The English Patient

Released:  December 6^th, 1996

Rated:  R

Distributor:  Miramax

Starring:  Ralph Fiennes, Juliette Binoche, Willem Dafoe, Kristin Scott Thomas, Naveen Andrews, Colin Firth

Directed by:  Anthony Minghella

Written by:  Anthony Minghella

Personal Bias Alert:  not a big romance fan, haven’t read the book

6.5 of 10

            There’s little wonder why Miramax picked up The English Patient when it became available just before filming began.  Founders Bob and Harvey Weinstein know how to set themselves up for success come awards season, and a big, sweeping romance with World War II as a backdrop practically screamed ‘90s Oscar gold.  Epics were in (Schindler’s List, Forrest Gump, and Braveheart took home Best Picture in the preceding years), and romances would win the next two years (Titanic and Miramax’s Shakespeare in Love).  Upping the prestige factor is the book it’s based on, which won the Booker Prize and was considered un-filmable by some.  So when an adaptation with an adequate story and gorgeous visuals rolled into theaters in late 1996, it must’ve seemed irresistible to the Academy.

            Yes, The English Patient walked away with Best Picture at the 69^th Academy Awards, along with eight other categories that night, but time hasn’t been kind to this film’s legacy.  Time wasn’t kind to its characters, either, as many spend the film breaking down inside an already crumbling monastery.  Nurse Hana (Juliette Binoche) has taken refuge there to care for an unknown dying burn patient (Ralph Fiennes).  A series of tragedies have left her convinced that anyone she cares about will be killed, so isolation with her amnesiac ward seems like the safest option.  Soon other military personnel join her, including a Canadian operative named Caravaggio (Willem Dafoe) and a bomb defuser (Naveed Andrews).  Each have been ravaged in their own way by the war and have come to the monastery looking for refuge, which most of them find through new or remembered love.

            The lynchpin for this entire plot is the amnesiac burn patient, who’s slowly unwinding memory proves influential on all their lives.  It’s also this period, told in flashback, that gives the film much of its padding.  It focuses on the over told story of a middle-aged obsessive, someone who’s too single-minded to be very empathetic, which then falls back on melodrama to make us care.  Much could and should have been cut from this section, as these long breaks from the much richer goings-on at the monastery becomes frustrating.

            The novel (which I haven’t read) is allegedly a strong piece, perhaps too strong to fit in a film.  Evaluating it strictly as a film, it felt like writer/director Anthony Minghella focused in on the wrong aspects of the story.  By playing up the romance, there was less time to flesh out the numerous subtleties that seemed to be lurking just underneath the relationships, giving the entire film an air of grandiosity.  The actors did their best to bring these subtleties out, but since the least interesting relationship is the main focus, most simply didn’t have the screen time to make a smooth character arc.  Also, this is a story that easily should’ve been an hour shorter, but a character sits on information that he has no reason to sit on.

            While its epic length may not be deserved, the film certainly delivers an epic scope.  Deserts, minefields, and Italian rubble are all beautifully captured in wide, lush shots that show off a generous budget for a prestige film.  Cinematographer John Seale, whose work you’ll be able to see in the upcoming Mad Max:  Fury Road, shows a good eye for framing, allowing small things to linger in the background or gradually move into view.  So while you’re wading through this slow film, at least there’s something pretty to look at.

            In the end, the various relationships do deliver in a grand, sweeping way that gives The English Patient an old-school, momentous feel.  That’s doesn’t entirely make up for how long it takes to get there, but you won’t leave feeling short-changed.

Other Notes:

Ø  They’re all struggling to find their way in the world, making maps to cover their confusion.

Ø  This is the first digitally edited film to win an Oscar for Best Editing.

Ø  “Yes is a comfort.  Absolutely is not.”

Ø  This doesn’t hold a candle to 1996’s excellent Trainspotting.

The Homesman

Released:  December 14^th, 2014

Rated:  R

Studio:  Roadside Attractions

Starring:  Tommy Lee Jones, Hilary Swank

Directed by:  Tommy Lee Jones

Written by:  Tommy Lee Jones, Kieran Fitzgerald, Wesley A. Oliver

Personal Bias Alert:  haven’t read the book, not a big Tommy Lee Jones fan

6.5 of 10

            The Homesman is the second so-called feminist western I’ve seen this year.  These are rare products, and arguably neither film actually fits into that category.  The other film, TIFF 2014 entry The Keeping Room, is set in rural South Carolina during the waning days of the American civil war.  The isolated farm and the events that take place there feels very much like the lawless west, but alas, South Carolina is not the west.  The Homesman may be disqualified on an even more nitpicky technicality.  Well, two, actually.  First, its stars have pointedly stated that it takes place in the midwest, not the west.  I feel that’s splitting hairs, especially when talking in the 1850s geographical terms the characters would have used, but the larger problem I have with it centers on its alleged feminism.  Now, I’m not going to sit here and argue that this films is anti-women (it’s certainly not), but I would argue that it’s actually commenting on something much larger than sexism.

