CriticSociety- film reviews

Review

Under the Same Moon

Director

Patricia Riggen

Year

2007

Rating

Reviewed by

José Ruiloba a.k.a. Morris

Review date

Monday, March 31, 2008

For all the hoopla that surrounded Mexican cinema (or Mexican filmmakers) in 2006, the year after that wasn’t that good in any respect except for maybe a couple of exceptions. 2008 promises to be better though, starting with the release of La Misma Luna (its original title) which already received approval at the Sundance Film Festival and which is also doing good business outside its home country.

Carlitos (Adrián Alonso) lives with his grandmother Benita (Angelina Peláez) since his mother Rosario (Kate del Castillo) illegally crossed the border and settled in L.A. in order to provide a better life for his son and eventually bring him with her. But after four years Carlitos gets impatient and sets on the adventure of finding his mother with the help of siblings Marta (America Ferrera) and David (Jesse Garcia). Things don’t go as planned and Carlitos finds himself in the company of another immigrant, grumpy Enrique (Eugenio Derbez), who reluctantly joins him on his quest.

Patricia Riggen directed from a screenplay by Ligiah Villalobos which is rooted in a reality that for all its harshness has elements of a fantasy as well. Much serious talk has derived from the illegal immigrants’ status in the U.S. and it definitely is an important issue which should be addressed and debated upon. The struggles they have to go through, whether you support their cause or not, are not to be taken lightly. Riggen doesn’t shy away from depicting the poverty and persecution behind their lives, but she is also interested in getting to the heart of her audience and having them fall in love with her characters.

At the center of all the unpleasantness is a remarkable child, Carlitos, who wishes so much to be reunited with his mother that it’s impossible not to feel for him. His path is full of eventualities, much of which make the bulk of the movie and prove an interesting array of situations and characters which work in various degrees. His encounter with Mexican band Los Tigres del Norte makes for the most ridiculous scene in the movie, while the scenes when he crosses the border or those he shares with Enrique are pure gold. A poignant encounter with a relevant person in his life comes too easy, but pays off once it plays.

A parallel storyline has Rosario struggling to make an everyday life out of two jobs and being encouraged by her best friend Alicia (Maya Zapata) and a suitor, Paco (Gabriel Porras), to keep her spirits high for it will all be worth it one day. Her existence is not easy, and I liked the way it’s portrayed. Riggen does one thing right, she neither condemns nor glorifies Americans; the movie is filled with all sorts of characters that show many sides of the spectrum. Even the policemen are not judged; they are enemies because we’re seeing the story from the point of view of the immigrants, but their depiction could’ve been harsher.

Under the Same Moon is not a movie that will change the world, but it’s a small venture that will leave you with a good aftertaste, that is wholesome entertainment for the whole family and that will make you laugh, cry and think in equal measures. Production elements are world-class, with cinematographer Checco Varese and composer Carlo Siliotto delivering particularly good work.

The cast is mainly comprised of well-known (and commercial) Mexican faces who will mean nothing to foreign audiences. Adrián Alonso has been delivering excellent performances the last years and he is just as strong this time around. Eugenio Derbez, an acclaimed comedian in his home country, plays against-type and does so with gusto. Kate del Castillo also shines as the afflicted mother who is trying as hard as she can. Supporting performers include America Ferrera, Jesse Garcia, Gabriel Porras, Maya Zapata, Carmen Salinas, Ernesto D’Alessio, María Rojo, Gustavo Sánchez Parra, Jacqueline Voltaire and many others; they are all up to the challenge.

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Review

Elizabeth: The Golden Age

Director

Shekhar Kapur

Year

2007

Rating

Reviewed by

Gon Curiel a.k.a. Groucho

Review date

Thursday, March 27, 2008

There’s absolutely nothing wrong with playing with fact, timelines and even atomic historical truths in order to make a based-on-fact account entertaining. It’s common practice in Hollywood retellings and particularly in biopics, which usually require such trimming that it’s impossible to get into detail in order to be truthful because it would result in a long and probably dull account of something that is in fact passionate and world-changing, hence historical.

