The Dreamers (IMDB) (Netflix)
From Bernardo Bertolucci, whose cinematic credentials are pretty much unimpeachable (The Last Emperor, 1900, The Conformist), as is his ability to create controversial films (Last Tango in Paris). It's 1968, in Paris, where the lefties have decided that everyone else is a fascist and challenging social conventions is a moral imperative. An American exchange student (Michael Pitt) meets up with a brother (Louis Garrel) and twin sister (Eva Green), who befriend him, and — before their parents can say "Don't have any wild parties while we're on holiday" — invite him to stay over. Three hormonally flooded teenagers, including siblings who are a bit closer than is decent, and revolution in the air— it's a heady, dangerous mix.
And a polarizing one for the critics, apparently. Put me on the unenchanted side. Green's physical charms are considerable and almost continously on display, and the guys are equally unencumbered throughout the film. Garrel and Green have that special twin thing going, they're precocious, willful teenagers, and on top of that, they're Parisians; it's all a bit much, or at least silly. Maybe that was what Bertolucci was going for (I doubt it), but it doesn't make the characters particularly sympathetic. You'll go for the sex, you'll stay for ... more sex.
Saturday, February 21, 2004
My Architect: A Son's Journey (IMDB) (Netflix)
As chaplain during my fraternity days, I had to precede each dinner with a short quote, one of which was "I asked a brick what it wanted to be, and it said 'make me an arch.'" That came from Louis Kahn, the architect. Kahn never really got professional traction until his 50's, didn't build very many buildings, died bankrupt in a men's room at Penn Station, and had three kids by three different women, all while being married to one of them. His son, one of the love children, was Nathaniel, only eleven when his dad died, and who has used this film as an attempt at understanding and possibly reconciling with the man who only occasionally came to dinner.
Lou Kahn is a great subject, all the more so because his compartmentalized life—no one really had the whole picture. And his fellow architects make for great interviews because, lets face it, they're such great bullshit artists (I would have loved to be in the room when I.M. Pei sold the French on that pyramid in front of the Louvre). The film focuses on Kahn and the people who knew their fractions of him, and wisely avoids the critics, who would have turned this into an intellectual exercise. It's the nature of fathers that we often really don't know them until they're gone, when we see them through the stories from their friends, and Nathaniel captures this process with quiet eloquence.
As chaplain during my fraternity days, I had to precede each dinner with a short quote, one of which was "I asked a brick what it wanted to be, and it said 'make me an arch.'" That came from Louis Kahn, the architect. Kahn never really got professional traction until his 50's, didn't build very many buildings, died bankrupt in a men's room at Penn Station, and had three kids by three different women, all while being married to one of them. His son, one of the love children, was Nathaniel, only eleven when his dad died, and who has used this film as an attempt at understanding and possibly reconciling with the man who only occasionally came to dinner.
Lou Kahn is a great subject, all the more so because his compartmentalized life—no one really had the whole picture. And his fellow architects make for great interviews because, lets face it, they're such great bullshit artists (I would have loved to be in the room when I.M. Pei sold the French on that pyramid in front of the Louvre). The film focuses on Kahn and the people who knew their fractions of him, and wisely avoids the critics, who would have turned this into an intellectual exercise. It's the nature of fathers that we often really don't know them until they're gone, when we see them through the stories from their friends, and Nathaniel captures this process with quiet eloquence.
Sunday, February 15, 2004
The Triplettes of Belleville (IMDB) (Netflix)
A French animated film comique, featuring a cyclist, his grandma and three sisters who long ago graced the stage, but now know a hundred ways to prepare frogs for dinner and, er, dessert. The young man goes missing and grandma chases after him, encountering the sisters and various nefarious characters.
If scenes of a fat dog climbing into bed with someone result in convulsive laughter (twice), this is your pick of the week. And apparently my theater was full of these folks, which generated waves of self-doubt about my movie judgement and made the whole tedious exercise seem far longer. The humor is nursing-home lame, the frog stuff is slightly disgusting, and every scene is 50% too long. Then again, both the critics and regular folks seem to love this attempted comedy, so maybe you should ask someone else.
A French animated film comique, featuring a cyclist, his grandma and three sisters who long ago graced the stage, but now know a hundred ways to prepare frogs for dinner and, er, dessert. The young man goes missing and grandma chases after him, encountering the sisters and various nefarious characters.
If scenes of a fat dog climbing into bed with someone result in convulsive laughter (twice), this is your pick of the week. And apparently my theater was full of these folks, which generated waves of self-doubt about my movie judgement and made the whole tedious exercise seem far longer. The humor is nursing-home lame, the frog stuff is slightly disgusting, and every scene is 50% too long. Then again, both the critics and regular folks seem to love this attempted comedy, so maybe you should ask someone else.