            The Homesman is largely a two-hander between Hilary Swank’s Mary Bee Cudy and Tommy Lee Jones’ George Briggs, the unlikely duo tasked with escorting three crazy women across the frontier to a mental health facility in Iowa.  The title might more accurately be The Homesmen, or the title might be a tipoff that the film actually focuses on only one of the duo at a time, Cudy for the first two-thirds and Briggs for the ending.

            On the surface, the two characters are a mismatch.  Cudy is a disciplined, godly woman who cuts down the strung-up thief Briggs only because she needs muscle for her noble task.  As the film wears on and shifts focus between the two characters, we come to understand that they are both outsiders driven west by civilization’s utter disuse for them.  This is where I began to question the film’s inherent feminism.  Cudy and the three crazy women’s problems are certainly rooted in feminist issues, but Briggs is driven by problems traditionally inherent to men.  So yes, there’s feminism in there, but it’s secondary thematically to society’s mistreatment of all outsiders, not just women.

            Are you sick of the thematic talk yet?  Then let’s move on to the Oscar buzz surrounding this film.  It’s mostly fallen on Hilary Swank, a two-time winner that’s never received a nomination and not taken home the trophy.  This is most likely due to how well she plays a particular type of person:  the dreamer, a person who wants something difficult to attain and goes for it with a brash enthusiasm that borders on naiveté.  Cudy’s desperation for a husband despite her prickly personality and ‘plain’ looks (only in Hollywood would Swank be considered plain) allows the part to fall comfortably into her sweet spot.  The character isn’t nearly as well-rounded as her other winning roles were, but Swank works what she has to the best of her ability, which makes for a very good performance.  In a weak year for lead actresses, that might be just enough to land her a nomination.

            Before everyone actually saw the film, there was much buzz for director, co-writer, and star Tommy Lee Jones.  By playing such a large part in the making of the film, he would inevitably get lavish praise if it turned out well.  If it turned out as it did, which is just okay, then you could immediately mark him off your ballots in every category, even if only particular portions of his work was sub-par.  His performance is actually quite good, but it’s very Tommy Lee Jones-ish, which won’t get him anywhere in a crowded best actor field.  His directorial effort is pretty good, too.  There’s a stark yet beautiful cinematic style to the film, classically western without being too flashy.  The tone is drearily one-note, but the overarching themes are so bleak that this downfall is partially hidden.  The problems are primarily found in the writing.  The film is a bit loose, too long at the beginning and too fast at the end.  Characters suddenly beginning doing and saying things that don’t feel right, and I can’t help but feel that a pass by a more experienced screenwriter (all three credited writers have very short IMDB lists) could’ve saved the day.

            This is, in essence, a small film about two insignificant people.  Jones never loses track of that, focusing in squarely on these two troubled souls.  The problem is that there’s not many places left for these characters to go, leaving The Homesman as a beautiful, interesting, but somewhat monotonous piece of work.

            Other Notes:

Ø  There were a couple really obvious continuity issues.  Trust me, those things have to pretty much jump off the screen for me to notice.

Ø  Hey Hailee Steinfeld, stop hogging the period piece roles.

Ø  Jesse Plemons!  A Friday Night Lights connection is always a good thing in my book.

Ordinary People

Released:  September 19^th, 1980

Rated:  R

Studio:  Paramount Pictures

Starring:  Donald Sutherland, Mary Tyler Moore, Judd Hirsch, Timothy Hutton

Directed by:  Robert Redford

Written by:  Alvin Sargent

Personal Bias Alert:  haven’t read the book, few preconceived notions about those involved

6.5 of 10

            Let’s go back in time a bit.  It’s 1980, and you’re sitting in a movie theater watching the trailer for an intense family drama.  You think, Donald Sutherland makes sense, but what’s Mary Tyler Moore doing being so shrill?  And who is Timothy Hutton?  And does that say Robert Redford is the director!?  A few months later you’ll watch everyone but Sutherland attending the Oscars, with Hutton and Redford taking home trophies and the film being named Best Picture.

              I think it’s important to recognize just how much uncertainty must have hung over Ordinary People prior to its release.  It covers very difficult material with a first time director and a twenty year old actor making his feature film debut.  Moore and Judd Hirsch would have seemed miscast in their serious roles, leaving Sutherland as the only sure thing.  It doesn’t surprise me, then, to know that people reacted so strongly to such a solid movie.  There’s a lot to admire here, but I’m afraid I found it a bit overrated.

