What Doesn't Kill You

What Doesn't Kill You is an actors' showcase for it's stars and a fine drama for any interested in honesty over style (or honesty as style). Their isn't much pizazz to the way the filmmakers tell this story, but there is plenty to love about writer-director Brian Goodman's autobiographical tale of men making or avoiding the tough choices that make good men just that. I get a sense this is how "organized" crime really works. Strip away the style and larger than life characters of The Sopranos or Goodfellas and I suspect you'll get WDKY - mid-level lackeys miserable and depraved with only the notion that it's supposed to be better to move them on to each new day.

Ethan Hawke has never been better. The twitchiness to his "method" is toned down and instead of the sniveling loser or dreamy eyed slacker, Hawke becomes a witty, dangerous man with vague ambitions and no smarts to achieve more than he's already know. Lead Mark Ruffalo is excellent as well, lending an intensity and vulnerability to his character. Goodman has an ear for authenticity and a no-nonsense sensibility, but he needs to learn dramatic pacing, editing, and develop a more captivating aesthetic to match his actors' skills. I'll say this - he can cast like a crackerjack. The child actors who play Ruffalo and Amanda Peet's (solid as usual in a supporting role) quietly suffering offspring. They don't show off. They're not playing at anything (over-thinking, over-physicalizing, etc.), they're just being real kids in a rotten situation.

WDKY hit me like a ton of bricks, but it's dramatic finale was stale - a kin to a Movie of the Week. It's as though Goodman, in wanting to avoiding a Hollywood ending, didn't know how to provide any sense of closure to match everything that came before it. Still, for the performances and the real dramatic heft to it's story, WDKY (kudos for ending the title at that) is one of my favorite films from 2008.

***1/2

Synecdoche, New York

It's hard to comment on the narrative of Synecdoche, New York because it is as chaotic and dense as Charlie Kaufman would have you believe he intended all along. The truth is, that while Kaufman again offers insights in ways few other screenwriters or artists can, his story collapses into itself as it waltzes to its final fade out. That isn't to say there isn't merit to the chaos. S,NY is rife with themes that will plague your thoughts all the way home from the theater and into the next morning after you decided to try to sleep it off.

It's hard to give anyone a concrete synopsis. Yahoo Movies, Rottentomatoes, IMDB, and so forth all tried, but only managed to scratch the surface. What we watch, in a nutshell, is an artist waiting on a slowly but surely approaching death with the single intense desire to figure out the truth of his life through the fabrication of his life story as it happens past and present in a massive theater piece of which the scope is unfathomable as it increases in size until only the characters are still keeping track of who is who and why. Doesn't sound like a nutshell, huh?

I can talk about it all day and not really give anything away, because one watch isn't enough. It's a rough watch. I was uneasy and/or uncomfortable watching the film. There's plenty of Water The Fish(?) to go for miles. It seems impenetrable and so difficult to empathize or even sympathize with the characters on screen. It seems to go at least a half hour or so past its reported 2 hour and 4 minute runtime. I won't hurry back into the theater anytime soon to revisit the challenge, but somehow the anticipation of facing the challenge of watching Synecdoche, New York is exciting.

I can't really blame anyone for disliking this movie or even hating it. Everything negative you say is probably true, but there is a wealth of meaning and provocation under the dense and enigmatic surface.

On top of that and in spite of all claims otherwise, there are some amazing performances in this film. Phillip Seymour Hoffman carries this film on his weary and wounded shoulders, and conveys the essence of confusion, regret, loss, frustration, and fear that comes with living (though it is heightened dramatically). The best moments in this film are when he is quietly discovering something he had missed so easily while looking for it so very hard. And the truth is that S, NY is a cynical film, but above all a character piece about a man never able to see past himself. Kudos also to the supporting cast including a wonderfully alive and buoyant performance from Samantha Morton amongst the cold and uninviting atmosphere. The always enjoyable Diane Wiest, Tom Noonan, Michelle Williams and Emily Watson also contribute a light in the awkward chaos. And I find it both comforting and frustrating that the entire cast and Kaufman himself seem so sure of their message and film. But it's not altogether serious either. There is an absurdity to the whole thing that never quite allows the audience to fully engage the story. But that story does not exist without that absurdity.

I'll finish this review with a quote from Owen Gleiberman of Entertainment Weekly: "The compulsion to stand outside of one's life and observe it to this degree isn't the mechanism of art -- it's the structure of psychosis." Hoffman's character turns inward into himself a seemingly infinite amount of times for the insight to his shortcomings both in health and relationships, but ultimately learns nothing that can satisfy his need to search.

***1/2

Mickey Rourke in Entertainment Weekly

If you've ever given a hoot about Mickey Rourke (and I sure do - Boogie in Diner, Henry in Barfly - 'nuff said), then check out this awesome feature from EW.

