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

On Watchmen...How This Fan Watches the Watchmen by A. Gates

About a half hour into Watchmen, as the rude and crude Comedian was being laid to rest with Simon and Garfunkel's "The Sounds of Silence" playing sweetly in the background I thought to myself, "Oh, no. This is self-important pretentious posturing." Then, fairly, I thought back to the source graphic novel - the comic geek's War and Peace if you will. "Was that self-important pretentious posturing as well?"

The truth is, these concerns quickly subsided as I again surrendered myself to the story and, in this oddest of cases for this comic geek. the incredibly reverent storytelling. Watchmen, the graphic novel and the film, are self-important pieces of fiction stemming from the arrogance of the brillant weirdo Alan Moore. But, as anyone who really works through the deconstruction of the superhero myth that Alan Moore laid out 20+ years ago, it is objectively important. A social commentary, epically told superhero story with heroes afflicted with the human condition in all its debilitating glory.

Rorshach, easily my favorite character in both mediums, is a psychopathic sleuth with a brutal, uncompromising sense of justice. He's a jarring character, an socially inept weirdo in a costume who is also a mentally and emotionally scarred deviant working outside the law. On the page, his words are put in scratchy, sketchy balloons and we as readers are left to imagine what sort of unusual voice would deliver such oddly drawn speech patterns. And perhaps that's where the gift of the film begins. Jackie Earle Haley, that newly rediscovered talent from the 70s, was nominated for a Best Supporting Actor Oscar in 2006 for his work in Little Children. I thought the whole performance was overrated. After seeing his work as Rorshach, I reconsider. You see, his characters, although both scarred social outcasts, are on opposite ends of the performance spectrum. His brutality, his growl, his stiff anger as Rorshach is the foil for his Little Children's character's weakness, sadness, and quiet anger. And that growl(!), I am more than pleased to say, is exactly how I imagined Rorshach would sound even if it never occurred to me until I heard Haley's first words in the trailer.

But each of these performers in the movie playing these characters firmly placed in my memory is for better or for worse the perfect person to play their part (save maybe Carla Gugino as Sally Jupiter, playing it campy). I say for better or for worse because naturally some of these characters work better on the page than on the screen. Laurie Jupiter (aka Silk Spekter II), is one of those characters. And I won't fault Malin Akerman for any of it, though many reviews I have read turn quickly on her. She fits the part to a tee and executes it wholley reverently. But something about Laurie fits within comic panels better than the confines of the silver screen. As the naive and sweetly sexy ingenue heroine acting as knowing commentary on the comic book medium, Laurie Jupiter works. But that role in a film, that medium where we haven't seen that obligatory gal in spandex to the same effect, the character seems an odd fit. And to see her and her mother as the transition from the Golden Age to whatever the geeks are calling this age makes eerie sense in the comics and very little on film where the Golden Age has all but been ignored completely.

Kudos to Patrick Wilson, Haley, Billy Crudup, Jeffrey Dean Morgan, and Matthew Goode for their insight into bringing the pages and characters to life. Each is an uncanny fit for their character counterparts and whomever cast this film has to be pat on the back. Haley and Crudup are the standouts receiving all scant critical praise, and deservedly so. Crudup, in particular, delivers a performance of tremendous subtlety and restraint (albeit through a CGI avatar). His character is more than a comment on superheroes. Dr. Manhattan is a comment on religion and on God seen through a glass darkly. The insights, while not my own on this subject, are fascinating and bracing. It's a difficult character to bring to life, but Crudup and Snyder's team of special effects wizards more than conquer the challenge. Crudup's Dr. Manhattan, perhaps even more so than in his graphic novel incarnation, is an indelible film creation.

Zach Snyder and his screenwriters David Hayter and Alex Tse are aware of how to tell the story in this medium. The unnecessary parts of the graphic novel (or, for the fanboys who just gasped at the hint of anything in Watchmen being unnecessary, "medium-specific") are left out and the good stuff is left in. The big change to the ending pleased me the most. The crux of the graphic novel is perfect for that medium - a ugly monster spelling possible doom for the world and our heroes. But that doesn't work on the big screen where even the most outlandish of villains (I'm looking at you, Willem Dafoe as Green Goblin, and you, Colin Farrell as Bullseye) are more real than what is depicted in the last fourth of the graphic novel. So, bravo for the change. There's the fact that it is minor yet still makes the whole calamity at end actually work. The Black Freighter allergorical interludes and newstand gang on that iconic corner are largely absent from the big screen version. Good. These were my least favorite parts of the graphic novel and have no place in the big screen story. After all, we're watching the story of the Watchmen and there's enough of that story to adequately fill its runtime and more.

I like Zach Snyder. With Dawn of the Dead and now Watchmen, he has proven to be a visually savvy storyteller with a leaning towards the sensational. But anyone who has seen 300, fans and non-fans alike, can tell you he knows nothing of subtlety. His fetishizing of slo-motion and violence in 300 isn't at full-throttle in Watchmen, but he certainly isn't afraid to push the limits. The violence is brutal and graphic, but he eases up on his slo-mo habit enough to keep Watchmen watchable.