            Like I said, this is one intense family drama, detailing the crumbling of a well-to-do family after a devastating loss.  Sutherland and Moore star as the parents, but it’s Hutton as their teenage son, Conrad, who carries the film.  His depression is the most obvious and perhaps the most stereotypical; Conrad begins the film unable to eat or sleep, stumbling through the events of his days.  The part eventually balloons into something much more complex, and Hutton excels at making Conrad’s assorted triumphs and setbacks feel appropriately scaled.  It really is a wonderful performance, and is arguably the strongest aspect of the film.

            The portrait of the parents, in particular Donald Sutherland’s Calvin, is the other big standout.  Neither are the throwaway sort of parents that often appear in movies about teens.  Each have distinct personality traits and flaws, and their relationship with each other is as much a focus in the film as their relationship to Conrad.  What’s even more interesting is that they subvert the traditional gender roles by having the father be the sensitive one and the mother being more aloof and emotionally detached.  Moore does a good job, but she’s noticeably more one-note than Hutton and Sutherland.  Sutherland brings down the house with a couple late scenes that I wouldn’t change for the world.

            This core trio of characters is superbly written by Alvin Sargent, who was adapting from a novel by the same name.  The other characters aren’t as fleshed out, especially a nasty former friend of Conrad’s and the psychologist played by Hirsch.  I actually got annoyed with how stereotypical these two characters were, especially the psychologist, who I half expected at some point to tell Conrad to lie down and talk about his feelings.  I also found Sargent’s sense of pacing to be off, with a prolonged startup that spent several scenes rehashing character beats that we’d already seen.

            Redford’s direction is also a mixed bag.  He’s got solid fundamentals and is clearly comfortable with the style used in many of the late ‘60s and 70’s character-based films.  The problem is that he lacks a sense of personal style.  There’s no interesting framing or camera moves that could add layers to the story.  It’s mostly basic shot setups, and it makes me wonder if Redford was too uneasy to take any chances this early in his directing career.

            Despite the fact that Redford didn’t exactly impress me, I have to hang my lack of enthusiasm at the feet of screenwriter Alvin Sargent.  There were just a few too many missteps with his screenplay for me to totally get behind Ordinary People, even with performances as great as Hutton and Sutherland.

            Other Notes:

Ø  $50 an hour for a psychologist? Sign me up.

Ø  The future Lady Grantham played the girlfriend in her first feature film role.

Ø  That’s one bold ending.

The Hunger Games: Mockingjay - Part 1

Released:  November 21^st, 2014

Rated:  PG-13

Studio:  Lionsgate

Starring:  Jennifer Lawrence, Josh Hutcherson, Liam Hemsworth, Woody Harrelson, Donald Sutherland, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Julianne Moore, Elizabeth Banks, Sam Claflin, Jeffrey Wright

Directed by:  Francis Lawrence

Written by:  Peter Craig, Danny Strong

Personal Bias Alert:  read and liked the book, highly invested in the series’ themes

8 of 10

            I was expecting people to be disappointed by Mockingjay Part 1.  Whereas Catching Fire can be justly criticized for rehashing the same plot formula as the first film, Mockingjay goes off in an entirely different direction, abandoning many of the staples that made people love the series.  Gone are the flamboyances of the capitol, the looming authoritarianism, and, perhaps most importantly, the feeling of Katniss versus the world.

            Mockingjay finds Panem blossoming into outright revolt, with Katniss (Jennifer Lawrence) being more-or-less used by the revolution’s leaders as the symbol of their movement.  She had always been a pawn to a certain extent, a young woman playing in a world much larger than she could handle, but there had always been a sense of her making choices within that world that led to the revolution.  Now, with the reveal of Cinna’s pre-made clothing plans and Plutarch’s (Philip Seymour Hoffman) dogged insistence that she is the symbol they need, the vail has been pulled back to show how much Katniss had been manipulated and directed in the previous installments.  She’s revealed as just a girl, a hot-head with some archery skills who ended up in the right place at the right time.

            This breakdown of the character’s badassery is bound to be a letdown, especially in the middle of our current ‘chosen one’ wave where seemingly every hero has some preordained gift that allows them and only them to save the world.  What’s great about this change-up, really what’s great about what novel writer Suzanne Collins did, was that she made a revolution occur as it happens in our own world.  No magic, no cheats, just fed up people, some bombs, and lots of propaganda.

            The way in which media is used to sway the masses has been a continuous theme in the series, and it takes center stage in Mockingjay Part 1.  Being that this film only covers the first half of the book, it’s largely setup for what I imagine will be an action-packed Mockingjay Part 2.  To give this film some semblance of structure and, well, a point, writers Danny Strong and Peter Craig mine the books for their shockingly astute and dark portrait of revolutions and the people that make them happen.  They succeed wonderfully, using the extra time to finally let this film series catch its breath and really feel just how bad the world has gotten.