Friday, February 13, 2004
Big Fish (IMDB) (Netflix)
Tim Burton's latest, about a tale-telling dad (Albert Finney), who's incessant fish-that-got-away fables have alienated his more just-the-facts-ma'am son (Billy Crudup). Finney is dying, however, and Crudup returns home in a last attempt to figure out who his dad really is. Told through a series of flashbacks, with Ewan McGregor as the younger version, Jessica Lange as the mom, and a cavalcade of the oddball characters that Burton loves so much.
This will be a fuzzy recollection, having viewed this film some weeks ago, but I do know that I was intrigued, entertained and — toward the end — moved by this innovative father-son story. Burton always has affection for those who seem most at home working in the circus, and Finney, Crudup and Lange easily handle the more melodramatic passages. McGregor carries much of the load, however, and does it with charm, responding to each novel situation with mixture of wonder, acceptance and bravado. The standard deviation of the real critics' reactions is surprisingly high, but it's difficult to see what they're complaining about. A charmer.
Tim Burton's latest, about a tale-telling dad (Albert Finney), who's incessant fish-that-got-away fables have alienated his more just-the-facts-ma'am son (Billy Crudup). Finney is dying, however, and Crudup returns home in a last attempt to figure out who his dad really is. Told through a series of flashbacks, with Ewan McGregor as the younger version, Jessica Lange as the mom, and a cavalcade of the oddball characters that Burton loves so much.
This will be a fuzzy recollection, having viewed this film some weeks ago, but I do know that I was intrigued, entertained and — toward the end — moved by this innovative father-son story. Burton always has affection for those who seem most at home working in the circus, and Finney, Crudup and Lange easily handle the more melodramatic passages. McGregor carries much of the load, however, and does it with charm, responding to each novel situation with mixture of wonder, acceptance and bravado. The standard deviation of the real critics' reactions is surprisingly high, but it's difficult to see what they're complaining about. A charmer.
Saturday, February 07, 2004
Girl with a Pearl Earring (IMDB) (Netflix)
A fictional "making of" drama about the famous Vermeer painting, starring Colin Firth as the painter and Scarlett Johansson as the paintee. Scarlett becomes a maid in the Vermeer household, which, other than Firth, is teeming with estrogen—there's the oft-pregnant and cuckholded wife, a girl band's worth of snotty daughters, a bossy housekeeper and a mother-in-law who could intimidate a grizzly bear, but everyone has to suck up to patron Van Ruijven (Tom Wilkinson), who knows how to strike a bargain. Scarlett of course gets caught in the multilateral cross-fire when Vermeer sees that she (in today's vernacular) "gets him" and becomes his silent muse.
And silent she is, uttering no more than a few pages of dialog throughout the film. It's a shaded, physical performance of reactions to everyone attentions, which are a disorienting mix of jealousy, dismissiveness, lechery and mentoring. If there were a category for most sympathetic movie character, Johansson would get it in a walk. Although fictionalized, the story doesn't seem sensationalized, but it does seem to go out of its way to make the household as tense and somber as it can. An engaging little slice of the artistic life and the circumstances that may or may not have contributed to greatness.
A fictional "making of" drama about the famous Vermeer painting, starring Colin Firth as the painter and Scarlett Johansson as the paintee. Scarlett becomes a maid in the Vermeer household, which, other than Firth, is teeming with estrogen—there's the oft-pregnant and cuckholded wife, a girl band's worth of snotty daughters, a bossy housekeeper and a mother-in-law who could intimidate a grizzly bear, but everyone has to suck up to patron Van Ruijven (Tom Wilkinson), who knows how to strike a bargain. Scarlett of course gets caught in the multilateral cross-fire when Vermeer sees that she (in today's vernacular) "gets him" and becomes his silent muse.
And silent she is, uttering no more than a few pages of dialog throughout the film. It's a shaded, physical performance of reactions to everyone attentions, which are a disorienting mix of jealousy, dismissiveness, lechery and mentoring. If there were a category for most sympathetic movie character, Johansson would get it in a walk. Although fictionalized, the story doesn't seem sensationalized, but it does seem to go out of its way to make the household as tense and somber as it can. An engaging little slice of the artistic life and the circumstances that may or may not have contributed to greatness.
The Big Bounce (IMDB) (Netflix)
Owen Wilson is a nice-guy petty thief with an irresistible broken nose, who starts hanging with bad girl Sara Foster, mistress of a rich sleazeball (Gary Sinise). There's a judge (Morgan Freeman) who's got something cooking on the side, and Charlie Sheen is now (finally!) playing character parts. Most of the movie consists of Foster trying to get Wilson to come in on the scam. The latest movie based on a novel by Elmore Leonard, the Philip K. Dick of crime.
