Magnolia Poem

LINDA PARTRIDGE by A. Gates

"Have you seen death in your bed?
In your house?"
I regret my transgressions,
Dirty secrets I only now begin to tell.
I fear I was a giver of my body to other men,
Those who were not dying in bed.
And when he coughed and his brain turned,
I was doing things wrong.
I don't want to see the son come home.
I don't want him to know
I am broken, too.
So the pills are good -
All I deserve
Because I love him -
Him whom I hurt.
So tears come naturally.
A start for rain.
As the song fades,
So do I.
A hazy mess.

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.

***

Ernest Goes to Jail

There is no subtle Ernest movie. You can look, but there are none. But there is a funny one. Ernest Goes to Jail is funny. Laugh-out-loud-funny even. It's not a well-scripted movie.

There is no explanation why bad actors acting badly can be hilarious sometimes.

Say what you want (and you will) - but Jim Varney can be funny. His Ernest shtick got old (or maybe always was to some of you), but somehow he's really funny in Ernest Goes to Jail.

A lot of the laughs recieved are easy laughs. There's no complexity to the humor. What you see is what you get. And I liked what I got.

***

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

Sunshine Poems

SUNSHINE (PINBACKER AND I) by A. Gates

I see the red and the black
Loose skin and bulging eyes
Menace and intent forcing fear
I am sad.
I am breathing hard and fast.
I am scared I can't do this right.
If he comes, but Capa goes,
Will I die alone?
I see his face,
And I fear
Not for my own sake
But for my loves'.
So dive.
So plunge.
Let the sum of life accept my sacrifice.




SUNSHINE (THE ABSENCE OF NOTHING) by A. Gates

I think I owe this sun my life.
I want to give all I have.
I will stare into the light
And let the blindness burn me clean.
Enveloped like a wildfire.
Sheer force of nature,
But greater than all I have ever known.
To feel the warmth,
To see the light,
To engage everything in the pit of space,
Emptiness filling,
I will take it in, and I swear
I will give up.




SUNSHINE (TREY IN THE CORNER) by A. Gates

I did this.
I am the one to blame.
I can see it in their eyes
When I shake and spit,
Tremors and tension rubbing my bones.
The drugs are swift,
They swallow me whole.
I feel nothing but shame,
And it burns.
It turns my stomach over.
Guilt is sobering.
And this blade will free me.
This blood will end this sensation.
My own action a motion I owe.




SUNSHINE (IN ITS SHADOW) by A. Gates

I am bitter.
It is cold.
I am beginning to regret -
I regret my time away from home.
I can feel myself stopping,
Struggling but slowing down,
Panic a cold wash,
Crisp sounds as I squirm to go in.
My mouth is open and sticking to it.
My skin is blue, but I can't see it.
The color it goes when you go.
I feel it as I go numb.
Odd how that can be.
The irony does not escape me.
The last thing I see is the frost on my eyes.




SUNSHINE (GREEN AS GIVEN AND TAKEN AWAY) by A. Gates

I gasped.
This one small life in all this black, burned soot and soil.
Too much to take in,
But I tried.
I knelt down and reached out a hand.
Felt my back split and blood peak.
I heard his voice preach to me.
I gasped again.
This death admist all this black, burned soot and soil.
I wanted to cry,
My mouth stretched to curse his name,
But a hollow sound was the only thing that escaped me.
A shallow breath.
I died with my eyes wide open,
Calm over my face,
Grasping that life as I so longed to alive.

Sunshine Poem

SUNSHINE (COOLS MY BLOOD) by A. Gates

My shirt sticks to my stomach.
I don't feel the pain.
My eyes light up
As the sparks begn to flame.
One into two,
Two into four,
Many, many more.
Flashing and surounding me.
Too great to begin.
The heat is close,
A force growing in front of me.
I'd say it's the sun,
But no one would believe me.
I reach to touch.
Can you touch the sun?
I see my maker.
Does it see me?
And then it glows.
It builds.
It breathes.
It bleaches out my vision
Until I see all I can see is light.

The Cell

The Cell often gets criticized by reviewers for utilizing the style over substance method. There is certainly style. The film is visually stunning. It never fixes to a look that it can't change whenever it feels like it. It is also terrifying, chiefly because I have never before seen things like I saw in this movie.

But there is substance too. Do I like that substance? That is the question reviewers should be asking themselves. I'm not sure I do, but I think I don't. There are good things about the movie. It explores the mind of a serial killer and offers ideas of what makes men do terrible things.

I didn't like what I saw. It was well constructed visually and well acted by the crazy D'Onofrio and sweet Lopez. But it's horrible stuff that passes before the eyes during the trip inside D'Onofrio's killer's mind.

The film's action climazes when the killer's mind is placed inside Lopez's mind. To comfort him, she chooses to be dressed and presented as the Virgin Mary. Now, I'm all for religious imagery in film, but it must work in the context of the film. Presenting herself as Mary to the killer is a terrible idea. Sure, it's interesting visually, but it doesn't fit with what we've learned about the killer prior to the reveal. He had suffered a very traumatic baptism at a young age, and it seems that he hasn't carried positive feelings about Christianity into adulthood. So, why oh why is it a good idea to comfort him as the Virgin Mary?

Then there's the crucifixion that takes place. No cross, just bolt arrows shot from a crossbow through the killers feet and hands leaving laying out in a Jesus pose. I'm not sure what the filmmakers are trying to say here, and I'm left only to guess. My guess is that the killer must be sacrificed to save the young version he sometimes presents in his mind. But this is a stretch and the film certainly didn't have to include that kind of imagery to convey this to the audience. And I don't think I've ever been more uncomfortable with religious imagery before. Likening the killer to Jesus, even abstractly, is too much for me.

