With the highly lauded release of the latest iteration in Michael Apted's "Up" series, 49 UP, generating attention around the world, I figured it was time that I invested some hours into this remarkable project.
SEVEN UP and 7 PLUS SEVEN represent the first two editions in the documentary series that revisits a group of British kids at regular intervals and monitors their progress. These first two documentary films were not, sadly, particularly interesting. (This just in: bright-eyed children often turn into sullen adolescents.) While watching them, I felt like I was laying the groundwork for the good things that are heralded to come: kind of like plowing through the first several chapters of a Victorian novel in the knowledge that things will speed up and come together as the story goes on.
So ... not an auspicious beginning to the series, but I have high hopes. We'll see what 21 UP has to tell us.
Thursday, March 01, 2007
Narc
Joe Carnahan's NARC is a very well acted, rather overdirected, and ultimately satisfying procedural.
In NARC, Jason Patric returns to a character that seems right out of his criminally underappreciated RUSH. Det. Sgt. Nick Tellis is a cop in rough shape. He used to be an undercover narcotics officer, but he accidentally hit a pregnant woman in a gunfight and he's barely hanging on the paycheck from his administrative leave. Oh, and he may have been a drug addict, to boot. Tellis is given a chance to return to active duty to solve the murder of another undercover narc, and he's teamed with the always unpredictable (and possibly psychotic) Ray Liotta.
The story has its usual twists and turns, betrayals and redemptions. What makes it stand out are the subtle, finely tuned performances of Patric and Liotta. We come to believe in these guys and their journeys, and the actors bring a much needed reality to a film that might otherwise succumb to its love of blue filters, jump cuts, and dazzling feats of editing.
This movie has some strong positives and some mild negatives. Overall, I'd say it's worth the rental.
In NARC, Jason Patric returns to a character that seems right out of his criminally underappreciated RUSH. Det. Sgt. Nick Tellis is a cop in rough shape. He used to be an undercover narcotics officer, but he accidentally hit a pregnant woman in a gunfight and he's barely hanging on the paycheck from his administrative leave. Oh, and he may have been a drug addict, to boot. Tellis is given a chance to return to active duty to solve the murder of another undercover narc, and he's teamed with the always unpredictable (and possibly psychotic) Ray Liotta.
The story has its usual twists and turns, betrayals and redemptions. What makes it stand out are the subtle, finely tuned performances of Patric and Liotta. We come to believe in these guys and their journeys, and the actors bring a much needed reality to a film that might otherwise succumb to its love of blue filters, jump cuts, and dazzling feats of editing.
This movie has some strong positives and some mild negatives. Overall, I'd say it's worth the rental.
Sunday, February 25, 2007
For Your Consideration
FOR YOUR CONSIDERATION reunites the wonderful team that brought us WAITING FOR GUFFMAN, BEST IN SHOW, and A MIGHTY WIND for their weakest outing to date.
FOR YOUR CONSIDERATION follows the lives of the cast, crew, and miscellaneous fellow travellers associated with the sure-to-tank "Home For Purim," a disastrous collision of Tennessee Williams and anachronistic modern Judaism. Things are looking grim for all involved until rumours about possible Oscar nominations start flying on the internet. Then it's the race to sell out just as fast as possible, cowritten by a guy who starred in AMERICAN PIE 5: THE NAKED MILE.
FOR YOUR CONSIDERATION has several laughs, notably from the brilliant Jane Lynch as a Mary Hart -like entertainment anchorwoman, but its pessimistic and ultimately sad outlook on Hollywood and its people outweighs the levity of its subject matter and closes us on such a sad, sad note that we forget we're supposed to be watching a comedy.
FOR YOUR CONSIDERATION follows the lives of the cast, crew, and miscellaneous fellow travellers associated with the sure-to-tank "Home For Purim," a disastrous collision of Tennessee Williams and anachronistic modern Judaism. Things are looking grim for all involved until rumours about possible Oscar nominations start flying on the internet. Then it's the race to sell out just as fast as possible, cowritten by a guy who starred in AMERICAN PIE 5: THE NAKED MILE.
FOR YOUR CONSIDERATION has several laughs, notably from the brilliant Jane Lynch as a Mary Hart -like entertainment anchorwoman, but its pessimistic and ultimately sad outlook on Hollywood and its people outweighs the levity of its subject matter and closes us on such a sad, sad note that we forget we're supposed to be watching a comedy.
Nanny McPhee
I absolutely adored Emma Thompson's NANNY MCPHEE.
The film takes a reliable formula, a nanny shows up and squares away an intractable household, and works magic with it. Emma Thompson is marvelous as the titular nanny, Colin Firth turns in fine work as the hapless widowed father, Kelly MacDonald is utterly luminous as the scullery maid with a fairy-tale ending in store for her, and brilliant actors Angela Lansbury, Derek Jacobi, and the young Thomas Sangster prove that there's no such thing as a small role.