            Director Francis Lawrence earned the right to finish out the series after bringing great improvements to Catching Fire, and if anything he seems to have gotten more comfortable with the material.  I’ve always said that it’d be easy to make a hard R adaptation of these books, but Lionsgate wants a cash cow, so Lawrence’s great challenge is toning down the violence without losing the horror that goes along with it.  In Catching Fire he was able to lighten the tone with jokes about the capitol and the outrageous fellow tributes (especially Johanna).  He doesn’t have to be as concerned about the rating with Mockingjay Part 1 since there’s much less murder going on, and he embraced the opportunity to show the bleakness that permeates the books but was absent in previous films.  The color pallet is reduced to greys and blacks, the lighting is muted, and Katniss’s new home in District 13 is all military starkness.  Given what the series is heading for, this tonal shift is a necessary step.

            The new environment of District 13 means several new actors joined the lineup.  The respect this series has gained shows not only in the large pickups (I’m looking at you Julianne Moore) but in the swell of character actors that fill in the small parts.  Never underestimate the importance of making the small parts work.  A bad performance can grind a movie to a halt, but these people had the skill to step in and keep the whole thing moving smoothly. 

            The addition of Moore as District 13’s President Coin was bound to be a good thing, but it’s made even better when you realize that most of her screen time is spent with Hoffman.  These two have worked together on three previous films, and that familiarity and the sheer skill those two bring makes all their scenes delightful.  Unfortunately, these performance do highlight how uneven the main trio of Jennifer Lawrence, Liam Hemsworth, and Josh Hutcherson is.  I’ve always felt that Lawrence struggles with her big moments in this series, and that trend continues here.  There’s a rousing speech she’s supposed to deliver that just falls flat, especially in contrast to the evolving but effective speeches Moore delivers throughout the film.  Hemsworth finally gets to do something in this one and pulls it off extremely well, with the exception of one scene where he comes off as unnecessarily petulant.  Hutcherson gets sidelined this time around, and I think his performance would have been fine if it wasn’t hampered by some bad makeup.  Overall, the main trio still holds their own, but the rest of the cast certainly outshines them.

            I think people’s reaction to Mockingjay Part 1 is going to reveal more about what they’ve liked about the series than the actual quality of this film.  The Hunger Games has always been a well-made piece of entertainment, and Mockingjay Part 1 is no exception.  But the splitting of the last book meant that Part 1 was bound to be devoid of the intense action people have come to expect from the series, so if you’re not simultaneously invested in the characters and the series larger themes, then this one might put you to sleep.  I, for one, found these smaller moments enthralling.

            Other Notes:

Ø  The score is still a bit much.

Ø  There’s some well-handled callbacks to the previous films without being obnoxious and some decent foreshadowing of events to come.

Ø  Way to identify the building after the computers highlighted and labeled it.

Ø  I’m with Effie; jumpsuits are awful.

Rachel Getting Married

Released:  October 3^rd, 2008

Rated:  R

Studio:  Sony Pictures Classics

Starring:  Anne Hathaway, Rosemarie DeWitt, Bill Irwin, Debra Winger, Anna Deavere Smith, Tunde Adebimpe

Directed by:  Jonathan Demme

Written by:  Jenny Lumet

Personal Bias Alert:  identifies with Rachel, wouldn’t want to attend this wedding

8 of 10

            This isn’t my family.  I’m not from Connecticut money, my father didn’t hobnob with artists, and no one in my family is a psychologist (my psych minor is the closest we’ve got).  In my family, the weddings tend to be small affairs, and my favorite part is usually guessing how much longer we have before the table of chain smoking, oxygen sucking extended relatives blow up the reception.  And yet, I found myself connecting with this family, recognizing little moments of anguish and joy and relishing in the words they gave me to describe my own family grievances.

            Rachel (Rosemarie DeWitt) may get the title and the marriage, but the film is about her hurricane of a sister.  The family’s life, it seems, has been engulfed by Kym (Anne Hathaway) for most of her life.  A nasty drug addiction has caused her to bring nothing but drama and disappointment to their clan, and the mistrust that has instilled is apparent as soon as Kym checks out of rehab for her sister’s wedding.  There’s still love there; Rachel embraces her with a joyous smile as soon as Kym appears and her father’s paternal care is embodied by how often he tries to feed her.  Slowly though, as Kym’s behavior proves to be erratic and inappropriate, their guards come up and old wounds are opened.

