Roger Donaldson’s
The Bank Job
Opens Friday, March 7, 2008
Starring: Jason
Statham (War, Crank, The
Italian Job) and Saffron Burrows (Reign
Over Me, Enigma)
Reviewed by John
Janusz
The Bank Job,
an action thriller about a bank heist set in early
1970s London, is inspired by a true story. This
film has all the makings of a real man’s
movie with sex, scandals, mystery, espionage,
graphic violence, corruption, profanity and the
gratuitous nudity of beautiful women.
In a welcome change from some recent super-action
roles, in this film, the hero (played by Jason
Statham) is an anti-hero. Terry is a luxury automobile
dealer with an unstable past. He is married with
two children and he owes a large debt to some
wrong people. Terry is approached by an old flame
with a golden opportunity, a chance to rob a bank
vault of its safety deposit boxes. Terry sees
this as his last chance for the one big score
that will finally put the life of small time thievery
behind him, letting him live happily ever after
with his wife and family. He and his most trusted
mates form a gang and go for the gold. What they
do not realize is that the contents of these boxes
belong to some very prominent and dangerous individuals,
individuals who will stop at nothing to regain
their possessions. But escaping the police becomes
the least of Terry’s and his gang’s
worries. In this story the bank thieves turn out
to be the most innocent among all of the parties
involved.
If you enjoyed
Ronin, Payback or The Italian
Job you will love The Bank Job.
The Bank Job
is directed by veteran filmmaker Roger Donaldson
(No Way Out, Thirteen Days,
The Recruit). It is written by Dick Clement
and Ian La Frenais (Across the Universe,
Flushed Away, Still Crazy and
Tracey Ullman: A Class Act)
Asia Argento in Oliver
Assayas' Boarding Gate
Olivier
Assayas'
Boarding Gate
Starring:
Asia Argento;Michael Madsen; Miles Rennberg; Carl
Ng; and
Kelly Lin
Reviewed
by Julia Sirmons
Asia Argento in
a black bra, thong and stilettos. Holding a gun.
I’ve got
you, right? That’s all it’s going
to take to have you shell out you ten clams for
Boarding Gate, the new neo-B-movie existential
thriller from French director Olivier Assayas
(Irma Vep, Clean, Demonlover).
But there’s
plenty more to enjoy in this fun, intriguing,
surprisingly philosophical and unsettling film.
For one, there’s
a refreshing amount of depth and intrigue to Argento,
a fascinating actress who’s made some unfortunate
(albeit often interesting) career choices in the
past. She’s definitely gritty and sexy enough
for her role as Sandra, the tough, enterprising
sexpot and Jill-of-all-underworld trades who goes
on a transcontinental and transgressive adventure
over the course of the film. But there’s
also a lonely, vulnerable quality perfectly suited
for this complex role as a strong yet frail and
lonely person trying to make her way in a dangerous
world that often seems incognizant of her very
existence.
There are two other
performances of note: the first an all-too-brief
appearance by the too infrequently seen Michael
Madsen as Miles, Sandra’s ex, with whom
she had a very kinky relationship. Sparks –
be they of passion or hatred – are still
flying and an extended conversation between the
two in which they dissect their relationship is
one of the films most deliciously deviant and
best. Kelly Lin, already a star in Asia, turns
in a chilling performance as the devilishly cool
and staid half of a couple (her husband is played
by Carl Ng) with whom Sandra also becomes extricated
with in a complex and mysterious plot involving
S&M gone wrong, drug trafficking and shady
international finance.
Assayas has always
had strong detractors, but even fans may not enjoy
the convoluted and ultimately unexplained almost
existentially meaningless plot. But the impenetrable
nature of the story falls cohesively in line with
what Assayas is trying to say about the seedy
side of the postmodern world. His deconstruction
of traditional thriller aesthetics and B-movie
conventions coheres well with his aims as well.
Fuzzy shots that come into focus, soft misty cinematographic
look contribute to an atmosphere of mystery and
confusion.
It’s dark,
confusing, thought provoking, and still a helluva
lot of sexy fun. Worth more than just the bra
and the gun alone, I’d say.
Jon Poll’s
Charlie Bartlett
Opens Friday, February 22, 2008
Starring: Robert
Downey; Anton Yelchin: Hope Davis: Kat Dennings:
Murphey Bivens
Reviewed at the
2007 Tribeca Film Festival by Wendy R. Williams
Charlie Barlett
is a quirky charming saga that tells the
story of the new guy at a suburban a high school,
a charismatic misfit who parlays his unassuming
wit and charm to become the most popular kid on
campus. And along his route to becoming “prom
king,” he falls in love with the principal’s
quasi-Goth daughter Susan (a charming Kat Dennings
with lots of red lipstick) and finds his nemesis
in person of the manically-depressed-alcoholic-high-school-principal,
Mr. Gardner (Robert Downey, Jr.).
Here is a quote from the Tribeca Film Festival
press release, “Failing to fit in at a high
school run by a disenchanted principal (Robert
Downey, Jr.), awkward Charlie Bartlett (Anton
Yelchin) is running out of options for making
friends--until he names himself the school "psychiatrist."
When he starts doling out advice, and the occasional
pill, to classmates, his popularity soars in this
witty take on teenage insecurity.”
This movie is funny on so many levels. Charlie
lives in gothic mansion with his eccentric mother
Marilyn (played by the mega talented Hope Davis),
with whom he has a Hansel-and-Gretel-in-the-woods
relationship. The family obviously has money (there
is a chauffeured Bentley), but are also obviously
over come by some mysterious melancholy. There
are so many hysterical scenes: (1) Charlie looking
up psychiatric drugs in pharmacological texts
and then surfing psychiatric couches describing
the exact symptoms that can be cured by the pill-of
–the-month (2) Charlie setting up his psychiatric
office in the men’s room (he in one stall
the supplicant in the other – Catholic anyone?).
This movie has an amazing tone and the credit
can only be given to the director, John Poll.
He kept his symphony under tight control.
And now about Robert Downey in his role as the
principal, Mr. Gardner. Downey plays Gardner as
a total whack job, but as the scariest kind of
whacko – the one where all of the rage is
tamped down so far you can only “see”
it when the hairs stand up on the back of your
neck. The scene where Downey is drunkenly shooting
mechanized toy boats in his swimming pool should
be taught in acting class. He is terrifying but
he also seems trustworthy??? He is enraged by
Charlie; but who doesn’t become enraged
when forced to watch someone else walk on water?