I was worried after I finished reading Watchmen for the first time last Spring. "How can they make this movie? No one will want to see it?" I say this knowing that, like me, there were leagues of fanboys frothing at the mouth at the mere prospect of a big screen adaptation. The "no one" in question is the general public, the ones who go to see the Spider-man, Batman, or (Heaven forbid) the Fantastic Four movies but more than likely would not care to see their heroes deconstructed. There was talk of this public being ready for a movie like Watchmen after the success of The Dark Knight, but I knew and you will know that this is a hasty comparison. Bruce Wayne as Batman is haunted and conflicted, but he is not the deranged Rorshach. If you could love the Joker (and some of us really did), then maybe you'd like Rorshach, but not as hero. In the end of the Dark Knight, after all the darkness and despair, Batman rides off as the "hero" in every sense of the word. In Watchmen, "hero" takes on its own meaning and the term "anti-hero" doesn't fully capture the complexity of its characters. Watchmen is not The Dark Knight, and I expect to see a sharp drop off in box office after all the marketing hoopla and hype dies down and that general public tells their general public pals it wasn't what they wanted.

This calls into question the audience. Who is this movie for? Zach Snyder has said that the movie is for fans first. I believe him. An editor for Rottentomatoes.com, after being told by another reviewer that non-fans won't be able to follow the epic story and mythology, said something along the lines that they, like she, won't care to. That's probably the case. So, what do we have? We have Warner Brothers thinking a $150 million dollar (reportedly) production budget (along with anywhere from 20-35+ million dollars for marketing) for a film taken from a cult comic book with critical acclaim will appeal to its targeting ticket paying audience. And they're wrong. The movie is good for me. I love the movie. And Warner Brothers will likely make enough money through box office receipts and DVD sales and countless special editions to make a profit. But in today's Hollywood, making $100 million dollars domestically isn't enough. Time will tell if Watchmen is viewed as a success for Warner Brothers. My question is what happens when they want to make something faithfully for us fanboys next time? I don't think it'll happen so easily (a joke if you consider Watchmen's 20 year production hell).

Let's just say for now, for me, I love it. I got chills several times. The kind where you see something imagined realized for the first time. And that's a special feeling Watchmen offers me and my geek brethren that we might have to wait another 20to feel again. Watchmen has always been something you finish with your emotions deflated and exhausted and your head spinning around the implications of it ending. Hopefully, not every one will leave the theater talking about what's in the movie and what isn't or what they wish it would have been like, but rather discussing that ending. After all the hoopla and hype are gone, that ending resonates over even the harshest of critics.

****


Joe Morgenstern Wall Street Journal Watchmen Review 3/6/09
Roger Ebert Watchmen Review 3/4/09
Box Office Mojo Weekend Report 3/8/09

RocknRolla

It's nice to see Guy Ritchie get back to his bread and butter, what has affectionately called Mockney crime films. He showed his skill with Lock, Stock and Snatch, then slid away. But RocknRolla, while not necessarily superior to its Mockney predecessors, is again a testament to his exciting talent. The excitement generated is inorganic and a kin to a "fizzy drink." But like my revered can of Diet Coke cooling in the fridge, RocknRolla is exceptionally made. There are a few standout scenes viscerally like the second Wild Bunch robbery, two heavies that won't go down easily, and the Johnny Quid club kill set to the "Rock and Roll Queen" song. Memorable adrenaline shots to the veins. It may not be fair to judge RocknRolla against Ritchie's past filmography. I should judge each film on its own merits, but I'm not gonna. Rocknrolla falls somewhere behind his first two films, but clearly excels over his most recent two ventures. It doesn't have the humor of Lock, Stock or Snatch (you probably won't hear me randomly quoting RocknRolla to pals), but it's a tightly plotted crime picture with finesse and character derived from its writer director and actors. It gets off to a rocky start with large amounts of voice over to hold our hands through the exposition and introduction of the characters, but finds its groove somewhere in the second act. And it just keeps getting better as the characters' situations keep getting worse. The cast's work is memorable and will bring me back for any of the proposed sequels if they ever actually get off the ground. RocknRolla also signals the break through of Toby Kebbel who plays thee rocknrolla Johnny Quid, who is all attitude and mood and a junkie weak enough to crumble and strong enough to strike the fear of Moses into you with a stare and twitch of his pencil.

***1/2

Unknown

The film is a construct of its conceit, and therein lies it's chief attraction. Synopsis:

Five men waking up in a chemical warehouse and realizing they don't know who they are and how they got there. But through time they deduct that some of them are hostages and some are kidnappers. The men now must figure out who is who as they've learned the lead kidnapper is on his way and plans to kill the hostages.
-Yahoo Movies

It brings the best part of the first Saw to mind, but Unknown has a solid cast and better than average plotting. Its setup and thrust into the action and confusion is thrilling, but the film struggles to maintain that level of excitement and believability through the climax. Jim Caviezel, Greg Kinnear, Joe Pantoliano, Jeremy Sisto, and Barry Pepper (you go, boy!) are the five men and Bridget Moynahan is the fretful wife of one of the hostages on the outside. The writer and the director aren't aces at their crafts (as evidenced by cliched visual cues and slighted yet prominent characters), but there is enough mystery and slight of hand to keep the audience guessing. Even when I had it figured out, the film had one twist left. Though that last twist may be to the film and audience's detriment. It added apathy to what had been up to that point my mild enjoyment. Still, I can recommend the film to fans of the cast and someone looking for something new on the shelves of Blockbuster (do people still go to video stores?) on a Saturday night.