            Before this film, I never would have described Hathaway as a natural actress.  I liked her in several things, but I could always feel her effort, could always see the actress behind the character.  That’s what makes her performance in Rachel Getting Married so revelatory.  Watching her is like seeing the kid you’ve been rooting for finally hit that home run.  You knew he had it in him, it just took him a while to get there.  Hathaway finally boldly and loudly stepped into her character’s shoes, and it feels just right.

            Rosemarie DeWitt serves as Hathaway’s co-star, counterpoint, and foil.  For all Kym’s loudness, DeWitt’s Rachel is reserved and solid.  Having played a similar role in my own family, I must admit that I connect to Rachel more, and perhaps because of that mildly prefer DeWitt’s performance to Hathaway’s.  Make no mistake, I think both are excellent (along with Bill Irwin as their father), but DeWitt is the one that gets under my skin.  There’s a large, dramatic scene about halfway through the film in which DeWitt lays bare Rachel’s feelings, and she embodies the way I feel towards my family so completely that she actually helped me to better understand my own emotions.

            I give DeWitt a lot of credit for her performance, but of course none of that would have been possible without writer Jenny Lumet.  This is the only screenplay she’s had produced, and its one hell of an effort.  Aside from Rachel, my favorite part is the way she captures the flow of conversations, how they twist and overlap before veering off abruptly into an entirely different direction.  These are the kinds of weighted conversations you have with people you’ve known your whole life, and Lumet captures it in a way not often seen in films.  The screenplay pulls off so many difficult things such as this, that I can’t imagine it’s the only one Lumet has in her.

            Lumet certainly took risks with her screenplay, as did Jonathan Demme with his direction.  I liked many of the choices he made, like shooting handheld to make you feel like you’re jostling through the wedding with everyone else, but some didn’t work out as well.  He indulges a bit too much in the wedding and other extraneous goings-on, and the film loses momentum because of it.  It reminds me of something Christopher Plummer recalled Collin Farrell saying to him while working with the distractible Terrence Malick:  “Aw, we’re just going to be a couple of Ospreys.  He’ll shoot the Ospreys, not us.”  The problem here is that Rachel Getting Married is a character study, so it’s a detriment when the characters become background to the Ospreys.

            Despite this occasional wandering, Rachel Getting Married remains one of my favorite films.  It feels like a very personal film for Lumet and Demme, but it’s open just enough for others to find themselves in.

Other Notes:

Ø  The public’s afraid of me too, Kym.

Ø  The moment with Kym in the kitchen after the dishwasher scene is one of the most heartbreaking things I’ve seen.

Ø  Can I hug this film?  I want to hug this film.

Beyond the Lights

Released:  November 14^th, 2014

Rated:  PG-13

Studio:  Relativity Media

Starring:  Gugu Mbatha-Raw, Nate Parker, Minnie Driver

Directed by:  Gina Prince-Bythewood         

Written by:  Gina Prince-Bythewood

Personal Bias Alert:  dislikes romances, not familiar with either of the leads

4.5 of 10

            I’ve never been enamored by the music industry.  I’ve had long arguments about how oversexed or just plain weird imagery passes for entertainment, particularly in pop music, and often overshadows those who are writing honest and intelligent pieces.  I consider music the most passionate form of art, the one that most easily forms an emotionally connection to the audience.  The astounding gift of great musicians (some of whom do work in pop) are their ability to combine well-crafted melodies with vague yet emblematic lyrics that a wide swathe of people can personally connect to in a matter of minutes.  That’s why it frustrates me to see so much of the music industry focused on a performer writhing around on stage instead of the smart, sensitive things that can come from their brain.

            Beyond the Lights makes me thing that writer/director Gina Prince-Bythewood shares my point of view.  A major theme of the film is how adversely the hypersexual and inauthentic parts many young female pop artists play affects them personally.  It’s brought to the forefront from the beginning, when an emotionally inert emerging pop star named Noni (Gugu Mbatha-Raw) accepts her first Billboard Music Award in a bondage-esque, barely there outfit and promptly goes back to her hotel room to kill herself.  She is, of course, saved by a strapping and sensitive police officer (Nate Parker), who is rattled by her stoic demeanor immediately following the event.  The pair eventually falls in love, and Parker’s Kaz encourages Noni to make the sort of music she loves.

            At first, I was rather unimpressed by Mbatha-Raw and felt she was being outshined by the likable Parker, only to realize that she was masterfully portraying her character’s arc out of hopeless depression.  Early on, she actually feels like someone without the will to go on, someone stuck in the incessant quagmire of a deep depression that has deprived her of nearly all other emotions.  As Noni’s relationship with Kaz forces her to confront her problems and her long-buried ambitions, Mbatha-Raw gets to come out and play a full part.  A late scene allows her to show off how emotive she and good music can be in a powerful and effective culmination of both the character and the main theme’s arcs.