Body of Lies

Body of Lies is a solid thriller and the first war on terror movie of recent years to put entertainment first. That could be problem number one, but the filmmakers are aware of the need for the audience to stay engaged with the material when others have put messages and political posturing ahead of said entertainment. There are politics involved, but most of the heavy-handedness is left behind in favor of a lesser form of Tony Scott's Enemy of the State's satellite views and board rooms and Peter Berg's The Kingdom's street battles. Leonardo Dicaprio acts through his Southern Twang and curiously bushy beard (you get used to it - you shouldn't have to really, but you will) to play the CIA's man on the ground in the Middle East. Russell Crowe acts through his Tom Cruise in Collateral hair, accent, spectacles and protruding paunch (and more effectively than his counterpart) to play the CIA suit back in the U.S. of A.. And the excellent Mark Strong plays a Jordanian intelligence head. All the performers sink their teeth into their parts, adding considerable bravado to their roles. I bought into it, though the push to ACT may irk some. The film, like writer William Monahan's breakthrough The Departed, is an excercise in genre. Unlike The Departed (a film I still declare is overrated), Monahan's Body of Lies script doesn't have any overtly memorable dialogue. In truth, it entertains without being memorable. It's better than a one-watcher, but doesn't hold up to the shadow of the underrated and already forgotten August film Traitor. And after the entertainment ends in Body of Lies, I'm left to wonder what if anything I have learned, or more importantly if I should (given the setting, plot, and current world politics) be learning anything. Well directed, acted, and filmed but not lasting in impact. And then Traitor comes to mind...The problem is that Body of Lies is entertaining in a fun way - all the violence, backstabbing, and spying I appreciate in a CIA thriller...only it's really happening somewhere in the world right now. And maybe I should rethink entertainment in general. Because Traitor is entertaining AND says something more than just the reality of the complexity and difficulty of international intelligence. Plus Don Cheadle is as fine as any other actor out there right now. Here's me asking P.T. Anderson or Steven Soderberg to cast him in another one of their ensemble dramas again.



Traitor ***1/2
Body of Lies ***

The Savages

I had heard mixed reviews for this movie for a while, but I read the script for my screenwriting class and really enjoyed it. The movie was its own kind of pleasure. I think since I can relate to having a loved one in a nursing home with dementia, the character echoed my parents in ways I couldn't see before. The guilt. The awkward, heartbreaking goodbyes after short visits. The struggle to see your parents weak and frail and dying. And family. Another family movie that speaks to the strange ties that bind. Thick blood that sticks to everything even when it hurts. This is strong writing. This is strong acting. Laura Linney has her own brand of theatricity, but she is, to borrow a classic critic cliche, a winning performer. Her acting is specific to her and I can say with a smile that she played her character in a way no other actress could have. She's not imitating anyone. And after seeing Phillip Seymour Hoffman in his spectrum of quality performances this year (Before the Devil Knows You're Dead, Charlie Wilson's War), I'd have to say that his work as John Savage is my favorite. It's not the gritty drama of BTDKYD, but it offers its own kind of drama. The chemistry between Hoffman, Linney, and the fine Phillip Bosco as their father is palpable. He's able to create a conflicted character that easily could have turned into the "evil brother". Instead, there was a helpless sadness to the guy that seemed all too familiar. There's comedy, but this is really a drama through and through. And rewarding at that.

****

King of California

I didn't expect too much from this forgotten 2007 studio/indie. It was largely panned by critics and I hadn't heard anybody I know even mention it prior to my blind buy on Friday.

I enjoyed the movie. I had a good time with the characters. The movie started off poorly, with heavy voice over serving as exposition from one character. The music was too on-the-nose quirky (reminiscent of One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest at times). The movie is Z-a-n-y with a capital "Z". The film asked the audience to make the concession early on that a resourceful and bright teenager could slyly fool parents, social workers, and other authorities for a long, extended period of time. Just go ahead and grant them that or you'll be bothered for the rest of the movie. But it grew on me just as the two main characters grew on me. Not like an unpleasant (or even pleasant fungus) but rather as people can grow on you after you've misjudged them based on first impressions. I found the movie to be a warm, heartfelt, original pic with a very enjoyable, manic performance from Michael Douglas and a fine piece of acting from Evan Rachel Wood. Plus, there was a character named Pepper. That's the bees' knees right there.

This (along with Lars and the Real Girl) seems to be heading a wave of films using and skewing mental illness to their own ends, but I am not really bothered by it. I learn about these people through these exaggerated maladies. As a member of the mentally ill community, I say, "Go for it, but do so with tenderness as these two films did."

***1/2

Snow Angels

This film had moments of real truth and others that rang false. When it was on, it was devastating. When it was off, the reality of the film is broken - odd given my next statements.

This film features broken people trying to do right, to be happy, to pick themselves up again, and then failing miserably. Then there are glimpses of hope, happiness, and simple pleasures before we are again reminded for the last time the effects of brokenness, mistakes, regret, and the like. That is the last thing we see before black and it is the feeling we leave the theater with. Life goes on, but it slows down and hurts for some of us. At first I thought the film had a cynical outlook, but now I'm thinking it's a realist film. Bitter and sweet at the same time.

It's not David Gordon Green's best film, but certainly nothing to be ashamed of. I was entertained and provoked into thought. I laughed. I didn't cry, but wouldn't not have felt manipulated if I had. This movie is honest even when the acting and the dialogue feel fabricated. Kate Beckinsale (who I like) is miscast. She doesn't fit in with the location, her co-stars, etc. She can cry, but the dramatic dialogue is case-in-point for the awkwardness that rubbed off on others (Nicky Katt especially).