I will say this: Jim Caviezel's performance in Unknown shows a vague but familiar hint of the untold potential he showed first in Terrence Malick's The Thin Red Line. I don't think Caviezel can realize that potential again unless he is revived by another visionary director with the right part.

***

The Good German "(Maguire's) adhering too much to the contemporary view of classic cinema - no subtlety, scenery chewing, melodrama."

They don't make 'em like they used to, but that sure doesn't stop them from trying. I am more a fan of contemporary cinema than any of the black and white Hollywood hey day movies. I've tried to branch out in recent years, even making a summer noir series of my own with Laura, The Maltese Falcon, The Third Man, and Casablanca. I mention Casablanca not because it's a great example of noir, but because The Good German wants to be like it so very, very much (only with more swearing). It's a lofty goal it cannot reach.

The Good German is really only an excellent imitation of those melodramatic, love torn, post- and pre-war film noirs. It offers nothing to set it apart from anything that has ever preceded it. Instead, it boldly goes where many, many films have gone before it. Normally, this would be a major detraction (and it still kind of is), but The Good German really wants to be those movies you saw before. It loves those movies. It hopes to Moses you love those movies, too.

I had problems from the start with Tobey Maguire. He must have been told to "explore the studio space" because he's adhering too much to the contemporary view of classic cinema - no subtlety, scenery chewing, melodrama. He plays an unsavory character with constant strain in his voice and face. He can't handle the dialogue or the character. It's outside the realm of his abilities. Hey, I love the guy (Go, James Leer!), but he's pretty awful in this movie. Luckily, he doesn't factor much into the major storyline later in the movie.

Thankfully, George Clooney and Cate Blanchett know what they're doing...most of the time. They handle the dialogue pretty well, save the normal difficulties you'd expect from actors trying to speak old timey/edgy/cool dialogue from a script emulating someone else's script. Clooney and Blanchett's scenes together are the best in the movie and I think everybody knows it because they get tossed in each others way a lot.

Clooney doesn't have to do anything he hasn't had to do before, and he appears to be the most comfortable in the world of the film. And the world of the film and the camera love him...a little too much. The camera almost fetishizes Clooney in that soldier uniform and hat - from behind, from afar, from above, from the ground, from the front (oh, it loves looking at ol' Clooney's dashing hero gaze). Clooney does have trouble in one scene in particular where he has to grab Blanchett by the arms and shake her and say, "Why won't you let me me help you!" in his best noir impression. That's the thing with The Good German - it's more than happy just to be an impression of anything real though its depict real moments in history.

Blanchett has a German accent throughout and it's really only a glaring bump because it's Cate Blanchett speaking in it. The same could be said for her Katherine Hepburn accent in The Aviator. I just think the accents are "so not her" that they remove me from the world of the movie. She does deliver the most consistent performance. She knows how to milk a scene for all it's simmering heat (milk the heat?). I never really think of females as brooding, but Blanchett certainly does brood.

Story stuff: Blanchett plays Lena, this German femme fatale that was so memorable and alluring in a pre-war affair with Jake (Clooney) that he purposefully heads back to Germany after the war to find her. The big problem for me is that she's not really all that great. I can't really imagine what's so great about her that all these men are wanting her so much. For Tully (Maguire), it's clear his thrill is in possessing her; but for Jake, it seems he's helping her out of some nostalgia for feelings that I can't imagine pretty much anyone having for her.
(edit: Perhaps this is the point the movie is trying to make - the woman Jake fell in love with has been ruined by the war.)

Also, Clooney gets involved in three skirmishes in his hunt for a mysterious man everyone's after. He gets beat up pretty bad by his assailants, but they just leave him there writhing in pain or knocked out or what have you. Nobody ever really gets the idea that "Hey, this guy's always turning up and gumming up the works...maybe we oughtta kill the jerk." He dusts himself off and goes back to the search.

Also, that ending! No! Don't do it! It involves a revelation that should have happened earlier, and not so awkwardly spoken or located. The movie should have ending in the crowd of all the people. Whenever I watch the movie again, I'm going to stop it there. That's a decent movie. It's still pretty decent anyways, but it would have been decenter (decenter?).

But, lo and behold, I am recommending this movie. I really enjoyed the entire second act and much of the third. Once Maguire faded into the background and the intrigue really started, I committed to the movie and was mostly satisfied despite all the words above to the contrary. It's a solid movie. I commend its ambition. It's hard to call a movie that emulates other movies ambitious, but it's really quite an undertaking in this day and age to evoke the atmosphere and spirit of another day and age.

Clooney's good. Blanchett's good. Maguire's bad, but the rest of the supporting cast is good in spite of him. I actually even liked the story for its simplistic storyline that masqueraded as a complicated web.

