Shame

Shame brings to mind Leaving Las Vegas.  They’re both about addiction, and neither are about redemption.  They’re both about addicts who have lost all inhibition, all control over their addictions.  They’re about people who’ve burrowed into their addictions, feeding their needs far past satiety, past loathing.  They wrap themselves in shame.  They are their addictions.

With Nicolas Cage in Leaving Las Vegas, it’s alcohol.  With Michel Fassbender in Shame, it’s orgasm.  And while these addictions are terrible and destructive, they aren’t, ipso facto, particularly compelling.  Humanity is compelling.  In Leaving Las Vegas, humanity comes in the guise of Elisabeth Shue as a prostitute who recognizes the man inside the addiction.  In Shame, it’s Carey Mulligan as a sister so damaged she forces the man to look beyond his.

Cage, of course, won an Academy Award for Leaving Las Vegas.  Fassbender deserved one for Shame, delivering a performance breathtaking in its fearlessness and competence.  His character begins the film a slave to his compulsions, yet he seems to have found some kind of a workable life balance.  When Mulligan’s character enters the scene, however, he’s forced to see himself.  His dawning realization, his reaction to that realization, and his subsequent evolution (or lack thereof) is absolutely magnificent to behold.

My tastes in film run toward the upbeat low- to middlebrow.  A movie like Shame, like Leaving Las Vegas, generally isn’t my thing.  But sometimes, a film is so good, so well made, so compelling, that it defies those tastes and becomes something I recommend to all my friends.  Leaving Las Vegas is such a film.  So is Shame.

Arbitrage; 42

Arbitrage

In Arbitrage, Richard Gere plays an SOB who lies, cheats, defrauds, and worse. Because he's Richard Gere, we root for him anyway.

Here's a film that practically defines star power and what it brings to a movie. Gere is so charismatic that even though we know he's (if not evil, then definitely) not good, we hope he's able to elude all the people out to get him by the dawn of the third act. We actually buy into his BS, and we sigh with relief when he evades one trap, only to grip our armrests when it appears he's about to walk into another. The film maintains the illusion with the help of outstanding supporting performances from Susan Sarandon, Tim Roth, Reg E. Cathey (of 'The Wire'), and Brit Marling (of the remarkable Another Earth).

I'm not usually a fan of rooting for the bad guy, but Arbitrage won me over. This is a fine film.

42

42 is a warmly lit, rousingly scored, respectful and loving hagiography of a great American. It features a female lead (Nichole Beharie, as Mrs. Robinson) so beautiful that two of my kids fell in love with her at first sight. Its lead, Chadwick Boseman as Jackie Robinson, radiates strength, courage, and athleticism. Its supporting cast, including a fine Harrison Ford as Dodgers owner Branch Rickey and personal favorite Alan Tudyk [NOTE: If you haven't seen Tucker& Dale vs. Evil by now, you are bad at being a movie buff.] as a villain, sell its world. That said, 42 is a journeyman film.


How do I mean? I mean it's a perfectly competent sports hagiography. Its protagonist, Jackie Robinson, appears to have no flaws. It evokes its era (mid-'40s) with attention to detail and an eye for perfect costuming. It's structured well, it tells an important story, and it moves right along. I liked it. But it isn't great. Its sets don't look inhabited. Its heroes are treated too reverently, its villains allowed no nuance. It just feels like product.

But hey, it's a good product. It tells an important story, and it told it well enough to keep my kids engaged 'til the end. That's a win in my book.