Joe Wright’s
Atonement
Opens Friday, December 7, 2007
Starring: Keira
Knightley (Cecilia Turner) ; James McAvoy (Robbie
Turner); Saoirse Ronan (young Briony Tallis);
Romola Garai (Briony Tallis at 18); Harriet Walter
(Emily Tallis); Brenda Blethlyn (Grace Turner);
and Vanessa Redgrave (present day Briony). Based
on the novel by Ian McEwen
Reviewed
by Wendy R. Williams
British director
Joe Wright has fulfilled the promise he exhibited
with 2005’s Pride and Prejudice
with his helming of the lushly gorgeous Atonement.
Set in 1935 during the start of World War II,
the story is awash in class struggle, jealousy,
repression and sexuality.
Thirteen year old
Briony (Saoirse Ronan) is an aspiring writer and
a child of privilege. Born into the upper class
of England, Briony lives with her parents and
older sister Cecilia (Keira Knightley) in a story
book country house. And in what should have been
one glorious day spent in the beautiful English
countryside, Briony misinterprets a series of
events and ruins the lives of her sister and her
sister’s secret lover, the house keeper’s
son Robbie (James McAvoy).
The English class
caste system was in a state of flux in 1935 and
Robbie’s aspiring to romance Cecilia was
emblematic of the coming changes in class structure.
Robbie had been sent to Cambridge as a scholarship
student at the same time that Cecelia had been
away at Cambridge.
On that fateful day, the hottest day of the year,
Robbie accidentally breaks a vase, a piece of
which falls into a fountain. Cecelia is furious
about the loss of the vase and strips to her underwear
and dives into the fountain to retrieve the missing
piece and emerges sopping wet and for all purposes
naked. The stripping, diving and emerging are
observed by the jealous and naive Briony who misinterprets
both this and a series of other overheated events
that occur that same day.
The next part of
the film is set during World War II. Robbie, whose
prospects for professional success and love have
been ruined by Briony’s lies, is in France
fighting the Germans. The English have been routed
and are waiting at Dunkirk to be rescued in a
scene that echoes Dante’s Inferno.
Both Cecelia and Briony are working as nurses
in London. Briony has come to her senses and realized
what a horrible sin she committed when she was
a naïve, class-conscious, thirteen-year-old,
know-it-all. Briony desperately wants her sister
and Robbie to forgive her, but the lives she ruined
have become Humpty Dumpties and nothing she can
do can put them back together again.
In the last segment
we see the now dying Briony (Vanessa Redgrave),
a successful novelist at the end of her life,
being interviewed for a television show. And we
learn that Briony’s entire life has been
spent wishing for a forgiveness/atonement that
has never come.
And as for the
cast:The multi-talented Keira Knightly (the Pirate
movies and Wright's Pride and Predjudice)
is stunningly beautiful as Cecelia. Her scenes
with James McAvoy explode with eroticism. McAvoy
(The Last King of Scotland) has definitely
proven to be one of the (if not the) most talented
young English actor of his generation. And young
Saoirse Ronan does a brilliant job of portraying
the multi-faceted young Briony as a basically
good young woman who is so confused by her emerging
sexuality that she commits a monstrous act of
evil. And Romola Garai as the eighteen year old
Briony is heart breaking as she strives for forgiveness
by submerging her soul in the quest to help wounded
British soldiers. And what can I say about the
incomparable Vanessa Redgrave that has not already
been said except to say “Ditto.”
Joe Wright did a beautiful job putting together
this multi-layered story of love, war, jealousy
and grief. Atonement is destined to be
a classic; it is definitely a movie I will not
soon forget.
12/13/2007:
According to this article on MSNBC.com,
Atonement received seven nominations
for the Golden Globes, the largest number of nominations
for any film.
Ethan Hawke and Philip
Seymour Hoffman in
Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead
Sidney Lumet's
Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead
Opens Friday, October 26, 2007
Reviewed by Alejandra
Serret
Sidney Lumet is
a little guy. He’s short, slight in frame,
has fury eyebrows, and small hands. A quick comparison
to Scorsese seems too easy and yet, like the better-known,
younger director, Lumet is a genius behind the
camera. At eighty-four years old his career has
burgeoned with films like Dog Day Afternoon,
The Wiz and Serpico, working
with greats at their peak—Pacino, Brando,
Hoffman, as in Philip Seymour (although this one
is up for discussion). Lumet is as they say, a
legend.
At it again, decades
after his most noted work, Lumet brings us Before
the Devil Knows You’re Dead: a film
best described as a Greek tragedy of a dysfunctional
family unable to pull themselves from their destructive
path. The tragic characters in turmoil: the father
who is too hard on his eldest son, the younger
brother who strives for his elder brother’s
attention, the much loved mother/martyr, jealousy,
adultery, and betrayal. Lumet tells their story
in a non-linear way exposing the family’s
unraveling in the opening scene—a robbery
gone horribly wrong. (Actually, the film begins
with a provocative sex scene between Andy (Hoffman)
and his wife Gina, played by Marisa Tomei.)
Philip Seymour
Hoffman plays Andy, a character that is manipulative
and scheming. Ethan Hawke plays the younger, less
intelligent brother. Both Hawke and Lumet argue
that the more obvious casting choice would have
been the reversal—Hawke as the calculating
older brother and Hoffman as the self-loathing,
self-deprecating Hank. This option, however, allowed
them both to play with more challenging, less-expectant
character traits. Hawke found it hardest to play
such a moral-lacking, weak character, but took
the role for its attachment to Lumet—an
opportunity he thanks Hoffman’s success
for.
The tangled plot
unwinds in a non-linear way divulging portions
of itself at a time. From the beginning, viewers
know that partners-in-crime Andy and Hank plan
the nearly perfect crime: the robbery of a local
mom and pop jewelry store. The catch is that it
is their mother and father’s store, one
they are intimate with. Their seemingly flawless
plan goes haywire, resulting in their mother’s
death. Without the matriarch at their center,
the family crumbles. The males are unable to lay
their expectations to rest—Charles, the
patriarch of the family, played by Albert Finney
is hardest on Andy. Andy vies for his father’s
affection and Hank fights for Andy’s. It’s
the never-ending cycle that stays unresolved.
The caliber
of acting speaks volumes of this film, which is
at once surprising and expected. Lumet stays true
to his nature and does not disappoint. His experience
has kept him sharp, allowing for precise and beautiful
story telling in Before the Devil Knows You’re
Dead.
Tom Wilkinson, Ewan McGregor
and Colin Farrell in Cassandra's Dream
Woody Allen's
Cassandra's Dream
Opens Friday, December 28, 2007
Starring: Ewan
McGregor; Colin Farrell; Hayley Atwell; Sally
Hawkins; and Tom Wilkinson.
Reviewed
by Wendy R. Williams
What would you be willing
to do to save your life? Not from death but to
save yourself from dying of boredom or worse,
to save yourself from having to live without the
use of your knees?
Woody Allen's
Cassandra’s Dream tells the story of
two lower-middle-class London brothers - the upwardly
mobile Ian (played by Ewan McGregor) and his gambling-addicted
loser brother Terry (played by a Colin Farrell
you have never seen before). Ian wants more from
life than his present existence, one where he
works in the family restaurant and dates cute
waitresses. And one beautiful day, while driving
through the countryside in a “borrowed”
vintage sports car (Terry is a mechanic), he sees
Angela (played by a gorgeous Hayley Atwell) stranded
on the side of road attempting to fix her disabled
car. It is love at first sight and jump starts
Ian’s desire to become a player in life
by investing in a hot-but-dubious-sounding real
estate deal in California.
Meanwhile Ian’s
brother Terry has a different kind of problem:
Terry is addicted to gambling. When he wins, it
is intoxicating. Terry won so big one time at
the dog track that he was able to buy a sail boat
named Cassandra’s Dream which he named after
the winning dog in the race. But sometimes Terry
does not do so well and recently Terry lost ninety-thousand
pounds to some not-so-nice men. And this is ninety-thousand
pounds that Terry has no prayer of ever being
able to pay back.