I LOVED the cinematography. If I loved the movie, I'd find a way to make a poster of some of the shots and put them up on my wall. Gorgeous black and white picture.

So...

***

The Pope of Greenwich Village

The Pope of Greenwich Village is about Charlie (Mickey Rourke) a cool Italian New Yorker trying to get by and move up. The only thing standing in his way is his cousin...his obnoxious, cowardly, big time wannabe, dim-witted cousin Paulie (Eric Roberts). But, hey, he's family, right?

Paulie's the perpetual screw up who doesn't even realize he's a screw up. He screws up and can't say he screwed up. Charlie takes care of him, humors him, and watches out for the guy. One man can only take so much, but Charlie sticks with Paulie because they're not only pals (best friends even) but also family. So, even when the fairly stupid cousin brings a fairly simple heist, Charlie goes in. Turns out the heist wasn't nearly as easy as Paulie made it out to be.

Mickey Rourke was reborn on my TV screen during The Pope of Greenwich Village. There was no more mutant face or smoker's growl. Just charming, smooth, cool as ice though guy Mickey - the way it should be always as never shall be again. There was a time when Rourke was going to be big. Pope was part of that ladder to the top.

Eric Roberts is out of control, let off his leash to run wild. Sometimes that's good and sometimes bad, but it seems that the role was made for show-stopping, scenery-chewing, stand-on-the-tips-of-your-toes theatrics. And in that way, Roberts serves his purpose.

Daryl Hannah played Charlie's girlfriend. She usually bothers me, mostly because I think she looks manish, but she's solid enough in the supporting role.

A problem for the movie is that there are scenes that are too big for everybody's britches - too much music, too much theatrics, too much spiked punch.

However, some scenes are tight. Watching Charlie getting ready to make a big impression and swaying to Sinatra, having a verbal and physical sparring with Hannah, and especially his "Pope of Greenwich Village" moment - all memorable for the best reasons and all involving Mickey Rourke. He never made it all the way to the top. He made sure of that, but it's sure fun to watch him on the way up there.

***

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 Perfect Score

Ah, the SATs. How can a group of teens with different dreams for the future band together to steal the answers and beat the system? Humorlessly.

I caught this movie Friday night on TBS. I should have gone to bed. Somehow I excuse myself from putting the movies I watch on late nights on the weekend through the same standard set I employ during the week. I'll sit through much worse films at 2 am on a Saturday morning than I would at 7:15 pm on Friday night. And I don't know why. It's almost always a mistake.

One such mistake was watching The Perfect Score. It had a lot going for it. Scarlett Johanson (who has been good in movies such as Lost in Translation, Ghost World, and Match Point), Erika Christensen (who was good in Traffic), and Chris Evans (who surprised me with solid work in Sunshine) all have major roles. Well, okay. That's pretty much all it had going for it.

The scheme is lame and would never work, not even in my wildest dreams. The cast of misfits and popular kids never gel as a acting team. In fact, three of the performers should be ashamed of their performances in the film. Bryan Greenburg, Darius Miles (who, granted, is not a professional actor), and Leonardo Nam are awful. Everyone else is bad, but Greenburg, Miles, and Nam are truly awful. Nam in particular is all bravado and hi-yucks as the stoner of the crew. He sets the tone for the movie. Any easy joke available will be made. The movie is as smart as a stoner in the middle of a long day of bong-induced pleasure.

Even though the movie hints at the desire to look at the complexity of those high school-types that we know all too well, it fails. Everyone ends up being the sum of what we already know about them. Even as the characters change near the end (which they do all at the same time oddly enough), they still remain the products of the writers' memories of high school and certainly movies set in high school (they reference The Breakfast Club). But rather than exploring teenagers through in-depth conversation as in TBC (except maybe a few on rooftops or in the woods), we learn of these students' "complexities" through this hair-brained scheme.

Ah, the scheme. Even though the writers' put forth a lot of effort into making the heist of the answers exciting with close calls, alarms, and setbacks, I was bored. When they decide to steal the questions and complete the test as a team after a setback, I cringed. They'll beat the system by taking the test? Yahoo!

And you know some of these teens have to hook up! It wouldn't be a teen movie if nobody kissed or tightly embraced each other. Even The Breakfast Club fall into that mold.

Do they take their team answers and "cheat" on the test? Do they realize their dreams? Does anyone care? Not me.

P.S. - this movie is the perfect example of the misuse of voice over...

*1/2

A Simple Plan

If movies have taught me anything, it is that keeping a big bag of money will only make things worse (unless you're the English boy in Millions). That is the lesson learned from A Simple Plan, a movie where problems arise and only get worse at every turn.

1) Don't trust anyone. 2) Don't think you're smarter than everybody else. 3) Don't get anyone else involved. 4) Don't pretend no one will get hurt. And 5) never ever make a plan. Or, if you want to make a nail-biter of a movie, do the opposite. It worked in A Simple Plan.