I did love Sam Rockwell in the movie. He makes interesting acting choices. Even when he dangles over the unbelievable line, he keeps one foot rooted in reality. And the two young actors are case-in-point of the truth the film always finds its way back to.

***1/2

Lars and the Real Girl

Lars and the Real Girl is the biggest surprise of the year so far. It somehow manages to take what on the surface seems like a "frat pack" movie (man falls in love with a sex doll) and turns it into something tender, heartbreaking and emotionally resonating.

I am positive that the movie takes mental illness and skews it to its own benefit, but using the doll as a extension of Lars problems proves to be a convincing ploy. By all logic and expectations, I should have no connection to this inanimate hunk of plastic; but I grew attached to her so much, I think, because I knew as the townspoeple did that Bianca was so important to Lars who was important to them.

The film also portrayed the townspeople and Christians as caring, helpful, and decent people. I want to move to that town. It doesn't exist, but write me into a town where people care that much about their neighbors.

The second best film of the year so far behind Zodiac.

****1/2

Days of Heaven "Trying to understand why (Days of Heaven's) characters said "yes" is where the unique interest lies."

Watching Days of Heaven was an experience unlike any I have had before. I think I about threw up from all the gut-wrenching drama - a distressing nausea I embraced.

I got to watch the wonderful mind of writer-director Terrence Malick (The New World, The Thin Red Line) at work and finally see what all those David Gordon Green comparisons were about. There is a splendid and awe-inspiring poetry to Malick's films. While his films follow a narrative structure, they pause for the beauty of nature, stolen moments in the characters' lives, and alternatively plain-spoken and poetic or philosophical voice overs.

For the first time, I saw a Malick film in which there was a singular narrative voice-over. Bill (Richard Gere) and Abby's (Brooke Adams) daughter ( tells the story of how they left Chicago and headed out west to work the fields of a wealthy, lonely farmer (Sam Shephard). The farmer is dying. He begins to fall for Abby. Soon, Bill is urging Abby to wed him so they can become rich off of his money once he passes. But he lives longer than anyone expected and the growing tensions between the three create the gut-wrenching drama I mentioned earlier.

Brooke Adams is not very attractive to me (I think it's her mouth line that does it for me), so I had to look through the eyes of the men in the movie. And I began to see some of that indescribable "somethin'" she possessed. I still wouldn't have married the woman, but that's mostly because I knew the scheme.

Because I knew the scheme, I felt pain for the farmer that he could not yet understand. Here was this supporting character that's only shortcoming was that he fell for the wrong woman. I liked Bill and Abby in spite of their awful sins, but I really pulled for the farmer. What a great guy! What a raw deal!

A dramatic question was posed by the film (would you push you lover into a new marriage for money?) that reminded me of another dramatic question that still rushes through my mind every so often (The Big Chill asked if you would push your husband into impregnating a friend). These questions wielded much different results in their respective movies. I can assuredly answer "no" to both, but trying to understand why each film's characters said "yes" is where the unique interest lies.

****

Jarhead "When things threaten to happen, I admit I felt what the soldiers in the film felt: a sick anticipation and longing for battle. "

I liked this movie, but it was an overwhelming like when all the elements were in place for a love. I wasn't blown away by this movie. I've seen it twice. The first time I saw it I had high expectations. It didn't meet those expectations. The second time I saw it, I had lowered expectations, but again I was disappointed. But not to the point where I disliked the film. A second viewing only solidified my opinion of the movie.

On the surface, I cannot identify at all with the soldiers in this film. They are young men thirsty for war, for action. When they go to war and it is nothing like the films they saw (an interesting scene takes place during a frenzy at a showing of Apocalypse Now), they feel empty. There is pride in what they are, but a lack of doing what they were trained to do leaves a sour taste in their mouths.

I strongly related once the film took shape. The movie creates an uneasy atmosphere of waiting...waiting to do anything. Things happen, but none of them fit in with the expectations I had from every war film I had ever seen. Jarhead is unlike any war film I have ever seen. The Gulf War is unlike any other war I have seen in film (forget the murder mystery Courage Under Fire). It began and ended in a blur, but the time for the soldiers (at least the soldiers depicted in the film) was slow and tiring. Again, things happen, but they're only stale representations of training, ritualistic lining up and dehydrating, restlessness and bonding for better or for worse. When things threaten to happen, I admit I felt what the soldiers in the film felt: a sick anticipation and longing for battle. Instead, they get showboating officials, men with murdered camels, and the remains of a bombing. It seems they are doomed to narrowly miss the thrill of battle and it makes them stir crazy. And I related watching the film. Like a trained baboon I wished for them to "shoot somebody already".

The performances reflect that restlessness, but the freak outs that occur in opposition to the waiting and disappointments mostly rang false. It was as though the actors didn't know how to get past all that listlessness when they were called to. They tried admirably, but could not raise my attentiveness. Again, I equaled their disappointments.

As a document of that war at that time for those people, it does manage a real sense of authenticity without fully achieving utter truth. A decent film that could have ruled my world if only I wasn't ruined as the soldiers were by the expectations of our popular (and military) culture.

***

Rendition

Political movies are tricky. If they take a stand too quickly and too strongly, they can come off as preachy. Now being preachy is not necessarily a bad thing. It has its place at public meetings, news shows, debates, editorials, and the like. However, bonkinbg someone over the head with a message in a movie is rough. Leaving no room for interpretation is a bad way to construct a film. Still, taking a side should not lead to a viewer to dismiss a movie altogether, especially if that movie is intelligent and provocative in a necessary way. Rendition is just such a movie.

