Ang Lee's
Brokeback Mountain
Opens Friday, December 9, 2005

Reviewed by Frank J. Avella

Brokeback Mountain is an audacious piece of cinema--an atypical love story that soars above most of the films of 2005. The lead characters happen to be male. The men happen to be cowboys. The cowboys happen to fall in love...with each other! The time period, which feels like a century ago, is actually the early 1960’s into the early 1980’s. And the place is Wyoming (and Texas) where not much has changed in a century in terms of social acceptance or intellectual development, which is probably why it feels like such a period piece. (I completely own up to AND am proud of the Blue state bias obvious in the last sentence.)

Beautifully scripted by Larry McMurtry (Lonesome Dove) and Diana Ossana, based on a short story by Annie Proulx, the spare plot involves the meeting of two ranch hands, who are hired to tend sheep on Brokeback Mountain. The brooding, laconic Ennis Del Mar (Heath Ledger) and the animated, aptly named Jack Twist (Jake Gyllenhaal) soon find themselves with ample amounts of alone-time. An intense sexual attraction begins to develope--one that neither truly comprehend. That infatuation soon metamorphoses into deep love, which they understand even less.

Once Ennis and Jack leave their beloved mountain, they are forced into respective fake “real-life” existences. Both marry and have children, but four years later they meet up again and begin an infrequent, but intense affair.

Heath Ledger is a revelation as Ennis. Nothing this actor has done in the past (even his powerful, if too brief, turn in Monster’s Ball) indicated he was capable of such a rich, nuanced, heartbreaking performance. Ledger crawls deep under the skin of this seemingly simple rancher and tears open the painful yearning he can’t understand or control. Ledger’s acting is so raw and honest it flabberghasts the viewer. This is the acting performance of the year, one the Academy cannot overlook.

Because Ledger is so extraordinary, it would be easy to underestimate the power of Jake Gyllenhaal’s work. Although the film doesn’t seem to devote the same time and tenderness to Jack Twist’s world as it does to Ennis’, Gyllenhaal is fearless in his approach and nails the hurt, desire and defiance of someone who doesn’t fit in the time and place he was born into...and doesn’t quite understand why--nor does he know how he’s supposed to behave.

The film more than hints that Jack falls victim to his untimately insisting on being himself, sexually, but the true victim is Ennis since he can never fully embrace his desires.

The wonderful supporting cast is led by an indelible Michelle WIlliams as Ennis’ distraught wife. Anne Hathaway impresses in a part that is too underwritten. Anna Faris and Linda Cardellini leave their respective marks in smaller roles. And Roberta Maxwell manages to be penetrating and heart-wrenching in an brief but potent scene.

Ang Lee’s direction is deft and uncompromising. He has proven before in gems such as Sense and Sensibility, The Ice Storm and Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, that he can take on practically any subject matter and capture it’s true essence. This may be his best work.

Gustavo Santaolalla’s score is gorgeous and perfectly suits the film.

The picture is stunningly photographed by Rodrigo Prieto. From its sweeping mountain vistas to Ennis’ simple farmhouse, Prieto allows the audience to feel as if they are actually there with the characters, not just onlookers.

We also get the sense of heartland inertia necessary to believe that such backward views could exist in the turbulent and sexually-liberating milieu of the sixties and seventies. The irony being that if Matthew Shepard’s death taught us anything it’s that these dangerous and repressive mores exist and, actually, thrive today.

Brokeback Mountain represents quite a historic leap for a film dealing with homosexuality. And although the film shouldn’t be labeled a “gay film,” it is quite a landmark film in it’s unabashed sincerity with it’s portrayal of ‘the love that dare not speak it’s name!’

Not since the soapy debacle Making Love in 1982 has a mainstream film dealt so openly with love between two men. That film was far too careful and contrite with cardboard characters and whiny protagonists, directed and scripted in a pathetically self-important Hollywood-ized style. Philadelphia’s lovers were never allowed to actually show any real love towards one another. Even many a gay-themed indie are sanitized, politically-correct concoctions carefully made so as not to offend anyone or twinkie flesh-laced sex comedies that have as as much depth as Paris Hilton has.

The remarkable achievement of Brokeback Mountain is that it is daring because it allows it’s characters to be real and behave in a painfully honest manner. For that and for making a brilliant and groundbreaking film, Focus Features and the entire Brokeback team should be congratulated, showered with accolades and, most importantly, the film itself should been seen and appreciated.