But never fear;
there is salvation in sight. These shlubby boys
have a rich uncle who has relocated to California
and who now comes to London for a visit. Uncle
Howard (played by Tom Wilkinson) is everyone’s
dream uncle. He has never had children himself
and dotes on his sister’s boys.
So we are then
treated to a darkly funny family conference. Uncle
Howard and the boys meet and both boys explain
that they each need ninety-thousand pounds –
Ian to invest in his real estate deal and prove
himself worthy of the beautiful Angela and Terry
to live the rest of his life without the use of
crutches. Uncle Howard smiles kindly and says
of course. He does not even seem to be listening
as the boys promise to pay him back. But then
Uncle Howard tells his darling nephews that he
needs a small favor in return. Uncle Howard also
needs to save his life and he will be happy to
save his nephews lives if they will do the same
for him.
And thus the die
is cast. The boys have been asked to perform a
morally reprehensible act and if they do not do
it, they will both lose not their physical lives
but their present existence. But if they do help
out dear Uncle Howard, how will they be able to
live with themselves afterwards?
Cassandra’s
Dream is the latest of Woody Allen’s
London films. The film is gloomy and realistic.
The mood is set by Phillip Glass’s haunting
score and Vilmos Zsigmond’s (who also shot
Melinda and Melinda) cinematography.
But unlike Allen's other London films, Dream
is not darkly elegant like Match Point
or quirkily funny like Scoop; it is more
of a Bud Light version of Allen’s New York
based masterpiece, Crimes and Misdemeanors.
But in Dream,
Allen does not relent in the downward thrust of
his plot like he did in Crimes and Misdemeanors.
Allen allows the characters to find their own
destiny with no whimsical twists of fate or self-justifying
moralizing to catapult them to a different outcome.
All the actors
do fine jobs. Ewan McGregor plays the charming
cad with his usual insouciance. Colin Farrell
is a revelation as the loser brother; there is
none of his usual “I’m a movie star”
posturing. Newcomer Hayley Atwell does a fine
job of playing the just-reachable goddess. And
in a small part, Sally Hawkins (as Terry’s
wife Kate) does a great job of impersonating Woody
Allen’s muse, Scarlett Johansson (Hawkins
could pass for Johansson's sister). But the real
acting kudos go to Tom Wilkinson who is subtly
hysterical in his role as the loving uncle who
comes for a visit with just a bit of baggage for
his nephews to carry.
Mike Nichols'
Charlie Wilson’s War
Opens Friday, December 21, 2007
Reviewed by Frank
J. Avella
Charlie Wilson’s
War is yet another hotly anticipated holiday
release that was immediately pummeled by a gaggle
of quasi-critics (those self-appointed Oscar “experts”
you’ve heard so much bashing about this
season) as not worthy of all the expectation hyped
upon it. Well, firstly, the expectation was hyped
by these gurus of nada themselves, proving once
again that ‘those who can’t’
love to build up and then immediately tear down.
The good news,
my film friends, is that the “chosen”
few were fucking wrong (not the first time) and
full of shit (not surprising) for Charlie
Wilson’s War is not only one of the
most sharply written, deftly directed and masterfully
acted films of the year, it’s a fan-frikkin’-tastically
funny comedy as well, something the season is
sorely lacking.
Aaron Sorkin, who
began his career as a playwright (A Few Good
Men) and then moved very quickly to episodic
TV (The West Wing) and has recently moved back
to Broadway (The Farnsworth Invention)
has penned a smart, savvy, satiric look at one
man’s ablilty to manage the impossible...with
a little help from his friends.
The film follows
the womanizing, boozing liberal Congressman from
Texas known as “Goodtime Charlie”
along an unexpected journey to free the Afghans
from the Soviet stronghold, after the invasion
of 1979. Wilson is the perfect Washington operator.
He knows the right people and knows how to get
things done. When he asks for five million dollars
for something the CIA is planning, he gets it--no
questions asked.
Charlie is, initially,
hoodwinked into this challenge by the wealthy
and powerful Houston socialite Joanne Herring,
played with delight and relish by a stunning Julia
Roberts. This may not be the pretty woman we’re
used to (especially in that fright wig) but she
sinks her teeth in solidly here and delivers.
It’s Joanne
who arranges a key meeting between Charlie and
the Pakistani president. Toss in a sardonic and
bitter CIA op (played perfectly by Philip Seymour
Hoffman) as well as Israelis and Arabs (who were
brought together for the first and ONLY time)
and Charlie has the ammunition he needs (figuratively
and literally) to aide the Afghans in their plight
against the, then, Soviets. Of course, helping
with the defeat must never reflect back to the
U.S.
Much information
is tossed at the audience in the movie. Some of
it will not brain-stick during the first viewing,
but it doesn’t have to. It’s fine
to simply grasp the crux of what is going on and
the unbelievable achievement one man and a few
enemy countries were able to accomplish. The results
proved terrific (the end of the cold war with
the fall of the Soviet wall) and terrible (much
of the training of the Muslims created a breeding
ground for the Islamic fundamentalists that would
go on to hate America and seek revenge...)
There’s been
some controversy about the original ending being
forced-cut by Universal because Wilson and Herring
did not appreciate being connected, even peripherally,to
what would eventually be the 9/11 attacks--so
they allegedly sought legal counsel and twisted
a few studio arms. Regardless, the point is felt,
even though the current ending feels too abrupt.
Otherwise the film moves fluidly and is finely
edited (by Oscar winner John Bloom).
Tom Hanks is doing
some of his best work now. Along with Road
to Perdition, this is one of his sharpest
performances. He’s unafraid to give Charlie
the faults and freckles that make him who he is.
This is not a Jimmy Stewart turn (and it easily
could have been). Hanks humanizes Charlie for
us so we can understand and appreciate the folly
of politics and of personal judgments. Hanks does
what the Harrison Fords of the industry are afraid
to do, he takes chances with his film selections
and with his craft. The results are an ever expanding
repertoire of fascinating characters as well as
choices..
A special mention
to the wonderful Amy Adams (Enchanted),
who is one of the few girls in the film Charlie
does not sleep with as well as the perennially
political Ned Beatty, always on his game.
Director Mike Nichols
is a craftsman who has made some truly great films
(Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?,
The Graduate, Silkwood and the
made for TV masterwork, Angels in America).
Charlie may not make that list but it
stands proud with his most stellar work.
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.
Kevin Lima’s
Enchanted
Opens November 21, 2007
Starring: Amy Adams; Patrick Dempsey; James Marsden;
and Timothy Spall.
Reviewed by Frank
J. Avella
To say Amy
Adams is enchanting in Enchanted is redundant--to
the third power actually. Anyone who saw her hilarious
and heartbreaking turn in Junebug, two
years ago, knows just how extraordinary this actress
is. This is a star-making performance, no question.
One that will rightly garner Adams an Academy
Award nomination. What is so remarkable about
Kevin Lima’s new film is just how much it
lives up to Adams’ talents!
Enchanted
is the first live action/animation blend that
I have ever seen that actually investigates what
it is like for a cartoon to become human…for
a drawn fairy princess (to be) to become a flesh
and blood woman bursting with confusion, lust
and her own newfound idiosyncrasies. (It’s
not rated R so it doesn’t go THAT far—this
is still Disney!) And thanks to Adams we are privy
to her inner world and we watch her move from
her one-dimensional demeanor, excitedly and with
trepidation, to exploring full three-dimensionality!
I do not feel the
need to give away any of the plot. Suffice to
say; you’ve seen it all before…until
you haven’t!
Disney gets lots
of props for not just allowing the creative forces
at work to skew and satire their precious film
characters, heritage, image, etc…but to
do it in such a clever and deliciously whacky
way. This never feels like a paint-by-numbers
Hollywood film.
The movie has the
chutzpah to poke fun at many animated (and musical)
conventions such as: having characters burst into
song for no real reason and the delightful staple
of summoning nearby creatures to help out our
heroine. The latter is brilliantly turned upside
down in the number: “Happy Working Song”
when Adams asks the help of a slew of nearby pigeons,
rats and cockroaches to help clean Patrick Dempsey’s
(yes, McDreamy!) apartment. It is an instant classic
clip as we watch with joy and horror as these
vermin infest the screen, all led with happy glee
by Adams! Even the character’s name, Giselle,
is a fun riff on past Disney heroines.