Rendition is a government policy that started in the Clinton administration. Basically, suspected terrorists can be shipped off to other countries and interrogated without being charged or legal counsel. It surely is a product of the times we live in, but to think that this was enacted before September 11 is an eye- opening look at the state of government actions prior to the War on Terror.

Rendition the movie follows four different story lines that intersect in a way that is popular in movies of the last few years (Babel, Crash, etc.). One story follows Anwar El-Ibrahimi (Omar Metwally) a Egyptian family man who has lived in the U.S. for the past twenty years, graduated from an American university, married an American woman (Reese Witherspoon), had a son, and worked as a chemical engineer for many years. He is apprehended on his way home from a conference in North Africa by the U.S. government on suspicions of terrorists activities, flown out of the country, and questioned by Abasi Fawal (Yigal Naor) in a interrogation observed by Douglas Freeman (Jake Gyllenhaal), a U.S. government employee who is promoted after his colleague is killed in a suicide bombing.

The other story follows Fawal's daughter Fatima as she rebels against her father's attempts to marry her off to someone she does not love. She runs away and flees to the arms of her secret boyfriend Khalid (Moa Khouas).

Back in the States, Anwar's wife Isabella (Witherspoon) worries when her husband does not come home. She heads to Washington to seek the help of her old college friend Alan Smith (Peter Sarsgaard) who works for a Senator Hawkins (Alan Arkin). It is from Smith that Isabella and the audience learn (a little too quickly) the meaning of rendition. She works to learn what has happened to her husband and why he was taken away.

Another Senator, Corrine Whitman (Meryl Streep), is in charge of the committee that orders rendition. Whether or not she is right in her thinking, she is definitely shown as the film's villain.

The story revolves around the interrogation/torture in the other country, and Gyllenhaal's character provides the eyes through which we see the atrocities. The film's handling of the torture scenes should be commended. Unlike the recent slew of horror films forcing torture into entertainment, there is no torture glorified or glamorized in Rendition. Whether you agree with torture or not, it is displayed with all its violence and pain. Still, it could have been a lot worse to watch. Even though it was tough to take in, we are not presented with horrible blood splatters or close ups that over-accentuate the acts.

Gyllenhaal's character starts out in the movie much like I did. He was aware of the act of torture and saw it as a unfortunate way to receive life-saving information. He knew what was involved, but until he was forced to see it first hand, he was able to turn away and sleep well at night. When he does come face to face with torture, he is not able to ignore it. When you have to think about it, it hurts.

There is a scene that takes place after several days of torture. Gyllenhaal's character has not handled his observation well. He asks to be left alone with Anwar. He starts out asking for answers. Then he snaps and grabs Anwar forceably by the throat and demands answers. It is a harsh scene, but after thinking about it, I understood what was really happening. Freeman (Gyllenhaal) was begging for an answer because he could not stand the torture any longer. He wanted to go home. He wanted to try to forget. Eventually, he found out he could not forget or ignore what was happening any longer.

The film doesn't really allow for any amazing feats of acting. No one is given juicy scenes to show off or play extreme depth or internalization of their characters. That is okay. Everyone does deliver solid performances. A solid performance by any one member of the amazing cast is better than a amazing performance by any number of performers. No goes above and beyond because no one has to. I hope that director Gavin Hood stretches his casts more in future movies.

The multiple story lines are also not handled as well as they could be. Each are shown with equal importance for two thirds of the movie, but Anwar and Freeman's storyline as well Fatima and Khalid's storyline move into more screen time and the foreground of the film in the last third. The Washington storyline moves into the background and dismisses a key character when it chooses much before it should have.

I was not interested in the Fatima and Khalid storyline for most of the movie before its relevance was made clear in the last act. I would have appreciated a more involving handling earlier on by the writer and director.

I did really like this movie. The connection of all the story lines is solidified in the end and satisfies in a way I was not prepared for by the average first two acts. I think I appreciated the movie as a great conversation starter that made me more aware (albeit in a fictionalized/stylized manner) of problems I was not aware of. It is an interesting film in the way that it evokes a reaction, but does not offer any answers that would help the audience in their next steps. That is part of the reason this politically-minded film avoids the preachiness that derails so many other films.

***1/2

Michael Clayton

Michael Clayton is a top-notch legal thriller from the mind of writer/director Tony Gilroy (he of the Bourne franchise fame). I sat down in my theater seat expecting a solid movie, but what I got was one of the best films I've seen this year.

Michael Clayton (George Clooney) is the protagonist of the title. He is a man down on his luck and searching for a way to keep his head above water after a bar business never gets off the ground. He is a reforming gambler. He is also the go-to "janitor" of one of the biggest law firms.

A janitor is a lawyer who cleans up other lawyers' and clients' messes. He does not go to trial. His job is to make sure everything is not a disaster by the time the transgressions go to trial or avoiding trial altogether.

His current dilemma in the movie is fixing the ruins after one of his colleagues and friends strips naked at a deposition in a three billion dollar lawsuit against a major farming corporation.