NANNY MCPHEE looks great, with a palette that reminds both that we're watching a fairy tale and that, in this world, everything will turn out fine. Its Thompson - penned dialogue sparkles, Patrick Doyle's score perfectly complements the action, and the film's ending is remarkably satisfying. This film does everything it sets out to do, and it does it with uninetrrupted excellence. Watch this one with the kids, or watch it alone - regardless, everyone in the room is guaranteed to have a good time.
While I'm writing about one of her works, allow me to take a moment to appreciate the remarkable career of Emma Thompson. When I first noticed her in HENRY V, she was just another beauty. From there, she went on to DEAD AGAIN, MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING, and HOWARD'S END, just to name a few. She took home a BEST ADAPTED SCREENPLAY Oscar for Sense and Sensibility, and her career hasn't slowed down since. She effortlessly moves from small pieces like THE WINTER GUEST to blockbusters like the HARRY POTTER series without missing a beat, and she's consistently smart, affecting, and wonderful in everything she does.
What a marvelous talent.
The film takes a reliable formula, a nanny shows up and squares away an intractable household, and works magic with it. Emma Thompson is marvelous as the titular nanny, Colin Firth turns in fine work as the hapless widowed father, Kelly MacDonald is utterly luminous as the scullery maid with a fairy-tale ending in store for her, and brilliant actors Angela Lansbury, Derek Jacobi, and the young Thomas Sangster prove that there's no such thing as a small role.
NANNY MCPHEE looks great, with a palette that reminds both that we're watching a fairy tale and that, in this world, everything will turn out fine. Its Thompson - penned dialogue sparkles, Patrick Doyle's score perfectly complements the action, and the film's ending is remarkably satisfying. This film does everything it sets out to do, and it does it with uninetrrupted excellence. Watch this one with the kids, or watch it alone - regardless, everyone in the room is guaranteed to have a good time.
While I'm writing about one of her works, allow me to take a moment to appreciate the remarkable career of Emma Thompson. When I first noticed her in HENRY V, she was just another beauty. From there, she went on to DEAD AGAIN, MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING, and HOWARD'S END, just to name a few. She took home a BEST ADAPTED SCREENPLAY Oscar for Sense and Sensibility, and her career hasn't slowed down since. She effortlessly moves from small pieces like THE WINTER GUEST to blockbusters like the HARRY POTTER series without missing a beat, and she's consistently smart, affecting, and wonderful in everything she does.
What a marvelous talent.
Saturday, February 24, 2007
Highlander: Endgame
I remember how we began, with HIGHLANDER. It was the days before the internet, and I walked into the theater solely on the strength of Sean Connery's name on the poster. You surprised me. You dazzled me. You found a special place in my heart.
But you changed. In HIGHLANDER II: THE QUICKENING, I didn't even recognize you. Everything you had told me about yourself turned out to be a lie, and you treated me like the dirt under your shoes. So I walked away.
I was done with you. I didn't need you in my life. But then you came around, full of promise, with HIGHLANDER III: THE SORCERER. It wasn't like the first time, and our trust had been broken, but at least it seemed like you were making an effort. Finally, though, I realized you were an empty shell - all promise and no delivery. We were finished. Through. I had my own path to tread.
Why, oh why, did I allow myself to fall into the same trap when you came back around with HIGHLANDER IV: ENDGAME? I knew what I was getting into, but I couldn't resist. My heart kept going back to those wonderful early days, even as my mind told me that no good could come of you. I should have listened. Once you had me committed again, you didn't even try to act like a real movie. You were nothing more than an "extra special episode with special guest Christopher Lambert." Your production values were strictly cable tv - and one of the high-numbered channels, to boot. Your heroes were lame, and your villains even lamer. Your story was pointless, your fight choreography uninteresting, and your climax an invalidation of your own wobbly mythos. That's it. I'm done with you, and for good this time. Don't come around, because I respect myself now and I've got no time for you.
What? IMDB tells me that HIGHLANDER: THE SOURCE is in post-production? Well, maybe just this once. What's the harm?
But you changed. In HIGHLANDER II: THE QUICKENING, I didn't even recognize you. Everything you had told me about yourself turned out to be a lie, and you treated me like the dirt under your shoes. So I walked away.
I was done with you. I didn't need you in my life. But then you came around, full of promise, with HIGHLANDER III: THE SORCERER. It wasn't like the first time, and our trust had been broken, but at least it seemed like you were making an effort. Finally, though, I realized you were an empty shell - all promise and no delivery. We were finished. Through. I had my own path to tread.
Why, oh why, did I allow myself to fall into the same trap when you came back around with HIGHLANDER IV: ENDGAME? I knew what I was getting into, but I couldn't resist. My heart kept going back to those wonderful early days, even as my mind told me that no good could come of you. I should have listened. Once you had me committed again, you didn't even try to act like a real movie. You were nothing more than an "extra special episode with special guest Christopher Lambert." Your production values were strictly cable tv - and one of the high-numbered channels, to boot. Your heroes were lame, and your villains even lamer. Your story was pointless, your fight choreography uninteresting, and your climax an invalidation of your own wobbly mythos. That's it. I'm done with you, and for good this time. Don't come around, because I respect myself now and I've got no time for you.