Ramin Bahrani’s
Chop Shop
Opened February 22, 2008
Reviewed by Mindy Hyman
“A Whole New View of
Making It In New York”
The amount of care
and planning that Ramin Bahrani put into the production
of his latest film, Chop Shop is evident
throughout every single scene. The characters
are so intricately portrayed that the viewer slides
right into the story, losing oneself in the plot
and forgetting that he/she is in a movie theater.
CHOP SHOP redefines the meaning of independent
filmmaking through the director’s ability
to create a rawness, which only occurs, in real
life.
Bahrani and his
cinematographer, Michael Simmonds, spent months
in the Queens neighborhood where the film takes
place in order to get a feel for the community.
The result was a natural script.
The storyline depicts
the life of a twelve-year-old boy and his sixteen-year-old
sister one summer in New York City. Alejandro
and his sister Isamar (these are their real names)
are orphans who live and work in an area called
Willet’s Point, Queens, also known as the
“Iron Triangle.” Willet’s Point
is a twenty-block stretch of auto body repair
shops. The businesses are called “chop shops”
because they use parts from stolen cars, which
are stripped, or chopped up, for their parts.
Alejandro plays
the part of one of the workers that steers passing
cars into the shop that pays him. Alejandro and
his sister Isamar dream of having their own business
and so they set off to make this a reality. The
two hustle to save money throughout the summer
to make their dream of buying a food cart come
true. The film reveals the passion and love that
these kids have for each other and their perpetual
determination to create a better life for themselves.
Chop Shop
takes us on an intimate journey into the harsh
world of what “making it in New York”
can encompass to some New Yorkers. Moreover, the
film teaches us that love can get us through any
type of struggle.
If you enjoy movies
that depict real-life New York scenarios not often
seen, then this is a film for you.
Paulo Morelli’s
City of Men
Starring: Douglas Silva,
Darlan Cunha, Jonathan Hassgensen, Rodrigo Dos
Santos, Camila Monteiro, Naima Silva, Eduardo
“BR” Piranha, Luciando Vidigal, and
Pedro Henrique.
Reviewed by Marguerite Daniels
20 years ago a
green Dan Quayle drew comparison between himself
and John F. Kennedy and received the famed verbal
smack-down response from Lloyd Bentsen who uttered:
“Senator, I served with Jack Kennedy. I
knew Jack Kennedy. Jack Kennedy was a friend of
mine. Senator, you're no Jack Kennedy.”
Sadly, the same can be said of Paulo Morelli’s
City of Men, a film which is being billed
as a companion piece to the Oscar®-nominated
City of God, directed by Fernando Meirelles.
City of Men is no City of God.
There are obvious
similarities: the names of the films are similar,
both films are shot in the favelas of Rio, both
are coming of age stories, and both films share
the same young actors, but unfortunately for City
of Men it lacks the searing direction found
in the original film and the matching-monikered
television series. The film borrows the frantic
action-filled high adrenalin rush of City
of God but doesn’t deliver the poignant
desperation of the original film, and without
perilous anxiety the film falls flat.
This isn’t
to say that I didn’t like City of Men,
I liked it fine, but I really wanted to love City
of Men as much as I loved City of God
and City of Men, the television series.
In City of Men we are reintroduced to
Acerola “Ace” (played beautifully
by Douglas Silva) and Laranjinha “Wallace”
(the endearing Darlan Cunha). Those familiar with
the television series (and it does pay to have
familiarity with the television series before
seeing this film) will be pleased to see Ace and
Wallace fully grown at eighteen. Both are enduring
personal hardships: Ace has become a father, and
Wallace is searching for the father he never knew.
While they seek to understand themselves, a secret
from the past threatens to destroy both of them,
and the two young men are thrust into opposing
sides of a gang war. And what a scary gang war
it is. Everyone’s lives are altered in the
favelas as the ruling drug dealer is challenged.
Innocent people die, families are torn apart.
None of this is new territory for the series.
The new theme in City of Men deals with
how the lack of fathers in the favelas affects
the young people. Alas, the long-lost father theme
isn’t subtly executed. Viewers of the film
are repeatedly told that Ace shouldn’t be
like his father and abandon his son. When Wallace
finally locates his father (played masterfully
by the ruggedly handsome Rodrigo Santos) the audience
is told over and over again that he’s a
bad father for not caring for his son.
Of course, we already
know all of this. The boys have grown up in dangerous,
gun-infested shantytown, after all. What’s
of greater concern in this film is a theme that
is never explored: even with present and available
paternal units, how could our fair heroes find
safe-havens in such squalor? The same economic
divide that creates the environment still exists,
and the missing daddy issue just seems pat. Without
real social change in Brazil, criminal enterprises
will continue to prosper.
So, ok,
City of Men isn’t a great film,
but the art direction presented by Adriano Goldman
(Director of Photography) and Rafael Ronconi (Art
Director) is equally picturesque and haunting,
and I’ll be purchasing the soundtrack (kudos
to composer Antonio Pinto) as soon as it is available.
I suppose this is a classic example of familiarity
breeding contempt since I know the story of Ace
and Wallace well. Over the past six years I’ve
watched Ace and Wallace grow-up. I guess I simply
yearned for a more poignant vehicle for their
send-off.
Oren Jacoby's
Constantine’s Sword
Opens in select theaters Friday, April 18th, 2008
Reviewed by Alejandra
Serret
Constantine’s
Sword, a thought provoking documentary, delves
into the controversial debate on religion, and
how the institution has been used as a weapon
throughout history. The documentary follows James
Carroll, a writer and former Catholic priest,
on his exploration of the darker side of Christianity.
Carroll, with the help of Oscar nominated documentarian
Oren Jacoby, travel to different parts of the
world in hopes of unearthing and bringing to light
a side of Christianity that is often over looked
and ignored.
The documentary
begins in Colorado Springs at the U.S. Air Force
Academy. A Jewish cadet tells of the constant
discrimination he deals with because of his faith.
The Evangelist Mega Church proselytizes at the
Air Force Academy in an aggressive, forceful manner.
