  Throughout the two Mockingjay films, there’s several scenes where nameless foot soldiers carry out attacks against the Capital.  Waves of them are cut down so that a select few can complete the mission.  That’s a stark visual motif for the wanton way lives are used in times of war.
Ø  Few things are better than a well-used Michelle Forbes.
Ø  Let’s all take a moment and say a final goodbye to Phillip Seymour Hoffman.

Wednesday, November 18, 2015

Reprise


Reprise film.jpg

Released:  May 16th, 2008
Rated:  R
Distributor:  Miramax
Starring:  Anders Danielsen Lie, Espen Klouman Høiner, Viktoria Winge
Directed by:  Joachim Trier
Written by:  Joachim Trier, Eskil Vogt
Personal Bias Alert:  likes Trier’s Oslo, August 31st, likes opaque films

9.2 of 10






             When it comes to serious art, not much is expected of young people.  Sure, you can break out with a pop song when you’re 16, but just try to get a literary piece or arthouse picture to be taken seriously when you’re twenty-five.  You’ll get smacked down or condescendingly called ‘promising’, a struggle familiar to the two aspiring writers in Reprise and to filmmaker Joachim Trier.  Reprise was his first film, released in his native Norway in 2006 and submitted in the Best Foreign Language Film category at the Oscars that year, but the larger cinematic world didn’t take notice.  It took two years for the film to be released in the U.S., where it never played in more than 15 theaters and, despite getting many rave reviews, was relegated to ‘discovery’ sections on year-end lists.  The flippancy with which people disregard newcomers is a shame because great art is great art, and Reprise is great art.

            Phillip (Anders Danielsen Lie) and Erik (Espen Klouman Høiner) begin the film by mailing their first manuscripts to publishers.  A flight of fancy immediately takes off, and we follow them as they imagine tumultuous but rewarding lives as writers.  They eventually snap back to reality, but the film never really does, continuing to take a meandering path through the young men’s lives and thoughts.  Neither of their careers take off as planned, and the melancholy, unsure life to which they sink is dwelled upon in intimate detail.

            Neither man is particularly sympathetic, as the ooze of their privileged upbringings and expected success makes for a rather off-putting smell.  One young women needs only spend a few minutes with their friends to disparage them all with the quip “It can’t be easy to have problems in this crowd.”  But Phillip does have problems, and Erik is continuously unsure of what to do.  Neither prove to be bad friends, just immature, and it’s this dynamic that Trier explores with such depth.  They and Phillip’s girlfriend, Kari (Viktoria Winge), have all found themselves in situations they don’t fully understand, and they’re not smart enough to admit it.  Their struggles against this fact is at times pathetic but mostly heartbreaking, particularly during a painful trip to Paris by Phillip and Kari.

            As was previously stated, Reprise was Trier’s first feature-length film, and it was early or first-time work for most of the cast, as well.  Perhaps because they were at such similar stages in life as the characters, the tenderness with which they observe Phillip and Erik never becomes romanticized nor absolves them from punishment.  There’s a real sense of trying to capture life as it is, and this along with the frequent dips into the distorted nature of the character’s brains makes the influence of New Wave cinema impossible to miss.  These stylistic flourishes are expertly used, drawing attention to Phillip and Erik’s dreams in a way that feels like a passionate reverie.   The small moments captured in these asides reveals how close to home these characters must‘ve been to Trier and company, but smartly they never let the familiarity lull them into bland stylistic choices.

            All of this culminates in a depth that is seemingly impossible to take in on the first viewing.  There’s an overwhelming sense of being moved by something that’s just out of your reach, something that you understand emotionally if not intellectually.  Multiple viewings is almost sure to reveal Trier’s machinations, but you’ll want to ruminate on the experience before plunging in again.  There’s many things to sort out after watching Reprise, and a film that can affect you on so many levels is certainly worth tracking down.