Hank Mitchell (Bill Paxton in his only good performance...ever) and his brother Jacob (Billy Bob Thorton in a time when he wasn't typecast as the disgruntled, mean a-hole in buffoonish comedies) and Jacob's drinking buddy find a crashed plane with a bag containing millions of dollars in cash. They conspire to keep it, though Hank has to do the thinking for the others who are greedy and dream big immediately. Soon, Hank can't think fast enough to avoid the schemes, mischief, and mistakes his co-conspirators make on the path to financial heaven.

Money changes people. Or, sometimes it just plain ruins them. The path to ruin is where the film is particularly engaging. I found a strange fascination with watching the plan spin hopelessly out of control. It was like slowing down to look at a car wreck as you pass by. Only in this case, I got to see every misstep along the way. These are not bad people, per say. They are just people who keep digging their own graves by making stupid decisions and not following my list at the beginning of the review.

I actually loved the writing of the film. Even as the characters did horrible things, I rooted for them to pull out of the film with some hope even though it went against my conscience and logic. That's part of the dilemma the characters face: to try to be logical about an act/plan that will never submit itself to logic. Or maybe the lesson is that logic doesn't bend to the whims of men. Or maybe the lesson is don't take what isn't yours. Billy Bob Thorton creates a dim-witted, kind-hearted, drunk, social disappointment who I couldn't help but let my heart break for. There're layers to the character. His loyalties, intelligence, will, and love are tested. And all along it is clear that he isn't up to the task.

And Bill Paxton...Bill Paxton...Bill. Well, he's ruined many a fine film. He's even ruined many a bad film. But he doesn't do anything in A Simple Plan that ruins the quality of the film. Actually, my heart pounded every time I saw his look of distress. And that look abounded. I can't say that a different actor couldn't have done just as well or better, but he did well. Let it be known that Bill Paxton is capable of something better than the crap he usually turns in.

And scrappy little Bridget Fonda...what a good time. Her sudden turn into the scheming, conniving, Lady Macbeth was stunning. The very model of sweetness with a belly big with child switches into a would-be mastermind funneling ideas and dreams into her husband every time he loses faith.

The film struggles in its climax to keep the same quality of acting that it carried throughout, but it's a true diamond in the rough. It's also nice to see Sam Raimi do something other than his horror/comedies and superhero flicks. He can do all sorts of good.

***1/2

2 Days in the Valley

This film was a pleasant surprise. I didn't quite know what to expect, but I picked up the film because it stars Eric Stoltz and Jeff Daniels. I'm sure there was more to the thought process when I was walking the aisles at The Exchange and saw the VHS for a buck, but the meat and potatoes of the winning argument was: 1 dollar, Daniels, Stoltz.

And it was worth it. Normally, that isn't a compliment, but it is this time. What I got for the buck was a zany, dark comedy/thriller (?). I laughed a lot during this movie. Not hearty guffaws, but well-earned chuckles. I found the film to be clever, but not in a showy way some dark comedies are.

The film connects strangers in a way that some people might find overly-coinicdental, but in a movie this free and light (though dark, know what I mean?) I didn't mind it at all. I kept hoping everybody would meet up and hijinks would ensue. And they did. Boy, oh boy, did they ever.

And Stoltz and Daniels? Great. My only real complaint is that the movie has these great directions it could have taken their two characters. Instead, it pushes them into minor roles. In a movie like this, all the roles might be seen as minor, but Stoltz and Daniels kind of get forgotten. Stoltz's character is a cop who might have to bust a prostitution business running out of a massage parlor. His partner, played by Daniels, is gunning for the place. Problem is Stoltz's character kind of likes one of the prostitutes. Sure, it's not Bible humor, but I thought that would have made for a really interesting movie all on its own. Even though I really enjoyed the whole movie, I kind of wish it had followed those two guys more. Perhaps the greatest flaw a movie can have (besides a title like Dude, Where's my Car?) is to present something amazing and go in another direction. I'm sure there's something worse, but I'm kind of enjoying the ranting.

***1/2

Eastern Promises

Eastern Promises is a grisly account of violence in London involving an orphaned infant, a doctor, and the russian mafia.

Director David Cronenberg doesn't seem one to shy away from violence. In fact, his last film was titled A History of Violence. I thought that film started out well, but lost its way in its third act. I think Eastern Promises is solid throughout. Still, I had an overall lukewarm reaction to it.

After an eye-opener of a beginning, the film finds a young, pregnant girl dying in a hospital where Naomi Watt's (King Kong, 21 Grams) character, a doctor named Anna, saves the baby and loses the mother. She finds the girl's diary from which she hopes she can find a relative to take care of the baby. Trouble is, the diary is in Russian. Her search for a translator leads her to shady men at a shady restaurant. Whether she likes it or not, she soon becomes a part of the Russian mafia's dealings.

She meets a driver for the mob named Nikolai, played by Viggo Mortensen (The Lord of the Rings franchise). Though he seems dangerous, he stands out among the men he works for. When Anna gets closer to the truth, she gets closer to danger. And Nikolai may be the only one who gives a damn and can do something about it.