What? IMDB tells me that HIGHLANDER: THE SOURCE is in post-production? Well, maybe just this once. What's the harm?
Assault on Precinct 13
ASSAULT ON PRECINCT 13 is aggressively mediocre.
The film hits every mark, goes through all the motions, like it's trying very hard. Hard as it may try, however, it simply cannot muster the tension it's trying to achieve. We know who the traitor is the minute we see him. We know who's going to die, and pretty much in what order. We know exactly how the hero's arc will play out, and we even know how the antihero's arc will play out.
As the hero, Ethan Hawke shows us nothing we haven't seen before. As the antihero, Lawrence Fishburne is convincingly portrays a one-note actor. As the various targets trapped inside the titular precinct house with our anti/heroic duo, Monica Bello, Drea de Matteo, John Leguizamo, Brian Dennehy, and "I've seen that guy before" guy Matt Craven all show up, do their jobs, and go home.
While not a terrible film, ASSAULT ON PRECINCT 13 has little to recommend it. It may be just thing to have on in the background while doing chores, but I wouldn't sit down for it again.
The film hits every mark, goes through all the motions, like it's trying very hard. Hard as it may try, however, it simply cannot muster the tension it's trying to achieve. We know who the traitor is the minute we see him. We know who's going to die, and pretty much in what order. We know exactly how the hero's arc will play out, and we even know how the antihero's arc will play out.
As the hero, Ethan Hawke shows us nothing we haven't seen before. As the antihero, Lawrence Fishburne is convincingly portrays a one-note actor. As the various targets trapped inside the titular precinct house with our anti/heroic duo, Monica Bello, Drea de Matteo, John Leguizamo, Brian Dennehy, and "I've seen that guy before" guy Matt Craven all show up, do their jobs, and go home.
While not a terrible film, ASSAULT ON PRECINCT 13 has little to recommend it. It may be just thing to have on in the background while doing chores, but I wouldn't sit down for it again.
Thursday, February 22, 2007
Lock, Stock, and Two Smoking Barrels
There's a moment at the beginning of the endgame of LOCK, STOCK AND TWO SMOKING BARRELS (1998) in which all the pieces are assembled on the board, but the interlocking stories and plots are jumbled together and everything appears to be headed for total chaos. Watching it, I thought, "How the hell is this guy (writer / director Guy Ritchie) going to pull this off?"
He pulls it off with dash, flair, humor, and not a little bit of gratuitous violence. The same could be said of the entire film. LOCK, STOCK AND TWO SMOKING BARRELS is a fun, vibrant picture that isn't afraid to tell a raucous story raucously. Ritchie clearly enjoys writing dialogue that, if not entirely natural, is a pleasure to hear. Additionally, the guy knows how to craft a story that's inherently violent without giving it any real sense of danger. His characters and situations are so outlandish that they feel like characters and situations, not like real people, and that adds to the movie's sense of fun.
LOCK, STOCK AND TWO SMOKING BARRELS could have gone wrong in any number of ways. Fortunately, Ritchie avoids them and delivers an energetic, amusing picture.
What a pleasant surprise.
PS There's a whole other side to this movie, the investigation of which was inconsistent with the upbeat tone of my remarks. LS&TSB does some interesting things with the nature of class, cleverly delineating various levels of "us-ness" and "them-ness." This is the kind of movie that could take you from a fun time at the theater to a fun time over coffee later, as you consider how calculated the film is, and how complicit you are, in its presentation of class and ethnicity.
He pulls it off with dash, flair, humor, and not a little bit of gratuitous violence. The same could be said of the entire film. LOCK, STOCK AND TWO SMOKING BARRELS is a fun, vibrant picture that isn't afraid to tell a raucous story raucously. Ritchie clearly enjoys writing dialogue that, if not entirely natural, is a pleasure to hear. Additionally, the guy knows how to craft a story that's inherently violent without giving it any real sense of danger. His characters and situations are so outlandish that they feel like characters and situations, not like real people, and that adds to the movie's sense of fun.
LOCK, STOCK AND TWO SMOKING BARRELS could have gone wrong in any number of ways. Fortunately, Ritchie avoids them and delivers an energetic, amusing picture.
What a pleasant surprise.
PS There's a whole other side to this movie, the investigation of which was inconsistent with the upbeat tone of my remarks. LS&TSB does some interesting things with the nature of class, cleverly delineating various levels of "us-ness" and "them-ness." This is the kind of movie that could take you from a fun time at the theater to a fun time over coffee later, as you consider how calculated the film is, and how complicit you are, in its presentation of class and ethnicity.
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
The Descent
I'm not claustrophobic. I know this because at one point in my military training I was put in a situation designed to induce extreme claustrophobia. I was snug as could be and could have stayed there all night. At least, I thought I wasn't claustrophobic. THE DESCENT has made me reconsider.