It seems that Clayton's friend, played with manic fear, energy, and sparkle in his eyes by former Oscar nominee Tom Wilkinson, went off his medication around the time he had a mental breakdown/epiphany that threatens to destroy the case. Clayton is sent in to do damage control.

The threat is looming over chief council for the corporation played with nervous energy by Tilda Swinton. As she loses hold over the case, she struggles to contain the damage in more questionable ways than Clayton is pursuing.

It seems everybody is unhinging. As Clayton learns more and more about the case, he watches more of his professional and personal life unravel around him. The real mystery of this thriller is not who is going to get hurt or who is at fault for inflicting the damage, but rather what kind of man Michael Clayton is. He becomes faces with a crisis of conscience, which is especially difficult for someone whose conscience has been pushed into the background for so long.

Unlike the John Grisham thrillers that every critic seems to compare Michael Clayton to, Michael Clayton does not use one shred of heavy-handedness or exploitation of its genre conventions. Instead, the film boils slowly at a deliberate pace. Still, I was amazed very early on how tight the film's plot was. There is not an ounce of fat on it.

That is because the film's exposition and characters develop slowly at a natural rate of revelation. Nothing is rushed or forced. Every little detail begins to matter. Not in the way a mystery unravels, but in a way that the details tie together motives, morality, and world of the characters.

Clooney and Wilkinson deliver Oscar-caliber performances in Michael Clayton. Their scenes together burst with tense verbal fireworks. Gilroy and the actors are aware of the necessity of good characters.

Clooney especially gets to display some of the intensity he showed in his Oscar-winning role in Syriana two years ago. He is at his best handling heavy dialogue with either intensity or cool levity. The former is the case here. He does not disappoint.

Eventually, the film culminates in a showdown too simple and familiar to satisfy my growing love for the film. However, it follows suit with the importance of details. Everything before it leads to the finale. Still, the script, which had been so effortlessly smart and fresh throughout, showed a bit of strained effort at the conclusion.

It is still a tad early to be making top ten lists for 2007, but I would not be surprised if Michael Clayton makes its way onto mine.

****

Trainspotting

I must start off this review with a disclaimer:
I am a huge fan of Danny Boyle's work. I tend to use hyperbole when criticizing his work. I am able to find flaws. I don't like The Beach or a Life Less Ordinary.
And so I begin.

Trainspotting is a revelation of sorts for me. I realized I can see a movie in my youth as a disappointment and rewatch it as a treasure. Trainspotting is just such a movie.

I've complained about Ewan McGregor before on this site. I think it started when I reviewed Stay. I claimed he's too over-expressive. In Stay, he certainly was. But he really delivered an amazing performance in Trainspotting as Renton. I think what impressed me was that he was able to play the contradiction of the character so well. Renton is smart enough to see through all the glossy glamor of the drug world and the smiles and cheers of his mates, but he sticks with both. He leaves each. He comes back. Or sometimes each comes back to him. There's a loyalty to the character that can be almost maddening at times. Yet, he is prone to steal, lie, and curse his mates. He knows what he should do. He rattles off a list of answers to his dilemma in a short spark of dialogue at the beginning of the film. All are good reasons to "shape up" (as my mom used to say), but as Renton states, "Who needs reasons when you've got heroine?"

That's kind of the duality of the film. On the one hand, it portrays witty, rag-tag characters enjoying the high life, drugs that is, brick, scag, what have you. Sure, it's hard to watch them stick those needles in their arms, but they sure seem to be having a blast. I laughed. I've been trained to. Stoner comedies are run-of-the-mill now. If movies have taught me anything, it's that stoned people are funny. Trainspotting plays that up for almost half of the movie until the wages of sin become much, much clearer.

Characters talk about how getting high is better than sex. Their reactions don't deny this idea. But it is when they're getting high as a infant crawls around a floor covered in needles that you start to get the point. It's not funny. Even when the most famous scene takes place (where Renton emerges from inside a disgusting toilet triumphantly because he's found the drugs he shat out, I cringed. I really did. I got a bit sick to my stomach. I love the scene. Visually, it's unforgettable. I laughed. It's absurd. But the point of fact is the guy dived into the worst toilet in Scotland to fish out drugs that had been up his bum. Disgusting. The point where the film really switches gear from good times to bad times is when the same infant who had been crawling through trouble dies of neglect. What is the first reaction they all have. Horror. Intense fear. Then they shoot up. No calling the cops, an ambulance, their moms and dads, or a shady alleyman who can dispose of the body. They just sit on the floor waiting for the heroine to cook.

Even though the film portrays this depravity, it never really completely lets go of its humor. Horrible visions are counteracted with laughs in later scenes. I'm not sure whether to applaud or admonish that, but I do know I would have cried myself to sleep without it. And like Danny Boyle is prone to do, the film manages to end on a lighter note than the misery that proceeds it. A character promises he's going to be better, stop messing up, and make things right. I smiled, but all along I knew he'd be right back at square one soon enough. So, the movie provides the smile, but doesn't trick anyone. I don't think it tries to.