Elizabeth: The Golden Age gets it totally wrong. It plays with fact, timelines, truths, even logic, and doesn’t turn out entertaining, but the exact opposite. So, it’s absurd and boring. Talk about a decade-later sequel to one of the best biopics from recent years. Considering how passionate every stage of the reign of Queen Elizabeth of England was, it’s incomprehensible that a slice-of-life of hers can be meaningless when turned into a commercial motion picture. No way to figure that one out. That Cate Blanchett was again cast as the Queen is the picture’s sole strength. Without her, it would be close to insulting.

Because Blanchett delivers the goods and, let’s face it, most of us went to see this piece with the sole purpose of watching her embody the Queen once again and do so as masterfully as the first time, because there’s no other way she could have done it, since she’s always so amazing. Tell you the truth, I didn’t swallow her role this time around easily, she didn’t seem to fit it, she appeared as delicate and naïve as she was in the previous film, but little by little into the film she gained a power that went beyond her expression and superficial behavior and made sense when considering that the Queen, despite her legend, was after all a human being who surely had as much day-by-day weakness as all of us.

That’s more or less what the first film was about, to show us how she was and what forces of nature and evil turned her into what was depicted several times afterwards and shown to us repeatedly in encyclopedias. So, the fact that years later she appears to be as fragile is a shocker, but then becomes even a stronger asset of her history because it implies that even years into the history-book-friendly image that she made up for herself, she wasn’t so sure of what she had become. That insight is so powerful it alone becomes a fascinating subject and it’s a marvel that the screenplay by William Nicholson and Michael Hirst managed to give it some spotlight, even though as a whole it’s poorly written and practically devoted to deviating from whatever could be interesting, in the sense of explaining some more and leaving the reactions flow naturally.

Let me get into that. When you see a character crying about something but you don’t feel the pain despite having seen what happened, that’s melodrama. Instead, when something strongly affects you and the character hardly reacts, but you know the pain is there, that’s drama, and of the mightiest kind. Blanchett’s sadness and rage are perfect, but they never suit the occasion, making it laughable. Only because she’s so constantly tormented do we manage to sympathize with her struggles but that’s after we decide to cut the film a slack because we so want to believe that the belated sequel of that great movie isn’t a total waste, and that Blanchett’s performance is as great as we’ve been told. It is as great, even greater maybe, because she could have made a fool of herself more than once, and yet she convinced us. Leaving it all to the actor is extremely unfair, and that’s the case here.

The rest is an empty shell, a vast skeletal hulk made up of high roofs, wide rooms with careful details on the walls, out-of-this-world costumes that no doubt surpass the real ones, and outstanding makeup here and there and all for naught. It works against the piece, in fact, emphasizing the poor storytelling and uninspired direction, by Shekhar Kapur no less, the man who helmed the first one too.

Elizabeth again tussles against men who want to have their way: be it her counselors who want her married, her enemies who want her dead, or even an attractive man who comes into the court, waking up her interest. Geoffrey Rush comes back as Sir Francis Walsingham, embodying the first group, and losing all that made him admirable back in the days, when he killed in cold blood in a power-hungry attempt to win the Queen’s favor even if helping her didn’t look like the sensible thing to do. Elizabeth’s enemy this time is King Philip II of Spain, her ex-brother-in-law, whom we remember as being fed up by Queen Mary and now turns out a fanatic that despises Elizabeth for being a Protestant. If there’s any truth in that, I don’t know, but I’m sure of one thing: wars rarely happen for the reasons we’re told, and no man in power believes the “public” reasons as passionately as this man, as played by Jordi Mollà, does. When he tells his daughter about the Protestant whore who’s the head of England it’s hilarious, not only because of his absurdly emphatic Spanish, but because his motivations are so weak it’s hard to believe he had followers. Last but not least, enter Clive Owen as the famous Sir Walter Raleigh, who seems to be in the film to make use of his name to attract audiences, and I should say these men do, Clive Owen and Sir Walter Raleigh, because both are big names that attract crowds. The asynchronous way in which Raleigh and the Queen are made look like they could have had an affection beyond patriotism is a clear mock. The three most important men in the film are made look like clowns.

Luckily, and as a saving grace, the strongest antagonist is not a man, but a woman, which at least gives the procedures some freshness. This is Mary Stuart, Queen of Scots, imprisoned in luxury by Elizabeth to prevent her from gaining power, but allowing her to constantly conspire and almost achieve her mischievous (or so they’re made look) goals. Samantha Morton doesn’t have much air to breathe, but she leaves the strongest impression after Blanchett, and is another reason to check this one out.