This particular story becomes the basis of Constantine’s
Sword. It serves as the foundation for Carroll’s
argument—that the institution of religion
is used and has been used to breed hatred, separating
rather than unifying.
Carroll talks of
his own past, as the eldest of son of a large
Irish Catholic Family—his father a decorated
Army General. From a young age Carroll had felt
it his duty to serve the church. He became a priest
in 1969 and served for five years. He argues it
was during this time period that he was able to
ask the most challenging questions of the church—beginning
with its violent and turbulent history. It is
what led him to leave the priesthood.
He travels
to Europe and speaks with historians on the beginnings
of Christianity. This unearths the story of Constantine,
a Roman Emperor, who was violent. Carroll’s
journey through Europe takes us through the Crusades,
the Inquisition, and the Holocaust. These religious
wars all targeted a specific group of people based
on their religious differences. Carroll beautifully
links this turbulent history with the way in which
Evangelism is proselytized at the U.S. Air Force
Academy. The documentary ends on a truly scary
note: President Bush’s declaration of the
current war in Iraq as a “crusade on terror…a
war of good vs. evil.” He compares Bush
to Hitler, begging the question: what does that
make us as citizens? Accomplices? Constantine’s
Sword beautifully tackles a truly complex
topic.
For more information about
Constantine's Sword, log onto: constantinessword.com
Julian Schnabel's
The Diving Bell and the Butterfly
French with English Subtitles
Opens November 30, 2007
Starring: Mathieu
Amalric (Jean-Dominique Bauby); Emmanuelle Seigner
(Céline Desmoulins); Marie-Josée
Croze (Henriette Durand); Anne Consigny (Claude);
and Olatz Lopez Garmendia (Marie Lopez).
Reviewed by Wendy
R. Williams
Julian Schnabel
(Basquait, Before Night Falls)
has made a gorgeous, sensual feast of a film about
the sad story of Jean Dominique Bauby, the editor
of Elle France, who at the young age
of forty-three suffered a stroke that left him
in "locked-in" condition. Unable to
move any part of his body except his left eye,
Bauby (played by Mathieu Amalric), wrote a book
(also titled The Diving Bell and the Butterfly)
about his experience.
Working from a
script by Ronald Harwood (The Pianist,
Love in the Time of Cholera, Oliver
Twist) the first half of the film is told
through the camera-eye of Bauby's left eye. As
the story opens, we as Bauby's eye, awake to see
kindly worried people hovering over our bed telling
us that we have had a stroke and now that we are
awake we should be just fine. Then one of the
doctors asks Bauby to say his name, he does and
no one hears him except us, the film audience.
Bauby then narrates
his own movie, telling us the story of his old
and new life. Bauby's affliction has not made
him into a saint. He is instead the same sardonic
hedonist that he was before the accident.
The story follows
Bauby's work with his gorgeous therapists, Henriette
(played by Marie-Josée Croze) and Marie
(Schnabel's wife Olatz Lopez Garmendia). Henriette
devises a method by which Bauby can communicate
with the world - a chart with the letters of the
French alphabet arranged in most-used order. She
painstakingly goes through the alphabet and Bauby
blinks when she reaches a letter that he wishes
to use. Bauby signals that he would like to write
the book that he had contracted to write before
the accident and the therapist make arrangements
with his publisher to have yet another beautiful
woman take dictation, Claude (played by Marie
Anne Consigny).
This film is never
maudlin; it is beautifully shot by Janusz Kaminski,
also Steven Spielberg's cinematographer. We leave
the viewpoint of Bauby's eye and see the world
around him. The hospital room is a green marvel
and the hospital itself is located by the sea;
the entire setting is lovely. And to paraphrase
Dr. Seuss, oh the things Bauby saw. Bauby receives
visitors, the gorgeous mother of his three children,
Celine (played by Emmanuelle Seigner). We see
them on the beach with Celine's skirt being lifted
by the wind. His equally gorgeous children visit
and play in the sand. And Bauby's beautiful view
of the world is not restricted to his present
"diving bell." We follow the butterfly
of his imagination as he remembers his past and
takes flights of fancy into the future. And we
follow him as he drives former girlfriend to Lourdes,
her hair beautifully blowing in the wind. Bauby
was a lustful man and the film is permeated with
Bauby's (and Schnabel's) lust for life.
Bell is
one of the best films I have seen this year and
that is quite a complement with films like Gone
Baby Gone and Before the Devil Knows
You're Dead for competition. Schnabel won
the prize for Best Director at the Cannes Film
Festival for Bell and this film will
surely be an Oscar contender for Schnabel, Harwood,
Kiminski and the talented (and gorgeous) cast.
Leelee Sobieski and Al Pacino
in John Avnet's 88 Minutes
Jon Avnet's
88 Minutes
Opens Friday, April 18th, 2008
Reviewed by Alejandra
Serret
After sitting through
88 Minutes, it’s hard to believe that
Al Pacino, the film’s star, is in fact the
same man who played Michael Corleone (The
Godfather Trilogy), Tony Montana (Scarface),
and Lt. Colonel Frank Slade (Scent of a Woman),
a role that won him the Oscar in 1992. These characters
were interesting, complex, multi-layered, flawed—human.
And yet, over recent years, the characters he
has played have varied little: Detective Will
Dormer (Insomnia), Walter Burke (The
Recruit), Walter Abrams (Two for the
Money), and his most recent, Dr. Jack Gramm
(88 Minutes). They are so similar; they
begin to blend, leaving little to the viewer’s
imagination and to the actor’s creativity.
We’ve all seen Pacino play the lonely, intense,
slightly insane, middle-aged man. Unfortunately,
his role in 88 Minutes as Dr. Jack Gramm
does little to dissuade the sinking feeling that
Pacino’s comfortable, and maybe even a bit
content, to play the same character again and
again.
88 Minutes,
Directed by Jon Avnet (Up Close and Personal
and Fried Green Tomatoes) and written
by Gary Scott Thompson (The Fast and the Furious)
is a psychological thriller. Dr. Jack Gramm, a
forensic psychiatrist and respected professor,
makes a living tracking and profiling serial killers.
