Showing posts with label Bill Murray. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bill Murray. Show all posts

Sunday, May 31, 2015

Aloha


Aloha poster.jpg

Released:  May 29th, 2015
Rated:  PG-13
Distributor:  Sony Pictures
Starring:  Bradley Cooper, Emma Stone, Rachel McAdams, Bill Murray, John Krasinski, Danny McBride, Alec Baldwin
Directed by:  Cameron Crowe
Written by:  Cameron Crowe
Personal Bias Alert:  huge Almost Famous fan, didn’t think Aloha could be as bad as people were saying

3 of 10




            There’s a certain fascination that overcomes you when watching this big of a train wreck.  It’s not so much a question of how it happened; movies are big, complicated beasts that can go wrong in more ways than you can count, but there is a sense of wonderment about how the film before you got released.  Someone, somewhere sat back after watching it, locked down the edit, and sent it out as a finished product to their bosses and to the world.  The shame and trepidation that must have enveloped them before hitting that send key had to be overwhelming, because no one can look at the final cut of Aloha and see a competent film.

            Competent, mind you, is a very low bar.  I’m talking about something that has a coherent plot and characters paired with an audio and visual presentation that isn’t off-putting.  That’s bare minimum of what a film should be, and Aloha manages to fail at three of these four things.  The first half is such chaos that it’s sort of stunning because you know the people in front of and behind the camera, can tell that they aren’t phoning it in, and it’s still a complete mess.  The film jumps around without any idea of where it’s going, the characters don’t have clear goals, the dialogue is, at times, nonsensical, the shot composition is occasionally ugly, and there’s jarring edits that interrupt any flow that the film manages to start.  The back half settles into something approaching coherence and gives you hints about what the film was supposed to be about, but irreparable damage has been done and you no longer care.

            What I think the film was supposed to be about is Brian Gilcrest’s (Bradley Cooper) struggle for morality.  As the opening narration explains, he once dreamed of going to space, but circumstances far from his control caused his aspirations to become mired in the dirty business of earning his spot.  After a failure and a long recovery, he returns to Hawaii for a chance to get his life back on some sort of track, and whether he chooses the right or wrong direction seems to be the film’s largest question.  Complicating matters is the love triangle between himself, a serious ex-girlfriend (Rachel McAdams), and his young, overly perky military liaison (Emma Stone).  Setting a story like this in Hawaii and steeping it in U.S. military and native Hawaiian culture is actually kind of genius as the relatively short battle between these two groups have gone down as one of the most corrupt and bullying engagements the U.S. has ever embarked upon (I recommend Sarah Vowell’s Unfamiliar Fishes for an entertaining history lesson).  If put together correctly, this could’ve been a rich film about a man and a country’s struggle to achieve noble aspirations in spite of their old, dishonorable habits.

            Unfortunately, Aloha doesn’t cobble this message together until late in the film, and even then it remains murky.  This is one of the films that got caught up in the Sony hacking incident late last year, with reports surfacing that the film was a mess and had to undergo extensive re-edits.  How bad it actually was to begin with isn’t currently known, but whatever edits they did make certainly didn’t improve it.  The final cut is so nonsensical that entire conversations have no meaning and have nothing to do with what happened in the scene before.  It’s as if they hired someone with brain damage, one of those unfortunate people who can’t remember things for more than 30 seconds, and paid them to edit the film.  Someone like that would probably like Aloha, because for all its shortcomings the cast is still likable and Hawaii is still beautiful.  On a moment to moment basis, the character’s arguments and motivations might make sense and the occasional horrendous shot could be quickly forgotten.  But most of us do have long-term memory, and Aloha is a film that will stay in there for all the wrong reasons.

Other Notes:
Ø  The opening credits roll over two entirely different setups.  One is a music montage over images of Hawaiian culture while the other is Bradley Cooper narrating his character’s background.  Neither go together and the transition between the two is abrupt.  It’s like they had two ideas for how to open the film and couldn’t decide which to go with, so they went halfsies in such a way that everyone lost instead of won.
Ø  The romance doesn’t work.  I have no clue if that’s due to the awful edit or a lack of chemistry.  Your guess is as good as mine.
Ø  I don’t think this film is guilty of whitewashing Hawaiian culture, but Emma Stone’s character is certainly whitewashed.  I still love Emma Stone, though.