The three new songs
by Alan Menken and Stephen Schwartz are wonderful,
with “That’s How You Know” having
a particularly Oscary ring to it.
Besides the sensational
Adams, James Marsden should be singled out for
a stellar Prince of a performance. Marsden, once
an Ally McBealer, currently seen in Hairspray,
is one of the most underrated actors working today.
And there seems to be no limits to his talents.
Finally, the film
is a Valentine to the greatest city in the world:
New York—and specifically, Manhattan. Central
Park, Lincoln Center and, in particular, Times
Square, are photographed with such love that we
understand why Giselle is so taken with our fair
city, that she would want to permanently stay
and not return to the magical kingdom she came
from.
Chris Weitz's
The Golden Compass
Opens December 7, 2007
Reviewed by Corey Shtasel-Gottlieb
It doesn’t take a
wizard—or a little girl’s magical
truth-telling device—to discover that The
Golden Compass is the latest addition to
2007’s growing list of blockbuster letdowns.
Dredged in special effects that even the purest
of movie purists will enjoy, Compass
appears to have all the makings of a sure thing.
Really, it should work. Rarely do pre-teen heroism,
dark world villainy and a beastly budget fail
to produce vast success, and the cultish popularity
of Phillip Pullman’s His Dark Materials
lends to the film a Harry Potteresque
fan-base (read: children and nerdy adult Trekkies).
So what happened, then? Why did I spend the better
part of two hours wishing I’d stayed home
and ordered A League of Their Own on Netflix?
I hesitate to plunge feet-first into an outright
bashing of this movie, as it did have its redeeming
features. There is a story here, a story that
maintains flecks of Pullman’s creative genius
despite Hollywood’s greatest efforts at
blockbusterization. We join in the valiant journey
of Lyra Belacqua, a spirited heroine who travels
to the arctic North in hopes of saving her kidnapped
friends. Lyra ventures alongside her beloved “daemon”,
an animal spirit that hops around on screen like
a Pixar Jiminy Cricket (the daemons quietly became
my favorite part of the movie, mostly because
they allowed me to ask myself what my own daemon
would be—I’ve since decided that a
St. Bernard might be the closest match to a hairy,
docile Jewish man). Visually, her journey falls
somewhere in between a ride on The Polar Express
and a game of Mortal Kombat, a beautiful but graphic
spin through the depths of childhood imagination.
There is something undeniably compelling about
this cinematography, especially when we’re
granted courtside seats at a polar bear deathmatch
(no doubt the one scene that twenty-something
men will rely upon when justifying having seen
this movie).
Ultimately, though, the movie lacks what I like
to call ‘give a shittability.’
Too much of the storyline is mired in the film’s
over-dependence on animation which, while impressive,
quickly begins to feel like watching a friend
play video games. It was difficult to follow exactly
what was going on—I found myself waiting
and waiting for a finally-this-makes-sense moment
that never came. Sometimes, such confusion isn’t
a bad thing; in Lord of the Rings, for
example, we care enough about Frodo and Samwise
and Gandolf to overlook the fact that half the
time we don’t know what the hell’s
going on with that ring.
Here, though, the appeal isn’t strong enough.
Nicole Kidman, the film’s supposed big draw,
plays the same weird good witch-bad witch that
she seems to become every time out. Give her Cruella
Deville or Princess Di or the freakin’ Unibomber,
it won’t make a difference: she’ll
still insist on using that eerie, toneless voice
and smiling that Tom-Cruise-just-injected-me-with-his-scientology-tranquilizer
smile. Call me biased, but I don’t think
she’s any better here. Daniel Craig doesn’t
offer much in addition, either, simply because
we don’t see enough of him. In fact, I only
even mention him here because my man crush on
him as Bond refuses to fade. Actually, little
Dakota Blue Richards might be the movie’s
saving grace, as she makes her big-screen debut
as an endearing and believable Lyra. Richards
is more than just cute, she’s sincere, and
she manages to avoid the too-old-for-her-body
affect that makes the other Dakota (Fanning) creepy
to watch. She’ll blow up, I think, assuming
she stays away from too-cutesy roles…and
Lindsay Lohan.
In the end, though, Richards isn’t enough
to save The Golden Compass. There’s
just not enough to care about, not enough to really
invest in. Director Chris Weitz seems to have
spent too much time with the green screen and
not enough on plot development (really makes you
thankful that this kind of technology wasn’t
available when he was shooting Jim’s masturbation
scene in American Pie, no?). I find it
hard to imagine an audience that wouldn’t
be left wanting by this film—the effects
alone may make it worth seeing, but beyond that,
it’s an expensive disappointment.
Casey Affleck, Morgan
Freeman and Michelle Monaghan
Ben Affleck's
Gone Baby Gone
Opens everywhere Friday, October 19, 2007
Reviewed by Alejandra
Serret
When I hear Ben
Affleck’s name associated with a project
I can't help but wonder if the moment has arrived
in which he can assert himself as a Hollywood
powerhouse and detach himself from career blunders
like Gigli, Jersey Girl and
Paycheck. His recent work as George Reeves
in Hollywoodland (while it bombed at
the box office) brought him close, not only displaying
true talent but a desire to challenge himself
artistically. After spending the majority of his
career in front of the camera, he is most impressive
behind, with his directorial debut, Gone Baby
Gone. It’s been 10 years since Ben
Affleck wowed audiences with Good Will Hunting,
which he co-wrote and acted in, winning an Oscar.
He has again proved his worthiness with his adaptation
of Dennis Lehane’s novel Gone Baby Gone,
like his other work (i.e. Mystic River),
it explores Boston’s grimmer side.
South Boston natives/private
investigators/lovers Patrick Kenzie (Casey Affleck)
and Angie Genarro (Michelle Monaghan) work to
uncover the mystery surrounding the disappearance
of four-year-old Amanda McCready. Familiar with
the streets and people of Dorchester, the partners
dive head first, investing themselves in finding
her. While the Boston Police Department may have
experience on their side, Kenzie and Genarro have
connections and understand the street mentality.
The chilling truth they unearth tells the story
of a neglected child and the community she lives
in—at once coming together and coming apart.
Ben Affleck is
able to execute a genuine tone and cadence in
Gone Baby Gone through his dedication
to authenticity—from the actors to the setting
and technique. The film begins with deliberate,
almost poetic shots of Dorchester. Affleck captured
the beauty of the ordinary, which became heightened
through a traumatic event. His younger brother
Casey Affleck, who has recently garnered positive
buzz with his portrayal of Robert Ford in The
Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert
Ford, delivered perfectly, owning his role
as Patrick Kenzie.
Casey Affleck’s
subtlety exposes a genuine talent allowing viewers
to become invested in Amanda’s plight and
the desire to see her home safely. While his performance
raises the film’s potential, it’s
the cast chemistry that makes it a true success.
Michelle Monaghan is believable and not overshadowed
by Morgan Freeman (police chief Jack Doyle) or
Ed Harris (police detective Remy Bressant). While
both veterans deliver as expected, it’s
in the more unexpected roles that the film shines.
Amy Ryan, who plays Helene McCready, and Jill
Quigg, as her best friend Dottie, capture the
jargon, accent, and attitude. Ben Affleck showcases
his attention to detail and his dedication to
accurately portraying a city in the ways that
it is both bad and good. He does Lehane justice
through his adaptation and vision of Gone
Baby Gone.
Francis Lawrence’s
I Am Legend
Opens Friday, December 14, 2007
Starring: Will
Smith; Emma Thompson
Reviewed
by Marguerite Daniels
Vampire-Zombies may be scary, but they aren’t
always the most convincing of film conventions
and neither is the disease that cripples the most
current installment of Richard Matheson's sci-fi
classic I Am Legend. This blockbuster
and eagerly-anticipated Will Smith vehicle is
penned and produced by Akiva Goldsman and directed
by the famed music video director Francis Lawrence.