The film begins in 1997, with the grisly death
of a young woman, the work of the notorious Seattle
Slayer. Dr. Gramm’s testimony convinces
the jury to find Jon Forster, played by Neal McDonough,
guilty of the crime. Jump ahead to present day
and it’s the night before Forster’s
execution. Gramm receives a cryptic phone call
stating that he has 88 minutes left to live. A
series of incidents follow: his graduate student
is found dead in her apartment, the woman he went
home with the night before is also murdered (both
women are, of course, killed in the same “Seattle
Slayer” way), a bomb threat, and the persistent
phone calls that remind him of how much time he
has left. It is Gramm against the clock. He suspects
everyone around him: his students (there are many—played
by Leelee Sobieski, Benjamin McKenzie, Amy Brenneman),
his friends/colleagues, his student’s boyfriend,
the list goes on. As the film progresses and the
plot unravels, we learn of Gramm’s difficult
past and the significance of 88 minutes.
Suspense
and an intricate, intelligent plot are necessary
elements of a successful thriller. 88 Minutes’
weak plot does little to inspire suspense
or even surprise. The greatest moments in a thriller
are in collecting the clues and piecing them together.
There was nothing of this in 88 Minutes.
No subtle hints alluding to the truth, just a
mess of over-acting and obnoxious “scary
movie” stereotypes. It also falls into the
trap of allowing the audience to believe that
the killer could be anyone. A great thriller is
not calculated by the number of possibilities
it creates behind a mystery, but by how well construed
a possibility is. At one point, every character
(even Gramm himself) is a suspect, but there is
no real motivation behind each of them. Without
motive, the audience isn’t challenged. Gratuitous
nudity, silly dialogue, and exaggerated acting
(although not on Pacino’s part) bloat this
film. At the end, I was neither surprised, nor
interested. 88 Minutes misses the mark.
Cate Blanchett in
Todd Haynes’ I’m Not There
Opens November 21, 2007
Reviewed by Frank J. Avella
In a season of
ambitious filmic endeavors, Todd Haynes’
I’m Not There, which is “inspired
by the life and work of Bob Dylan” stands
as one of the most ambitious, and as such, divisive
pics of 2007.
The one and seemingly
ONLY thing most folks agree on is Cate Blanchett’s
performance. Her Dylan is simply astonishing.
But more on her later.
I’m Not
There is mock-docu-pastiche of sorts, a cinema
mosaic of various incarnations that embody the
essence of the many different Dylans, through
the years, as the man reinvented himself—funneled
through the brilliant and inventive mind of Mr.
Haynes. The notion is that one can never truly
capture a person onscreen--their essence. You
can read all the books, articles, listen to all
the music--interview all the loved (and not so
loved) ones and even talk to the subject himself,
and still not really get a good idea who that
person is. And Dylan, the icon, is even more mysterious
than most.
In I’m
Not There, Haynes has impressively created
a host of persons who, together, may give some
representation of the enigmatic artist. It’s
a fascinating premise and he has, single-handedly,
reinvented the (oh, so stale) biopic. Does it
work? Well, now that depends. The film is not
a failure, nor is it a resounding success (to
this critic, anyway). Yet it’s very much
like my perception of Dylan, flawed but extraordinary
(at times).
The six Dylans
include: an 11-year old African-American folk
singer who calls himself Woody Guthrie (the appealing
Marcus Carl Franklin); the progressive singer
on-the-verge known as Jack Rollins (the always
interesting Christian Bale); a difficult Hollywood
actor named Robbie (Heath Ledger); a reclusive
Billy the Kid (Richard Gere); an-Arthur Rimbaudish
poet (an effective Ben Whishaw) and, the Dylan
centerpiece (de resistance!) Jude (wholly embodied
by Blanchett), the curly-mopped superstar, leading
the sweet life (yes, La Dolce Vita)!
All these Dylans are presented in a maddening,
yet poetic, mosaic-like structure.
I greatly admire
the film, but that isn’t the same as loving
it. Actually, I haven’t felt so perplexed
about my own reaction to a film in a very long
time.
The Blanchett sequence
borrows generously from Fellini, specifically
Otto e’ Mezza (8 1/2),
and in there might lay my chief problem with I’m
Not There. I adore Fellini. He’s one
of my favorite auteurs. Fellini (along with Bergman)
was able to concoct his own personal vision hatched
from his lunatic/genius head, put it onscreen
and, somehow, it was miraculously accessible--most
of the time. Haynes’ film is most definitely
personal, almost too personal—somewhat impossible
to penetrate. He has distilled his own Dylan from
all his research and all his love. So it feels
like it’s exclusively Haynes’ Dylan—and
not one we can embrace or even understand. Yet,
perhaps that is the point. Perhaps it’s
okay for this film to be a trip into the mind
of Haynes via Dylan (instead of vice versa). I’m
truly not certain. Perhaps after repeated viewings
I will come to totally embrace the pic…or
loathe it.
What does work,
works supremely well. Heath Ledger is quite powerful
and his scenes with Charlotte Gainsbourg are wonderful
to watch. And there are many sequences that astound
(specifically one that involves Allen Ginsberg
and Jesus Christ—I will say no more). The
Gere scenes are less enthralling and that has
less to do with the actor than with the fact that
those moments never meld with the rest of the
film.
But as soon as
Cate Blanchett blasts onto the screen as the freaky,
androgynous Dylan the movie takes off to tremendously
joyous heights. Blanchett has proven that there
isn’t much she can’t do. From Elizabeth
onward, she has shown her versatility and her
bravery in making choices. No one else in her
peer group (with the possible exception of Kate
Winslet) can come close to her remarkable body
of work these last ten years.
Her Jude isn’t
so much an impersonation—although she is
the closest to a real Dylan that we get (whatever
that means), it’s an exhilarating immersion
into Haynes’ most richly written ‘subject.’
Blanchett’s scenes are what one remembers
most after the credits roll and the lights come
up.
I love the film’s
theme of identity, certainly something that all
artists (all people probably) struggle with. Haynes
puts forth the notion that ultimate freedom is
escaping the pigeonholing and being able to reinvent
yourself as you go through different life cycles.
(Jane Fonda is a great example of an artist who
has metamorphosed more than most and has always
fascinated with her next incarnation.) And why
not? Isn’t that what a realized life should
be? Constantly searching for answers to that eternal
‘why am I here’ question?
I came to this
film as someone who appreciates Dylan--the power
of his music. I wouldn’t call myself a fan.