            The film features a scathing look at the music industry, pegging it as exploitative and insensitive to its young female stars.  Now I already thought that this sort of thing happened, but I was surprised to find that they were able to get across this message without exaggerating the film’s music videos, onstage performances, or photo shoots.  All look remarkable normal compared to their real-life counterparts, and that authenticity is perhaps the most damning pieces of evidence that the film presents.  Feel free to take a look for yourself; the video that was made for the film is on YouTube at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pP7gLPRDojg.

            For all these excellent pieces, Beyond the Lights staggers under a poorly constructed script.  While its themes and characters are strong, it tries to present them under the guise of a by-the-numbers romance, and the numbers couldn’t have been triter.  It was always painfully obvious what the next beat was going to be, sucking any suspense and narrative tension straight out of the film.  They try to pull some fast ones on you, but most are so poorly constructed, especially a late ‘who could be at the doorbell?’ moment, that they come across more as annoyances than surprises.

            The only mystery to the film is how it can simultaneously move through its beats so quickly while feeling so painfully long.  The big suicide attempt occurs in the first few scenes, and the romance starts jarringly fast.  After that, the film becomes mired in subplots that keep things moving but don’t always go anywhere.  With their outcomes predetermined, the sidetracking is both unnecessary and uninteresting, overly complicating a story that could have been effective if it had narrowed its scope a bit.

            There’s a lot to admire in Beyond the Lights, but it overstayed its welcome and had me tapping my feet in anticipation of leaving.  That’s disappointing, especially when you look back and realize how well it commented on the darker side of young pop stars’ lives.

Other Notes:

Ø  It’s really depressing that Prince-Bythewood had to fight to have this movie star two people of color.

Ø  The song that got me most excited was the cover of The xx’s Shelter.  That probably says a lot about my musical taste.

Ø  The cover story might have been a lie, but I’m willing to bet that alcohol, a balcony, and 5 inch stilettos really don’t mix well.

The Wild and Wonderful Whites of West Virginia

Released:  May 5^th, 2010

Rated:  Unrated

Studio:  Tribeca Film

Starring:  Jesco White, Mamie White, Sue Bob White, Kirk White

Directed by:  Julien Nitzberg              

Personal Bias Alert:  vaguely familiar with the setting, likes docs to be cleanly edited

5 of 10

            There’s a bridge near my grandparent’s house with concrete walls and a tight turn in the middle.  My dad crashed a car into that concrete, and at the opening our family name is spray painted bright and clear.  My father’s generation put it there, but mine’s clearly been maintaining it.  Everyone on that side of my family live within a 20 mile radius of that bridge.  My grandfather worked in a shirt factory that’s since shut down, and my uncles and most of my cousins work construction.  Many people would look at them and think they were from similar ilk as the Wild and Wonderful Whites, and to a certain extent that’s true.  There’s a shared fatalism that comes from dead-end environments, but then again, my family copes with it much better than the Whites.

            In families like this, there always seems to be one who gets out.  The Whites have Poney, who escaped to Minnesota, and my family has my Dad.  He worked in the shirt factory long enough to buy a motorcycle and put himself through college, where he met my mom and permanently moved from the country to the suburbs.  Hence, I grew up in a totally different environment than that side of my family, but I’m still familiar enough with the lifestyle to be comfortable in it.  I doubt many people who sit down to review this obscure little documentary can come at it from a place of familiarity.

            Most of the White family lives in West Virginia, the heart of Appalachia, and they adhere to many of the coarse stereotypes that come with that region.  If they’re not hustling for money (none of them have jobs) then they’re drinking, drugging, and fighting.  It’s the glorious lifestyle of the outlaw, to live fast, die young, and have a good time doing it.  Stories of the dark side of these choices have been told ad nauseum, and The Wild and Wonderful Whites of West Virginia follows the familiar pattern of setting up the boisterous bravado before peeling back to show the sad reality of the life.

            Director Julien Nitzberg previously worked with the family on a PBS documentary about Jesco called The Dancing Outlaw.  You see, the Whites have one positive legacy:  an extreme talent for mountain dancing.  It originated with Jesco’s father, D. Ray, but it hasn’t been enough to pull any of the family out of their stagnant situations.  In fact, the pressure of local fame seems to have made life harder for Jesco, and the entire family suffers from a sense of entitlement. 

At the same time, the White’s lives are filled with the bad breaks that accompany a questionable lifestyle.  Nitzberg and his team followed the Whites for a year, and even they were surprised by how many jarring events they were able to film.  The funny thing is, the Whites readily acknowledge how rough their lives are.  They’re smart people without an ounce of delusion.  They know who they are and the situation that they’re in, and that’s a large part of what’s driven them to take every escape route possible.  This would be easy to overlook, but Nitzberg recognized it and smartly allows this interesting character twist to shine through.