Other Notes:
Ø  Anders Danielsen Lie is also a practicing physician, because being good at one thing is never enough.
Ø  Joachim has pointedly noted that he is only distantly related to Danish writer/director Lars von Trier.
Ø  If you haven’t seen Trier’s follow-up, Oslo, August 31st, I highly recommend it as well.

Sunday, November 15, 2015

The 33


The 33 (film) poster.jpg

Released:  November 13th, 2015
Rated:  PG-13
Distributor:  Alcon Entertainment
Starring:  Antonio Banderas, Rodrigo Santoro, Juliette Binoche, James Brolin, Lou Diamond Phillips
Directed by:  Patricia Riggen
Written by:  Mikko Alanne, Craig Borten, Michael Thomas
Personal Bias Alert:  likes cast, remembers the real-life incident

5.8 of 10





            Five years ago, the story of 33 trapped miners in Chile captured the world’s attention.  News teams had two ways to approach the story:  either focus on the mine’s terrible safety record or the massive international rescue effort.  One side of the story takes you down the dark alley of capitalism and greed, while the other is an even narrower path of international altruism.  What I remember of the story is the miners reaching the surface to a cheering, flag-waving crowd.  As a world, we chose to applaud the men in the mine and those who saved them.  The 33 makes the same choice, and while that does make it a bit of a lightweight, it still feels wrong not to applaud.

            Even without knowing the particulars of the story, it’s safe to assume that the screenwriters played fast and loose with the facts, as everything in The 33 plays out in tidy, familiar storylines.  A sister, a family, and a pregnant wife is established, the men take a portentous trip underground, and the mine collapses.  This scene, with the rock crumbling around them in the dark, is viscerally thrilling, a top-notch slice of disaster filmmaking that captures the chaos and confusion that must have permeated the situation.  Once the dust settles, a drawn-out survival story ensues, as it took 69 days for the miners to be rescued.

            If the movie is to be believed, then it was faith and family that kept the men going, along with the rousing leadership of Antonio Banderas’s Mario.  Banderas goes big here, shaking his head and yelling vehemently at his fellow men, an energy that is unmatched by any of the other actors.  Rescue efforts on the outside are led by a sister played inexplicably by the very French Juliette Binoche (her ethnicity is never commented upon) and the Chilean Minister of Mining (Rodrigo Santoro).  Both characters have their stirring speeches, but Binoche and Santoro dial them back a bit, making them feel more of a piece with the rest of the film than Banderas’s strained effort.  None of this derails the film, though, as the stories of fathers trying to get home to their families and troubled men having revelations in the dark is superficially easy to connect with.  More troubling problems are hinted at but not explored, indicating that the screenwriters wanted to stick with a relatively upbeat tone instead of dredging through the mud.

            Stylistic choices aside, The 33 has a nearly deadly pacing problem.  Part of this is due to the timeline of the true story, with the miner’s being reached and sent supplies long before they are pulled out.  After watching dirty, sweaty men nearly starve to death, it’s hard not to lose steam once they’re all wearing nice shorts and sleeping on bed pads, and yet the movie drags on for a long time in this state.  Without the early survival-story tension (which is well done considering we all know how the story ends), the cookie-cutter characters and relationship dramas aren’t enough to hold the audience’s attention. 

Even with this limp into the finale, there’s still satisfaction in rooting for people to do right by each other, and that’s what the world ended up doing for 69 days.  In this case, a pat on the back is well-deserved, and that’s what The 33 ends up feeling like.

Other Notes:
Ø  Another inexplicable casting choice is Bob Gunton (the warden in The Shawshank Redemption) as the president of Chile.
Ø  Of course the American drill makes it through.  I know that’s what really happened, but I still cringed a bit.
Ø  The score was done by the late James Horner (Braveheart, Titanic, A Beautiful Mind), and its overt manipulations match what the film is trying to do. 