The film made me crave more. So I went right out
and picked up the four-hour Scorsese documentary
and I bought a few Dylan CDs. I am very happy
I did. If the film does the same for others, then
maybe we’ll all develop our own visions/notions
of Bob Dylan and who he is…who he needs
to be…to us--individually.
Jason Reitman’s
Juno
Opens December 25, 2007
Reviewed by Corey
Shtasel-Gottlieb
There is a movie each year,
it seems, that emerges quietly and suddenly to
touch audiences with its unassuming charm. Such
a film works by repackaging the depressing and
the mundane into a product that allows us to laugh
at ourselves—to find humor where sadness
typically lives. In 2007, that movie is Juno.
Witty, ballsy writing and an endearing cast allow
Juno to function successfully as both biting and
adorable. A story of real substance emerges from
behind the curtain of the prototypical dark comedy,
producing a final product that is raw and hilarious
and true to life. It may not be the year’s
best picture, but Juno will be remembered
as the sleeper film that took 2007 by surprise.
Set on a definitively Minnesotan middle class
landscape, Juno tells the story of Juno
Macguff (Ellen Page), a high school sophomore
who finds herself pregnant after a one-night romp
with best friend Paulie Bleeker (Michael Cera).
Spooked by a less than comforting trip to the
abortion clinic, Juno decides to give her baby
up for adoption. Her awkwardly evolving relationship
with the adoptive parents-to-be (played by Jennifer
Garner and Jason Bateman) is painfully humorous,
as she belly-flops gracelessly into their white-bread
lifestyle. Such is the way in which she approaches
each of pregnancy’s seemingly fragile obstacles,
trampling over maternity outfits and ultrasounds
like a bull in a china shop. At face value, Juno
may be the picture of inelegance, but in truth
she is just the opposite: super witty and free-spirited,
she exudes a depth of confidence that is admirable,
even shocking, for a person in her situation.
She embraces her role as the elephant-in-the-room
with a self-deprecating sincerity that renders
her deeply lovable. The core of the film’s
success resides in screenwriter Diablo Cody’s
development of such a character.
Embedded within the story of Juno’s pregnancy
is her relationship with Paulie Bleeker, the film’s
ultimate boy-next-door. Bleeker is Juno’s
soft spot. A goofy gold headband and tiny track
shorts uniform his innocent dorkiness; his quiet
sensitivity clashes with typical depictions of
teenage fathers. Like Juno, he appears to appreciate
his own awkwardness for what it is, though his
admission at the film’s end that “Actually,
I try really hard” makes clear that he is
a bit less secure. Nevertheless, his lack of cynicism
is disarming, and melds almost seamlessly with
Juno’s no-bullshit approach. The love story
into which the film ultimately evolves is a product
of this dynamic—it is untraditional, perhaps
unrealistic, but mostly just, well, sweet.
The strength of Juno’s storyline
is complemented by first-rate acting on all cylinders.
Ellen Page makes the movie. She is so fully entrenched
in this role, so believable, that I find it difficult
to believe that she is not Juno Macguff in real
life. This is, without question, her coming out
party, a performance that should be awarded with
her first Oscar nomination. Cera is good, too.
Although he doesn’t deviate much from his
soft-spoken Superbad shtick, he is perfect for
the part. It is the supporting acting, though,
that elevates Juno to next-level quality. J.K.
Simmons and Allison Janney are excellent as Juno’s
father and stepmother, and not merely from a comedic
perspective; both portray a depth of emotion that
gives credence to the notion of parents as actual
people. The same is true of Jason Bateman and
Jennifer Garner, whose stereotypical yuppyness
melts to reveal a real, struggling couple at movie’s
end. These are the types of performances that
will provide Juno the same warm reception
that made Little Miss Sunshine a hit
in 2006.
In one of the strongest years for film in recent
memory, Juno stands out among 2007’s
brightest. Smart, funny, and original, it infuses
something dark and taboo with genuine warmth.
It is a must-see.
Bharat Nalluri’s
Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day
Opens Friday, March 7, 2008
Starring: Amy
Adams as Delysia Lafosse; Shirley Henderson as
Edythe Dubarry; Ciarán Hinds as Joe; Frances
McDormand as Miss Pettigrew; Lee Pace as Michael;
Tom Payne as Phil Goldman; Mark Strong as Nick.
Reviewed by Wendy
R. Williams
Miss Pettigrew
Lives for a Day is a frothy confection of
a film; farcical and fun, it is the perfect chick
flick. The film is advertised as a fairy tale
for grown ups and it certaunly fulfills its advertised
promise.
Here is a quote
from the press release: “In 1939 London,
Miss Guinevere Pettigrew (Frances McDormand) is
a middle-aged governess who finds herself once
again unfairly dismissed from her job. Without
so much as severance pay, Miss Pettigrew realizes
that she must – for the first time in two
decades – seize the day. This she does,
by intercepting an employment assignment outside
of her comfort level – as “social
secretary.” Arriving at a penthouse apartment
for the interview, Miss Pettigrew is catapulted
into the glamorous world and dizzying social whirl
of an American actress and singer, Delysia Lafosse
(Amy Adams).”
Delysia has a
complicated love life, three love lifes to be
precise. When Miss Pettigrew arrives at Delysia’s
stunning penthouse apartment, one of the love
lifes is still asleep upstairs, Phil Goldman (Tom
Payne). Phil is the son of a theatrical producer
and has the power (maybe) to cast Delysia in his
father’s new musical. But career benefits
aside, he must get out of bed because Delysia
is late for a lingerie show. And as a further
complication, Delysia's boss at the nightclub
where she sings, Nick (Mark Strong), is about
to arrive and Nick would also like to spend some
time in the presently occupied upstairs bed.
So Delysia is
desperately in need of the services of a sensible
English governess. And Miss Pettigrew, in all
her frumpy glory, jumps right in. She removes
lingerie from the chandelier, stuffs clothing
under the bear skin rug and dispenses sensible
advice. And advice is needed for it seems that
Delysia has yet another love interest, Nick (Lee
Pace), the piano player at the nightclubs where
Delysia works. Delysia truly loves Nick, but of
all three men, Nick can do the least for her career.
Miss Pettigrew quickly dispenses with all three
men and Delysia and Miss Pettirgrew leave for
the lingerie show.