This is the most affable crime film in years, which helps, because it's as leisurely as its Hawaiian setting, and constructed like a Tiki hut built by Cub Scouts. Everyone and everything, including the plot, just ambles along, and even the climax onlyraises the pulse by maybe ten points. Wilson's beachcombing hipster persona is on the money, his slightly whiny when-will-the-other-one-drop voice giving him the boyish charm to slide through the rough spots. Unlike Animal House, which just got added to the National Film Registry of the Library of Congress, this won't win any awards, but it's a stress-free 90 minutes of sly humor.
Owen Wilson is a nice-guy petty thief with an irresistible broken nose, who starts hanging with bad girl Sara Foster, mistress of a rich sleazeball (Gary Sinise). There's a judge (Morgan Freeman) who's got something cooking on the side, and Charlie Sheen is now (finally!) playing character parts. Most of the movie consists of Foster trying to get Wilson to come in on the scam. The latest movie based on a novel by Elmore Leonard, the Philip K. Dick of crime.
This is the most affable crime film in years, which helps, because it's as leisurely as its Hawaiian setting, and constructed like a Tiki hut built by Cub Scouts. Everyone and everything, including the plot, just ambles along, and even the climax onlyraises the pulse by maybe ten points. Wilson's beachcombing hipster persona is on the money, his slightly whiny when-will-the-other-one-drop voice giving him the boyish charm to slide through the rough spots. Unlike Animal House, which just got added to the National Film Registry of the Library of Congress, this won't win any awards, but it's a stress-free 90 minutes of sly humor.
Saturday, January 03, 2004
Cold Mountain (IMDB) (Netflix)
Jude Law has had too much of the Civil War and is heading home, Homerically, to Nicole Kidman, his life's love, even though he's not sure that she even remembers his name. Meanwhile, Nicole's not coping well with life on the homefront, what with the predatious Home Guard and because of her Southern Belle upbringing, an impressive lack of practical skills. Renee Zellweger provides the comic relief and feminist backbone, and Philip Seymour Hoffman has a nice turn as an amoral preacher. An anti-war film that focuses on those left behind, and a testament to true, distant love.
There's not much to complain about here, except maybe that much later one gets this sense of a collection of beats (touchingly chaste romance, war is hell, comic relief, brutality of man—rinse and repeat) that disaggregates from what seemed at the time like a cohesive story. And (he whinged, warming to the task) Kidman seems like an actress fought over by two wildly different make-up artists, or a contest between Grace Kelly Kidman vs. Madame Toussaud Kidman.
Jude Law has had too much of the Civil War and is heading home, Homerically, to Nicole Kidman, his life's love, even though he's not sure that she even remembers his name. Meanwhile, Nicole's not coping well with life on the homefront, what with the predatious Home Guard and because of her Southern Belle upbringing, an impressive lack of practical skills. Renee Zellweger provides the comic relief and feminist backbone, and Philip Seymour Hoffman has a nice turn as an amoral preacher. An anti-war film that focuses on those left behind, and a testament to true, distant love.
There's not much to complain about here, except maybe that much later one gets this sense of a collection of beats (touchingly chaste romance, war is hell, comic relief, brutality of man—rinse and repeat) that disaggregates from what seemed at the time like a cohesive story. And (he whinged, warming to the task) Kidman seems like an actress fought over by two wildly different make-up artists, or a contest between Grace Kelly Kidman vs. Madame Toussaud Kidman.
Monday, December 29, 2003
House of Sand and Fog (IMDB) (Netflix)
Jennifer Connelly is an alcoholic, slightly self-destructive housekeeper who's just lost her house (safety tip: read your mail), and Ben Kingsley is a former Iranian army colonel who desperately wants to regain some semblance of self-respect. Combine those ingredients with an overly helpful police officer (Ron Eldard) and a screenwriter's convenient disregard for the realities of property law, and you've got yourselves a situation.
Walking out of the theater afterwards was a middle-aged couple. The guy said "chick flick noir", and his wife laughed. That's too kind; this is a relentless bleak-fest. Every character and plot point reeks of impending senseless tragedy, and the amazing thing is that the ending exceeds your worst fears. Give credit to all concerned for staying true to a vision and realizing it in a truly competent fashion, but it's not one that many will want to be part of. The audience's uneasy, nervous laughter as the credits rolled signalled the end of a harrowing experience that some apparently liked but no one seemed eager to repeat.