Wednesday, November 11, 2015

Sunset Boulevard


SunsetBoulevardfilmposter.jpg

Released:  August 10th, 1950
Rated:  NR (predates MPAA)
Distributor:  Paramount Pictures
Starring:  William Holden, Gloria Swanson, Erich von Stroheim, Nancy Olson
Directed by:  Billy Wilder
Written by:  Charles Brackett, Billy Wilder, D.M. Marsham Jr.
Personal Bias Alert:  not a fan of the classics

9 of 10






            “A Hollywood Story” is the understated tagline of Sunset Boulevard, and it’s one that the film earns.  Upon its premiere in L.A., Louis B. Mayer (co-founder of MGM studios) famously yelled at director Billy Wilder “You have disgraced the industry that made and fed you!”  He said this not because Wilder had made a mockery of their industry, but because he showed the world what a mockery their industry actually was.  Sunset Boulevard takes place during the studio system era of Hollywood, when films were churned out by conglomerates that controlled the development, production, and distribution of films.  It’s a foreign concept to modern moviegoers, but at that time, the films Americans saw were entirely controlled by the bigwigs at eight major studios.  Who made them and who starred in them was decided by long-term contracts, and once a studio was done with you, your career was over.

            This is how people like Norma Desmond (Gloria Swanson) came to be.  Like many real-life stars, Sunset Boulevard’s Norma had been famous during the silent era but was pushed out by the studios during the transition to talkies.  With her copious amounts of money she withdrew from life, preserving a slice of her glory days in her mansion and pining for the day when the cameras would return.  Into her clutches wanders a struggling screenwriter named Joe (William Holden), whom she offers a job that can’t be refused.

            As with many classics, the twisted, darkly funny themes of Sunset Boulevard are laid bare for the viewer, but the nudging is so thoughtfully done here, so meticulously planned out, that it’s hard not to get sucked in.  Norma’s wild gesticulations bounce off the indifferent Joe in a way that epitomizes the audience’s willing forgetfulness.  People at that time had no choice but to accept what the studio gave them, so when the studio kicked out a star or a director, there was no one to catch them.  These people’s insulated world would just pick up and go, leaving many of them without the skills to exist in the real world.  What were we to do, then, when one of these relics cropped up out of the dust?  Would we laugh at them, ridicule them, or would we take pity and try to lead them to some sort of peace?  This is the question that Joe never finds the answer to, perhaps because the audience never did, either.

            Wilder and his cowriters clearly pulled no punches when it came to examining the Hollywood of their time, and Wilder spared no expense when it came to seeing his vision through.  Norma’s mansion is a wonder of extravagance, captured in impeccable black and white.  The cast is a top-notch affair, with stars of yesteryear and the future littering the screen.  It’s difficult when watching this film not to exclaim when Buster Keaton or Cecil B. DeMille appear for cameos, and Holden, who carries us through the film, went on to be a well-known star in his own right (The Bridge on the River Kwai, anyone?).  But it’s undeniably Swanson, a legitimate star of the silent era herself, who steals the show.  Her every movement is pitch-perfectly wild, mining Norma for all the pathos and comedy you could ever want, and showing us in a meta way what Norma might have been able to do if given the chance.

            The fact that Sunset Boulevard is a triumph will be a news flash to no one.  It’s been over 60 years since the film was released, and time has only made it slightly worse for the wear.  Despite the move away from the studio system, the broader themes of life in Hollywood and the average man’s relationship to it still remains poignant to this day.  I guess the question you have to ask yourself is:  how much do you really want that pool?