First off, this film is violent. Often, there is merely a threat of danger. However, there are parts drenched in violence. Cronenberg does not shy away from it. It is presented smack dab in the middle of the screen where it stares back at you. It is jarring. I admit, I was grossed out a little. But it is fake. It is a movie. I remembered.

Also, the violence fits with the story. There are bad men who do bad things. Sometimes good guys have to do bad things to stop bad men. Either way, blood is spilled.

Particularly memorable (for better or for worse) is a naked knife fight scene. Nikolai is cornered in a Russian bath house. During the struggle, his towel is lost and soon he is naked and wrestling, stabbing, and being stabbed. It is brutal.

I do not think I have to make excuses for the filmmakers, but one reason I thought this was justified (albeit disturbing for the audience) is that a person is never really as vulnerable as when he or she is naked. Nikolai is attacked when he does not have a weapon. That raises the stakes of what could have been a panic-inducing action scene in the movie. What raises the stakes even higher is that he is naked. There is nothing between Nikolai and the threats before him. He is utterly defenseless.

While it is difficult to empathise with a naked, forty-year old, Russian mobster in a bath house, I think back to some scary dreams when I waltzed into school naked. Scary, right? What if all the other students at my school were Russian mobsters out to get me? Scarier. So, instead of merely being panic-inducing, the scene is nail-biting, heart-exploding, and one-hand-over-your-eyes-looking-between-your-fingers intense. Necessary? I do not know. I do think that the scene accomplished exactly what the filmmakers wanted it to do.

Needless to say, Eastern Promises is not for those movie-goers trying to avoid blood or nudity when going out for a Friday night flick.

Like A History of Violence, Eastern Promises takes a major turn in its third act. Unlike A History of Violence, it does go down for the count because of a horrible performance from Oscar nominee William Hurt. It does, however, rely on some story elements that made what had been an unpredictable film predictable. While these story elements make the film more satisfying to the audience who expects such turns, their inclusion bothered me.

I was impressed both by Naomi Watts and Viggo Mortensen. Mortensen in particular has a difficult task of playing tough while pulling off a thick, Russian accent. I do not know any Russians, but I think I would be bothered if I did not believe his accent when I heard it. What helped is that his accent is as thick and as indecipherable at times as everyone else's in the film. It also helps that he fully commits to the role. Nikolai is a mystery man. His motives and loyalties are questionable thoughout the film, though it is primarily so because I could not tell why he was with the low-lifes he surrounded himself with when he seemed to have have a better head on his shoulders.

Naomi Watts, despite what turns into a supporting role midway through the film, delivers the best performance in the film. She is utterly believable even when constantly sticking her neck out into danger. She also plays her emotions well. Her character can be alternately vulnerable, courageous, angry, sad - basically a complicated woman.

If you can cringe repeatedly and still stick with a movie, Eastern Promises is worth a watch. I cannot, however, promise you will walk out of the movie theater thanking me I suggested you do so.

For those reading this on my blog: ask me what else I didn't like after you see the movie.

***

Hollywoodland

I was hoping, deeply hoping, that the hype surrounding Ben Affleck's performance in Hollywoodland was earned rather than the product of the a comeback-hungry press. It turns out it was the latter. All the performances are sub par, including the capable stars (Adrien Brody, Ben Affleck, Diane Lane). The film takes place in the late 50's-era Hollywood. It seems as though the actors watched a couple movies, checked out TV shows, and read a couple books from the era that were supposed to teach them how to sound authentic. Instead, they ended up so concerned with their characters accents and posturing that they neglected to invest themselves in what is not readily seen in the mannerisms and voice inflections. The performances are not above the acting we would see in a TV movie of the week depicting the same story. Certainly, this is not the kind of work I expect from the stars of this film. I can say that Bob Hoskins was good in a small role.

This is a bit cold, but the film didn't make me care about George Reeves death, the mysteries of which the movie revolves around. Even if I didn't care about George Reeves, a basic demand for justice and truth should have been awakened by the film. It wasn't. The performances distanced me from the characters. I didn't want to know about them. I just wanted Ben Affleck and Diane Lane to tone it down, to look at each other like they meant what they were saying to each other. The only character I developed any sort of positive feelings for was the private investigator looking for answers concerning the Reeves death. Brody sort of coasts by on typical down and out P.I. charm, tricks, and dialogue. There wasn't really anything about the character as it was written or the performance that made me root for the guy. I was more on board with the guy because I liked the actor playing him.

The acting must have taken a cue from the writing because it too has all the markings of an impersonation of the time rather than an act of bringing it to life. The dialogue is awkward at times, especially when somebody tries to be tough or angry.

Don't watch this movie.

**

Shallow Grave

I fear I may have spoken too quickly of my disappointment in Ewan McGregor’s range as an actor. I say this because I recently rewatched Danny Boyle’s first film, Shallow Grave, and found McGregor to be quite capable in his role. The character still allows McGregor to display his charm, starry-eyed wonder, and expressive inflection of the lines written by Trainspotting screenwriter John Hodge.

Shallow Grave somehow got more taut, more scary, and more clever during my second viewing of the film. The performance by the leads (Kerry Fox, McGregor, and Christopher Eccleston of 28 Days Later fame in one of the creepiest performances in my memory) were very good and benefited from a brilliant chemistry between the performers.