This movie is showing up on many critics' Top 10 lists, which validates the film's craftsmanship, but isn't indicative of its enjoyability.
Jennifer Connelly is an alcoholic, slightly self-destructive housekeeper who's just lost her house (safety tip: read your mail), and Ben Kingsley is a former Iranian army colonel who desperately wants to regain some semblance of self-respect. Combine those ingredients with an overly helpful police officer (Ron Eldard) and a screenwriter's convenient disregard for the realities of property law, and you've got yourselves a situation.
Walking out of the theater afterwards was a middle-aged couple. The guy said "chick flick noir", and his wife laughed. That's too kind; this is a relentless bleak-fest. Every character and plot point reeks of impending senseless tragedy, and the amazing thing is that the ending exceeds your worst fears. Give credit to all concerned for staying true to a vision and realizing it in a truly competent fashion, but it's not one that many will want to be part of. The audience's uneasy, nervous laughter as the credits rolled signalled the end of a harrowing experience that some apparently liked but no one seemed eager to repeat.
This movie is showing up on many critics' Top 10 lists, which validates the film's craftsmanship, but isn't indicative of its enjoyability.
Paycheck (IMDB) (Netflix)
Another Philip K. Dick short story turned into a movie, starring Ben Affleck as the consummate reverse engineer who works on projects so sensitive that he has to get his memory wiped clean after each project. It's a living. On his last gig, however, he intentionally gives up his fee and sends himself a care package of clues and job aids that would make MacGyver proud. The question that's running through his recently scrubbed brain is "why the hell would I do that?"
Dick's stories usually minimized the usual sci-fi technology trappings and often focused on cognition (in the case of Minority Report, pre-cognition) and memory (Total Recall). He works these themes again to good effect here, requiring that Affleck and Uma Thurman (and the audience) figure out what the game is at the same time they're dodging evil henchmen trying to kill them. Eventually, this reduces down to a conventional action thriller, but the premise fuels a great two-thirds of a movie.
Another Philip K. Dick short story turned into a movie, starring Ben Affleck as the consummate reverse engineer who works on projects so sensitive that he has to get his memory wiped clean after each project. It's a living. On his last gig, however, he intentionally gives up his fee and sends himself a care package of clues and job aids that would make MacGyver proud. The question that's running through his recently scrubbed brain is "why the hell would I do that?"
Dick's stories usually minimized the usual sci-fi technology trappings and often focused on cognition (in the case of Minority Report, pre-cognition) and memory (Total Recall). He works these themes again to good effect here, requiring that Affleck and Uma Thurman (and the audience) figure out what the game is at the same time they're dodging evil henchmen trying to kill them. Eventually, this reduces down to a conventional action thriller, but the premise fuels a great two-thirds of a movie.
Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King (IMDB) (Netflix)
Another trilogy bites the dust. The gang is pretty much all back: Frodo, Aragorn, Gandalf, Smeagol--but no Saruman, who didn't make it out of the editing suite. Which is surprising, since this colossus weighs in at three hours and twenty minutes (some say 3:30) and tacks on what appeared to be five (I lost count) epilogues.
Unlike the last Matrix effort, this high-tech triptych walks across the line under its own power. Director Peter Jackson seems to have finally gotten the hang of movie-making (a remake of King Kong is next for him), but having quality source material may have helped (the Matrices' Wachowski Brothers clearly were overextended). This is a solid chocolate Santa, with well-developed (as opposed to over-developed) themes of sacrifice, courage, fellowship and purity of spirit, plus impeccable special effects. The can't-bear-to-say-goodbye endings generated some groans and perhaps a little mocking laughter, dulling the finish, which is unfortunate, but not particularly damaging.
Another trilogy bites the dust. The gang is pretty much all back: Frodo, Aragorn, Gandalf, Smeagol--but no Saruman, who didn't make it out of the editing suite. Which is surprising, since this colossus weighs in at three hours and twenty minutes (some say 3:30) and tacks on what appeared to be five (I lost count) epilogues.
Unlike the last Matrix effort, this high-tech triptych walks across the line under its own power. Director Peter Jackson seems to have finally gotten the hang of movie-making (a remake of King Kong is next for him), but having quality source material may have helped (the Matrices' Wachowski Brothers clearly were overextended). This is a solid chocolate Santa, with well-developed (as opposed to over-developed) themes of sacrifice, courage, fellowship and purity of spirit, plus impeccable special effects. The can't-bear-to-say-goodbye endings generated some groans and perhaps a little mocking laughter, dulling the finish, which is unfortunate, but not particularly damaging.