THE DESCENT has a solid horror framework: a group of friends go somewhere and promptly start dying. In this particular case, the friends go spelunking, a pastime which never particularly appealed to me but never particularly repelled me, either. While watching the first third of THE DESCENT, the one in which the group penetrates more deeply into the cave network in which nasty things are sure to happen, I felt uncomfortable, then confined, then outright claustrophobic. The filmmakers do such a fine job of closing in more and more tightly on both their characters and audience that, by the time a member of the party gets stuck in a tiny passageway, it was all I could do to breathe. I could feel the oppressive weight of the earth above me, and I yearned for daylight. Later in the film, when the nasties show up, THE DESCENT becomes your basic bug-hunt movie, which is fine. Still later, when the protagonist goes Spacek, the movie takes some unexpected and creative turns which pay off well. But that first third - oh man - I've never seen anything like it.
Neil Marshall, who earlier directed personal favorite DOG SOLDIERS, again populates his film with characters we know and respect. He doesn't waste our time with too much exposition, and he doesn't go for all the easy character beats we expect. Instead, he gives us the chance to get to know these people based on what they do, not say. It's sound, economical film-making, and it works.
What a treat.
THE DESCENT has a solid horror framework: a group of friends go somewhere and promptly start dying. In this particular case, the friends go spelunking, a pastime which never particularly appealed to me but never particularly repelled me, either. While watching the first third of THE DESCENT, the one in which the group penetrates more deeply into the cave network in which nasty things are sure to happen, I felt uncomfortable, then confined, then outright claustrophobic. The filmmakers do such a fine job of closing in more and more tightly on both their characters and audience that, by the time a member of the party gets stuck in a tiny passageway, it was all I could do to breathe. I could feel the oppressive weight of the earth above me, and I yearned for daylight. Later in the film, when the nasties show up, THE DESCENT becomes your basic bug-hunt movie, which is fine. Still later, when the protagonist goes Spacek, the movie takes some unexpected and creative turns which pay off well. But that first third - oh man - I've never seen anything like it.
Neil Marshall, who earlier directed personal favorite DOG SOLDIERS, again populates his film with characters we know and respect. He doesn't waste our time with too much exposition, and he doesn't go for all the easy character beats we expect. Instead, he gives us the chance to get to know these people based on what they do, not say. It's sound, economical film-making, and it works.
What a treat.
Monday, February 19, 2007
Rookie of the Year
ROOKIE OF THE YEAR is the kind of innocuous kids' movie that dreams small dreams: it only wants to entertain young baseball fans without inflicting too much pain on their parents.
It succeeds, I suppose. It entertained my young baseball fan and didn't inflict too much pain on me, but that doesn't make it a good movie. Its star, a kid (at the time) named Thomas Ian Griffith, knows two expressions: happy and dumfounded and sad and dumbfounded. Its action is ridiculous, it story paper-thin, and its adult-themed jokes too risque.
ROOKIE OF THE YEAR isn't a failure because it sets its sights so low. If you don't have a young baseball fan in the house, however, don't bother.
It succeeds, I suppose. It entertained my young baseball fan and didn't inflict too much pain on me, but that doesn't make it a good movie. Its star, a kid (at the time) named Thomas Ian Griffith, knows two expressions: happy and dumfounded and sad and dumbfounded. Its action is ridiculous, it story paper-thin, and its adult-themed jokes too risque.
ROOKIE OF THE YEAR isn't a failure because it sets its sights so low. If you don't have a young baseball fan in the house, however, don't bother.
Sunday, February 18, 2007
Blackballed: The Bobby Dukes Story
I hated every frame of BLACKBALLED: THE BOBBY DUKES STORY. In fact, I couldn't get through it. When the movie hit 45 minutes without eliciting even the faintest trace of the beginning of the uptick of a grin, I ejected the thing, put it in its envelope, and dropped it in the mail.
BLACKBALLED is the kind of movie that hates its characters, hates its subject matter, and hates you, the viewer. The movie's about a disgraced paintball champion who returns to his old stomping grounds a decade after his shaming event. His friends loathe him and his enemies loathe him. I find nothing funny in loathing and found nothing funny here.
BLACKBALLED looks and sounds cheap. Its characters don't work. Nothing about it is funny. Someone should have shot it through the heart.
BLACKBALLED is the kind of movie that hates its characters, hates its subject matter, and hates you, the viewer. The movie's about a disgraced paintball champion who returns to his old stomping grounds a decade after his shaming event. His friends loathe him and his enemies loathe him. I find nothing funny in loathing and found nothing funny here.
BLACKBALLED looks and sounds cheap. Its characters don't work. Nothing about it is funny. Someone should have shot it through the heart.
Pusher
If LAYER CAKE is a movie about a genius trying to survive in a world of morons, then PUSHER (1996) is a movie about a moron trying to survive in a world of morons.