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Debra Granik’s
Down to the Bone
Opened November 25, 2005
Quad Cinema
34 West 13th Street New York, New York

Starring: Vera Farmiga; Hugh Dillon; Clint Jordan; Caridad 'La Bruja'
De La Luz; Jasper Daniels; and Taylor Foxhall

Reviewed by Eleanor Goldberg

Dark, depressing and harrowingly realistic, Debra Granik’s, Down to
the Bone, tells the compelling story of a suburban mother’s drug
induced decline, with no neat happily-ever-after conclusion in sight.

Unhappily married and a mother of two young boys, Irene (Vera
Farmiga) struggles to sustain her passionless marriage, while
discreetly and regularly using cocaine to relieve her misery. Irene’s
painstaking dependence is methodically revealed in a series of heart
wrenching scenes, one of which being when she offers to pay her drug
dealer with her son’s meager birthday money.

Reaching the point of sheer desperation, Irene admits herself into a
drug rehabilitation facility that mirrors the drab and dull existence from
which she is trying to escape. Granik finally injects some much-needed
humor onto the scene, as the fellow patients work towards their
recovery and engage in interpretive and therapeutic classes.

While at the facility, Irene develops a steamy affair with Bob
(Hugh Dillon), a nurse and former drug addict and the two rely on
each other’s tenuous recovery to stay sober. However, once Irene leaves
the facility, the film takes an unpredictable turn when one of them
relapses and drives the other to revert to their old, self-destructive
ways.

Vera Farmiga and Hugh Dillon deliver stellar performances throughout
and lend the film the element of tragedy on which it thrives. Vera
Farmiga will next appear opposite Paul Walker in Running Scared,
in January 2006 and is currently filming Departed, a police drama
starring Matt Damon and Leonardo DiCaprio. Hugh Dillon starred in
Bruce McDonald’s Hard Core Lego and starred opposite Ethan
Hawke in Assault on Precinct 13.

The strength in this film lies in Farmiga’s portrayal of Irene’s poignant
and excruciating suffering, which she conveys with gifted subtlety and
quietude. A mere cock of her head and a half smile reveals the mounds
of deep seeded pain and quelled rage which she is desperately trying
to release.

The cinematography further enhances the dreariness and the banality
of each scene, as the camera vividly captures the endless snow fall, the
dullness of Irene’s town and the dilapidated nature of her home.
The camera retains the film’s integrity by continuously focusing on
the ordinariness of the events and people and objects that comprise
this very real film.

The film also succeeds in raising questions about the nature of
patriotism and the ways in which the working class is overlooked in
American society. At the core of this movie lies the question of how
the very poor, leading redundant and colorless lives are expected to
find meaningful and healthful outlets with very little means.

Honored with Best Director and a Special Jury Prize for Acting at the
2004 Sundance Film Festival, Down to the Bone shies away from
histrionics and is replete with genuine emotion, profound symbolism
and the stark reminder that for every recovering addict, each day marks
a new and unchartered challenge.

 

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Craig Lucas'
The Dying Gaul
Opens November 4, 2005
Landmark's Sunshine Cinema
143 East Houston Street, New York

Reviewed by Frank J. Avella on June 28, 2005
at the Lincoln Center Tribute to Campbell Scott

The Dying Gaul represents the impressive directorial debut of acclaimed playwright, Craig Lucas (Prelude to a Kiss, Reckless). Lucas, who has also penned a few screenplays (Longtime Companion, The Secret Lives of Dentists) seems a natural behind the camera and his filmic initiation is, for the most part, a triumph.

The Dying Gaul (adapted by Lucas from his stage play) is simultaneously an indictment of the avarice and hedonism of Hollywood as well as a meditation on the dangers of deception, self and otherwise.

Peter Sarsgaard plays Robert, a struggling screenwriter who finally snags an opportunity to sell a script and pocket a million dollars. The problem is that the studio insists he change a key character from male to female, killing any homosexual angle and, in turn, bastardizing and commercializing Robert’s very personal project.

Robert eventually capitulates and finds himself sexually seduced by Jeffrey (Campbell Scott), the powermad studio head - they embark on a toxic affair despite the fact that Jeffrey has a wife, Elaine (Patricia Clarkson) and two children.

Through an enveloping and elaborate set of plot points, Elaine discovers that Robert and Jeffrey are having an affair, sparking a series of astonishing and shattering events that forever change our three protagonists.

The success of the film hinges on the strength of the three lead actors - and Lucas is savvy enough to have cast his work to perfection.