Sunday, December 28, 2003
Cheaper by the Dozen (IMDB) (Netflix)
A very loose, even unrecognizable remake of the 1950 classic, starring Steve Martin and Bonnie Hunt. Martin's got his big break to coach a college football team, and Hunt's book just got published, and so their blossoming careers start to test their family values. Another niece-and-nephew pick.
And yes, they liked this one too. And yes, it does have its moments, but one can only take so many charming youngsters, and twelve far exceeds my limit. There are precisely two themes at work here, career vs. family (twice over) and the ostracized, out-of-synch-family-member bit), and they're hammered home with minimal subtlety. When Steve and Bonnie are together, everything's a little crisper, but this mostly Martin coping with the kids and their difficulty in adapting to the new surroundings. There are some heartwarming scenes toward the end, but by then it's too late to have much impact.
A very loose, even unrecognizable remake of the 1950 classic, starring Steve Martin and Bonnie Hunt. Martin's got his big break to coach a college football team, and Hunt's book just got published, and so their blossoming careers start to test their family values. Another niece-and-nephew pick.
And yes, they liked this one too. And yes, it does have its moments, but one can only take so many charming youngsters, and twelve far exceeds my limit. There are precisely two themes at work here, career vs. family (twice over) and the ostracized, out-of-synch-family-member bit), and they're hammered home with minimal subtlety. When Steve and Bonnie are together, everything's a little crisper, but this mostly Martin coping with the kids and their difficulty in adapting to the new surroundings. There are some heartwarming scenes toward the end, but by then it's too late to have much impact.
Haunted Mansion (IMDB) (Netflix)
An Eddie Murphy vehicle, and a niece-and-nephew selection. Eddie's a workaholic real estate agent who has to make one more call before a family outing, at the aforementioned property, but of course this isn't just a charming fixer-upper. It's got a past, which involves a Romeo and Juliet-style tragic love affair, and some very troubled ghosts, one of whom has taken a shine to Eddie's better half.
The kids liked it (the acorn apparently falls very far from the tree; they like everything), and even got a little scared during one sequence involving spiders and zombied skeletons. For the adults, however, there's not a lot of inside grown-up humor going on, and I was troubled by the inclusion of a suicide theme in a PG movie.
An Eddie Murphy vehicle, and a niece-and-nephew selection. Eddie's a workaholic real estate agent who has to make one more call before a family outing, at the aforementioned property, but of course this isn't just a charming fixer-upper. It's got a past, which involves a Romeo and Juliet-style tragic love affair, and some very troubled ghosts, one of whom has taken a shine to Eddie's better half.
The kids liked it (the acorn apparently falls very far from the tree; they like everything), and even got a little scared during one sequence involving spiders and zombied skeletons. For the adults, however, there's not a lot of inside grown-up humor going on, and I was troubled by the inclusion of a suicide theme in a PG movie.
The Cooler (IMDB) (Netflix)
William H. Macy is Bernie, the unluckiest guy on the planet, who has turned his karmic lemons into career lemonade in Las Vegas, by being a "cooler"—the guy who derails your string of good rolls of the dice and keeps the house in the black. Alec Baldwin is the old-school casino owner who has the goods on Bernie, and Maria Bello is the girl who turns things around for him, with results both comical and potentially tragic.
This is a much more violent film than the previews imply, which was somewhat jarring. The characters are broadly drawn, but so well acted that you almost don't notice (this insight courtesy of Sara K.). Bello in particular was impressive, by being at times winsome and desparate, then endearing and tough as a streetwalker ten years past her prime. With accurate expectations going in, a reasonable choice in the same vein as True Romance.
William H. Macy is Bernie, the unluckiest guy on the planet, who has turned his karmic lemons into career lemonade in Las Vegas, by being a "cooler"—the guy who derails your string of good rolls of the dice and keeps the house in the black. Alec Baldwin is the old-school casino owner who has the goods on Bernie, and Maria Bello is the girl who turns things around for him, with results both comical and potentially tragic.
This is a much more violent film than the previews imply, which was somewhat jarring. The characters are broadly drawn, but so well acted that you almost don't notice (this insight courtesy of Sara K.). Bello in particular was impressive, by being at times winsome and desparate, then endearing and tough as a streetwalker ten years past her prime. With accurate expectations going in, a reasonable choice in the same vein as True Romance.
Something's Gotta Give (IMDB) (Netflix)
A romantic comedy for grown-ups, with grown-ups in the lead roles, assuming you consider Keanu Reeves as adult as Diane Keaton and Jack Nicholson. Keaton's a playwright who believes that love won't happen again and Nicholson's a confirmed bachelor for whom the milk is flowing freely. They meet cute when Jack dates Keaton's daughter, and are forced to spend time together when he becomes an unwilling house guest for a few days. When Reeves creates some stirrings in Keaton when he wants to become May to her September, and we're off and running.