The disease in question is caused by a much-lauded
cancer cure created by the smug Dr. Alice Krippin,
played by Emma Thompson. The virus mutates which
leads to a few slight and unfortunate side effects:
it kills people or turns them into flesh-eating
zombies. (How could that little tidbit been missed
during the clinical trials?)
Fortunately
both the infected zombies and the disease that
causes the afore mentioned beasties are battled
by the ever-photogenic Will Smith who plays Lt.
Col. Robert Neville, an intrepid military medical
researcher, former Time Magazine “Man of
the Year,” and perhaps the last man on earth.
Will Smith’s Lt. Col. Neville is lonely
save his loyal companion, the patient and fortuitously-adopted
German Sheppard, Sam, and as the last healthy
man in Manhattan he spends his days frolicking
in a video store since Netflix is obviously no
longer an option, looking for a “cure”
for the disease that has decimated the human race,
and fighting off the occasional CGI lion pride
for gazelle that roam the island freely. At night,
he barricades himself against the flesh-eaters
in his extremely posh Washington Square home.
He also searches in vain for other survivors,
never losing hope that he isn’t the only
human left alive.
In their new state, little has changed for the
infected, who are former well-healed Manhattanites,
living en masse in dark, shabby dwellings not
so dissimilar to the cramped apartments they once
shared with several other roommates. The zombies
are creatures of the night and flee from bright
lights the same way make-up laden women do after
a long night of binge-drinking and dancing. The
cannibals are also nattily attired, wearing the
quintessential white wife-beater tank top, and
the always chic micro-short. But as is the way
with zombies, they don’t play well with
others, and they tend to hunt and kill all living
creatures be them man, dog or beast. Perhaps that
is the greatest change in the New Yorkers, as
zombies they aren’t terribly discerning
about their food.
Will Smith, himself, is very good in this film
despite the muddled screenplay he works with.
He convincingly plays both endearing and batty,
and we are treated to a host of Will Smith zombie-slayings,
as well as an extended view of his taut and glistening
pectorals and abs during a gratuitous work-out
scene. Manhattan looks great, too, considering
that an apocalypse has occurred. The eerily-empty
city is no-worse-for-wear save a few weeds and
is lovely in its somewhat wild state. Sadly the
fault of I am Legend lies in its gapping-hole
filed plot. The film opens well enough, but as
it creeps on the audience must suspend belief
because very few things are explained: Just how
does the electricity still work in Manhattan if
there is no one to monitor the power stations?
How does a re-engineered measles virus/cure for
cancer morph into a rabies-like virus? If the
zombies are inhuman, why are they still wearing
clothes and where do they shop? And just how does
a military virologist and his family afford a
brownstone in Washington Square Park?
With so many questions left unanswered the film
loses focus, shying away from its darker elements
and ending with a pat, pseudo-religious message
regarding God’s will. Which is disappointing.
Though the film is beautifully shot by cinematographer
Andrew Lesnie, perhaps it would have benefited
from a director a bit more experienced than Lawrence,
whose first film was 2005’s critically panned
Constantine. After all, a film cannot stand alone
on Will Smith’s broad and strapping shoulders.
Bryan Gunner
Cole’s
Day Zero
Opens Friday, January 18th, 2008
Starring: Elijah
Wood (Aaron Feller); Jon Bernthal (James Dixon);
Chris Klein (George Rifkin); Ginnifer Goodwin
(Molly Rifkin); Elisabeth Moss (Patricia); Ally
Sheedy (Dr. Reynolds).
Reviewed by John
Janusz
Day
Zero is a drama set in a near-futuristic
America at a time when the national draft has
been reinstated. Three best friends from high
school are now in their early thirties as they
each simultaneously receive their thirty day draft
notice. The film focuses not on the war itself,
but the lives of the three protagonists and their
reactions to being drafted from the moment they
receive their notice up until their deployment.
The film features: Elijah Wood as Aaron Feller,
a neurotic writer who makes weekly visits to his
shrink (Ally Sheedy); Chris Klein as George Rifkin,
a yuppie lawyer; and Jon Bernthal as James Dixon,
a fearless NYC cabdriver. All three come from
different backgrounds, live different lifestyles
and view enlisting in the military in different
ways. George comes from a wealthy family, is happily
married (to Ginnifer Goodwin) and has a successful
career. He desperately searches for any way he
can escape his military obligation and continue
on his current life course. Dixon, on the other
hand, does not come from a wealthy family, is
not in a serious relationship and does not have
a successful career. However, he is intent on
going into battle in order to defend the freedom
of choice that he currently enjoys. The tension
grows between the two as they rationalize their
respective opinions on the matter. Aaron takes
a completely different course and (in an attempt
to prepare himself for the life of a soldier)
makes a Top 10 Ten List of things to do before
he reports for duty that includes actions that
range from skydiving to sleeping with a prostitute.
Overall, the film is intriguing due to the possible
relevancy of a semi-thought-provoking plot. Aaron,
George and Dixon have three distinctly varied
reactions to their draft notices, and a viewer
is likely to agree or disagree with each of them
as well as ask oneself what one might do given
the same predicament. The film then develops a
sympathetic background story for each of its characters
before revealing what resolution each comes to
on Day Zero.
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.
Robert Redford's
Lions for Lambs
Opens Friday, November 9, 2007
Reviewed by Allison
Ford
In the war against
terror, the biggest threat to our nation is neither
the enemy, nor our government leaders. The biggest
threat is our own complacency. Robert Redford’s
brilliant and electrifying new film, Lions
for Lambs, fairly explores themes such as
personal responsibility, the duties of a free
press, and idealism in education. It is not an
indictment of obstinate Republicans, and it is
not a sentimental plea for troop withdrawal. It
is a fair and ruthless debate of our position
in the war and how we got there, and a call to
arms for the millions of Americans who are outraged,
yet apathetic.
The parallel action
of Lions for Lambs takes place over the
course of one hour, as events unfold in Washington
DC, California, and Afghanistan. Tom Cruise plays
an ambitious Republican senator, dangling the
exclusive scoop on his new military strategy in
front of a TV journalist, played by Meryl Streep.
Redford plays a college professor, charged with
reigniting the idealism and passion of his most
promising student. Michael Pena and Derek Luke
play courageous young soldiers in Afghanistan,
embodying the human face of these two debates.
The film’s
central theme is the decision to do what is right,
rather than what is easy. Political ideologies
and motivations for the war are discussed and
debated brilliantly between Cruise and Streep.
She listens to the buzzwords and evasive platitudes
offered by Cruise, a hawkish Presidential hopeful
staking his political career on a suspicious new
military tactic. Cruise is as slick and slippery
as any DC spin doctor, rationalizing the human
cost of military action, and wearing blinders
to the possibility of error. He embodies all those
who choose righteousness over peace. They debate
not only the government’s missteps in miring
the country in war, but also the complicity of
the media, which has wholeheartedly perpetuated
the government’s idea of the facts, and
forced this distorted version of truth upon the
American people. At the end of the day, who is
truly responsible - the government for creating
the story, the media for selling it, or Americans
for buying?
Robert Redford,
as a political science professor at an unnamed
California university, debates human potential,
passion, and idealism with his disillusioned student,
played by Andrew Garfield. Redford bemoans the
indifference in the youth of today, who have become
jaded and disappointed with the politics of hypocrisy,
and Redford seeks to inspire Garfield to have
the courage to try to make a difference. As they
say, if you don’t stand for something, you’ll
fall for anything.
Two-thirds of the
film’s action takes place in offices –
despite the impassioned performances, they are
merely debating; having conversations. The film’s
interesting juxtaposition is the inaction of conversations
versus the immediacy of the story of the soldiers
fighting to survive. They play out a poorly-devised
military tactic, which was dreamed up by a politician
who has never seen combat. The American soldiers
featured are also former promising students of
Redford’s. They are the heroes of the movie;
two gifted inner-city kids who lay their lives
on the line for a nation full of citizens who
feel that “supporting the troops”
means a yellow ribbon sticker on their SUVs. The
film bluntly reminds us that even as the politicians
and pundits bicker and argue, there is a real
human cost to our inaction and poor decisions.