Other Notes:
Ø  Just how meta is Swanson’s casting as Norma?  When the character exclaims that she made Paramount Studios, the same could be said for Gloria Swanson.
Ø  This is one of only 13 films to be nominated for Best Picture, Director, Actor, Actress, Supporting Actor, and Supporting Actress at the Oscars.  One of the other films to achieve this feat, Network, also starred William Holden.
Ø  If only the pictures hadn’t gotten small…

Sunday, November 8, 2015

Spectre


James Bond, holding a gun in front of a masked man, with the film's title and credits

Released:  November 6th, 2015
Rated:  PG-13
Distributor:  Columbia Pictures
Starring:  Daniel Craig, Christoph Waltz, Léa Seydoux, Ralph Fiennes, Monica Bellucci, Ben Whishaw, Naomie Harris, Dave Bautista
Directed by:  Sam Mendes
Written by:  John Logan, Neal Purvis, Robert Wade, Jez Butterworth
Personal Bias Alert:  not a Bond fan, liked Skyfall

7 of 10





            This guy.  We all know Bond, James Bond and the cars, women, and martinis that come with him.  We also know Daniel Craig’s spin on the man, and whether you enjoy his dour era, you can’t deny that it’s banked some good money.  Spectre, no matter how well it does, will be hard-pressed to continue that trend, with the production budget inflating to a reported $350 million (for perspective, Titanic cost $200 million and Avengers:  Age of Ultron cost $250 million).  And what do audiences get for all this dough?  Just an average outing, one that delivers exactly what you expect from a Bond film and nothing more.

            This is a disappointing outcome after a promising pre-production.  The return of Sam Mendes as director had many hoping for another series highlight like Skyfall, and many were excited by the more serious duo of Bond girls that were cast.  But instead of pushing the envelope, Spectre falls back to its roots, taking Bond down another secret organization rabbit hole littered with chase scenes and loose women.  It’s hard to fault the film for the first element (these are action films, after all), but the latter is just tiresome, as eye-roll inducing as many of the antiquated trademarks have become.  What would be so wrong, Bond fans, with loosening the formula a bit?  Wouldn’t it be better to allow Bond to become a modern emblem of masculinity instead of the sad, boozy Sinatra impersonator he’s in danger of becoming?

            Series issues aside, Spectre gets so tied up in trying to bring you everything that you want from Bond that the screenwriters fail to add anything special.  It’s as uninspired as a band playing their decades-old hit; they hit all the right notes, but the boredom is undeniable.   There’s no love and care given to the villain, the love story, or even the investigation.  It’s all familiar beat after beat, endlessly referencing Bond’s past in a vain attempt to bring some meaning.  On the page, none of it is menacing or romantic, and any spark that appears is clearly coming from the excellent work of the people trying to bring the shoddy script to life.

            Mendes blew many fans away with his stylish approach to Skyfall, and he continues that gorgeous effort in Spectre.  If the film was being graded solely on presentation, it would earn top marks, with special accommodations going to cinematographer Hoyte Van Hoytema and conductor Thomas Newman.  They provide an example for how to make Bond’s tropes elegant, delivering the thrilling action sequences and extravagant locations we all expect in a modern package.  Care was given to the background activity of every scene, the lighting, and the music cues, culminating in a film that leads you through every obvious beat without being obnoxiously controlling.  They never betray the formula; they just make it the best it can be.

            Craig continues to keep his Bond an arm’s length away from the audience, and you’ll already know if he’s your cup of tea or not.  Monica Bellucci makes a brief and wasted appearance as an age-appropriate Bond girl (woman?), quickly seceding the film to French actress Léa Seydoux.  There are certain things you must do in the main Bond girl role, primarily serving as a seductress, which Seydoux excelled at in the Cannes-winning Blue Is the Warmest Color and in this.  The extra bit she brings is an air of self-confidence, not that of a plucky upstart, but of a woman who’s taken care of herself for a long time.  She does her best at what is the worst-written character in the film, and her energy saves the role from being an outright failure.  The same cannot be said for Christoph Waltz’s villain, not due to any poor effort from him, but from how largely absent he is.  The lack of a proper villain, or even a clear end goal, is the most problematic aspect of Spectre, and even a mustache-twirling Waltz can’t make him seem menacing enough to last.

            It’s lucky that such a cast and crew came together to lift Spectre’s stale script into decency.  Their efforts make it entertaining, a thoughtless but enjoyable ride that we’ve all been on before.