This film has gotten a lot of points for showing people of a certain age doing what the rest of the movie industry considers appropriate only for the under-40 crowd, and so it should. Keaton and Nicholson are fun to watch together, and Keanu's not too much of a distraction. Writer/director Nancy Myers could have been a little more ruthless in the cutting room (surely there's a rule against films in this genre going over two hours), and some of the humor is maybe a little too "aren't we naughty?" for male tastes, but in all, a pretty successful outing.
A romantic comedy for grown-ups, with grown-ups in the lead roles, assuming you consider Keanu Reeves as adult as Diane Keaton and Jack Nicholson. Keaton's a playwright who believes that love won't happen again and Nicholson's a confirmed bachelor for whom the milk is flowing freely. They meet cute when Jack dates Keaton's daughter, and are forced to spend time together when he becomes an unwilling house guest for a few days. When Reeves creates some stirrings in Keaton when he wants to become May to her September, and we're off and running.
This film has gotten a lot of points for showing people of a certain age doing what the rest of the movie industry considers appropriate only for the under-40 crowd, and so it should. Keaton and Nicholson are fun to watch together, and Keanu's not too much of a distraction. Writer/director Nancy Myers could have been a little more ruthless in the cutting room (surely there's a rule against films in this genre going over two hours), and some of the humor is maybe a little too "aren't we naughty?" for male tastes, but in all, a pretty successful outing.
Sunday, December 07, 2003
Shattered Glass (IMDB) (Netflix)
Good journalists ingratiate themselves with their subjects, bad ones cultivate their colleagues and bosses. The New Republic magazine had its own Jayson Blair, in the form of Stephen Glass (played by Hayden Christensen), a wunderkind who was getting the stories that no one else got. There was a reason for this, of course, just like there was a reason why MCI/WorldCom could make huge profits when Sprint was gasping for air, wondering what the hell was going on. Peter Sarsgaard is TNR's editor when it all starts to unravel, and Chloë Sevigny one of the staunchest Glass allies.
Even though it's a supporting role, Sarsgaard's contribution is far more interesting because he has the tough choices to make, and bravely doesn't play to our sympathies in making them. Christensen proves he can act (his Star Wars performance is an example of when bad dialogue happens to good actors), with a mix of youthful arrogance and cloying opportunism. The ending is extremely well done, both poignant and affirming.
A small picture, with a lot of substance.
Good journalists ingratiate themselves with their subjects, bad ones cultivate their colleagues and bosses. The New Republic magazine had its own Jayson Blair, in the form of Stephen Glass (played by Hayden Christensen), a wunderkind who was getting the stories that no one else got. There was a reason for this, of course, just like there was a reason why MCI/WorldCom could make huge profits when Sprint was gasping for air, wondering what the hell was going on. Peter Sarsgaard is TNR's editor when it all starts to unravel, and Chloë Sevigny one of the staunchest Glass allies.
Even though it's a supporting role, Sarsgaard's contribution is far more interesting because he has the tough choices to make, and bravely doesn't play to our sympathies in making them. Christensen proves he can act (his Star Wars performance is an example of when bad dialogue happens to good actors), with a mix of youthful arrogance and cloying opportunism. The ending is extremely well done, both poignant and affirming.
A small picture, with a lot of substance.
Saturday, December 06, 2003
The Last Samurai (IMDB) (Netflix)
As a former captain in the post-U.S. Civil War army, Tom Cruise can barely live with himself. He was a hero in the war, then part of the brutal campaign against Native Americans in the West. Down on his guilt-permeated, self-destructive luck, he's lured to Japan to train their army against the Samurai, who are waging their own rebellion against modernity. Things don't go as planned, however, and Cruise quickly finds himself on the wrong side. Or maybe the right one. It's equal parts Lawrence of Arabia and Stockholm Syndrome, with a dash of Gaijin Gets a Kimono.
Apparently it's also an epic, because of the two hour and twenty-four minutes running time (don't count on the usual 15 minutes of commericals and previews at the local cineplex—get there promptly, because they might be squeezing in an extra showing). The noble intent is there, the battle scenes are grand, the bridge is built across the cultural divide. Cruise is his typical affable/intense self, Ken Watanabe is pure studliness as the samurai leader and all his warriors look tres chic in their armor (which will all very soon appear in a Paris fashion show). Battle has seldom been more horrific or beautifully photographed.
The audience was entertained, and so was I, but without being particularly moved.