I enjoyed the acting. McGregor, Johnny Lee Miller, and Ewen Bremner have never been better. I also enjoyed seeing Kevin McKidd as Tommy. His character begins saying that a high is better than sex, but later in the movie his eyes betray his words as he becomes stricken with AIDS. Watching Robert Carlyle at work as Begbie is exhilerating mostly because he was shocking, crazy, interesting, scary, and funny at alternating times, though I never knew which Begbie would jump out at me at any given second. It's a performance that is ripe for showboating. I can't really excuse Carlyle from falling into that trap, but he can be brilliant in the role when he wanted to.

And ole' Boyle. Now I shall praise in hyperbole. The man knows how to carry humor into the depths of despair and fear. Visually, he always makes interesting movies. Trainspotting is no expception. Fans still talk about dozens of shots for a reason: the cinematography and creativity visually are stunning and instantly memorable. As far as handling his actors, he let Carlyle go a bit too much, as evidenced in his interview on the DVD. I also think he found a good tone with the humor. I laughed a lot out of nervousness, and I think that's a hard reaction to earn justly.

I'm a fan. It's an excellent movie. Cheers, mates!

****

The Last Days of Disco

The pleasure of watching a Whit Stillman film is not reliving my past or seeing my future. The youth he portrays in his films is very different from mine. I am not bourgeoisie. I am not in love with disco. I am not from a rich family. I have not read many facinating books. I am not like the characters depicted in these films (Barcelona, Metropolitan, The Last Days of Disco), well, not really. But I recognize these types. I know people, you know? And the realities of the people in Stillman films are not all that different from the realities of people I know, and, well, me too. I admit. I'm like these Disco lovers. There is wonderful pleasure in watching Whit Stillman's work.

Like the group of revolving friends and lovers in The Last Days of Disco, I too have experienced the need to fit in, or in the case of these characters, getting in. They're too self-absorbed to realize that the place they want to get and stay in - the place where they have fun, dance, drink, fall in and out of love, be good friends, and be bad friends - is dying. Disco and this club that they frequent symbolizes the folly and seriousness of youth. And not adolescence. Not being in college. Like few filmmakers, Stillman has a keen sense of the way post-college feels (or what I imagine it feels like). Along with other film's depictions of youth, The Last Days of Disco portrays the urge to fill others expectations of you, or maybe to change how others see you, or maybe even to change the way you see yourself. All of the above. None of the above.

The truth is, these characters only flirt with change. They approach it, but like one character says about the Tramp of Lady and the Tramp, no one really changes. Their context can change, but people never really do. It's a cynical view of society, but the film backs it up.

A Stillman staple is a witty, sophisticated banter/dialogue between characters. What's intriguing is that I've never really heard people in real life talk this way. Even the most mundane, accidental conversation seems planned. But it's never forced. And somehow I believe it. Somehow the reality and truth always shines during even the most artifical scenes.

Sample witty dialogue: Des McGrath: "Yuppie stands for 'young upwardly mobile professional'. Nightclub flunkie is not a professional category. I wish we were yuppies. Young, upwardly mobile, professional. Those are good things, not bad things."

The Last Days of Disco is Whit Stillman's best film. Not only does he guide his best cast to date, but his organization and handling of the distinctive personalities of the film's multiple characters is amazing. Each is complex. Each is real (you know, in that sort of artifical way I semi-explained earlier). And though his other films showed a insight into the life of the privileged, he has never before so accurately displayed an atmosphere. Apparently, Disco was contagious. I never got it before. "Disco?" I asked. "Ugh! Yuck!" I shouted. But it looks like fun. There, I said it. "Disco looks like fun."

****1/2

You Can Count on Me

If for nothing else, see this movie for the performances. Mark Ruffalo, Laura Linney, Rory Culkin, and Matthew Broderick are wonderful. Family relationships are probably the most portrayed out of any relationship in cinema (except maybe for a romance), so there can be an attitude of "been there, see that" when it comes to those relationships. But it is rare that a movie so accurately captures the frustrations, undying love, anger and other emotions that come from the ties that bind. I utterly believed these people could be related. Sibling relationships take may different directions in cinema, but it is so very precious when the back and forths of Sammy and Terry are brutally, lovingly, and truthfully portrayed.

I hold Mark Ruffalo's performance as Terry as one of the best performances in film that I have ever seen. There's so much rawness in his Terry. He is quick to anger, but displays a tenderness that makes the character complex. For the longest time, through 13 Going on 30, Windtalkers, and the other peformances since Terry, I was worried Ruffalo could never match the skill he brought to this performance. Then I saw Zodiac and breathed a sigh of relief. Both the lead performances are very likable. Laura Linney hasn't matched her great performance since her first Oscar Nomination, but she'll always have Sammy. Her loving, head-strong, and nurturing character is one for the books.

This movie is full of great scenes where characters just talk. They sit, they stand, they lean on something, but most importantly they talk. They are witty, they are broken, they are hurtful, they are sorry, but most importantly, they are real. Put Linney and Ruffalo on screen and just watch them click, watch them work with each other, challenging the skills of the other and always meeting those challenges. It's wonderful casting and excellent writing. I want to take the scenes, the moments, and frame them and hang them up on my wall next to whatever art and movie memorabilia I have accumulated over the years.