Basically, a bag of free money is never free (see A Simple Plan if you doubt me). I am reminded of a great quote from a bad movie, 8mm: “If you dance with the devil, the devil don't change. The devil changes you.”

Boyle again shows a knack for visual inventiveness and ability to organize thrills in a expert manner. He truly is a master. Even when the script and actors are out to lunch, he’s always doing good work from the director’s chair.

A taste of the wit of the script: [Juliet, Alex and David are about to dispose of Hugo's body by rendering it unidentifiable]
Juliet Miller: “I can't do it. “
Alex Law: “But Juliet, you're a doctor. You kill people every day.”
John Hodge put together a basic thriller that excels in practically every way. Even a twist that should be seen a mile away is surprising and fun. He writes the disintegration of friendship and morals very well.

***1/2

The Way of the Gun

Note to reader: this film does not warrant this long of a review, but when I sat down to write it, I discovered I had a lot to say about it. So, if you give up midway through, I understand.



Rewatching The Way of the Gun after a two or three year break in between allowed me to view the film with a fresh perspective. It is not as strong of a film as I originally thought, but I still really like the film. The flaws are more glaring now, but strengths are clearer as well.

The Way of the Gun is the directoral debut of The Usual Suspects Oscar-winning screenwriter Christopher McQuarrie. It flopped and McQuarrie hasn't really worked much since. That's a shame because he shows a lot of promise with this movie. His skills as a screenwriter are already recognized (you know, with that gold guy statue), and they are on display here. Like The Usual Suspects, there are lots of creative lines that are ripe for quoting. Unlike The Usual Suspects, they do not always work within the context of the movie. When the lines do work, they're great. When they don't work, they are a bump out of the reality of the film. The film works so hard to force the crime movie genre dialogue that it sometimes shows its strained effort rather than playing seamlessly (i.e. - "I promise you a day of reckoning that you won't live long enough to never forget."). But there are some wonderful spots of dialogue that play to McQuarrie's strengths, particularly a scene with Benicio Del Toro's kidnapper and James Caan's "bagman" sharing a cup of coffee and discussing the sorry state of the common criminal ("These days, they want to be criminals more than they want to commit crime."). Another strong scene, definitely Phillippe's best scene in the film, is a conversation with Del Toro vaguely about conscience and the wages of sin.

But there are those awkward scenes as well. I'll chalk up much of this awkwardness to some performances. Taye Diggs doesn't really handle gritty dialogue well. He rings false as an always professional, ruthless bodyguard. He seems miscast. I'll admit, the guy is charismatic, but any talent he may have is absent in the role.

McQuarrie wants to write a gritty movie, and he mostly succeeds. Everybody in the film has questionable morals, with most of the characters playing either emotionally numb or emotionally conflicted low-lifes in either nice suits and dress shirts or thrift store shirts and nine dollar hair cuts. While this could have made it very difficult to root for anyone, McQuarrie writes his two main characters complexly enough to make me care.

The locales, especially when the setting moves to Mexico, also lend their hands to the style. A dirty brothel and shoddy motel and bar can't help but set the tone for the shady dealings that take place.

McQuarrie is also a strong plotter (if that's a word). The plot is complicated with interesting conflicts both personal and professionally amongst the characters. The conflicts created actually make the plot seem much more complicated than it really is, but that isn't as bad thing. It's really a basic kidnapping movie, but one set up very well.

The cinematography also shows off a interesting eye for mise en cine. There's some frontality, lighting choices, and framing that really holds the action well. Some of the brief quiet, still moments really stood out to me such as Phillippe and the very pregnant Juliette Lewis sharing a snadwich in a stolen van, Lewis riding an elevator with her bodyguards, and Del Toro mulling over the weight of the situation during a c-section happening right next him.

The strength of this movie is in part the plotting and characterizations, but largely the performances of two of its actors. Benicio Del Toro is great, playing a older, wiser, more experienced criminal somewhat mentoring his friend, "associate," and fellow criminal played by Ryan Phillippe. He almost always dominates his scenes with Phillippe even though his character is much more reserved, smooth, and quiet. No one in the film handles the dialogue better than Del Toro. It rolls off his tongue naturally, fortifying his low-life as a fully-realized performance.

This film is also notable because it features a wonderful performance by James Caan, who since this film was released in 2000, has been stuck in TV land in Las Vegas, which is, as one would imagine, lackluster. He plays with and against type, playing his usual tough guy persona, but with the twist that it's a aged tough guy whose old fashioned means of operation cast him in a bad light when two young, modern bodyguards convince their employer he is past his prime. The role might mirror his own career when older actors known for their out of date personas have to prove themselves as relevant. And he does. He's still a tough guy with many of the film's best scenes. It's fun to see Caan act again. He's pretty good at it.

Phillippe is the other lead, and his character adds moral conviction to the mix. His criminal is an interesting character, preaching the mission statement of his partnership in a voice over in the beginning, though his character slowly sheds his certainty of the necessity of their livelihood. He gets a nice speech I mentioned earlier in this review that stands out, but quite a bit of his performance is incredibly forced. I like Phillippe, and he certainly has improved as an actor (Breach, Crash), but I wonder how much better this film could have been with a different actor like Mark Ruffalo or Edward Norton, though their ages do not fit the part.