The lingerie show is a frothy delight, a pink
bonbon for the eyes. At the lingerie show, Miss
Pettigrew is introduced to Delysia’s friend,
Edythe (Shirley Henderson), a brittle and sophisticated
shop owner. Miss Pettigrew also meets Edythe cuckolded
fiancée, Joe (Ciarán Hinds), an
honest wholesome sort of man who was drawn into
the smart set when he left the sock business to
become a lingerie designer. Miss Pettigrew is
attracted to Joe because she can see beneath his
worldly exterior to view the decent man Joe really
is.
So the die is
cast, the players are on the stage. Just who will
Delysia choose? Will Edythe be able to draw Joe
back into her web? Will Miss Pettigrew ever get
something to eat and will someone please do something
about her hair?
Miss Pettigrew is set in a world that
is about to drastically change. Indeed, we see
the outlines of the first German bombers flying
over the English sky. And in the world, all is
not exactly as it seems for Miss Pettigrew and
Delysia have one secret in common – what
they do in any one day can truly throw them into
the poor house the next day.
The cast in Miss
Pettigrew all give wonderful performances:
Amy Adams is utterly "Enchanting" as
Delysia; Frances McDormand embodies goodness under
extreme stress; Shirley Henderson delights as
Edythe Dubarry, the evil witch of this fairy tale;
Ciarán Hinds as Joe delivers the same rock-solid
performance that has made him Ciarán Hinds.
And the male love interests are all delightful
in their own ways: Tom Payne plays an adorably
vain Phil; Mark Strong is sexually exciting as
the venal and menacing Nick; and Lee Pace, with
his soulful eyes, makes the audience totally forget
what our mothers told us about not dating musicians.
Vincent Paronnaud and
Marjane Satrapi's
Persepolis
Opens Tuesday, December 25, 2007
Reviewed by Julia
Sirmons
A film about angst
and rebellion under the thumb of an oppressive
Islamist regime may, at first glance, seem like
unlikely holiday movie-going fare. Nevertheless,
tales of the resiliency of the human spirit and
the triumph of rebellion and dignity in the most
of trying of political circumstances are very
much in keeping with the greatest story every
told. With that in mind, there's no better way
to keep the seasonal joie de vivre going than
by checking out Persepolis, the visually
arresting, earthy and affecting animated film
adapted form Iranian author Marjane Satrapi's
intensely personal graphic novels.
The film's narrative
spans the course of both books; beginning with
the young Marjane witnessing the fall of the Shah
and the rise of the Islamist revolution, following
her to school in Vienna then back home to Tehran
and finally off to Paris to begin a new life as
an artist.
As graphically
striking as Satrapi's print illustrations are,
the live animation gives the story a new vitality
and depth. Shaded entirely in blacks, whites,
and greys, the illustrations and images manage
to convey a wide variety of emotions: the warm
and homey feel of Marjane's close-knit family,
the eerie and magical depictions of young Marjane's
fantasy world, the traditional Persian aesthetic
of the segments that explain Iranian history,
the neo-noir punk feel of Marjane's sojourn in
Vienna, and the bleak, ominous look of the scenes
of political protest and rebellion. The visual
complexity of Persepolis is truly dazzling;
it looks unlike any film you've ever seen.
As much as the
narrative of Persepolis is inexorably
entwined with the history of modern Iran, it really
is a much more universal story – that of
a smart, tough, rebellious girl struggling to
come into her own when all the weight of circumstance
and society are fighting against her. One of the
great delights of seeing the story on celluloid
is that the character of Marjane (voiced by Gabrielle
Lopes Benites as a girl and by Chiara Mastroianni
as a teenager and adult) really comes to life.
To see the character develop from a fearless kung-fu-loving
young badass to a moody and an outraged teen and
finally a defiant, self-confident woman is heartrendingly
real. The superb cast of powerful, memorable characters
is rounded off by Marjane's formidable and supportive
parents (voiced Simon Akbarian and Mastroianni's
real-life mother, Catherine Deneuve), and her
doting but gutsy grandma (the incomparable Danielle
Darrieux).
In this day and
age, when oppressive regimes stamp out personal
freedoms across the globe, Persepolis
is an empowering call to arms; a strong reminder
that the human desire for liberty can thrive under
the most difficult circumstances. A more inspiring
Christmas message would be difficult to find.
Martin Scorsese’s
Shine a Light
Opens Friday, April 4, 2008
Reviewed by Frank J. Avella
Are the Rolling
Stones the greatest Rock ‘n Roll band in
the world? It depends on your definition of great
and the criteria you use for deciding such ridiculous,
but fun, things. If sheer force, courage, stamina,
potency, longevity and true musical talent top
your list of evaluation standards, then perhaps
they are. If you agree that they happen to be
the only group to have had such a massive influence
on music and culture decade after decade after
decade after decade…after decade, then they
certainly are.
Martin Scorsese’s
mesmerizing concert film, Shine a Light,
does exactly that: capturing the Stones up close,
intimately and pretty personal. Scorsese does
the job by simply filming them doing what they
do best, what they’ve always done best:
perform. He also, intermittently, sprinkles old
newsreel footage into the movie to great effect.
Scorsese is no
stranger to concert films, having shot the extraordinary
final performance by The Band, The Last Waltz
in 1978, and, just recently, helming the documentary,
No Direction Home: Bob Dylan.
Shine a Light
began as an idea that Mick Jagger had knowing
they were about to play their biggest concert
yet in Rio de Janiero, as part of their Bigger
Bang tour. He and Richards decided they wanted
Scorsese to direct (Mick: “It’s good
to start at the top.” Richards: “I
have studied every one of his films.”) Scorsese
loved the idea, but decided a more intimate venue
would best serve his vision. After a little coaxing,
he convinced Mick that the Beacon Theatre in New
York City was the perfect place.
Scorsese gathered
some of the best cinematographers working today.
Under the supervision of Academy Award winning
genius Robert Richardson (JFK), the group
included a slew of other Oscar winners: John Toll
(Braveheart); Robert Elswit (There
Will Be Blood); Andrew Lesnie (Lord of
the Rings Trilogy) as well as Albert Maysles,
who shot the now infamous Gimme Shelter
in 1969.