The characters
in the film are challenged to have courage –
to take a stand, to say No, to fight for what
it is that they believe. Meryl Streep finds the
courage to doubt and to question, and to reject
what the policymakers in DC want her to believe
and report. In his office, Tom Cruise asks, “How
many times are you people going to ask the same
questions?” Streep replies, “Until
we get the answers.” She represents a lone
voice of conscience in the news media; one dissenter,
unwilling to continue propagating the lies and
half-truths. The soldiers volunteer for battle,
to not sit and wait for others to solve the problems.
At the end of the film, Redford’s student
faces a choice, and stands on the precipice of
deciding between continuing in his blasé,
peaceful existence, and taking action to be a
force of change.
Redford’s
character laments at no other time in our history
“have such lions been led by such lambs.”
This film portrays the lack of real, courageous
leadership from those in power. It implies that
servicemen and idealists are the lions, courageous
and righteous, while the insulated, protected
government leaders are the lambs. However, the
deeper symbolism of the lamb is even more powerful.
The real metaphorical lambs of the story are the
common soldiers. They are led into battle by those
who should be protecting and shepherding them,
and the result is the slaughter and sacrifice
of our best and brightest. The soldiers in this
film are promising students, called into action
by their patriotism and then pushed into danger
by the smug self-righteousness of politicians
like Cruise, who are safely shielded from the
consequences of error.
Lions for
Lambs is a smart, stylish, and fearless film,
highlighted by superb performances and Redford’s
razor-sharp direction. His maverick take on American
politics is not an indictment of any one viewpoint.
The only condemnation is of cowardice. Most of
the scenes in the film are debates, and they are
ruthlessly engaging, because we have the opportunity
to watch our most masterful screen actors at work.
Cruise and Streep engage in a high-stakes game
of evasion that leaves the audience breathless,
even as the characters themselves barely raise
an eyebrow. Lions for Lambs is not merely
a war drama – the engagement of the audience
doesn’t happen through action and gunfire.
Ultimately,
our country’s fate depends on the actions
of all of us. We will not succeed or fail based
on a handful of lawmakers or journalists, and
it is impossible to lay all the blame for past
mistakes at the feet of one man or political party.
The film portrays the human element of conflict,
and reminds us of the tragic consequences of inaction
and hubris. Lions for Lambs is a stark
reminder that changing the course of history is
the right and responsibility of every single American,
and it challenges us to have the courage to do
so.
Robert Redford's
Lions for Lambs
Opens Friday, November 9, 2007
Reviewed
by Frank J. Avella
Robert Redford’s
Lions for Lambs may be earnest and idealistic
and slightly simplistic in it’s presentation,
but it’s actually a film about ideas made
by a skilled filmmaker who appears to be very
concerned about the state of our country. The
lambasting the film is getting from the very media
outlets it calls to task is not surprising, but
it is disheartening.
Don’t be
fooled by the misguided critiques of oh-so-evolved
journalists who feel superior to the dialogue
Redford is trying to encourage. The reason the
film works so well, and it does, is that it refuses
to speak from a position of superiority. It will
not condescend. Redford asks some terribly important
questions. The pic also boasts a smart script,
deft direction and impressive performances.
The docu-drama
plot involves three interwoven sequences. On a
west coast university campus, Dr. Malley (Redford)
debates a promising but apathetic student (an
excellent Andrew Garfield) about his potential
as a citizen of the world and why he should apply
himself. In Washington, D.C., an ambitious Senator
(Tom Cruise) is about to reveal a major war story
to a seasoned and savvy TV journalist (Meryl Streep).
The third segment involves two of Malley’s
former students (Derek Luke & Michael Pena),
now on the battlefield in Afghanistan.
The film is filled
with talk, much talk. And how refreshing is that!
Yet the film-speak is never dull…and when
Streep and Cruise spar the results are riveting.
Streep delivers yet another perfect performance
and Cruise has his best role since Magnolia,
eight years ago.
Much of the power
of Lions for Lambs comes from the films
condemnation of the media’s handling of
the Iraq War at its outset. From the get go, most
outlets just bought what was being fed to them
from the White House hook, line and stinker (spelling
error intended). They rarely questioned why. They
simply reported the news according to the (then
very popular) Bush Administration, worrying more
about ratings and circulation than about doing
their jobs as journalists. So many of these print
and tele-media reps are now bashing the film…and
the critics are doing their best to kill it.
Don’t let
them.
Lions for Lambs
is an important film that deserves to find an
audience. For those of you who are tired of the
cold, strictly-cerebral techno-dazzle of certain
films that are being ridiculously lauded by the
majority of critics, Lions is the perfect
antidote. The film is a plea for action and if
it galvanizes a handful of audience members into
doing something as simple as actually voting in
the next election, well, then, it served a greater
purpose than most movies ever do.
Bill Guttentag and Dan
Sturman's
Nanking
Opens Friday, December 14, 2007
Reviewed by Alejandra
Serret
Nanking,
a thoughtful documentary directed by Bill Guttentag
and Dan Sturman and produced by Ted Leonsis examines
the violent six week period in 1937 when Japanese
troops invaded Shanghai and then capital Nanking,
killing an estimated 200,000 and raping a reported
20,000. Seventy years later, archival footage,
chilling interviews and first-hand, written accounts
revive the horror of that time. While foreigners
evacuated the country, twenty-two European and
American Expatriates remained, creating the Safety
Zone. Guttentag and Sturman focus the film here—on
the two square mile area that helped protect some
200,000 Chinese refugees.
Nanking tells the
horrifying and all too common story of the atrocities
inflicted in times of war. Like other documentaries
some of the hardest moments come with the testimonials—85
and 90 year old men and women reliving brutal
rapes and beatings and the vivid murders of their
parents, siblings and friends. Their palpable
anguish that is still so visibly intact, courses
through each story. While the survivors’
accounts give the documentary substance, interviews
with several Japanese soldiers give it shape.
How does someone justify unnecessary cruelty and
violence? A baby stabbed through by a bayonet
and his mother’s attempt to breast feed
as she bleeds to death. Apparently one doesn’t
have to justify brutality in times of war.
Guttentag and Sturman
attempt to sear these glimpses and fragments of
a life into the viewer’s memory. A very
unique tool they use in order to achieve this
is to cast actors to play the roles of the Safety
Zone Committee Members: Bob Wilson a doctor (played
by Woody Harrelson), Minnie Vaughn a professor
(played by Mariel Hemingway), John Rabe a German
Businessman and member of the Nazi Party (played
by Jurgen Prochnow), George Fitch a priest (played
by John Getz), and Lewis Smythe a Christian missionary
(played by Stephen Dorff). By using actors to
read the Committee Members’ first hand accounts,
which they acquired through letters written to
family and friends, Guttentag and Sturman were
able to give words, a face and personality. They
gave the letters texture. The archival footage
spread throughout, works as the glue that holds
all the varying parts together. Hard evidence
of the carnage is impossible to forget and harder
yet to argue against or deny (although many have
tried).
Nanking
succeeds in giving a poignant view of a period
of time seventy years ago when average people
banded together to save thousands. Without the
help of weapons these professors, missionaries,
priests and businessmen protected the innocent
and made it possible for the truth to be heard.
Guttentag and Sturman are thorough, allowing “The
Rape of Nanking” to unfold within the details.
It is often hard to watch and harder still to
forget, yet Nanking is a must see.
Juan
Antonio Bayona's
The Orphanage
Opens in select theaters: December 28, 2007
Reviewed by: Alejandra
Serret
Juan Antonio Bayona,
a young and talented Spanish director has received
much critical acclaim for his latest work, The
Orphanage. A film, so creepy and well told,
that genius film maker Guillermo del Toro, most
noted for last year’s Pan’s Labyrinth,
believed in the script, signing on as Producer.
The incredible merit this film has received speaks
to each aspect of the film: the acting, directing,
pace, and tasteful elements of gore.
While I would agree
that The Orphanage aims high and attempts
to deviate from the same tired-over the top thriller,
it falls short. This film’s praise is more
a sign of the lack of top notch films made in
this genre, than its actual excellence. Yes it’s
a good film. Yes it’s entertaining. But
no, it is not one that left me speechless or stunned
or in tears, as some of the other reviews have
stated. It is a thoughtful film and for this reason
alone it is already set apart and on a different
level than most scary films made today.