The movie follows Frank, a guy on one of the lower levels of the multi-level marketing scheme known as the Danish narcotics trade, through what may well be the last week of his life. PUSHER uses the industry-standard pattern of high life and decline, but it does so with two important deviations: it's shot with an improvisational style, using ambient light and (mostly, it seems) handheld cameras; and it doesn't give us anyone to root for. Frank is an idiotic scumbag surrounded by idiotic scumbags, and the succession of lousy decisions to which the movie bears witness does nothing to endear us to him or anyone else.
So, why bother with PUSHER? First, it puts us viewers right in Frank's increasingly uncomfortable shoes, and it takes us places where glamorous crime movies never go. Second, it manages to make us root for Frank, even as we despise him. It slowly ratchets up the tension until we find ourselves fully invested in his predicament, and its payoff is both unexpected and perfect.
That said, watching PUSHER was not a particularly pleasant experience. I respect this movie, but I don't necessarily like it. There's a PUSHER II and III out there, but I think I've spent about all the time with these people that I'm willing to spend.
The movie follows Frank, a guy on one of the lower levels of the multi-level marketing scheme known as the Danish narcotics trade, through what may well be the last week of his life. PUSHER uses the industry-standard pattern of high life and decline, but it does so with two important deviations: it's shot with an improvisational style, using ambient light and (mostly, it seems) handheld cameras; and it doesn't give us anyone to root for. Frank is an idiotic scumbag surrounded by idiotic scumbags, and the succession of lousy decisions to which the movie bears witness does nothing to endear us to him or anyone else.
So, why bother with PUSHER? First, it puts us viewers right in Frank's increasingly uncomfortable shoes, and it takes us places where glamorous crime movies never go. Second, it manages to make us root for Frank, even as we despise him. It slowly ratchets up the tension until we find ourselves fully invested in his predicament, and its payoff is both unexpected and perfect.
That said, watching PUSHER was not a particularly pleasant experience. I respect this movie, but I don't necessarily like it. There's a PUSHER II and III out there, but I think I've spent about all the time with these people that I'm willing to spend.
Friday, February 16, 2007
All About My Mother
I fired up ALL ABOUT MY MOTHER solely to check the Almodovar box. I didn't know anything about the picture going in, and that may be the best way to approach the piece.
ALL ABOUT MY MOTHER is a gorgeous picture, the kind of movie that had me watching with one finger on the "pause" button, just so I could admire the composition of certain shots. The care in the film's design reflects the care that went into crafting its characters on both the page and the screen. Cecilia Roth, playing the film's protagonist, anchors its interweaving stories and tragedies with a grounded, present authority and conducts us on a journey that's well worth the price of admission.
What a pleasant surprise.
ALL ABOUT MY MOTHER is a gorgeous picture, the kind of movie that had me watching with one finger on the "pause" button, just so I could admire the composition of certain shots. The care in the film's design reflects the care that went into crafting its characters on both the page and the screen. Cecilia Roth, playing the film's protagonist, anchors its interweaving stories and tragedies with a grounded, present authority and conducts us on a journey that's well worth the price of admission.
What a pleasant surprise.
Thursday, February 15, 2007
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.
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.
Wednesday, February 14, 2007
Eros
Wong Kar Wai. Steven Soderbergh. Michelangelo Antonioni. Three short films on Eros. How could it possibly go wrong?
Wrong it goes.
Here's the problem: the first film, Wong Kar Wai's "The Hand," is so much better than the other two that most of the movie is a letdown. In "The Hand," Gong Li plays an aging courtesan who enthralls and possesses the young tailor (Chang Chen, from THREE TIMES) sent to design and create her gowns. Li is so intriguing, so commanding, so sad, so pathetic, that she overshadows every other woman in the tryptich. When we should be thinking about the Dream Girl of Soderbergh's "Equilibrium" or the dancing nudes of Antonioni's "The Dangerous Thread of Things," we're thinking about Li and Chen and Christopher Doyle's beautiful cinematography.
Unfortunately, this means that EROS is a mixed bag. TiVo it for the first chapter, but feel free to skip the following two.
Wrong it goes.
Here's the problem: the first film, Wong Kar Wai's "The Hand," is so much better than the other two that most of the movie is a letdown. In "The Hand," Gong Li plays an aging courtesan who enthralls and possesses the young tailor (Chang Chen, from THREE TIMES) sent to design and create her gowns. Li is so intriguing, so commanding, so sad, so pathetic, that she overshadows every other woman in the tryptich. When we should be thinking about the Dream Girl of Soderbergh's "Equilibrium" or the dancing nudes of Antonioni's "The Dangerous Thread of Things," we're thinking about Li and Chen and Christopher Doyle's beautiful cinematography.
Unfortunately, this means that EROS is a mixed bag. TiVo it for the first chapter, but feel free to skip the following two.
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
Jet Li's Fearless
Fearless is a towering masterpiece and a brilliantly fitting end to Jet Li's wuxia-film career. It's thoughtful, beautiful, exciting, and heartbreaking. It makes me want to be a better man.
By now, most of us are familiar with the Joseph Campbell's Hero's Journey and they way that journey informs the Western storytelling tradition. Jet Li's Fearless takes on a different kind of journey, the Buddha's Journey, and it breaks and re-forms our hearts along the way.