Other Notes:
Ø  I really like Ben Whishaw as Q:  “I’ve got a mortgage and two cats to feed.”
Ø  The intro of Waltz’s character is captivatingly weird.
Ø  As a Bond novice, I needed more of an explanation for the octopus, but I liked all the imagery they worked in.

Wednesday, November 4, 2015

Ruby Sparks


A block of text with a blank space forming the outline of a woman. A man carrying a woman over his shoulder.

Released:  July 25th, 2012
Rated:  R
Distributor:  Fox Searchlight
Starring:  Paul Dano, Zoe Kazan, Chris Messina, Annette Bening, Antonio Banderas
Directed by:  Jonathan Dayton, Valerie Faris
Written by:  Zoe Kazan
Personal Bias Alert:  loved Little Miss Sunshine, likes mixed tones

4.8 of 10






            The central conceit of Ruby Sparks is that an author can create a person, and not in a metaphorical sense.  A flesh-and-blood Ruby (Zoe Kazan) manifests after Paul Dano’s Calvin writers her up on a typewriter.  Strangely, accepting this phenomenon is the least problematic aspect of Ruby Sparks, which plays as haphazardly with its ideas and tones as Calvin does with his newfound creation.

            Calvin, we quickly learn, is the type of sensitive man that’s as fake as his imagined manic pixie dream girl.  He treads lightly and fumbles over words but quickly reveals a domineering, petulant side.  The pairing of the two archetypes in their meticulously postured home (Calvin has made quite a bit of money from a book years earlier) is as twee as it gets.  Those in tune with this aesthetic will likely find Ruby Sparks’ romantic meanderings endearing, as much time is spent watching the couple, or more specifically Calvin, traverse the ups and downs of the relationship.  However, nothing much is narratively gained during this time, leaving your enjoyment entirely dependent on how much you like being around these two people.

            For such a high-concept pitch, it’s disappointing how much Ruby Sparks leans on aesthetic.  There’s a real sense that Kazan, who also wrote the screenplay, was hesitant to dive into everything the material has to offer.  The film flits around ideas of idealization, relationship expectations, and the ramifications of free will without ever really exploring them.  It seems that Kazan was content with planting an interesting idea inside a charming rom-com, which is sure to frustrate anyone who either yearns for something more or is bothered by the horrify things going on just beneath the surface.

            It’s those horrifying things that stood in the way for me, namely the complete imbalance of power between Calvin and Ruby.  In real life, a relationship that is controlled through physical or emotional methods is considered abusive, and Calvin’s complete control of Ruby always has that lingering feel.  How, then, are we supposed to find delight in their happy moments?  This may be a low blow, but I imagine that the movie has gotten a pass because it was written by a woman.  A man writing about a woman being used would invite knee-jerk accusations of sexism.  A woman writing about this is assumed to be giving some sort of commentary, except Kazan avoids commentary throughout most of the film.  Any intellectual debates the film might incite will come from the person reading into the film’s backstory, not from anything that Kazan put in.  Therefore, why shouldn’t Kazan be taken to task for so flippantly using a disturbing setup in the same way that any man would be?

            By the time the film begins to take itself seriously, those not buying into Dano and Kazan’s admittedly sincere efforts will find it all to be too little too late.  Two scenes towards the end provide tantalizing hints at what Ruby Sparks could have been, and the exhilaration of these scenes, particularly a remarkably staged and acted confrontation between Ruby and Calvin, reveals just what was missing throughout the entire film:  confrontation.  Calvin never has anyone to question what he’s doing nor anything to put his cushy lifestyle into jeopardy.  It’s a rookie mistake from a rookie screenwriter, and three years on with no follow-up, it seems like one that’s unlikely to be learned from.

Other Notes:
Ø  Calvin totally would leave his Jonathan Franzen novels laying conspicuously around.
Ø  Dano and Kazan are a real-life couple, and that translates convincingly onscreen.
Ø  Oh, how I hated Calvin’s cliché-ridden parents.