While Nitzberg understands the Whites well, he isn’t as gifted at constructing a film.  He plays his cards too early, revealing from the beginning the sad turns that continuously haunt the family.  It leaves the film with nowhere to go, dragging itself over the same note for its entire runtime.  The film’s only 88 minutes long, but after watching it I could have sworn it was over 2 hours. 

The other problem is that the Whites never seem that fun.  This partially stems from Nitzberg going to the sad stuff too early, but I think it’s due even more to movie’s focus.  It predominantly follows the older Whites, whose voices and bodies are worn from abuse.  It makes the consequences of their lifestyle inescapable; nobody wants to end up like them, no matter how much fun it is to get there.

            To cap it off, there’s some clunky edits and obviously constructed shots.  I have no doubt that the Whites were being exactly who they are, and there’s certainly something fascinating about them, but Nitzberg failed to deliver an interesting story or even a well-made film for them to inhabit.

            Other Notes:

Ø  I really liked the opening credit sequence.  It’s a great song choice.

Ø  Poor grandma.  No one seems to know what she did to deserve those kids.

Ø  “The night I stabbed him was cool.” 

Ø  This film has a very clunky title.

Interstellar

Released:  November 7^th, 2014

Rated:  PG-13

Studio:  Paramount Pictures

Starring:  Matthew McConaughey, Anne Hathaway, Jessica Chastain, Michael Caine

Directed by:  Christopher Nolan         

Written by:  Jonathan Nolan, Christopher Nolan

Personal Bias Alert:  likes the Nolan brothers, not a big McConaughey fan

7 of 10

            I tried to avoid hearing about Interstellar, but with the amount of times I go to theaters, seeing the trailer was almost inevitable.  Watching it took me on a bad roller coaster ride, with the good (an intriguing Michael Caine voiceover, excellent visuals, and the ever-steady Jessica Chastain) alternating with the bad (an overwritten line and references to the vague but mighty power of love), causing emotional whiplash between excitement and apprehension.  Still, I showed up for the first possible screening, an IMAX 70mm showing at 8pm Tuesday.  This is Nolan, after all, a director with a proven track record of making intelligent entertainment pieces.

            It would be easy to go on and on about what Interstellar isn’t.  It isn’t a perfect blend of smarts and spectacle.  It isn’t Nolan’s masterpiece.  It isn’t enough to carry him to Oscar glory.  But framing a review like that misses everything that Interstellar is:  an ambitious, messy, and at times wonderful piece of work.

            Matthew McConaughey stars as a single father recruited by NASA to pilot a small expedition that must travel through a wormhole and skirt the edges of black holes to save humanity.  You see, Earth is no longer able to support human life, so a new, hospitable planet must be found in a hurry.  McConaughey’s Coop is reticent to leave his children, a plot point that feels natural thanks to the time the Nolan brothers take to establish the family’s relationships at the beginning of the film.  Too often this sort of plot point is taken for granted, and the audience is expected to accept the parent’s tormented when we’ve only seen the entire family together for one or two scenes.  It’s not that we’re monsters; we understand intellectually the bond between parents and children, but it’s much more resonant if we’re allowed to see that bond play out.

            This early portion of the film also allows us to see just how bad it’s gotten on Earth.  I’ve long considered the American dust bowl the most terrifying time I’ve ever heard of, and Interstellar is clearly lifting from this time period’s problems.  There’s crop failure, dust storms, and economic hardships.  It’s the dust storm that give us the film’s first grand visual, and it’s truly a wonder to behold.  This and later sequences of space and foreign planets are high points of the film, impeccable to look at and lingered on just long enough to instill a sense of wonder.  If the film could have maintained the early part’s balance between story, character, and spectacle, this could have gone down as Nolan’s masterpiece.

            But Coop and company must leave Earth, after which the nuts and bolts of complex space travel and Nolan’s insistence on big action sequences take over.  Not enough time is dedicated to characters or emotional arcs, and these aspects remain largely stagnant until the very end of the film.  It’s really a failure of setup.  Only four people go on the mission:  the fully realized Coop, the erratic and hyperbolic Brand (Anne Hathaway), and two other men who have no character traits I can remember.  Sticking your main character in a situation like that leaves little room for meaningful interactions and leads to the stagnation and eventual regression of character that Coop undergoes.

            Then you get the failure of the actual story.  I won’t get into spoilery details, so let’s just say that it doesn’t make sense.  There’s a troublesome ontological paradox (look it up) and an ending that unsuccessfully tries to land the emotional arcs that the film had dropped during its long middle section.  There’s few ways to leave the audience less satisfied than to muck up the ending both intellectually and emotionally.