Peter Sarsgaard is playfully sexy, intensely intriguing and downright creepy as the grieving writer, who proves, ironically, to be the ultimate survivor.

Indie queen and thesp-extraordinaire, Patricia Clarkson, tackles the complex role of fascinated friend/scorned wife with admirable aplomb and is fearlessly triumphant in etching a nuanced portrait of a frustrated artist forced into stagnation.

The most difficult role is that of Jeffrey - and the genius in Campbell Scott’s portrayal is that he could have easily opted for the cliches normally associated with a studio head (greedy, artistically-challenged, non-intellectual). Instead, Scott gives us an authentic person who has become morally bankrupt by the Hollyworld he must exist in - yet somehow he isn't quite lost yet. Jeffrey struggles with his dual nature, artistically and sexually. In many respects, he’s a true bisexual. He is a control freak who is, himself, spinning out of control - and Scott knows just when to turn it up then tone it down. It is a deeply penetrating and affecting performance.

The Dying Gaul is a visual feast. Cinematographer Bobby Bukowski exquisitely captures the chilly, spiritually-vapid world of contemporary Hollywood.

Lucas proves to be such an assured director (the continuous sense of foreboding is downright chilling) that one can forgive the all-too-abrupt ending followed by a coda that should have had more of a sting.

Regardless, he and the Gaul crew should be commended for creating a devastating piece of cinema that never compromises. And how rare is that in the US in 2005?

If you buy a ticket to this film expecting to see a typical war movie filled with battle scenes and lots of blood and guts, you will be sorely disappointed in Jarhead. Actually, the only up close and personal fatality occurs early in the film during a training exercise! This two-hour film is the very personal true story of former marine Anthony Swafford (Jake Gyllenhaal) and is based on his best-selling book of the same name.

Not exactly a recruiting commercial for the Marine Corps (even the film's title is offensive to marines unless used among themselves), Oscar-winning director Sam Mendes (American Beauty) had no official cooperation from the corps in the making of this film, rather two former marine sergeants (and Swafford, I assume) provided the technical assistance.

The story, which starts in 1989, follows colege dropout Swafford to boot camp where he is greeted by the typical screaming D.I., a role created by Lou Gossett, Jr. in An Officer and a Gentleman (even some of the lines sounded familiar.) Following boot camp, he is selected for sniper training by Staff Sergeant Sykes, a role brilliantly played by Oscar winner Jamie Foxx (Ray). Soon, Swafford's platoon is off to Saudi Arabia to join the forces of Operation Desert Shield.

For a film released during another Iraq-US conflict, Jarhead is strangely non-political. There are a few references to the arming of Sadaam by the US during the Iran-Iraq war, and the inevitable comment about "war for oil," but Swafford's buddy Troy (Peter Saarsgard) typifies the attitude of the platoon when he says, "(Screw) the politics! We're here and that's that, so shut the (hell) up!"

The strongest scenes in the film include a "friendly fire" incident when the platoon is attacked in Kuwait by two A-10s (although strangely bloodless), the total destruction they witness along the "highway of death," and a long-anticipated sniper opportunity when shooter Swaford and spotter Troy target an Iraqi officer in an airport control tower.

Jarhead is beautifully filmed, particulary the scenes among the oil field fires and the closeups of handsome Gyllenhaal, whose character grows from a dopey, clueless green marine, to a professional, if rather cynical, warrior. Along with his buddy Troy, Swafford brings a sense of decency to a situation where one's moral compass is far from a fixed thing.

The film, however, is never downbeat and is filled with humorous moments including an accidental flare detonation, an impromptu strip tease by the platoon for a TV crew and Swafford's bugle-less renditions of revilee and a Stevie Wonder tune.

All three lead actors give outstanding performances, with Foxx possibly headed for another Oscar nomination, this time in the supporting category. Also, Chris Cooper (Seabiscuit) and Dennis Haystert (24), are excellent in minor roles as senior officers.

In a poignant voiceover, Swafford talks about holding a rifle as the most significant thing a marine will ever do with his hands, "no matter if later on he uses them to love a woman, or to change his baby's diapers."

As a haggard-looking Vietnam War veteran comes aboard the platoon's bus back in California to welcome them home, Swafford's final voiceover is heard: "All wars are different, and all wars are the same."

This is a film that can be enjoyed by former marines (even if some may not admit it), Desert Shield/Storm veterans, and anyone with an interest in the making of marines, military life in general, or how the prospect of war and sudden death (or heroism) can change a person.