In the Buddha's Journey, the privileged young man comes to see the emptiness of that privilege. He either wills himself or is shocked out of his mental and emotional space, and he embarks on a spiritual quest for enlightenment. For most men, that enlightenment never comes and the quest becomes its own spiritual vehicle. The Buddha, however, gets it in the most profound way imaginable. If he returns, he may try to share part of what he's seen with his fellows. He may even succeed.
Fearless begins with Huo Yan Jia (Li) at a tournament in the waning days of the Qing Empire. Li, the embodiment of Buddhist self-possession and peace, easily bests three Champions of the Western World. As the last challenger, a Japanese fighter, enters the ring, we flash back to Huo as an impetuous and Wu Shu - obsessed child. From there, the film takes on the journey that leads to this ring and beyond. It's beautiful work, beautifully done, and it does more to illustrate my limited knowledge of Buddhist thought than any other film I've ever seen.
The film itself looks beautiful. Fearless chooses a heightened aesthetic. Its world looks like our world, only cleaner and fresher and somehow more wonderful. In other words, it's the world of story. It's a world in which wire-fu lives alongside the drudgery of planting rice in paddy day after day after day. It's a world that's infused with beauty, and one in which unspeakable things happen to people who deserve only wonder and joy. Even if the whole "Buddha's Journey" thing doesn't appeal to you, even if you could care less about wuxia films, this picture is worth seeing for the joy of looking at it alone.
The action, well, it's wonderful. Choreographer Yuen Wo Ping pulls out all the stops here, letting us see and feel the variations in the fighting styles onscreen and seamlessly blending wire work with practical stunts. The film's fights (or later, competitions) breathe with an organic life of their own, and they're filled with surprises both delightful and heartbreaking. Some of the action beats in Fearless made me laugh - others brought tears to my eyes. From a choreography and dance perspective alone, this thing is phenomenal.
Finally, Fearless is a heartbreaking movie. Having grown up in rural America, I'm not much for bucolic reawakenings. Nevertheless, Fearless made me cry just by showing me a bunch of farmers pausing to stretch their backs in the middle of a hard day of planting. This is a movie that explores a life badly lived, then turns and gives us one lived well. We see this life lived well, and we see the effect it has on the people it touches. It makes me want to live my life better, to touch those around me in a more positive way.
What a wonderful, brilliant movie. In a year filled with outstanding films, Fearless is one of the very best.
Gojira
Takashi Shimura had a wonderful 1954. First, he starred as Kambei Shimada in The Seven Samurai, one of the greatest films ever made. Then he starred in another Toho production, the original Gojira. The latter film would later be recut and renamed Godzilla for an American audience, and that version (the one with Raymond Burr) would be the only Godzilla the American audience would know for quite some time.
What a shame, and what a blesssing that Sony chose to release the original version in a new U.S. DVD. Gojira is my favorite Godzilla movie, more than making up for its clunky effects and sometimes hamfisted acting with a genuinely scary and thought-provoking tale that recalls and reflects the Japanese sensibility in the wake of WWII.
Two events overshadow Gojira: the nuclear bombings on Hiroshima and Nagasaki and the fire bombing of Tokyo. While Godzilla is, obviously, a radioactive monster awakened by nuclear testing in the Pacific Islands, his destructive rampage invokes the horror of the fire-bombing, an event that (if I remember my 1993 reading of Kurosawa's _Something Like an Autobiography_ correctly) gutted Toho Studios and personally affected the lives of those who worked there. Consequently, Gojira pulls no punches. The monster's rampage isn't cute, or played for action beats. It's horrific, people die, and those who survive the onslaught must deal with the effects of radiation poisoning afterward.
Takashi Shimura anchors this film. Surrounded by overacting young stars and giant latex monsters, Shimura brings a level of maturity and gravity to the situation that makes us believe in both it and him. The actor plays things straight, and paleontologist / wise man character keeps the proceedings anchored in reality when they could very easily descend into camp.
Gojiira. It's the first. It's the best. It's not to be missed. What were the odds that one man could star in two classics in the same year?
What a shame, and what a blesssing that Sony chose to release the original version in a new U.S. DVD. Gojira is my favorite Godzilla movie, more than making up for its clunky effects and sometimes hamfisted acting with a genuinely scary and thought-provoking tale that recalls and reflects the Japanese sensibility in the wake of WWII.
Two events overshadow Gojira: the nuclear bombings on Hiroshima and Nagasaki and the fire bombing of Tokyo. While Godzilla is, obviously, a radioactive monster awakened by nuclear testing in the Pacific Islands, his destructive rampage invokes the horror of the fire-bombing, an event that (if I remember my 1993 reading of Kurosawa's _Something Like an Autobiography_ correctly) gutted Toho Studios and personally affected the lives of those who worked there. Consequently, Gojira pulls no punches. The monster's rampage isn't cute, or played for action beats. It's horrific, people die, and those who survive the onslaught must deal with the effects of radiation poisoning afterward.