The endeavor has
resulted in a hypnotic and captivating film that
stands as a terrific concert as well as a stunning
motion picture. Scorsese captures the group’s
vitality and energy (Jagger is still more dynamic
than most 18 year olds!), yet we see glimpses
of the aging process taking it’s toll (Keith
Richards ravaged face is forever sexy, but also
scary). What we also experience is a band devoted
to their passion. The songs and the performances
rule the day.
The set includes
most of their best work. (I did miss “You
Can’t Always Get What You Want” and
“Out of Time” but you can’t
have everything). Mick’s attitudinal strut
is on display with a vengeance as is his powerful
bluesy vocals on the best of the best, specifically:
“Shattered;” “Far Away Eyes;”
“Tumbling Dice,” “Brown Sugar,”
“Satisfaction” and, the classic rocker,
“Sympathy for the Devil.”
One of the first
songs Jagger and Richards wrote together is the
haunting “As Tears Go By” and they
perform it with a poignancy and intensity that
sent chills down my spine. A dynamic and underrated
cut, ‘She Was Hot’ provided a major
high in an evening filled with highs.
I was a bit disappointed
that political correctness took over on the “Some
Girls” vocal and a certain highly-controversial
lyric went unsung, but such are the censorial
times we’re all living in.
Special guests
include: Jack White; Christina Aguilera and Presidential
rock star Bill Clinton, who introduces the band.
One of the wonders
of Shine a Light is how Scorsese (as
well as the Stones) never tries to tell us that
we are seeing genius at work (and play). The film
does not reek of self-importance. In fact, Scorsese
takes a very self-reflexive tone pre-concert which
results in some moments of genuine hilarity. And
once the concert begins, the director is all but
out of the picture.
Near the beginning
of the film, Scorsese is told by a technician
that Jagger cannot stand in front of a specific
light for more than 18 seconds or he will burn.
Scorsese incredulously asks: “You mean go
up in flames?” The reply is yes, to which
Scorsese seriously states: “We cannot burn
Mick Jagger.” He then has a chuckle about
it. As do we. And, we are soon hyper-grateful
that Jagger does not go up in flames, otherwise
we would not have been transcendently transported
for two hours by a master director and, well,
the greatest Rock ‘n Roll band in the world!
Alex Rivera’s
Sleep Dealer
New
Directors New Films
March 26–April 6
filmlinc.com
Starring:
Leonor Varela; Jacob Vargas; Luis Fernando Peña;
and Giovanna Zacarías.
Reviewed
by Corey Ann Haydu
Alex Rivera’s first
film, Sleep Dealer, is a science fiction
adventure film that is both entertaining and smart,
a rare combination, and a particularly unique
intellectual experience for the sci-fi genre.
The film follows its protagonist, Memo, a young
Mexican man living in a remote village, and his
journey to the big city. In this archetypal storyline,
Memo is a quintessentially flawed hero. He is
obsessed with technology, and dreams of bigger
things than his current life. This becomes his
downfall, however. Memo ends up in a futuristic
factory that outsources Mexican employees and
to the US- through technological advances. These
employees work from a virtual reality type station
in Mexico, to accomplish menial, low wage jobs
in the US, without ever having to cross the border.
It is with this futuristic construction that Rivera
transcends the genre and delves into an exploration
of immigration and technology and their relationships
with society as a whole. The film asks real questions,
and stuns the audience with a future that seems
entirely plausible and completely terrifying.
Not only are low wage jobs outsourced, remote
soldiers also control detonating machines from
afar, blowing up villages from a world away, disconnected
entirely from life and death. In fact, these soldiers
resemble teenaged boys playing video games, instead
of men making real decisions between life and
death.
Sleep Dealer is also a solid love story,
between troubled Memo, and “writer”
Luz. Luz takes advantage of Memo’s compelling
life story, and shares his memories online, profiting
from their relationship. Their relationship is
beautifully written, and wonderfully acted. It
is an honest look at the complexities of love,
and a reminder that the world is not black and
white.
In fact, Sleep Dealer as a whole resides
in a deep truth, even if its context is an imagined,
unreal future. Regardless, Rivera’s film
manages impressive honesty, complexity, and fullness.
His actors are subtle and true, their lives are
rich and regular, and the world they inhabit is
strange… but also somehow strangely familiar.
It is a movie worth seeing whether or not you
are a science fiction fan. Freshman filmmaker
Rivera demands immense respect for accomplishing
what so few can… a film that is watchable
and enjoyable, but also leads you to see the world
in a new way… or at the very least question
where it is we might be going.
Channing Tatum and Ryan
Phillippe in Stop-Loss
Kimberly Peirce’s
Stop-Loss
Opens Friday, March 28, 2008
Starring: Ryan
Phillippe; Abbie Cornish; Channing Tatum; Joseph
Gordon-Levitt; Victor Rasuk; Linda Emond; and
Mamie Gummer.
Reviewed by Frank
J. Avella
“With
all due respect, sir, fuck the president!”
These audacious
yet cathartic words are spoken by battle-scarred
Staff Sgt. Brandon King (Ryan Phillippe) after
he is told by his superior that he’s being
‘stop-lossed’—ordered to return
to Iraq for another tour even though his term
of service is over. This ‘back door draft’
was first used by George Bush, Sr. during the
Gulf War and has been widely used during the Iraq
conflict.
Through extensive
research and interviews with returning soldiers,
director Kimberly Peirce (along with co-writer
Mark Richard) have fashioned a powerful and deeply
affecting film that examines the effect of war
on a trio of soldiers, during combat, and later,
at home.
Peirce has not
made a film since her 1999 stunner debut,
Boys Don’t Cry, which justly won Hilary
Swank her first Best Actress Oscar. Stop-Loss
more than proves she’s a picturemaking force
to be reckoned with. Passionate and ballsy, Peirce
has the filmic talents to back up her polemics.
And while Stop-Loss brings to mind some
of the best Vietnam-themed war films including:
Oliver Stone’s Platoon and Born
on the Fourth of July; Hal Ashby’s
Coming Home; Francis Coppola’s
Apocalypse Now and Michael Cimino’s
The Deer Hunter, it is in the vein of
homage, not hybridization.
The opening sequence
is filled with blood, guts, mayhem…enough
carnage to make anyone squeamish (my guest almost
had to leave, he was grateful he stayed) and sets
the bar pretty high for the events to come. Eventually,
the soldiers return home and attempt to re-assimilate
into their old lives, which is difficult for some
and near-impossible for others.
