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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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