The Orphanage
begins at a sprawling, country-side estate. Orphans,
dressed in uniform, play tag. Fast forward thirty
years and the main character, Laura, played by
Belen Rueda, returns to the orphanage of her childhood
with her husband Carlos (Fernando Cayo) and son
Simon (Roger Princep). Laura hopes to renovate
the old house and turn it into a home for disabled
children. Yet from the beginning, strange things
happen: the house groans and creaks in the night,
her son makes imaginary friends to plays with,
and a late-night visit from a so-called social
worker. All, come to a head on the day of her
school’s opening. Simon’s anger at
his mother’s diverted attention culminates
in a fight—and later, his disappearance.
The next several months Laura and Carlos remain
in the large house, awaiting their son’s
return. Before Laura can learn the truth of her
son’s whereabouts she must first confront
her tragic past.
The ending comes
together flawlessly, if a bit quickly. It does
so in a way that shows the love between a parent
and child. The film takes its time with Simon’s
disappearance and his parent’s anguish yet
the conclusion, while wonderful, is wrapped up
too fast. The Orphanage is definitely
worth watching as it attempts to do what so many
other thrillers have forgotten.
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.
Sylvester Stallone's
Rambo
Opens Friday January 25, 2008
Rambo Returns With a Republican
Starring: Sylvester
Stallone; Julie Benz (Dexter); Paul Schulze
(The Sopranos); Matthew Marsden (Resident
Evil: Extinction, Black Hawk Down);
Graham McTavish (HBO's Rome); Rey Gallegos
(American Wedding); Tim Kang (Third
Watch); Jake LaBotz (Ghost World);
Maung Maung Khin and Ken Howard.
Reviewed by Francesca
C. Simon
The presidential
campaign is a battleground with a cast of Democratic
and Republican hopefuls tossing insult grenades,
spitting out accusations at machine gun speed
and looking for ways to launch surprise attacks
that will catch their enemies off guard. Legislative
voting record body parts flying through the airwaves,
mouth to mouth combat on the campaign trail and
midnight hour strategizing under the cover of
media darkness makes a bloody setting for the
final scenes of the 2008 Presidential Election
in November. It sort of sounds like a Rambo
movie, right?!
We who watch
the action always wait for the hero to arrive
in the final hour to ensure victory. Republican
John McCain’s hero may have just arrived
armed with a movie to add additional ammunition
to McCain’s war hero arsenal! Sylvester
Stallone – the embodiment of the war veteran
Rambo – has endorsed McCain. In New York
to promote his new movie Rambo, which
will blast into theatres today, Stallone told
Fox News’ Brian Kilmeade that typecasting
McCain as President would be the right maneuver.
“I like McCain a lot. A lot,” Stallone
tells Kilmeade on Fox News’ morning show
“Fox and Friends" which aired today,
Friday, January 25, 2008. “And you know,
things may change along the way, but there’s
something about matching the character with the
script. And right now, the script that’s
being written and reality is pretty brutal and
pretty hard-edged like a rough action film, and
you need somebody who’s been in that to
deal with it.”
That sums
up Stallone in the new Rambo movie which he helped
write and directed single handedly. This film
comes almost twenty years after the last film
in the series and this time the setting is northern
Thailand. John Rambo is running a longboat on
the Salween River near the Thai-Burma (Myanmar)
border where the Burmese-Karen conflict, continues
to rage after six decades. The film setting is
based on fact. The Burmese-Karen conflict is the
world's longest-running civil war and is currently
raging in real life into its 60th year. It is
a brutal saga of genocide.
"I thought
the Burmese setting would be ideal because it's
a story that's not just about Rambo. It's actually
happening. It's true," says Stallone. "From
the time I heard about it and began researching
it, I thought, 'If I could just combine the two
– raising “awareness of the Karen-Burmese
civil war and giving the audience a good adventure
story – that would be perfect.” It
seems he has succeeded.
Rambo is a bloody reminder of the reality
of war that shoots through the heart and mind
the painful images of young American men and women
in military uniforms falling on foreign soil wounded,
bleeding and breathing their dying breath with
the hope that their sacrifice will not be in vain.
This movie punches you in the gut with the horrific
bloody sights and high caliber blasting sounds
of real war. This is ninety minutes of war –
not a ten second news clip.
We first
see Rambo (who is living a solitary, simple life
in the mountains and jungles of Thailand) face
to fang with a gigantic poisonous snake, which
he captures and sells. No noble career here. Two
human rights missionaries Sarah (Julie Benz) and
Michael (Paul Schulze), plead with him to carry
them up the Salween River, so they can deliver
medical supplies and food to the Karen tribe,
who are victims of genocide at the hands of the
Burmese military junta.
Rambo first refuses but finally responds to Sarah,
who is the only female in the missionary group.
She speaks softly and imploring him to help them.
We’re not quite sure what makes Rambo change
his mind, but he lets everyone know that he’s
only making the trip for Sarah. Rambo makes the
run up the river, drops them off and returns to
his solitude. But less than two weeks later, pastor
Arthur Marsh (Ken
Howard) finds Rambo and tells him the missionaries
have been captured by the Burmese army. He knows
that Sarah will suffer abuse in the hands of the
brutal military and so he agrees to take a group
of mercenaries up river to rescue the missionaries.
The adventurous effort begins and the action moves
into full gear.
“I
think Sarah stirs something in Rambo, his innate
sense of good versus evil,” explains Stallone.
“He sees this beautiful young woman, and
her doctor boyfriend, who are willing to risk
their safe and comfortable lives to help people
they don't even know who live on the other side
of the world. That awakens something in him. By
saving Sarah, and trying to save the missionaries,
he's also saving part of himself.”
Don't look for deep character development in this
movie. There's no deep passion between the missionaries
Sarah and Paul although they're engaged. The mercenaries
fuss, cuss and spit – but none of them really
move you. There's no insight into the vicious
Burmese Major Tint, epitome of evil, effectively
played by Muang Muang Khin. This man was, in real
life, a resistance fighter for the Karen rebels.
There is no back story of village families or
idealistic soldiers. But the feel of the film
is fiercely authentic. Stallone urged the casting
of native Karen/Burmese who were from the region
and knew about the factual Karen/Burmese conflict.
So real Karen refugees, amputees, land mine victims
and former Burmese soldiers were hired and this
indeed adds a depth of horror and desperation
to their performances. The familiar frames of
rice paddies, dense jungle and the splattering
of blood and guts will bring back many bad memories
of Vietnam for many viewers. The acting is, well,
action-oriented. But Julie Benz should get a special
award from somebody for all the mud, blood, running,
rain, and noise she had to endure.
Stallone
says he never intended to write and direct Rambo
but says he didn’t want to face any
regrets. “When someone else does it, you
have regrets and it doesn’t have your personality.”
This movie is pure Stallone from start to finish.
This is not the oiled-up, slick and righteously
vicious Rambo. He walks with the weight of weariness
on his broad shoulders. This is a man weathered
by war, steeped in self-reflection and wondering
whether he can face the world again. His performance
as Rambo mirrors the reality of the human experience
of maturity; how we all slow down, weigh our options,
and sometimes, somehow manage to come out of the
past to live in the future. The lines and scars
on the face of sixty-60-year-old Stallone relay
the message that war is always hell and it never
changes – except for the equipment and the
location. And yet we must always survive despite
our suffering and find our way back into an ever
evolving world to bear witness to the value of
life.
Sylvester Stallone directs and stars as Rambo,
filmed on location in and around Chiang Mai, Thailand.
RAMBO is based on the characters created by David
Morrell. Written by Art Monterastelli and Sylvester
Stallone. Rambo is produced by Avi Lerner,
Kevin King -Templeton and John Thompson. Executive
Producers Jon Feltheimer, Peter Block, Harvey
Weinstein , Bob Weinstein. Executive Producers
Danny Dimbort, Boaz Davidson, Trevor Short. Executive
Producers Andreas Thiesmeyer, Florian Lechner
Randall Emmett, George Furla.