As a former captain in the post-U.S. Civil War army, Tom Cruise can barely live with himself. He was a hero in the war, then part of the brutal campaign against Native Americans in the West. Down on his guilt-permeated, self-destructive luck, he's lured to Japan to train their army against the Samurai, who are waging their own rebellion against modernity. Things don't go as planned, however, and Cruise quickly finds himself on the wrong side. Or maybe the right one. It's equal parts Lawrence of Arabia and Stockholm Syndrome, with a dash of Gaijin Gets a Kimono.
Apparently it's also an epic, because of the two hour and twenty-four minutes running time (don't count on the usual 15 minutes of commericals and previews at the local cineplex—get there promptly, because they might be squeezing in an extra showing). The noble intent is there, the battle scenes are grand, the bridge is built across the cultural divide. Cruise is his typical affable/intense self, Ken Watanabe is pure studliness as the samurai leader and all his warriors look tres chic in their armor (which will all very soon appear in a Paris fashion show). Battle has seldom been more horrific or beautifully photographed.
The audience was entertained, and so was I, but without being particularly moved.
Sunday, November 30, 2003
The Missing (IMDB) (Netflix)
Cate Blanchett is a Wild West frontier doctor with two daughters and no use for for her long-absent father (Tommy Lee Jones), who ran off to hang with the Native Americans years back. He's ostensibly returned for some doctoring and Cate's none too happy about seeing him. When one of her girls is kidnapped by slave-trading renegades, however, she needs his help, and thus is launched a story reminiscent of John Ford's classic The Searchers and the more recent The Last of the Mohicans. Directed by Ron Howard and featuring the least attractive Native American (Eric Schweig) seen in motion pictures, as the evil medicine man.
This is a tough one to assess—on a technical level, all the elements are there, and I was absorbed in the story as it unfolded, but nothing stuck to my ribs afterwards. Even though little is spared in terms of writing, well-portrayed characters, photography or violent action, it just doesn't have the "Searchers'" epic quality, nor "Mohicans'" sleek beauty and passion. It's not a failure, though, and absent the tough comparisons a reasonable pick for its empowered female lead and great scenery.
Cate Blanchett is a Wild West frontier doctor with two daughters and no use for for her long-absent father (Tommy Lee Jones), who ran off to hang with the Native Americans years back. He's ostensibly returned for some doctoring and Cate's none too happy about seeing him. When one of her girls is kidnapped by slave-trading renegades, however, she needs his help, and thus is launched a story reminiscent of John Ford's classic The Searchers and the more recent The Last of the Mohicans. Directed by Ron Howard and featuring the least attractive Native American (Eric Schweig) seen in motion pictures, as the evil medicine man.
This is a tough one to assess—on a technical level, all the elements are there, and I was absorbed in the story as it unfolded, but nothing stuck to my ribs afterwards. Even though little is spared in terms of writing, well-portrayed characters, photography or violent action, it just doesn't have the "Searchers'" epic quality, nor "Mohicans'" sleek beauty and passion. It's not a failure, though, and absent the tough comparisons a reasonable pick for its empowered female lead and great scenery.
Friday, November 28, 2003
In America (IMDB) (Netflix)
The confusing-but-intriguing trailer for this film appeared a year ago, but wasn't followed up with the movie. Often a re-launch is a sign of a project in deep trouble, but this proves to be the pleasant exception.
Director Jim Sheridan (My Left Foot, In the Name of the Father) and his daughters tell a very intimate, semi-autobiographical story of a young Irish family coming to New York City so that the dad (Paddy Considine) can make it as an actor. It's tough going, especially living in the tenement dominated by drug users, and weighed down by the memory of a young son who died under tragic circumstances.
Heavy stuff, and these days it might be the more difficult movie-going decision, but there's much more than the melodramatic plot points, and its ambition and quality far outweighs the emotional risk. It got to me in the same way as Nowhere in Africa, but with even more impact, through a more intimate visual style and rawer performances from Considine and Samantha Morton, plus thoroughly impressive theatrical debuts from Bolger sisters Sarah and Emma.
The confusing-but-intriguing trailer for this film appeared a year ago, but wasn't followed up with the movie. Often a re-launch is a sign of a project in deep trouble, but this proves to be the pleasant exception.
Director Jim Sheridan (My Left Foot, In the Name of the Father) and his daughters tell a very intimate, semi-autobiographical story of a young Irish family coming to New York City so that the dad (Paddy Considine) can make it as an actor. It's tough going, especially living in the tenement dominated by drug users, and weighed down by the memory of a young son who died under tragic circumstances.