Takashi Shimura anchors this film. Surrounded by overacting young stars and giant latex monsters, Shimura brings a level of maturity and gravity to the situation that makes us believe in both it and him. The actor plays things straight, and paleontologist / wise man character keeps the proceedings anchored in reality when they could very easily descend into camp.
Gojiira. It's the first. It's the best. It's not to be missed. What were the odds that one man could star in two classics in the same year?
Goodbye, Mr. Chips
I read Robert Hilton's _Good-Bye, Mr. Chips_ about two years ago. I loved it so much that I didn't bother to seek out the film, feeling that I'd already experienced the story. I did myself a disservice by waiting so long.
Sam Wood's 1939 version of the story, starring Robert Donat and Greer Garson, is wonderful. Donat plays Mr. Chips over roughly a 60-year span, taking the character from fresh-faced young teacher to wise old dean without putting a single foot wrong. It's a masterful performance, the kind of thing that makes us realize just how powerful and wonderful an art form drama is. Greer Garson, in her first film role, plays a supporting character that breathes life into both Chips and the movie. Though she doesn't get much screen time, her presence energizes the whole proceedings - she's wonderful to watch.
Goodbye, Mr. Chips follows its titular character through the chapters of his life as a professor at a English Boy's School, the kind of institution that has become part of the British cultural landscape. On his first day, he lets the boys roll right over him, but it isn't long before those selfsame boys come to respect him and send their best wishes, along with their own boys, back to him. This isn't the saccharine stuff of a Dead Poets' Society, however. Chips is a real guy, a product of his time and place, as are his charges. He never really breaks out until he meets Garson on - well, I'll let you discover that element for yourself. The film is told in episodes, lifting moments from the Professor's life, and closes in the way we would all hope a life well lived would close. With grace, joy, and hope.
I just plain loved this movie. Had I seen it as a younger man, it may have inspired me to go into teaching. Who knows? Perhaps it still might.
Sam Wood's 1939 version of the story, starring Robert Donat and Greer Garson, is wonderful. Donat plays Mr. Chips over roughly a 60-year span, taking the character from fresh-faced young teacher to wise old dean without putting a single foot wrong. It's a masterful performance, the kind of thing that makes us realize just how powerful and wonderful an art form drama is. Greer Garson, in her first film role, plays a supporting character that breathes life into both Chips and the movie. Though she doesn't get much screen time, her presence energizes the whole proceedings - she's wonderful to watch.
Goodbye, Mr. Chips follows its titular character through the chapters of his life as a professor at a English Boy's School, the kind of institution that has become part of the British cultural landscape. On his first day, he lets the boys roll right over him, but it isn't long before those selfsame boys come to respect him and send their best wishes, along with their own boys, back to him. This isn't the saccharine stuff of a Dead Poets' Society, however. Chips is a real guy, a product of his time and place, as are his charges. He never really breaks out until he meets Garson on - well, I'll let you discover that element for yourself. The film is told in episodes, lifting moments from the Professor's life, and closes in the way we would all hope a life well lived would close. With grace, joy, and hope.
I just plain loved this movie. Had I seen it as a younger man, it may have inspired me to go into teaching. Who knows? Perhaps it still might.
Thursday, February 08, 2007
The Coast Guard
THE COAST GUARD is a Korean picture by Kim Ki Duk, the guy who made 3-IRON. Since I love 3-IRON, I was all set to love this picture, as well. Unfortunately, it didn't work out that way.
South Korea is one of the few countries on Earth that actively patrols its beaches. Since the Korean War cease-fire, North Korea has consistently sent spies and saboteurs south to either do a quick hit-and-run or blend into society and await the call to action. There have been no confirmed infiltrations since 2000, but South Korean soldiers on coast guard duty continue to patrol, and they continue to have authorization to shoot anyone who they see on the beach at night. THE COAST GUARD is about one such soldier, a particularly gung-ho career man who shoots (and grenades) a man he thinks is an infiltrator, but who is actually just a drunk kid having sex on the beach. The soldier comes unglued, the kid's paramour goes insane, and things go downhill from there.
It's a good movie; a perfectly fine movie; but I've seen post-traumatic stress disorder movies before and I've seen military unit falling apart movies before. THE COAST GUARD doesn't add anything new to those concepts, and the print on the DVD is muddy and old. THE COAST GUARD doesn't give one much food for thought and it doesn't dazzle the eye, so we're left with a particularly good Movie of the Week.
As I said, it's a fine movie. But it's no 3-IRON.
Tuesday, February 06, 2007
The Son's Room
Sometimes, all a guy wants to do is watch an American picture where lots of stuff blows up real good.
That's the mood I was in when I reluctantly fired up THE SON'S ROOM (2001), Nanni Moretti's film about a family and the pain it endures when one of its members drowns in a scuba mishap. It wasn't long, however, before thoughts of explosions left my mind as I became deeply involved with this family, their grief, and their attempts to cope with it.