While this is the second-best performance I have seen from Lopez (Out of Sight soaring above and beyond anything else), I am confused why she was paired up (albeit non-romantically) with co-star Vince Vaughn. He is utterly out of place in this movie. Vaughn is talented. I believe he could work in a drama, but not this thriller. Every line he utters (that may be a bit harsh - maybe it's every other line) rings false when it falls from his mouth. That may be because of some awkwardness in the script, but Vaughn certainly doesn't help matters.

I remember really being impressed by this movie when I saw it as a Senior in high school, but it doesn't hold up well to time. It's a decent one-watcher, but revisitng the film will only reveal new flaws to viewers. It is consistently shocking however. That much has not changed.

**1/2

Sunshine poems

SUNSHINE (COLDER THAN HELL) by A. Gates

Colder than winter on the moon.
Liquid cracking my bones.
I tense muscles long forgotten.
Vomit on the cusp of emergence.
I lean on the cool metal above and beside.
A joke next to the frigid pool around my middle and end.
It hurts to breathe this pale cloud.
Heaving chest, chattering teeth, aching head.
Still I speak in harsh tones to myself,
"I have to make things right."
Muttering audibly,
"Capa, you better damn well save us all."




SUNSHINE (KANEDA IS LEAVING US) by A. Gates

So bright, so beautiful.
Complete absence of nothing
Sweeps over me like a warmth as vast as anything.
And I cry out that fear I hold
Perhaps as great as the light on my face.
It burns. It tears.
Moisture evaporates on my skin.
Dry sweat can't bead against the grain.
So hot, so cold.
The vague sensation is the last thing I feel.

3:10 to Yuma

3:10 to Yuma is a new western, but it wears the marks of its tried and true forefathers of the genre proudly. You don't have to like westerns to like 3:10 to Yuma, but it will help. There are bad guys in black, stagecoach robberies, ruthless outlaw gangs, downtrodden ranchers, and sons aging much too fast on the hard, dry earth around them.

That is just some of the good news for you western fans (I'm sure at least a few exist on this campus). Certainly it is not bad news for those of you who could not care less about men in cowboy hats trotting about on horses and talking about the men they have killed. If you do not care, it rolls right off your back. What might stick is the psychological game of wits and will between the two main characters played by two of the best actors working today.

Russell Crowe plays Ben Wade, the aforementioned bad guy in black. Christian Bale plays Dan Evans, the aforementioned downtrodden rancher.

Wade is captured dallying about with a saloon gal in town after a stagecoach robbery. One of the men charged with the task of taking him to justice (via the 3:10 train to the prison in Yuma referred to in the title) turns out to be Evans. He is promised a sum of cash in return that could keep his struggling family above the financial waters it is drowning in.

Evans has two boys. The youngest looks at his father with worshipping eyes. The older boy, played by Logan Lerman, has not looked at him in that way for a long time. He does not respect his father, a civil war veteran with a bum leg who has not shown strength and fortitude in the eyes of his wife and oldest child during their recent struggles.

This is the basis of Evan's situation: he has something to prove to himself and his family. Therefore, when he is granted the opportunity to make things right, he takes it.

That means having to listen to the manipulative, suave, and dangerous Wade along the way to the train several days journey away. This allows the writers, director, and actors the opportunity to create the real entertainment. Sure, 3:10 to Yuma is a western, so there are gunfights and explosions. However, it is the interactions of these two men that kept me interested.

Wade keeps pushing Evan's buttons. Unlike the pushover Evans appears to be at the beginning, he begins to push back, meet gazes, make threats, and stand firm although it seems that inside all he wants to do is wobble freely.

Like many interesting villains, Wade is alluring. He draws you in with his charm, mean streak, and wit. What the film does well is establish a comfort with the character only to take away that comfort at will. Just when you start to think he is not all that bad, he strikes. He is kind of like a tiger in a magic show.

The film moves slowly at times, but this is because the film only carries the illusion of a "bang bang" western. Its true heart lies in these two characters on their journey not only to the train but also revelation.

Yuma ends in a shootout, but it is the actors rather than the action that do the heavy lifting. There is so much revealed about the characters within the last half hour that it might be too much.

I was not sure I liked the ending. I rolled it over in my head for a good hour after the credits rolled and I slowly began to see that the film had earned what had first seem forced. The filmmakers offer precedents along the way to the train that explain why the film can end in the way it does with its characters making the choices they do. I am not completely on board with the final result, but I can clearly see what the filmmakers intended me to.

I would be foolish not to mention the work of Ben Foster as Wade's right-hand man in the gang. It is a role ripe with bravado, and Foster takes full advantage of the opportunities given to him to shine. It is a performance I will remember that surely will get looked over by audiences because the two leads do such fine jobs.

These are neither Bale's nor Crowe's best performances, but each delivers solid, commendable work in what could have been a western too old fashioned to allow these wonderful modern actors to shine.

Not everyone shines, however. I have not really been a fan of Peter Fonda in the past, and his work in Yuma does not make me change my mind. I did not believe a word he said. His performance is too weak to hide the fact that it is Peter Fonda the actor pretending to be a tough SOB.

Another weakness is a completely unnecessary cameo from a famous face. He tries to hide behind a beard, but it is useless. His appearance took me out of the reality of the movie. It comes about halfway through. I committed to the reality of the movie. "These are cowboys. They are heading to a train. Good. I've got it." Then what's-his-face shows up and I said, "Wait...is that who I think it is? It might be. It is!" Then I am out. I am back in the world of celebrity rather than the world of pistols, spurs, and horses I am supposed to be in.

***1/2