I also want to note how well the movie portrays religion. The writer-director, Kenneth Lonergan, plays a priest in the movie. Even though he is quiet and somewhat aloof, he represents a man of the cloth offering good, solid advice, and truly searching to help and guide the people around him even if it means they find their meaning of life outside where he has found his. Believers are shown as fallible, struggling with their faith and sin. There is shame, regret, and guilt. There is love, trust, and hope. The film is able to show Christianity and not focus on it, to show that Sammy is more than just a church-goer, that Terry is more than just a non-church goer, and that it's hard to be good when it's not Sunday morning.

****1/2

Sunshine

All hail, Danny Boyle! May he reign for as long as he lives!

Sunshine finds a way to make space beautiful and terrifying at the same time. Out in the middle of God's creation seperated from home. When things go wrong (and they do) you're on your own. On your own to save the world. From a solar winter. During which little kids wear winter coats and make snowmen. The latter being the vision of the terrible world a dying star has made. It's hardly what I expected to see after all the hub bub in space. It seemed much worse up there - losing oxygen, fires, decoupled airlocks, faulty sun shields, and what have you. That's where the real danger is.

There's lots of beauty in the film. Even when the film starts to race near the end to build toward its dramatic finale, it finds time to flash pictures of space, the sun, and the scientists trying to survive both.

The film was primarily story driven. There's so much going on in Sunshine that it is difficult at first to get more than a surface introduction to the film's characters and their personalities. Certain actors get chances to shine (pun intended), slowly building their characters as the action builds along side them. Cliff Curtis (Three Kings, Bringing Out the Dead), Chris Evans (Fantastic Four franchise, Not Another Teen Movie, Cellular), Rose Byrne (28 Weeks Later, Troy), and Cillian Murphy (hail him while you're at it) all get their time in the sun (pun intended). I expect good things from Curtis and Murphy, but I was pleasantly surprised by Evans and Byrne. Each of these two performers have been likable enough in the past without actually standing out among their peers. But they're good in Sunshine. Evans is macho, but bears the weight of the seriousness of his crew's task and is forced to voice his unpopular opinions in order to keep them blind to all else but that all-important mission: re-ignite the dying sun. Byrne gets to play the sweet natured scientist perhaps too human to save humanity.

And well, Murphy...he can't seem to help but turn in wonderful performance after performance after performance. He's always interesting, always stretching while appearing to be moving effortlessly through his characters' facial expressions (those eyes!). But what really gets me every time is his voice, how he can turn a line over with his tongue to inject all sorts of subtlety and emotion into his words. He also has what many actors and actresses would kill for: screen presence. When he is on screen, I am watching him. There's a lot going on in the film, lots of interesting developments along the journey to the sun, but I was never more interested as when Cillian was on screen acting. It's more than charisma. I think Evans has that. It's a magnetism that can only be observed without truly being explained.

After all that gushing, I must reinterate that the stars of the film are actually the story and the visuals. They pack a punch. Alex Garland, the screenwriter, knows how to plot a suspense movie. He also knows how to have characters spout out science jargon and make it sound real, credible, and utterly of the moment. There's a lot of mumbo jumbo, but I was never lost.

And those visuals! Near the beginning of the film a character talks about how darkness is the lack of everything, it is nothing. But the beauty of the light is that it fills that seemingly endless space. It washes over nothing and creates something. I heard the words and I liked them, but the filmmakers went further and greater and kept showing me time again how exciting and scary that creation is.

I drove to Cleveland to see the film and I am fully prepared to drive back to see it a second time. For those interested, Cedar Lee is a neat little theater in Cleveland Heights that shows indie movies year round.

I recommend ending your pre-viewing experience here. Don't read anymore reviews, feature articles or interviews, or those great trailers off of Apple.com. They're all great, but Danny Boyle gives away too much when he speaks about the movie and the trailer gives away key plot points all the way into the third act of the film.
Be safe. Watch the movie first. Protect your viewing experience. The power is yours!

****

Danny Boyle Interview on Rottentomatoes.com

Rottentomatoes.com recently posted this round table interview with the 28 Days Later, Trainspotting, The Beach, and Shallow Grave director, Danny Boyle. The subject is mostly his new movie Sunshine with some SPOILERS included that you have to skip over.

Fracture

As I was watching Fracture, I kept comparing Ryan Gosling and Anthony Hopkin's sparring to another teriffic acting duel: Denzel Washington and Ethan Hawke in Training Day. Sure, the plots are nothing alike, but I was reminded of how Hopkin's and Washington did a damn fine job of chewing scenery (and I liked it) in their respective roles. However, I was drawn more to the nuanced, subtle performances by Ryan Gosling and Ethan Hawke in their respective roles. They were all the more amazing because their counterparts were trying so very hard to be amazing.

I pretty much loved Fracture. Gosling is the most exciting young actor out there, and he delivers another great performance here. Hopkins does a good job too being bad and smart and loving it.

I felt really tense and on the edge at my seat at several points during the movie, and that genuinely surprised me in a legal thriller.

My only complaint, a minor and unsure one, is that the solving of the mystery at the end seemed quaint, almost out of a Matlock or Murder She Wrote episode. It worked. It surprised me. But I wanted a little more pizazz after all those acting aerobatics that preceeded it.

****

Wonder Boys

SPOILERS



I was thinking about Wonder Boys and its themes. I thought I should write a little about it, but rest assured that a full review will be posted some time this summer.

