3 Recent Screenings

Alive Inside

Alive Inside is a documentary about Dan Cohen, a nursing home volunteer who discovered exposing seniors with dementia to the music of their youth can relight their memories and personalities.

Here’s the deal:  when we’re growing and our brains are still in supersponge mode (a period that lasts roughly from birth through our mid-20s), the music of our youth gets encoded deep in our brains – way back near the stem.  If dementia sets in, that’s the last part to go.  Thus, it’s possible to light up the brain once more by triggering those musical memories.

This isn’t to imply that iPods cure dementia.  It appeared that patients slipped back into their hazes some time after the music stopped.  Nevertheless, while the music played, these people were themselves again in a fundamental way.

That’s a thing of beauty.

Fury

Fury is a by-the-numbers WWII picture, just like they used to make.  Brad Pitt is the grizzled, fatherly first sergeant.  Jon Bernthal is the hick; Shia LeBeouf the preacher; Michael Peña the alcoholic, and Logan Lerman the New Guy.

They hit many of the same beats as the dogfaces from the great Lee Marvin film The Big Red One, and the film doesn’t have much to offer in the way of surprises.  But if you like war movies, you’re sure to like this one.  It touches all the bases.

Hot Tub Time Machine 2

Rude, crude, and mildly amusing, Hot Tub Time Machine 2 is the perfect movie to fold laundry by.

12 Years a Slave

12 Years a Slave is a great movie.  I never want to see it again.

This harrowing film, based on the memoirs of escaped slave Solomon Northup, brings to life the cruelty and inhumanity of the antebellum South through a faithful recreation of Northup’s luring away from his New York home, subsequent enslavement, and eventual repatriation to the land of the free.

The recreation is served by the production designer’s careful attention to detail, scarring performances on the part of the cast, and careful direction and photography that highlight the jarring cruelty of slavery by showing just how routine that cruelty had become.

The production design is immaculate.  From period construction equipment to architecture to clothing, 12 Years a Slave is better than a museum: it doesn’t just show us where people lived and what they used and wore; it shows us how they lived there, how they used the materials to hand, how the clothes they wore actually looked in motion.

The cast, well, it’s remarkable. Lupita Nyong'o as a fellow slave trying to maintain some humanity provides an unforgettable performance.  Benedict Cumberbatch and Michael Fassbender, as slaveholders of variable degrees of humanity, provide contrasting images of the corruption of absolute power.  Paul Dano, as a foreman who, though below Cumberbatch and Fassbender on the social ladder, absolutely assumes his God-given superiority over the slaves under his dominion, creates a character of both weakness and power – a difficult, but important, station to portray. The anchor, as he is for so many films, is the great Chiwetel Ejiofor, who Can Do No Wrong.  His intelligence, his humanity, his fear, and his desperation provide both a hero for the film and an audience identification character.  From Dirty Pretty Things to Kinky Boots and now to 12 Years a Slave, Ejiofor is putting together a filmography that’s marking him as one of the most compelling actors working today.

Of course, without the right director and photographer, all this hard work would come to naught.  Director Steve McQueen and DP Sean Bobbitt, however, are up to the task.  Watching their film, one can almost feel the heat and humidity of the Louisiana Bayou.  One can almost smell the stench of a slave quarters.  Most importantly, one can understand how life goes on even as men and women are captured, tortured, raped, murdered, and buried in shallow graves time and again, year after year.

And of course, this is all part of our American heritage, as much a part of the fabric of our country as the rockets’ red glare or the New Deal.  It’s a part of our heritage we know about, but kind of gloss over because it’s so painful to contemplate.  That pain is why I don’t want to see 12 Years a Slave again, though I’m glad I saw it once.  Do not miss 12 Years a Slave.

Recently Seen - 4JUL13

I expect to return to writing more thorough reviews when I go back to the airline in the spring.  'Til then, here's another brief rundown of what I've been watching.

Iron Man 3

Much better than the series' second installment, Iron Man 3 features clever dialogue and unexpectedly wonderful turn by Ben Kingsley, whom I thought was taking an easy paycheck until I actually saw the film.

Lockout

Guy Pearce as Kurt Russell in Escape from Space.  That's actually pretty high praise.

Life of Pi

The best movie I've seen in some time, Life of Pi manages not only to film an unfilmable novel, but to create something magical of its own.  I wish I'd seen this one on the big screen in 3D.

Hour of the Gun

A fine telling of the Wyatt Earp Story.  Picking up moments before the gunfight at the OK Corral, it offers James Garner and Jason Robards as as fine a Wyatt & Doc as you'll ever see.

Jazz on a Summer's Day

I live in Newport.  I love jazz.  I fell asleep during this film.

World War Z

Despite a few extraordinary sequences, this film suffers from inexplicably slow pacing.  Recommended only for zombie completists.

The Visitor

A fine, carefully crafted film featuring a remarkable performance from star Richard Jenkins.  Well worth your time.

Moneyball

When I heard that Moneyball was in production, I thought it would fail.  How do you take a book about statistical analysis and turn it into a narrative film?

Moneyball succeeds by changing focus from the book.  The book, as I said, is about statistical analysis and uses one team’s experiment with it to educate the reader.  The movie is about Billy Beane, the manager of said team, his journey, and how his grasp of the potential of statistical analysis changed his sport, his team, and his life.

Brad Pitt plays Beane as smart and savvy, yet insecure.  He’s a baseball guy, but he’s so totally a product of his lifelong immersion in the sport that he’s a baseball guy only.  When he spots an influential whiz kid (Jonah Hill) in an opposing manager’s office, he understands the value of a completely different perspective.  It’s a perspective so different that betting on it could cost him his career.  There’s your drama.  There’s your movie. 

Now, I like baseball.  I go to several games per year, I follow the Nationals in the Post, and believe that Marconi invented radio specifically to give the world the magic that is Vin Scully.  But you don’t have to like baseball to like this movie.  You have to like scrappy underdogs, you have to like things that don’t go boom, and you have to like Brad Pitt.  I like all three, and I like this picture.  I want to see it again as soon as I can.  

The Tree of Life

The Tree of Life made me glad I sprang for an enormous tv and a good stereo.  I can’t imagine seeing this film on a computer screen.  This film trades on awe, and awe requires big picture and big sound.  I think the studio will put this back in theaters for awards season.  If you don’t have an enormous tv and a good stereo, take advantage of the theater’s setup and see this film properly.

Sean Penn’s a successful architect in his early 50s.  It’s his deceased brother’s birthday.  He goes about his day, but he’s lost in thought, reflecting on his childhood, his brother, his family, and life.  That’s it – that’s the whole story.

But it’s powerful and it’s beautiful and it’s absolutely effective, and it’s so because director Terence Malick captures the perspective of childhood as seen through the lens of recollection.  He uses vignettes and camera angles and selective audio to approximate how children see and adults remember.  He weaves it with a meditation on life, and the meaning of life, that put me in a profound, meditative state and took me on its journey.

I didn’t cry during   The Tree of Life.  I didn’t laugh.  Nothing blew up.  But this film moved me, its marriage of music and imagery touched me, and the experience felt like the most profound time I’ve had at the movies since Woman in the Dunes.

See this film.  Soak it in.  When you do, go large.

Megamind

Megamind is laugh-out-loud funny.

Here in the second paragraph, I usually describe the movie’s first act to give you a taste of what you’re in for.  You don’t the need that for Megamind.  Just know that it’s a cartoon about supervillain who’s not such a bad guy, once you get to know him.

This film looks great, with bright and colorful animation.  The story’s simple enough for toddlers, yet smart enough for parents.  The comedy balances slapstick and character-based humor to give everyone something to laugh at.  And the action sequences, well, they’re fantastic. 

I watched Megamind with my family (ages 2 - 43), and we all enjoyed it.  We laughed out loud, we got swept up in the characters, and we look forward to seeing it again.  Megamind is a winner.

Inglourious Basterds

Lots of people love INGLOURIOUS BASTERDS. They say that it’s one of Tarantino’s best films. They say it’s one of the best movies of the year.

It’s the first Tarantino film to really bother me.

The inconsistent tone, bouncing between excruciating suspense and neo-‘70s hip, kept me from settling into its groove. The performances, particularly Pitt’s painfully false Appalachian accent, Christoph Waltz’s affected silliness, and Eli Roth’s jarring presence, never felt organic. And most importantly, Tarantino’s imagining of a unit of Ike’s Army as being more despicable than Al Qaeda in Iraq, coupled with his invitation to root for this unit’s tactics as though being “on our side” made them excusable, felt like a betrayal of the American ideal. I got the feeling that Dick Cheney would have loved this movie.

The International Red Cross, the Geneva Conventions, the Law of Armed Conflict, they all exist for good reasons. They exist because of the all too human tendency to see outrages committed by “Team Us” as permissible and even commendable, particularly because “Team Them” has it coming. The reality, of course, is that combatants aren’t masterminds. Often, they’re just guys who got drafted, or who thought that signing up would be a good idea, or who were faced with the choice of putting on a uniform and maybe getting shot or refusing to wear one and definitely getting shot. INGLOURIOUS BASTERDSes ignorance of or contempt for these laws and traditions, its glorification of brutality, was just too much for me to stomach.

Now, there are some great things about this movie. Tarantino crafts an image with smoke and light that may be one of the great shots of movie history. There’s some wonderful misdirection and a refreshing willingness to defy some rules of storytelling economy.

But I just couldn’t get past the film’s ideology. It felt deeply, profoundly wrong. It felt un-American. It really bothered me.

Burn After Reading

BURN AFTER READING is a comedy with two funny lines. J.K. Simmons gets both of them. And he's only in the movie for ten minutes, tops.

The film, a misanthropic screwball comedy, is so heavy on misanthropy and so light on comedy that I spent more time marveling at the train wrecks piling before me than sustaining any kind of comic mood. Its as if everyone involved was told they were making a tragedy, with the exception of Simmons and his minion David (Sledge Hammer!) Rasche.

Many folks liked this picture, but I don't get it. How can you laugh when you're busy feeling bad for everyone onscreen?

The Assassination of Jessie James by the Coward Robert Ford

THE ASSASSINATION OF JESSIE JAMES BY THE COWARD ROBERT FORD ("ASSASSINATION," hereafter), is what you get when you put the director of photography in charge of editing. Here's a movie filled with beautiful images that linger, linger, and finally overstay their welcome. ASSASSINATION is an interesting movie. It's a beautiful movie. It could have been a great movie if it had just moved the heck along.

Casey Affleck plays Robert Ford, a man who gives Frank James the creeps just by being around, and who creeps him more the more he is around. Unfortunately, he creeps us out, too, making the seventeen hours the movie spends with the guy remarkably uncomfortable. Robert is, um, fond of Jessie in a creepily warped hero worship / deeply closeted homosexual kind of way. But Robert makes the ultimate mistake for a hero worshipper: he gets too close to the object of his admiration and learns that his hero is just a man, after all.

In the case of Brad Pitt's Jessie James, his hero isn't just a man, but an increasingly unstable psychotic who represents a danger to himself and everyone around him. Hell, by the time Ford takes his shot, it's a no-brainer. And in the moral world of the James gang, a world in which shooting a man in the back is just another day at the office, it makes perfect sense. And that works, and Pitt and Affleck are both quite good (as is the underappreciated Sam Rockwell as Robert's older brother Charley), and everything's fine, but the movie is just so damn slow.

This is a picture whose sunsets seem like they're in real time. Caterpillars mature into butterflies faster than ASSASSINATION moves along. Everything is so stately, so operatic, and for what? The murder of some other murderer? Maybe you have "get" the romance of the James Gang to "get" this movie, but all I saw was a bunch of thugs being led by a charismatic thug who eventually got what was coming to him.

No, thanks.

Ocean's 13

OCEAN’S 13 is like bubblegum. It’s unpretentious, it’s essentially kid stuff, and it’s fun. What more do you need?

Here’s the setup: George Clooney and his gang go after yet another Vegas Casino. How these guys’ faces aren’t on every wanted poster in the city is beyond me, but there you have it. And really, that’s all you need to know. Their motivation is irrelevant.

What really matters here is the film’s style, and OCEAN’S 13 has style to spare. The locations are fabulous, the wardrobe is fabulous, and the dialogue is just plain fun. C’mon – it even has Eddie Izzard in a small yet crucial role. And if Eddie Izzard isn’t enough to get you queue up a movie, well, why do you even bother?

Ellen Barkin and Al Pacino both model the latest in age-defying technologies, everyone appears to be having a good time, the heist is sufficiently intricate, and I enjoyed the heck out of OCEAN’S 13. What more could a guy ask for?

Babel

THE TRANSPORTER 2 is a better moviegoing experience than BABEL.

BABEL teaches us that guns are bad: look for a young Moroccan boy destroying a gun in a climactic fit of fury, sadness, and despair. THE TRANSPORTER 2 teaches us that guns are for losers: real men use car-fu, firehose fu, bead curtain fu, sword fu, lead pipe fu, axe fu, coconut fu, boat fu, and Gulfstream IV fu, just to name a, er, few. BABEL features heartbreaking turns from a brilliant cast featuring Cate Blanchett, Gael Garcia Bernal, and some cat from SNATCH. THE TRANSPORTER 2 features evil foreigners, anorexic models, and some cat from SNATCH kicking people in the face. BABEL features a girl in a schoolgirl outfit flashing her Britney at random Japanese schoolboys. THE TRANSPORTER 2 featurs a girl in a schoolgirl outfit who jacks cars with a gang of cartoonish thugs. And speaking of girls, all BABEL can give us is a clothing-challenged girl weeping on her father's shoulder, while THE TRANSPORTER 2 delivers a clothing-challenged girl in heavy mascara wielding dual automatic weapons and laying down the aforementioned bead curtain fu.

All kidding aside, BABEL is two hours of the anticipation of horror, horror, and despair. Its painfulness is outweighed only by its heavyhandedness, with self-absorbed first-worlders weighed against salt-of-the-earth second-worlders. Not only did I feel that this film was trying to manipulate me into a decidedly unpleasant emotional place, but I thought that it was doing so dishonestly. And really, enough of these "hyperlink films." I liked SHORT CUTS as much as the next guy, but there's no joy in discovering the connections the film lays out before us. Just tell me a story, goshdarnit. Entertain me. Teach and enlighten me if you can, but don't preach at me. And if you can manage it, try and mix in a little cocounut fu. Coconut fu does wonders for any film.

Sinbad: Legend of the Seven Seas

I am not the target audience for SINBAD: LEGEND OF THE SEVEN SEAS. I've read _1001 Arabian Nights_. I've been to Syracuse. I'm familiar with Greek mythology. And I like Harryhausen movies.

I couldn't get on board with this movie, primarily because its Sinbad has so little in common with every other version of the character with which I'm familiar. There were more hangups, of course: its maguffin wasn't compelling, its geography was sketchy, and its creation of a fantasy world didn't jibe with the names it gave elements of that world. Why even call your protagonist Sinbad when he bears no resemblance to the Sinbad of legend? Why call your city Syracuse if it isn't going to look anything remotely like Syracuse? Why establish a round world in the film's very first scene, only to make a flat world a major plot point near the end? The list of nits I picked is practically endless, and they conspired to keep me from getting involved in the picture. The only bright spot in the whole production, in fact, is Michelle Pfeiffer's voice work as Eris, goddess of chaos: it's dangerous, seductive, and loads of fun. She isn't enough to keep the production afloat, however. Someone should've scuttled SINBAD back in the story development phase.

PS My wife enjoyed the artwork and our boy absolutely loved it, so your mileage may vary.

Snatch; National Treasure

Hyperkinetic and fun, 'Snatch' tells the intertwining stories of midlevel thug, an unlicensed boxing promoter, a pawnbroker with a lousy mind for crime, some diamond thieves, and one unintelligible gypsy.

It's cheeky, it's unpredictable, and it's great, anarchic fun. I liked it. I didn't love it, but I liked it.

'National Treasure' is pretty much everything you want in a big-budget action movie. It has lots o' 'splosions, plenty of gunfire, a pretty girl, a car chase, and Nic Cage even swings like Tarzan at one point. It could've used some pirates and some ninjas, but I won't had that against it. 'National Treasure' is also fun, and just the thing for sitting around with your buddies, a pizza, and some beer.

I do, however, have two problems with 'National Treasure': first, I'm tired of seeing Sean Bean play the villain. I mean, I'm happy that this guy's getting work and paying his mortgage, but this is the "Sharp's Rifles" guy, for pete's sake! Somebody cast him in a hero role, already! Second, 'National Treasure' takes a a 'Quiz Show' approach to history. It thinks of history as a collection of interesting trivia, not a dramatic interplay of ideas, spread out over generations. Any history is good history, I suppose, but I'll take the slow development of the Human Race over factoids about who cast the Liberty Bell any time.

Ocean's 12

I'm trying to decide whether OCEAN'S 12 is an ironic commentary on
itself and sequels in general or just a tired rehash of a
once-interesting premise.

In the film, Danny Ocean and his crew are brought back because, well
because they have to. It's a money thing. This time around, they're
expected to do their thing, but to do it bigger, better, and faster.
To succeed, they need ever-more elaborate plots, a kaleidescope of
obstacles real and imagined, and surprises behind surprises behind
surprises. While they're first job was fun, however, this one is a
joyless exercise in obligation, performance for performance's sake.
In other words, it's a sequel.