There is a lot to admire about this film, and if you don't mind the lack of combat scenes, you will enjoy Jarhead. No, this is not the Full Metal Jacket of Desert Storm. It's much more like a "lite" version of Deer Hunter, only with a lot more laughs.

(Rated R for profanity and scenes of charred corpses.)

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Richard Sheppard's
The Matador
Opens Dec. 23, 2005

Bye-bye Bond, Hello Brosnan

Starring: Pierce Brosnan, Greg Kinnear and Hope Davis.

Reviewed by Christina M. Hinke

The Matador opens with a shot of Pierce Brosnan in bed with a woman. We’ve all seen that before. What we haven’t seen is his rummaging through her purse to look for her nail polish and then sauntering off to the bathroom where he rips some pieces of toilet tissue to place between his toes. And then he proceeds to paints his toe nails. This is just the beginning of the unraveling of his on-screen persona.

Brosnan plays Julian Noble, a hit man having a mid-life crisis. He’s a bit overweight, drinks a lot, has a bad haircut and a mustache and he is a sex fiend.
The Bond suave is gone. He is the anti-Bond. And to prove it, the film gives
a few sly nods to the 007 series. A shaking of a drink tumbler is just one.

The biggest ‘wink wink’ Brosnan bestows on us is that this is the best performance he has ever given. He is both funny and tragic throughout this dark comedy. Even though Julian is vulgar, Brosnan finds just the right (character) mix to keep the
audience rooting for him. Perfect comedic timing from Greg Kinnear, Hope
Davis and Brosnan and a tight script from Richard Sheppard make this film
one of the freshest hit man movies to come our way in a long time.

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Susan Stroman’s
The Producers

Starring: Nathan Lane; Matthew Broderick; Una Thurman; Gary Beach; Will Ferrell

Based on the Mel Brook’s Movie and the Mel Brook’s Musical

Reviewed by Terry Maloney

What can one say about a musical film of a smash hit Broadway show which was based on a classic 1968 Mel Brooks movie? Any serious fan of Broadway or cinema is familiar with the story and can recite by heart many of the classic lines.

"I'm wearing a cardboard belt!," "Under the right circumstances you can make more money with a flop than with a hit," "I was born in Dusseldorf and that is why they call me Rolf" and "Did you ever think you'd love a show called 'Springtime for Hitler' "?

Does the new movie hold its own with the 1968 Zero Mostel/Gene Wilder version? No, it doesn't. This very theatrical film drags in between the song and dance numbers. But this is a musical after all and the singing and dancing is wonderful!

Nathan Lane, one of the funniest men of the 21st century, is hilarious as producer Max Bialystock. He possesses perfect comic timing and a strong Broadway voice. However, his co-star Matthew Broderick seems awkward and cartoonish as the nebbish accountant Leo Bloom (a role played with a weird pathos by Gene Wilder in the original film).

But when Broderick sings and dances, he is a revelation! From "I Wanna Be A Producer" to "Prisoners of Love" (whether dancing solo or with others) Broderick does a mean Gene Kelly imitation which more than overshadows his non-musical interludes.

Uma Thurman as the blonde bombshell Swedish "secretary" Ulla acts well and dances adequately, but she lacks the raw sexuality and delicate features of Lee Merriweather (1968) or Cady Huffman (Broadway). Will Ferrell overacts as Frank Liebkind the Nazi playwright and he can't match the lovable insanity which Kenneth Mars ("Malcolm in the Middle") brought to the role in the original film.

Original Broadway cast member and Tony Award Winner Gary Beach is perfectly cast as the flamboyant director Roger DeBries. His performance of "Keep it Gay" is a classic and he is also excellent as "Hitler" (a part played as an aging hippie by the late Dick Shawn in the 1968 film).

One major drawback of most filmed musical shows is there is no audience reaction, which in live theatre provides so much of the energy and excitement. A few people at the screening I attended (including Joan Rivers!) applauded briefly after some musical numbers, but stopped quickly when they remembered that neither Lane nor Broderick were in the house.

If you (like this critic) couldn't get tickets to see Lane and Broderick on Broadway or were wondering what all the fuss was about, this film is definitely worth ten 10 bucks (which is one-tenth of what you would have paid to see it on the Great White Way).

Or, better yet, rent the original 1968 film, laugh for 88 minutes straight, and wonder why comic geniuses Mostel and Wilder never did another "buddy film" together!

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