Monday, November 2, 2015

Goodnight Mommy


Goodnight Mommy.jpg

Released:  September 11th, 2015
Rated:  R
Distributor:  RADiUS-TWC
Starring:  Susanne Wuest, Lukas Schwarz, Elias Schwarz
Directed by:  Severin Fiala, Veronika Franz
Written by:  Severin Fiala, Veronika Franz
Personal Bias Alert:  likes slow-burn horror

9 of 10







            As if America doesn’t produce enough horror movies, everyone else in the world has to go express their fears cinematically, too.  Wading through this deluge is impossible even for the most fervent horror fans, so it’s understandable that most of us ignore foreign horror unless someone pokes their head up to tell you that you’ve got to see one.  I’m here to poke my head up, along with a lot of other lay and profession critics, to say that you’ve got to see Austria’s Goodnight Mommy.

            The film brings an uneasy brand of horror to the table, one that relies on classic genre imagery to maintain its sense of dread.  The two boys the camera follows, twins Elias and Lukas (Elias Schwarz and Lukas Schwarz), rarely speak to each other, and they’re left alone to play in their rural home.  They chase each other through cornfields, wander in a misty woods, and pad softly about their harsh, ultra-modern home.  Their mother has just returned from having facial surgery, her bandages wrapped in a distorting fashion around her face.  She’s tired and irritable, understandable given her condition, but the boys begin to notice that their mother isn’t behaving the way she normally does.  They speculate that she’s been replaced by an imposter, and their quiet game of clue slowly unravels their little family.

            As with all great horror, this hits on a deep-rooted fear:  that your family won’t be there to protect you.  Worse yet, that they may actively cause you harm.  This fear is especially acute as a child, when you’re essentially helpless without their care.  This gives the film the latitude to build to a big, cringe-inducing ending without feeling gratuitous.  Precisely when the film takes that turn will be different for everyone, but eventually any theater showing Goodnight Mommy will become filled with the sounds of squirming bodies and audible gasps.  The climactic scenes truly offer some of the most horrific cinematic moments of 2015, but the journey there is not so dramatic. 

Most of the film is taken up by understated dread, a sensation writer/directors Severin Fiala and Veronika Franz meticulously build.  The lack of sound that I’ve already alluded to plays a big role, heightening your sensitivity to every stern word and pounding footstep.  The pair also have a great eye for visuals, playing out themes and twisting ideas back onto themselves through the framing of the family’s interactions.  It’s a coldly beautiful film, as the best horror often is, and these subtle cues are what creep under your skin and get you primed for the big finale.

This slow pace will prove untenable for some, either because they will despise the limbo the film leads you into or they will simply find it boring.  Slow burns are not everyone’s cup of tea, and this film is certainly in no hurry to bring you any satisfaction.  It’s a mere 99 minutes long, but the time you spend in the theater will drag on.  Even those with an affinity for these sorts of films will likely find its middle section a bit too long, and you may find yourself wondering what myself and others were raving about.  Hang in there, because I was in the same boat and still walked out ready to declare Goodnight Mommy as one of the best films of 2015.

Other Notes:
Ø  Are Red Cross representatives always this pushy in Austria?
Ø  Warning:  body horror ensues
Ø  If you’ve seen this film, please avoid spoilers if you wish to leave a comment.  This is a film best watched without knowing where it’s going, and I’d like everyone to have the optimal viewing experience of such a remarkable film.