Brian De Palma’s
Redacted
Opens November 16, 2007
Reviewed
by Alejandra Serret
With movies like
Carrie, Scarface, The Untouchables,
Carlito’s Way, and Mission
Impossible on his resume, Brian De Palma
has successfully explored varying film genres.
In 1989, he directed the controversial film Casualties
of War, starring Michael J. Fox and Sean
Penn, based on the Vietnam War and how it affected
both civilians and soldiers.
Decades later he’s at it again with his
most recent work Redacted: same argument,
different war. With other politically charged
films currently circulating the cinemas (i.e.
Lions for Lambs and Rendition) Redacted
is most electrifying and twice as effective, not
only in message, but in delivery and vision. While
De Palma explores the devastating consequences
of the Iraq War, he does so through the examination
of news coverage. How is the news filtered? How
does it affect our perception of issues and events?
How is it shaped in order to create a desired
reaction?
To redact footage,
is to edit it for publishing. “Redacted
is often used to describe documents or images
from which sensitive information has been expunged,”
says De Palma. “The true story of our Iraq
War has been redacted from the Main Stream Corporate
Media. If we are going to cause such disorder
then we must face the horrendous images that are
the consequences of these actions.” In order
to convey redaction, De Palma centers the film
on a 14-year-old Iraqi girl’s brutal rape
and death and of her family’s slaughter
at the hands of US soldiers. He tells the same
incident through three different lenses: a US
soldier who videotapes everything in hopes of
going to film school, and the American and Iraqi
media.
The same event,
once redacted, becomes three different incidents,
seemingly unrelated. He jumps from one point of
view to another with a mastered fluidity that
avoids interruption. Instead, the constant movement
depicts deep contrasts, adding to the central
theme. De Palma allows the riveting documentary
style footage to speak for itself, holding back
when necessary. He shows the ripple effect this
incident has on so many people—the victim
and her family, the soldiers and their families.
De Palma closes
the film with photographs of the Iraq War: images
of wounded children being held by crying parents,
dead civilians lying in the streets amongst rubble.
He ends with silence and a montage of horrifying
shots. His redaction is a point of view not yet
given by the American mainstream media and is
one that is impossible to expel.
Alex Gibney’s
Taxi to the Dark Side
Opens Friday, January 18, 2008
Reviewed at the
2007 Tribeca Film Festival by Julia Sirmons
“Americans
want to believe that we’re more moral than
the rest of the world,” says a military
interrogator interviewed in Taxi to the Dark
Side, a gripping new documentary about the
US military’s torture policy. The comment
provokes the film’s director, Alex Gibney,
to ask the man if he shares that belief. He pauses
for a moment. “I think that’s bullshit,”
he replies.
It’s a sentiment
that will doubtless be shared by everyone who
sees Taxi, a powerful and well executed film that
boils over with an infectious outrage, and that
establishes Gibney (who also directed 2005’s
Enron: The Smartest Guys in the Room)
as a powerful and confident voice in contemporary
documentary filmmaking.
While it shares
many of the attributes that made Enron so powerful,
Taxi is more of a mirror image than a
carbon copy of Gibney’s previous film. Enron
started with a story of corruption in the highest
echelons of power (the malfeasance of company
bigwigs Kenneth Lay and Jeffrey Skilling) and
argued that it was indicative of a much larger
culture of corporate greed and recklessness that
pervaded an entire institution. Conversely, Taxi
starts with a single incident perpetrated by interrogators
at Bagram prison in Afghanistan (many of whom
were later transferred to Abu Ghraib) and makes
a persuasive case that this and other examples
of detainee torture and homicide were not, as
high-ranking military personnel maintained, the
work of “a few bad apples,” but rather
the result of willful obfuscation and vagueness
from the top of the military chain of command,
perpetrated with the intention of tacitly condoning
violations of the Geneva Conventions.
The result, Gibney
maintains, was that military personnel –
particularly interrogators – never knew
what protocol to follow when dealing with detainees.
(He repeatedly stresses the fact that, despite
numerous requests, staff at Bagram and Abu Ghraib
never received written directives on what they
could and could not do in interrogations.) This
uncertainty, coupled with constant reminders of
the threat of terrorism and an immense pressure
for “results” (which generally meant
extracting confessions, whatever the cost) led
to abuse of power on a wide scale. In the end,
it was the soldiers who were punished, while none
of the superior officers (or government officials)
who deliberately failed to guide or correct them
have been charged, tried or disciplined.
Gibney starts off
with the story of Dilawar, an Afghan taxi driver
from a remote village arrested (on no evidence
and the word of corrupt Northern Alliance troops)
and detained in Bagram prison, where he died as
the result of injuries sustained from brutal beatings.
After the autopsy, the military coroner ruled
his death a homicide. New York Times
reporters Carlotta Gall and Tim Golden pursued
the story, alerting the public to the issue of
detainee torture.
From here, Gibney
travels to Abu Ghraib and Guantanamo Bay, effectively
arguing that the chilling accounts and photos
of prisoner torture at Abu Ghraib were part of
a more widespread use of psychological manipulation
– including humiliation, sensory and sleep
deprivation, and intimidation – in prisoner
interrogations by military personnel. He convincingly
argues that responsibility for this policy goes
back to the top of the power structure, particularly
to Vice President Dick Cheney, who stated from
the days immediately following September 11th
that, in order to win the war on terror, America
would have to travel to “the dark side.”
Just how dark that
dark side became is revealed through photographs
and videos taken within the various prisons and
via interviews with a wide cast of characters,
who each help to shed light on the many facets
of corruption and incompetence that make up the
story. Military experts and personnel of all ranks
are interviewed, as well as detainees’ attorneys.
John Yoo, co-author of the infamous “torture
memo,” makes an appearance. So does Alberto
Mora, the former Navy General Counsel who, upon
receiving news of widespread detainee abuse, threatened
to go public with the story if the Pentagon did
not change its interrogation policies. Moazzam
Begg, a British national detained for almost two
years at Bagram and then Guantanamo, was an eyewitness
to the abuse of Dilawar. He also delivers first-hand
accounts of what detention for an alleged “enemy
combatant” is like with a surprising amount
of humor and grace, most notably when he describes
the irony of being asked to testify against the
soldiers who detained him.
The interviews
with four of the officers charged in connection
with Dilawar’s death provide some of the
film’ most complex – but ultimately
effective – moments. Gibney works hard to
depict them as fall guys for much bigger fish
while still making them accountable for the fatal
blows inflicted on Dilawar’s body. Their
stories of insufficient training and lack of support
from superior officers are horrifying, but at
the same time many of their own comments –
sweeping and derogatory generalizations about
Islam and Middle Eastern culture, a smirk or laugh
that leaks out in the middle of a description
of torture and humiliation – can be chilling
and deeply disturbing. In the end, they are the
best proof of one interviewee’s assertion
that the military attracts people who are “just
this side of the Marquis de Sade,” and therefore
need strict codes of conduct to stay on the straight
and narrow.
One of the reasons
that Gibney is so good at arousing feelings of
indignation and outrage in his audience is that,
unlike other cinematic provocateurs like Michael
Moore, he doesn’t rely on bombast or gimmicks
to do his work for him. He lets evidence and rational
argument speak for themselves. The individuals
he is criticizing damn themselves with their own
words, while Gibney skillfully contrasts their
dissimulations and justifications with the cold,
hard facts. A great deal of credit must also be
given to Taxi’s editor, Sloane
Klevin, who, in her first documentary film, masters
the art of making an argument with sound and image.
Taxi is undoubtedly a charged and passionate
polemic, but it’s a very successful one.
This is because it’s a highly filmic piece,
which expertly uses all the tools available to
make its case.
In an elegant and
moving codicil, Gibney dedicates the film to his
late father, Frank Gibney, who worked as a military
interrogator in Japan during World War II. It
was his father’s deep distress at the news
of Abu Ghraib – which, in his own words,
“destroyed” his faith in the American
government – that prompted his son to make
the film. One can only hope that, in finding an
impassioned audience, the son’s work will
fulfill the father’s dream of a country
that lives up to the principles it is fighting
to defend.