There’s a big naval battle towards the end, but don’t be fooled: instead of turning Elizabeth: The Golden Age into an epic, it disconcerts the viewer because the sequence is out of place from what was presented before. Also, it’s far from a climax. Add to that some swashbuckling action by Clive Owen and you’ve got a genuinely bizarre action-adventure attempt that simply doesn’t work.

The best moment of the film evokes another from Elizabeth (1998) with the Queen remembering the good ole times when she was allowed to live a normal life. Even that movie’s background music is played. We feel the same way she does: we just wish things were like they used to be.

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Review

La Vie en Rose

Director

Olivier Dahan

Year

2007

Rating

Reviewed by

José Ruiloba a.k.a. Morris

Review date

Wednesday, March 26, 2008

It’s funny but I can recall the exact moment I became aware of legendary French singer Edith Piaf. It was during the first time I saw Saving Private Ryan, when her classic “Non, je ne regrette rien” is heard on a radio while Tom Hanks and his soldiers are waiting for battle. It’s a very emotional moment in the movie and the song stuck with me right then and there.

As a girl born in early 20th century France, Edith (Manon Chevallier) was abandoned by her parents and left to live with her grandmother Momone (Sylvie Testud), who ran a brothel. The prostitutes there helped raise Edith (Pauline Burlet) but one of them, Titine (Emmanuelle Seigner), became especially smitten. As her father took her away and brought her to the road, she started to show signs of talent with her potent voice. Cabaret manager Louis Lepleé (Gerard Depardieu) discovered her and gave her a job, choosing the name of “La Môme Piaf” for her and becoming her guide. Stardom and excesses soon followed.

Olivier Dahan directed from his own screenplay in par with Isabelle Sobelman. The director opted to use a non-linear approach that permeates the entire movie. We get scenes from Edith’s childhood, adolescence and adult life in no particular order and for no other reason, I think, than to keep the audience interested and not thinking this is yet another typical biopic. But it’s hard to be fooled, it is another typical biopic of a star with a difficult childhood, rebellious upbringing and a life filled with booze and drugs. By the time Edith died at 47 she looked like a woman thirty years older; that alone speaks volumes about the intensity of her life.

But laying aside the cynicism (it’s really about the journey, right?), La Vie en Rose does provide a couple hours of solid entertainment. The drama is not dull and the pace is just about right. The music is lively and enjoyable, especially for Piaf lovers. The childhood scenes are especially intriguing, for they provide an unconventional backdrop and fascinating characters. The adult bits are more predictable, with addictions, sicknesses and lovers filling the void. Scenes of Piaf at big concerts are an exception though, truly breathtaking.

What struck me the most about her story, given that I knew nothing about it, is how insufferable the woman was; she was like a child even while on her deathbed. She might’ve been a star, but she certainly was no sweetie and as a human being she left a lot to be desired. People with strong personalities make for more interesting characters I must admit, but this was surprising, is all.

As a downside, the movie does not explain some things very well. I had to read about Piaf’s life after watching the movie to even get that she was married twice. Details about a certain murder are fuzzy as well, and a probable involvement with the French Resistance during World War II is not even touched upon.

Music plays an important part in the movie, as one might imagine, and Piaf’s songs are heard all over the place in various forms. She had a peculiar voice which may not be of everyone’s tastes (at times it can be irritating) but there’s no denying her incredible talent and the feeling she immersed in every performance. Christopher Gunning’s score uses material from her songs but his original music stands on its own and is absolutely beautiful and affecting. Impeccable work also comes from cinematographer Tetsuo Nagata and everyone who had anything to do with recreating the era; from costumes to production design it’s all spot-on.

If there is something worth getting you to see La Môme (its original title) it is Marion Cotillard’s tour-de-force performance in the title role. A natural beauty in real-life, she is aided by absolutely flawless makeup to transform her into this froggy-like woman with a big voice and an even bigger attitude. Cotillard gamely lip-synchs every song and immerses herself completely into the demanding role. Strong support is given by Manon Chevallier and Pauline Burlet as young Ediths, as well as Sylvie Testud, