Showing posts with label Paul Dano. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Paul Dano. Show all posts

Tuesday, October 06, 2015

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.

Friday, July 11, 2008

There Will Be Blood


Ahh, summertime. For normal people, it's a season of giant Hollywood blockbusters. For those of us who see most of our movies at home, it's time for last Christmas's prestige pictures.

A short time ago, I wrote of the prestige picture, "The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford," that it went on far too long; that it was too meditative; that it seemed the DP edited the thing. "There Will Be Blood" is roughly the same length as "Assassination," and it, too, loves the long shot, the meditative moment. But there's a difference. "There Will Be Blood" is absolutely riveting, with commanding performances by Daniel Day-Lewis and Paul Dano, as well as strong supporting work by Ciarán Hinds and the young Dillon Freaser.

I've been aware of Day-Lewis since "My Beautiful Laundrette," and I became an outright fan with "The Age of Innocence." This, I was a little wary of his Daniel Plainview here. Was I watching a genuinely great performance, or was I merely bringing my predisposition to respect Day-Lewis's work to a pedestrian portrayal. This is where Paul Dano comes in. Looking over his filmography, I realize I've seen Dano before. But I never really noticed him, never bothered to remember his name, until now. Dano gives a performance that brings to mind Edward Norton in "Primal Fear," a commanding evocation of a young man who is part prophet, part hustler, and all calculation. Compared to Dano, Day-Lewis does, indeed, give a great performance. It's broad at times, close at others, but always commanding, always fascinating. There's so much going on behind those eyes that I was more than happy to spend two and a half hours trying to figure it out.

Of course, a major film such as this is about more than actors on a stage. Paul Thomas Anderson, who matured with "Punch-Drunk Love," directs a film that makes the Southwest of the late 19th and early 20th Century come alive. I read somewhere that he shot in West Texas, and he makes that country look as rough and deadly as it ever has, even if there are no Apache about. He made an interesting choice in Johnny Greenwood, the Radiohead musician and composer, who eschews
the standard orchestral score for disturbing, postmodernist music that keeps us in the film without ostentatiously highlighting its beats.

"There Will Be Blood" reminds me that there are no short movies or long movies. There are only poor movies and good movies. This is a very, very good movie. I could easily view it again, and I'm sure the time would race right by.

Thursday, December 21, 2006

Little Miss Sunshine

We meat Greg Kinnear's character early in LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE. He's
giving a motivational speech to an offscreen group and, while the
subject matter is a bit thin, he's swinging away. Since I do a fair
bit of public speaking, I immediately identified with him.

Maybe that's why I found LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE to be so hard to watch.
The movie spends its running time punching Kinnnear's character, a
father trying to put a hopeful face on hard times, directly in the
nose so many times that he eventually gives up and gives in. Movie
people call that kind of behavior "letting go" and seem to think it a
good idea. I just found it sad.

I found nearly the entire movie sad, so much so that I don't know why
people think of LITTLE MISS SUNSHINE as a comedy. It's a movie about
flawed people enduring trying situations and relationships, and it
makes us feel more sad than entertained.