It took me a few times to really figure out the message of the film. This film used to be my #1 favorite (now it's Magnolia), so I have watched it quite a few times. But it took me three or four times to really get it. It's about making choices. Grady Tripp avoids making choices in his writing (his tenent Hannah tells him so) and he is unwilling to choose a real life with his mistress. His life is a mess, just like the always-growing mountain of pages he calls his book. When he starts making choices, things start straightening out.

There's also the familiar theme of "saving" someone and/or yourself. Grady tells his transvestite passenger that he has to go rescue James Leer. He/she answers that he looks like he could use some rescueing of his own. He rescues and then abandons Leer. But he makes a choice, his first real choice in a series of choices that bring him back around. He rescues Leer again. And this choice starts the road to responsibility. He takes responsibility for his student. He owns up to his affair. He chooses a life with someone he loves. Sure, the film sort of says adultery is okay as long as it's with someone you love, but he comes clean to the husband of his mistress. That's better, right?

Great Movie.

****1/2

The Game

SPOILERS

I've watched a couple of movies in the last week with a Wizard of Oz Syndrome. Heck, in The Game Michael Douglas even said he's pulling back the curtain because he wants to "meet the Wizard."

"And what is the Wizard of Oz Syndrome?" you may ask. Well, it's when you flip around the majority of the reality of everything preceeding the big reveal, the moment our hero or heroine wakes up and says, "I've had the oddest dream. And you were there. And you were there. And..." That is the case with The Game, albeit with a thriller twist. And like most WoOS movies, the satisfaction is in the ending. If it doesn't work, the film doesn't work.

The ending in the Game works for me. It rendered everything before it implausible, but I gladly hand over my disbelief in return for a mind-bending thrill ride with one of my favorite actors, Michael Douglas, and the handiwork of director David Fincher.

I must admit, the film loses some quality of experience on repeated viewings, but very few movies can rival the excitement I felt when I first watched it. First, problems. I found some of the hijinks to fall a little flat this time through. "Hijinks in a thriller?" you might say. Consider them "thriller hijinks." Michael Douglas gets tossed into this game that really kicks off with might be considered an unorthodox "meet-cute" scene not that much different from your average, run-of-the-mill romantic comedy. Only, in the Game, the guy and gal are being chased by police and angry dogs. The snappy dialogue between Douglas and the woman in the scene, played by Deborah Kara Unger, is a real bump out of the film. First, it's not realistic. Second, it's too cute. This movie is actually really dark and that scene really sticks out as one of those "Sesame Street - one of these things is not like the others" moments. Another one of those moments occurs when Douglas interacts with his televison's personality.

The implausibility of the plot does not keep me from loving this film, but it can prove bothersome when the big reveal happens. Even though I labeled this post with a "SPOILER" warning, I'm not going to ruin the twists and turns of the story. Just know that you do have to lay down your better judgment for a moment. It's not difficult to do, I swear.

The film really hits its stride after Douglas starts to unravel the mystery in Christine's apartment. The action picks up, the stakes rise, and all is right in the world of entertainment.

Pluses are many. Michael Douglas gets to do some of his familiar but amazing acting tricks. He plays the rich sour puss. He plays the man at the end of his desperation rope. He plays the vengeful spirit for all its worth. He does all this with considerable skill, which makes the "thriller hijinks" stand out all the more. But he is the audience's eyes and ears into this labyrinth of a mystery. And he portrays all the desperation, frustration, and confusion I felt as I watched The Game for the first time. Because I felt so connected to his character throughout the film, I felt the ending was justified and earned. So, the success of the film should be placed on Douglas' shoulders.

Sean Penn gets to do his familiar acting tricks. He plays it smooth, then lets out his whining shouts in that warbling foul-mouthed child's voice of his. But I like the guy and his talent. His role is small, but Penn knows how to support the lead. Sure, he chews some scenery, but there are few who I would rather watch chow down.

Fincher is the other driving force in the film. He doesn't appear for one second in the film, but his eye for staging a scene is always there. He uses a lot of low angles, hard lighting, and adds a gray tint to the movie. It adds to the already dark tone of the film. The low angles, coupled with various skewed angles portray the confusion of the film. The lighting and camera work during the scenes that take place at night are really remarkable considering many of the key scenes occur outside after dark. Fincher knows how to get the most out of his actors. Much has been written about his obsessive nature as a filmmaker, but I think the results are enough to excuse any hard headedness the guy throws around. He makes good movies. Even when they're so-so (Panic Room), they're made better than most of the movies out there. I say this because he knows how to construct a film. The credits show puzzle pieces splitting apart, and that is essentially what his films are - carefully designed puzzles that he can seperate and put back together at his choosing. The guy really knows how to build suspense and capitalize on the emotions of his audience.

Another big plus is the score. It contains one main theme, but that little piece of music accentuates the chills and thrills that are peppered throughout the film. Timed perfectly with the action on screen, the score often much scarier than what a piece of music has any right to be.

Themes...Well, the movie centers around a "remember what's really important in life" theme. Added to that is the idea that your life is your own; and death doesn't have to be a monkey on your back. While these themes are not exactly subtle, they are nowhere near a hinderance to the enjoyment of the film. And I can't really argue with them. But the real reward for living is the embrace of the good you have and could have if only you would let yourself have it. And it needs to be said even if it's shoved in your face a bit.

***1/2