THE SON'S ROOM succeeds, in part, because it doesn't rush to tragedy. It gives us a good half hour to get to know these people; to develop an attachment to Andrea, the doomed teenager; and to develop a genuine affinity for Giovanni, the father and psychoanalyst who begins to suspect that his professional gods are as false as the Catholic one he left behind long ago. When Andrea dies offscreen, we empathize with his surviving family members, and we're ready to travel with them on the next phase of their journey.
What do I like most about this movie? It doesn't feature "Solsbury Hill," for one thing. For another, it offers no overblown dramatic scenes in which the characters shout their feelings at one another. For yet another, it offers no trite conclusion, or even an obvious message. A page is turned, and that's all, and that seems appropriate.
I was in the mood for an action picture, but I got something better: an involving picture. I care about these people, and I want to know what happens next in their lives. Perhaps they'll write.
That's the mood I was in when I reluctantly fired up THE SON'S ROOM (2001), Nanni Moretti's film about a family and the pain it endures when one of its members drowns in a scuba mishap. It wasn't long, however, before thoughts of explosions left my mind as I became deeply involved with this family, their grief, and their attempts to cope with it.
THE SON'S ROOM succeeds, in part, because it doesn't rush to tragedy. It gives us a good half hour to get to know these people; to develop an attachment to Andrea, the doomed teenager; and to develop a genuine affinity for Giovanni, the father and psychoanalyst who begins to suspect that his professional gods are as false as the Catholic one he left behind long ago. When Andrea dies offscreen, we empathize with his surviving family members, and we're ready to travel with them on the next phase of their journey.
What do I like most about this movie? It doesn't feature "Solsbury Hill," for one thing. For another, it offers no overblown dramatic scenes in which the characters shout their feelings at one another. For yet another, it offers no trite conclusion, or even an obvious message. A page is turned, and that's all, and that seems appropriate.
I was in the mood for an action picture, but I got something better: an involving picture. I care about these people, and I want to know what happens next in their lives. Perhaps they'll write.
Sunday, February 04, 2007
Rocky
So you say you want to be entertained? Well, ROCKY wants to entertain you. This 1981 Bollywood production has romance, deception, loss, redemption, motorcycle stunts, fistfights, heroes, villains, motherly love, and even a disco dance-off that you will never forget. The problem is that it isn't very good.
Here's the movie in a nutshell. Rocky's dad is a union organizer who's killed by the Indian Snidely Whiplash, who proceeds to sexually assault his mother while the boy, 6ish, tries to stop him. A family friend arrives just in time to save the day, but the boy is so traumatized that he's now an amnesiac. The local doctor believes that the boy should be separated from his mother, and the family friend steps in to adopt him. Fast forward 15-or-so years, and young Rocky's all grown up, still in the dark about his early childhood. He doesn't know it yet, but he has a karmic score to settle: over the next couple of hours, he must avenge his father, get the girl, and sing and dance his way into our hearts.
There's a problem, however. ROCKY's titular character is played by Sanjay Dutt, an actor so lacking in presence, range, and athletic ability that I couldn't decide which was more unbelievable: his acting, his dancing, or his stunt work. The supporting cast is fine, but it can't save a production that hinges on our acceptance of the entirely unremarkable Dutt as a charismatic leader, fearsome fighter, and dance machine.
As for the production, well, it's late-disco-era Bollywood, so stand by for some amusing sets and costumes. The transfer doesn't help, as the DVD producers seemed to work from the most scratched, discolorized, and generally battered print they could find. I guess it's better than nothing, if you're a Sanjay Dutt completist.
As I said, ROCKY wants to entertain you. Though it pulls out all the stops, sadly, it fails.
Here's the movie in a nutshell. Rocky's dad is a union organizer who's killed by the Indian Snidely Whiplash, who proceeds to sexually assault his mother while the boy, 6ish, tries to stop him. A family friend arrives just in time to save the day, but the boy is so traumatized that he's now an amnesiac. The local doctor believes that the boy should be separated from his mother, and the family friend steps in to adopt him. Fast forward 15-or-so years, and young Rocky's all grown up, still in the dark about his early childhood. He doesn't know it yet, but he has a karmic score to settle: over the next couple of hours, he must avenge his father, get the girl, and sing and dance his way into our hearts.
There's a problem, however. ROCKY's titular character is played by Sanjay Dutt, an actor so lacking in presence, range, and athletic ability that I couldn't decide which was more unbelievable: his acting, his dancing, or his stunt work. The supporting cast is fine, but it can't save a production that hinges on our acceptance of the entirely unremarkable Dutt as a charismatic leader, fearsome fighter, and dance machine.
As for the production, well, it's late-disco-era Bollywood, so stand by for some amusing sets and costumes. The transfer doesn't help, as the DVD producers seemed to work from the most scratched, discolorized, and generally battered print they could find. I guess it's better than nothing, if you're a Sanjay Dutt completist.
As I said, ROCKY wants to entertain you. Though it pulls out all the stops, sadly, it fails.
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