The theme of the film is making amends for your sins. It isn’t hit over the head of the viewer, and I actually had to do some thinking about what the theme was. But it was there the whole time in plain sight. These are bad people and their sins are many, but they are granted the chance to do something right. The question raised is: does one thing done right fix all that was done wrong.? And the film’s answer is: don’t expect anything in the way of redemption.

***

Killing Zoe

I felt this intense need to see Killing Zoe. It was unexplained. It came fast and serious. I had to see it. My best guess is I wanted to see Eric Stoltz in an edgy movie. I loved the guy in Kicking and Screaming (see that at all costs) and enjoyed him in Mr. Jealousy. But I vaguely remembered him playing the drug dealer in Pulp Fiction and being very, very good at it. So I really, really wanted to see Killing Zoe.

Killing Zoe is directed by Roger Avary, co-writer of Pulp Fiction. That's right! Tarantino didn't do it alone! Avary also directed Rules of Attraction, which I liked and thought improved upon the book it was based upon. So I had hopes for Killing Zoe.

It started off well. There was a strange love scene between Stoltz and Julie Delpy followed by a conversation that was well written. Then Eric entered and the movie lost me. The movie's charm vacated the premises.

My first complaint is that the drugged out trip through the city goes on for way too long. I know what the director was trying to do. He wanted to give hints that Anglade's Eric was not the way Stoltz's Zed remembered him. He was worse. Scarier. Unpredictable. He did it. He just took way too long to do it.

What followed can best be described as a heist gone wrong, but it never really had the edge or suspense of what it attempted to portray. The only character I could really root for was Julie Delpy's, and she was hardly in it. Ditto for Eric Stoltz, although he is arguably the main character. Stoltz does his best, but the movie ends up being a bit of a mess just like Eric, played by Jean-Hugues Anglade. Anglade chews the scenery a bit, but he does get to be part of the film's best moment, when his crazed character snaps a burst of light out of the air.

I was debating myself as to whether what I was watching was actually okay or not for most of the movie. If the film had pulled off a great ending, all would have been forgiven. But the final climax doesn't really satisfy. Some attempts at clever dialogue don't fit with the mess at the end and really detract from any sense of real suspense. And Stoltz just gets the shit beat out of him. Honestly, I just wanted him to do the same to Eric (Anglade's character, not Stoltz).

**

Zodiac

Two things: 1)Zodiac is nearly flawless. 2) I only really liked it.

Zodiac has great, award-worthy performances from Jake Gyllenhaal, Robert Downey Jr. (who's becoming a favorite of mine), and Mark Ruffalo in his best peformance since You Can Count on Me. Every time Robert Downey Jr. spoke, I was thinking, "Oscar, Robert. It's on its way."

The film looks great. The film is stylized at times, but not nearly as stylized as Fincher's other films. This is more a straight up drama, a police procedual and mystery, than it is a thriller. And it succeeds in spades with the drama, but the film's running time (2 1/2+ hours), made me rely on the characters for "entertainment." Luckily, the characters are complex and wonderfully portrayed by the cast. Still, the film is a labyrinth of information.

The film does a great job of capturing the fear of the period of the Zodiac killings. The media-savvy killer knew how to push people's buttons, and their buttons were always ripe 'fer a pushin'.

The costs of being a part of the search for the Zodiac are abundant and plague the latter parts of the characters' lives during the film. The costs of obssession and failure ripple on throughout.

Facts of the case come in droves, leaving me to backtrack to review all the previous information over and over again in my head. This wasn't terrible, but it did take my attention away from the action on screen for short periods of time. This left me perpetually playing a game of catch up for the majority of the film. I think a repeat viewing should prove more fruitful as a movie-going experience. I'll write again after the second viewing.

****

The Proposition

This is the moodiest western I've seen (save perhaps the popular Unforgiven). It's dark. It's gloomy. It's also beautiful. There are shots of the Australian outback that belong on my wall. There's a very affecting scene somewhere in the middle of the film where a man sings a lovely Irish song that I can now hear my brother sing from time to time. But the song is forever connected to intercut shots of a mentally challenged outlaw being whipped to pieces. I can't describe how it makes me feel to hear something so beautiful sung while low volume screams of pain filter through. The acting is topped notch. While Guy Pearce is the most recognizable name from the bunch (he does a great job being quiet and letting his solemn face speak volumes), Ray Winstone and Danny Huston deliver amazing work. Ray Winstone is a sometimes brutal man who wants civility in a town where people are thirsty for revenge, and this conflict was the most interesting to me of the films many buttings of heads. More lyrical and poetic and gut wrenching is watching Guy Pearce toil over whether to kill one brother to save another. Danny Huston is an odd villain. He's a brutal killer with the soul of an artist (a crazy artist, but an artist none the less). The last shot of the film is the one that sticks with me the most. A bitter ending that paints the screen beautifully.

****