            Even with a bad ending and a lackluster middle section, there’s more than enough here to make this a good movie.   That early portion is almost flawless, and the spectacle of experiencing the film in theaters shouldn’t be missed.  The bar for this film was simply set too high by audiences and the Nolan brothers alike.  They bit off more than they could chew, and we saw the potential for what this could be and expected them to pull it off.  Interstellar is a lesser film than we all wanted it to be, but that doesn’t necessarily mean it’s bad.

            Other Notes:

Ø  This is paced very much like other Nolan films.  There’s the steadily building tension interspersed with big action sequences, but it lacks a true climax.

Ø  Once characters start talking about love transcending time and space, I check out.

Ø  McConaughey feels like a Coop.

Kramer vs. Kramer

Released:  December 19^th, 1979

Rated:  PG

Studio:  Columbia Pictures

Starring:  Dustin Hoffman, Meryl Streep, Jane Alexander, Justin Henry

Directed by:  Robert Benton              

Written by:  Robert Benton

Personal Bias Alert:  raised by a stay-at-home dad, finds emotional honesty riveting

8.5 of 10

            I’ve discussed before how difficult it is for ‘issue’ films to age well.  They often seem stuck in their time, commenting on aspects of society that no longer exist.  Watching it, you can appreciate the message its sending, but the shock and outrage is missing.  If the film isn’t about more than its central issue then it becomes doomed to fade away after society comes to its senses.  But if, like Kramer vs. Kramer, it takes a larger, honest look at the story at hand, then it can retain its emotional resonance throughout time.

            Starring Dustin Hoffman and Meryl Streep, Kramer vs. Kramer is about the ever-changing way we define family.  Specifically, this story takes on the traditional gender roles of parents after Streep’s Joanna divorces Hoffman’s Ted and leaves him with their young son.  Ted had been a workaholic, comfortable with leaving Joanna to take care of the household and the emotional needs of their child.  After her abrupt exit, Ted has to learn how to be more than just a breadwinner, or as Ted tells his son “I’ve got to bring home the bacon and cook it, too.”

            Now I grew up with a stay-at-home dad, so I’m used to seeing a man cook, clean, and shuttle the kids to their various activities.  This was still unusual at the time.  My dad has told me that there were no changing stations in men’s rooms when my brother and I were younger, so he had to ‘improvise.’  I never asked what exactly that meant, because I recognize that it’s probably one of those things best left unknown.  Anyway, what this means is that I’ve always known that fathers can be emotionally supportive and interested in their kids, and conversely that mothers can be intelligent and career-driven.  This is the essential message of Kramer vs. Kramer, and even if it’s outdated, it’s still a decent reminder as we battle more general gender stereotypes.

            Streep’s good in this, earning her first Oscar for the role, but she’s gone for long periods of time, leaving the audience predominately with Hoffman and Justin Henry, who played the couple’s son.  These two are extraordinary, nailing the many scenes between them and giving this film an honest core.  Hoffman, obviously, had been working for quite some time, but Henry was a first-timer, and a dreaded child actor at that.  To leave so much of the movie up to them, to leave each of their skills so bare to the camera, was a gutsy move by writer/director Robert Benton.  Luckily for him and all of us, both men stepped up to the plate.

            Because of these excellent performances and the excellent writing by Benton, Kramer vs. Kramer tackles not only the then-relevant issue of divorce, but also examines the way families and individuals respond to change.  Ted must learn how to balance work and life, and each must adjust their daily routines to their new post-Joanna world.  As with everything, this comes with some good and some bad, but what shines through is the father and son’s growing attachment to each other.  Being that they’re both men, they bond in some untraditional ways, and I love that the film uses little moments like how they share the bathroom in the morning to establish their bond.  It’s these more universal and timeless touches that allow the film to survive the years and will keep it relevant for generations to come.

            The other big thing that Kramer vs. Kramer has going for it is its brutal honesty.  Characters get hot under the collar and yell things they don’t mean, or things they do mean but are difficult to say.  A lot of time passes in this film, so you get to see the different emotional stages of the three family members and how they act in each one.  Sometimes they rise gloriously to the occasion, while other times they trip up and fall flat on their face.  Such is life, and these moments feel honest for each character.

            This truly is a wonderful movie, but it will lose steam for modern audiences when the divorce issue becomes more prevalent in its later portions.  Some of the statements that were grand and envelope-pushing at the time immediately dates it, placing it firmly in a world that some younger folks (including myself) weren’t alive for.  But there’s plenty of timeless stuff to overshadow these moments, and I walked away thinking about my own family, imperfect but loving, just like the Kramers.

            Other Notes:

Ø  That is a great scene between Ted and his neighbor in the park.

Ø  Joanna strikes some dramatic poses when she stalks people.

Ø  Is that a Tab sponsorship I see?

Ø  Ted’s pants were terrible.