Gregory Hoblit's
Untraceable
Opens Friday, January 18, 2008
Starring: Diane
Lane, Billy Burke, Colin Hanks, Joseph Cross,
and Mary Beth Hurt
Reviewed by Marguerite
Daniels
Everyone hates
a serial killer, except for the immensely popular
serial killer in Gregory Hoblit's Untraceable.
In this eerie film written by Robert Fyvolent,
Mark R. Brinkler and Allison Burnett, the murderer
is applauded by thrill-seeking cyber-groupies
who log-on to watch the killer as he tortures
victim after victim. Fortunately Diane Lane's
FBI Special Agent Jennifer Marsh is tracking the
killer. There's something about Diane Lane that
makes you want to applaud her characters whether
they are purchasing a home in Tuscany or committing
wanton adultery with Olivier Martinez. The same
is true of Diane Lane's turn as Special Agent
Marsh. Here, she is sharp, world-weary, and tenacious.
Special Agent Marsh wears many hats; she's a tech-savvy
cyber-sleuth, a loving and dedicated single mother
to the adorable moppet, Annie (Perla Haney-Jardine),
and she is a patient and tolerant friend who endures
the constant meandering chatter of her co-worker
Griffin (Colin Hanks). She also manages to look
put-together despite a propensity to shroud herself
in flannel tops and lumberjack boots. Special
Agent Marsh raises her daughter along with her
equally self-sufficient mother Stella Marsh (Mary
Beth Hurt) a gardening phenom who baby-sits Annie
whenever Jennifer runs off to solve a case.
The film is set
in Portland, Oregon, a city so picturesque in
its grandeur that even the interiors of the homes
are majestic. (Who knew that FBI work could afford
plush linens, and sleek bathroom fixtures in a
house situated in one of Portland's oldest neighborhoods?)
What's nice about Untraceable is that
we are given insight into the world of professional
geeks. Special Agent Marsh and her partner Griffin
work with a magnificent band of nebbish misfits
who spend their days catching internet sexual
predators and credit card crooks. These nerd/cop
hybrids have been lulled into a seemingly peaceful
world where they are free to indulge their innermost
geek desires: they troll the internet and eventually
hope to get laid through online dating. But sadly,
as in real life, the geeks don't get laid. Instead,
they receive an anonymous tip for a creepy new
website, killwithme.com, that not only increases
their workload, but puts them face to face with
a dangerous serial killer. At first the killer
seems to be a mean prankster; he places a sweet
little kitten on a sticky trap, records the kitten's
ordeal, and encourages his viewers to publicize
the site as they watch the kitten die on camera.
The site becomes an instant hit amongst cyber-pervs.
As our intrepid FBI agents watch in horror, the
killer moves on to gruesomely slaying bipeds as
the site's popularity grows almost exponentially
through word of mouth: the more people that log-on
to watch the killer torture his victim, the faster
the victim dies.
The killer stays
one step ahead of the FBI by using an elaborate
network of servers. Every time Special Agent Marsh
and her team attempt to shut killwithme.com down,
the website jumps to another server making the
website untraceable.
There are
product placements galore in this film (Windows
Vista, anyone? How about a ride in Subaru Outback
with OnStar road-side assistance?), but nerds
and geeks can rejoice for the filmmakers have
done their due diligence; the film is chock-full
of authenticity and tech-speak. There is even
an accompanying website http://killwithme.com/
where movie buffs are invited to play games while
the serial killer taunts and threatens. The film
does become a tad predictable when Special Agent
Marsh is paired with a hunky homicide detective,
Eric Box, played stoically by Billy Burke, and
meets resistance from her inanely pig-headed boss,
Richard Brooks (Peter Lewis), who doesn't heed
his expert teams' warning and hastens the death
of yet another victim. Also, the killer is obviously
sinister and you wonder how he's able to charm
his victims long enough to snare them. The basement
he tortures them in is text-book dingy. This is
common and familiar territory to movie-goers,
and a few may loose interest. But under Gregory
Hoblit's skilled direction the film ends with
a thrilling surprise that makes its boiler-plate,
serial killer movie tedium almost forgotten.
Philip Seymour Hoffman
and Laura Linney in The Savages
Tamara Jenkins’
The Savages
Reviewed by Corey Shtasel-Gottlieb
A film rooted
in themes of unyielding discomfort—guilt,
aging, death, and the internal entropy that each
invokes—must be next to perfect if it is
to succeed. Too often do movies slide blindly
into the realm of the ultra-weighty without just
recognition of what exactly what they’ve
exposed. Tamara Jenkins seems keenly aware of
such a fate, though, as she has written and directed
a film that radiates with the warmth that exists
deep below the surface of human pain. The
Savages is at once beautiful and tragic,
a poignant glance at raw middle-agedness. Jenkins
treads the tightrope between laughter and tears
with a grace only attainable by one who lives
what she writes. More than just gutsy, her depiction
of people-getting-older is elegant. She pokes
at the lump in our throats with barely decipherable
touches, chipping away at our natural resistance
to stories that hit too close to home. The end
result is a feel-bad-feel-good movie that will
leave viewers satisfied in their depression.
The Savages is the story of a disjointed
family, forced to reconnect by the tragic realities
of aging. Siblings Jon and Wendy Savage are pulled
from their fairly average (if unfulfilled) adult
lives by the rapid deterioration of their father,
Lenny. As the film opens, a weathered Lenny Savage
(Philip Bosco) sounds dementia’s alarm by
smearing feces on his apartment walls, painting
a too-literal picture of the shittiness of getting
older. Soon after, Lenny’s girlfriend dies
suddenly, and his children are left to pick up
the pieces of a man already too far broken to
be rebuilt. That Jon and Wendy Savage are themselves
so fragmented only intensifies the discomfort
with which we observe this process. Jon (Philip
Seymour Hoffman) is a relatively successful author
teaching theater history in Buffalo, a man who
seems to have just missed the mark in each phase
of his life: he is not quite in shape, not quite
upper-middle class, not quite married or settled
or content. His nagging writer’s block reflects
the emptiness that gradually burrows through his
core, a wanting-more that surfaces in his sometimes
condescending, sometimes bitter affect. Wendy
(Laura Linney) is an unpublished playwright, self-medicating
her way through temp jobs in Manhattan and an
affair with her married, nympho neighbor. She
is (like so many adults living alone for too long)
narcissistic and unconvincingly optimistic.
The hidden scabs of both characters are uncovered
when Jon and Wendy are forced to live together
to care for their father. The film’s painful
irony is that the Savage siblings can only find
themselves as they watch the clock tick on their
father’s life. Not unlike the lingering
morbidity that made William Faulkner’s As
I Lay Dying a uniquely disturbing classic,
The Savages functions atop a backdrop
of human deterioration. The struggle to accept
this as their father’s fate pushes Jon and
Wendy to bear down—and even, sometimes,
to smile—in the face of their own vulnerabilities.
With this as her thread, Jenkins plays on the
very human need to counter suffering with self-deprecating
laughter.
Strong performances from both Seymour Hoffman
and Linney allow Jenkins’ plotline the grittiness
that it needs to succeed. As always, Seymour Hoffman
brings unaffected passion and believability to
his role. His versatility in 2007 (see also: Before
The Devil Knows You’re Dead and Charlie
Wilson’s War) must leave us expecting
nothing less than greatness in everything that
he touches in the coming year. And yet, here he
may have been bested by Linney, whose portrayal
of middle-aged neurosis is near perfect. She pinpoints
the cross-section between chutzpah and instability
with a rawness that makes us cringe. The on-screen
dynamic that emerges between these two seasoned
performers is special to watch, as they seamlessly
spin sibling rivalry’s familiar tensions.
In effect, The Savages joins a list of
well-written, well-acted films in 2007. While
it fails to pack the blockbuster punch of movies
like No Country For Old Men and There
Will Be Blood, it delves into the core of
human emotion with unique force. It succeeds—as
most films of its kind do not—as tragedy
and comedy, both, making it well worth the price
of admission.