Wednesday, December 17, 2014

Lost in Translation


Lost in Translation poster.jpg

Released:  October 3rd, 2003
Rated:  R
Studio:  Focus Features
Starring:  Bill Murray, Scarlett Johansson, Giovanni Ribisi, Anna Faris, Fumihiro Hayashi
Directed by:  Sofia Coppola
Written by:  Sofia Coppola
Personal Bias Alert:  prone to ennui when traveling, not very interested in visiting Japan

8.8 of 10






            Lost in Translation came along fairly early in my life, when I was just budding into a ‘movie person.’  It was a time when I could still go into a film with few preconceived notions, mostly unaware of a person’s back catalog and trademark ticks.  I knew Bill Murray, of course, but only from his massive comedy hits like Ghostbusters.  It would be a few years before I became captivated by Scarlett Johansson in Ghost World and much longer still before I understood how unusual it was to have an esteemed filmed be helmed by a woman.  Remember, writer/director Sofia Coppola is one of only four women to ever be nominated for Best Director by the Academy and one of only a handful to win the screenplay award solo.  I’m more than happy to know these things now, to bang the drum whenever I get the chance, but part of me longs for the time before I thought about these things, when I could truly be knocked out by how great a piece of work is without qualifiers like “Yeah, but he’s always good.’

            Lost in Translation brings out thoughts like this, remembrances of little moments and things gone by.  The story exists between two people lost in these thoughts, spinning their wheels in an unfamiliar country and finding solace in each other.  Murray plays a washed-up actor who’s come to shoot a commercial while Johansson plays a young woman tagging along with her photographer husband.  To be honest, I’ve never been able to remember these character’s names.  I looked them up and felt no recognition despite finishing the movie a mere ten minutes earlier.  I suppose I simply don’t see them as actual people, but instead identify them as aspects of myself.  I’ve been restlessly resigned like Murray, and I often imagine myself (and wish for the moment) when I can dismissively exclaim “Evelyn Waugh was a man.”  I read on IMDB that the characters never introduce themselves to each other.  Perhaps that means I’m taking them as Coppola wished me to, as a fleeting aspect of my own person instead of full-fledged people.

            Whatever Coppola intended, she certainly created an atmospheric little film.  It shuffles along, taking in the numerous things Japan has to offer with the confused awe of an outsider.  We stare with the characters as a dinosaur lumbers across a building-sized screen, a women pads along in an elegant dress, and the hotel employees pay an inordinate amount of attention to the American guests.  This film is part travelogue, giving people who haven’t gone to this part of the world a taste for the good and bad it has to offer.

            This lackadaisical pace certainly sets the appropriate mood for its character’s introspective journeys.  If ever a movie captured the feeling of ennui that can set in during travel, it’s Lost in Translation.  The two characters are in very different places in their lives, Murray lamenting the way life has settled and Johansson struggling to get it started.  Their inability to fully grasp these problems is one of the many things that’s lost in translation, yet they’re still able to recognize each other’s troubled boredom.  Striking up a quick friendship, they explore the city and each other, taking the time to really listen and allow each other to formulate their grievances.  You get the sense that they’ve both been waiting for someone to shut up and listen, and it probably took being stuck in a place so immobilizing foreign for them to find the necessary time to give each other.

            Very little exists in this film outside of Murray, Johansson, and Japan, and that’s more than enough to make an affecting film.  Murray and Johansson nail every aspect of their characters and the complicated relationship between them.  I remember being entranced by them when I first saw it, then glancing over to see my Mom with a look on her face I didn’t understand.  Now I know it as a look of deep recognition, that the movie must have reached out and touched some aspect of her I didn’t yet know about.  As I’ve gotten older, Murray and Johansson’s relationship has only deepened to me, but I’m sure I still don’t understand as much about it as my Mom did all those years ago.  I’ll wait twenty more years and get back to you on that.

            My quibbles with this film are few and far between.  I’ve always thought that the airhead actress and Murray’s wife were trite and unrealistic.  There’s two scenes where the literal interpretation of lost in translation is drug out into an off-putting joke, and I find the lounge singer’s hair color vaguely unsettling.  Obviously, none of these are significant turn-offs, and what really knocks the score down a bit is how inconsistent my reaction to this film is.  I find that if I go into it with the wrong mood I’m drastically less affected by it.  I’ve never been able to place exactly why that is, but I do think that truly great films elicit strong reactions after every viewing. 

            That being said, there are times when I go into this film with a sense of discontent and find it revelatory.  It captures how sometimes, when you’re in the right headspace, even the smallest gestures can be enchanting and little moments can wedge themselves permanently into your brain.

            Other Notes: 
Ø  There’s a moment about halfway through the film that’s always stuck out to me.  Murray and Johansson are hanging out on his bed, and as Murray leans forward to set down a bottle he kicks his feet up in the air.  It’s an avoidably awkward motion that shows just how comfortable he is with her, and I always find that moment very endearing.
Ø  This was filmed in a quick 27 days, completely opposite the film’s lackadaisical pace.
Ø  Here’s a good article about the lack of female writers recognized by the Academy:  http://blogs.indiewire.com/womenandhollywood/the-big-o-oscar-needs-to-honor-more-women-with-the-write-stuff-20141113