Heavy stuff, and these days it might be the more difficult movie-going decision, but there's much more than the melodramatic plot points, and its ambition and quality far outweighs the emotional risk. It got to me in the same way as Nowhere in Africa, but with even more impact, through a more intimate visual style and rawer performances from Considine and Samantha Morton, plus thoroughly impressive theatrical debuts from Bolger sisters Sarah and Emma.
Bad Santa (IMDB) (Netflix)
Billy Bob Thornton is the worst department store Santa of all time: a self-soiling drunk, a womanizer and a crook, with a uniquely seasonal scam, partnering with little person Tony Cox as Santa's helper to crack the store's safe after all the children and sales associates are nestled safely in their beds. Thornton's conscience is nowhere to be found, at least not until the biggest loser in movie kid history makes his acquaintance, and even then it takes a determined seige of pathetic innocence. With the late John Ritter as the appalled store manager and Bernie Mac as the security guy, and a too-good-for-him Laura Graham as the bartender with a puzzling thing for men in red suits. Directed by Terry Swigoff of Ghost World and Crumb and produced by the Coen Brothers.
If this seems entirely unappealling, then "Bad Santa" wasn't written for you, and there's far more wholesome fare available. If, however, you can the see the twisted comedic possibilities, then come on in and enjoy the orgy of inappropriate, hate-yourself-for-laughing humor that would give a college sophomore pause. Only with Robert Duvall's performance in The Great Santini has an actor been more determined to be so unsympathetic, or so successful.
Billy Bob Thornton is the worst department store Santa of all time: a self-soiling drunk, a womanizer and a crook, with a uniquely seasonal scam, partnering with little person Tony Cox as Santa's helper to crack the store's safe after all the children and sales associates are nestled safely in their beds. Thornton's conscience is nowhere to be found, at least not until the biggest loser in movie kid history makes his acquaintance, and even then it takes a determined seige of pathetic innocence. With the late John Ritter as the appalled store manager and Bernie Mac as the security guy, and a too-good-for-him Laura Graham as the bartender with a puzzling thing for men in red suits. Directed by Terry Swigoff of Ghost World and Crumb and produced by the Coen Brothers.
If this seems entirely unappealling, then "Bad Santa" wasn't written for you, and there's far more wholesome fare available. If, however, you can the see the twisted comedic possibilities, then come on in and enjoy the orgy of inappropriate, hate-yourself-for-laughing humor that would give a college sophomore pause. Only with Robert Duvall's performance in The Great Santini has an actor been more determined to be so unsympathetic, or so successful.
Tuesday, November 25, 2003
Elf (IMDB) (Netflix)
In Swingers and Made, indie writer-director Jon Favreau chronicled the humorous, slightly pathetic lives of two hipsters manqué. Elf goes entirely the other way, with a big budget and Will Ferrell as a 6’3”, thirty-ish eight-year-old raised at the North Pole. Ferrell’s lacking the elfin necessities, and once he finally realizes his true human nature, strikes out for New York City to re-unite with his biological father, a “naughty list” mainstay in the form of Mr. James Caan.
There’s nothing hip about Ferrell’s character, fortunately, from the green-and-yellow elf suit to his complete naïveté about the world, least of all regarding the hard-boiled Big Apple (sorry, it was there, begging to go on the page). He’s as completely clueless, trusting and energetic as a puppy, and the rest of the cast (notably Bob Newhart, Mary Steenburgen and Zooey Deschanel) wisely stay low-key to maximize the effect. The climactic sequence doesn’t have nearly the impact one would hope for, but this is a strong mainstream showing for Mr. Favreau, and he owes almost all of its success to Ferrell’s talent for sweet self-mockery.
In Swingers and Made, indie writer-director Jon Favreau chronicled the humorous, slightly pathetic lives of two hipsters manqué. Elf goes entirely the other way, with a big budget and Will Ferrell as a 6’3”, thirty-ish eight-year-old raised at the North Pole. Ferrell’s lacking the elfin necessities, and once he finally realizes his true human nature, strikes out for New York City to re-unite with his biological father, a “naughty list” mainstay in the form of Mr. James Caan.
There’s nothing hip about Ferrell’s character, fortunately, from the green-and-yellow elf suit to his complete naïveté about the world, least of all regarding the hard-boiled Big Apple (sorry, it was there, begging to go on the page). He’s as completely clueless, trusting and energetic as a puppy, and the rest of the cast (notably Bob Newhart, Mary Steenburgen and Zooey Deschanel) wisely stay low-key to maximize the effect. The climactic sequence doesn’t have nearly the impact one would hope for, but this is a strong mainstream showing for Mr. Favreau, and he owes almost all of its success to Ferrell’s talent for sweet self-mockery.
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