Sunday, November 1, 2015

Burnt


Burnt Poster Updated.jpg

Released:  October 30th, 2015
Rated:  R
Distributor:  The Weinstein Company
Starring:  Bradley Cooper, Sienna Miller, Omar Sy, Daniel Brühl, Matthew Rhys, Alicia Vikander, Emma Thompson
Directed by:  John Wells
Written by:  Steven Knight
Personal Bias Alert:  likes Bradley Cooper, not a foodie

4.2 of 10





            Oh crap, a pun-ready title.  That encourages a hard stance, a snappy line that sums up the film in forty characters or less.  Too bad Burnt is messier than that, getting a bushel of things right and a peck of things wrong.  I’d be so easy to tell you all a funny yea or nay, but you’ll be better served by the honest breakdown that follows.  Still, the puns must go on, so here’s my effort:  The end result of Burnt is really more of a singe, luring you in with a solid couple only to give you a painful nip from the half-baked story.

            Still here?  Excellent, because it’s time to get to the good stuff:  Bradley Cooper, Sienna Miller, and all of the cast, really.  This is a film filled with people you’ll recognize but may not be able to place, and you’ll know them because they’re as solid a group of actors as you can get.  Obviously, everyone will know Cooper and Emma Thompson, and many will have gotten familiar with Alicia Vikander, but the rest are a hodgepodge of people who’ve been kicking around the international market for a decade plus.  They aren’t ones to phone in a performance, so even when this material falters, they’re able to pick it up and carry it to the finish line.

            And the material falters quite often, taking an overdone premise (asshole genius fighting his way back to the top) and adding an equally overdone twist by placing it in a small subset of society (high-end cooking).  If you dress up this outline correctly, people think it’s a modern masterpiece, but if you get it wrong, it becomes a groan-inducing bore.  Unfortunately, Burnt falls into the latter category, failing to make the world of chefs engaging or to make its antihero remotely likable.

            The film starts out on the wrong foot in the second category, showing Cooper’s Adam Jones shucking oysters until he hits the magical number of one million.  The instant he’s hit this, he takes a satisfied breath and walks out of the hole-in-the-wall restaurant he’s in, much to the consternation of his employers.  This is meant to play as a moment of redemption, a completion of penance for the wrongs he has done, but by walking away mid-shift, he proves that his time away hasn’t really changed him at all.  If this was simply a jumping-off point it would be a forgivable opening, but the character remains this way throughout most of the film, much to the annoyance of everyone around him, including the audience.  Cooper tries to play up his charm, but the character simply isn’t given any redeeming qualities except that he can allegedly cook well.  This, however, doesn’t engender any sympathy for the character because an understanding and love of cooking is never conveyed to the audience.  Director John Wells and cinematographer Adriano Goldman try to sell the cooking with some energetic montages of Cooper and company experimenting and working the service line, and while these scenes are visually stimulating, it doesn’t actually explain what the hell they’re doing.  The script tries to have the characters wax poetic about it with some clunker lines that are far too overwritten to be powerful, and in the end the cooking comes off as nothing more than a generic thing that all of the characters happen to be doing.  Given that this is a film about an obsessed antihero, the inability to empathize with his obsession is a massive hindrance.

            It’s actually the B-plot, a cliché-ridden romance between Cooper’s Adam and Miller’s Helene that works the best.  She’s a recruit to his new restaurant, and they allegedly bond over they’re passion and skill for cooking.  Again, the failure to explain the cooking hinders this romance on the page, but Cooper and Miller have enough chemistry to make it work on the screen.  Their scenes have an easiness to them that the rest of the film lacks, and for brief moments, you’re actually able to like both of them.  Unfortunately, this is the B-plot, and after a brief moment in the sun during the middle portion of the film, it fades behind the doldrums of kitchen life.

            You’re enjoyment of this movie will really come down to how much mileage you get out of a charming romance and how many clichés you can stomach.  If you’re driven insane by seeing the same movie plots over and over again, then Burnt will be rather unpalatable.  But if you go into it looking for an innocuous romance, then Cooper and Miller will take you on a satisfying little trip.

Other Notes:
Ø  If you want to feel something when you watch people eat, go watch I Am Love.
Ø  The costume design for this film was remarkably dull.  The guys rarely got out of their fitted leather jackets.
Ø  So are cooks really evaluated by a tire company?