Phillippe’s
Brandon is the hub that holds his buddy-spokes
together. They include: his best friend Steve
(Channing Tatum), the tortured Tommy (Joseph Gordon-Levitt)
and Steve’s fiancée, Michelle (Abbie
Cornish).
The film is uncompromising
in it’s portrait of these Texans, how their
patriotism led to their enlisting, but how the
atrocities they witnessed and took part in overseas
have forever scarred them.
More often than
not, Peirce opts to investigate the grey areas—not
just with insights about a soldier’s duty
but when it comes to moral and ethical questions
as well. There’s a terrific scene involving
Brandon chasing a group of thieves that have just
broken into his car. We sense his outrage comes
from how he has just returned from defending his
country FOR these boys and here they are stealing
from him. As audience members we are quick to
want a certain type of justice from this scene,
but immediately find ourselves questioning that
vengeful nature in ourselves. Why it’s there.
And how far we are willing to take it.
Too many critics
have charge Stop-Loss with melodramatic
excessiveness. I don’t see it that way.
The subject matter demands that the stakes be
higher than the norm. And while the film sometimes
goes slightly over the edge—especially when
depicting Tommy’s anguish (his shooting
his wedding gift and his predictable fate)-- much
like with the work of Oliver Stone, we can forgive
the excesses. They’re almost required.
And Peirce and
Richard are savvy enough to avoid most of the
Hollywood-by-numbers script trappings. I applaud
the filmmakers for never taking the Phillippe/Cornish
relationship to that oh-so-predictable level.
They also manage to end the film on a strong and
true note. I have read a few negative reviews
from respected right-wing critics that completely
missed the point of the ending. This is not surprising
since supporters of Bush and the war usually see
ONLY what they want to see anyway--or what they're
told they should be seeing.
Ryan Phillippe,
so effective in Clint Eastwood’s Flags
of Our Fathers last year, does his best work
to date as the beleaguered Brandon, at first content
to do his duty, but slowly waking to certain realities.
It’s a bracing and complex performance.
Newcomer Channing
Tatum makes good on the promise he showed in A
Guide to Recognizing Your Saints. Tatum takes
some great acting risks and they pay off resoundingly
while Joseph Gordon-Levitt adds another terrific
performance to an ever-growing resume’ of
impressive turns. Victor Rasuk is heartbreaking
as Rico, a wounded soldier who’s spirits
have not yet diminished.
Atypical for any
type of war-oriented film, women are allowed some
great moments as well. Abbie Cornish (who resembles
a young Nicole Kidman) is perfectly understated
as the confused Michele. Linda Emond embodies
everymom with a quiet power that is breathtaking.
And Mamie Gummer leaves her mark in a smallish
role and proves spookily reminiscent of her mother’s
(Meryl Streep) Deer Hunter performance
thirty years ago.
Production values
are excellent throughout with the great Chris
Mendes doing stunning camerawork. John Powell’s
score is potent and appropriately haunting.
At one point Peirce
uses a song by country superstar and resident
war-monger, Toby Keith to highlight just how misguided
so many of our young men were post-September 11th.
The ditty, “Courtesy of the Red, White and
Blue (The Angry American),” was written
to inspire our boys to want to seek revenge for
that tragedy. The problem was it also asked us
to blindly trust a President with his own agenda.
And while Keith never had to take responsibility
for the blood on his hands, true Americans like
the Dixie Chicks were vilified and demonized for
speaking out against an unjust war and a horrific
President.
If you haven’t
guessed, I do not support the evil that is George
W. Bush. And I do not understand how so many Americans
were blinded into believing he was invading Iraq
because of 9/11 when one thing had NOTHING to
do with the other. Finally, I will never understand
the mindset that says we are not allowed to be
critical of our President—especially when
he blunders big time. I state all this so all
my biases are up front.
Stop-Loss has
the guts to say certain things that desperately
need to be said. It is not only the best film
of 2008 to date, it happens to be the first relevant
film to deal with the Iraq War.
It was recently
reported that, in the five years since we invaded
Iraq, over 4,000 Americans are now dead. And,
as far as Bush is concerned, we are staying put.
Even the promise of a new President may not make
a withdrawal possible for a while to come since
there are many political factors to take into
account. Leaving, at this stage, might be more
detrimental for us. It’s all terribly frightening
and no one seems to care as much any more. Call
it Iraq War-fatigue, but Americans seem disinterested.
Stop-Loss is
an important reminder that our boys are still
dying AND is an accurate account of just one of
the legion of ways the Bush Administration has
turned our country into a borderline fascist regime
where the Commander-in-Chief can ride roughshot
over laws that have existed for over two hundred
years—laws that are supposed to protect
us as a democracy.
I urge everyone
to see this remarkable film; it has something
important to say and does so in a damned entertaining
and inspiring way.
Tia Lessin and
Carl Dean’s
Trouble the Water
New
Directors New Films
March 26–April 6
filmlinc.com
Starring:
Kim Roberts and Scott Roberts
Reviewed by Marguerite Daniels
Documentary film can be
a tricky genre to navigate. Often documentary
directors insert so much of their own images and
ideas into the film that it become’s about
the director and the subject can be lost. This
is far from the case in Tia Lessin and Carl Dean’s
Trouble the Water where the documentary-makers
give free-range to the subjects, and what results
is a film of sheer brilliance.
The film follows
aspiring rap artist Kim Roberts and her husband
Scott Roberts who endure Hurricane Katrina and
the horrific after effects of the storm. A week
before the storm, Kim fortuitously purchased a
camcorder on the street for $20, and begins using
the camera the day before Katrina hits landfall.
Kim quickly proves an expert camerawoman with
deft instincts: she is a natural storyteller,
and she provides narration while she captures
the lives of people who attempt to escape the
storms wrath. Though Kim and her husband cannot
leave their home because they don’t have
transportation, they make provisions and invite
friends and neighbors to their house to wait out
the storm. Lessin and Dean use Kim’s footage
and intertwine it with news reports their own
to give the film vastly different perspectives.
As the storm worsens, more neighbors arrive, and
it becomes clear that the storm will be far worse
than anyone anticipated. Kim continues to film
as the levees near her home in the 9th Ward break,
and flood her house so completely that the inha
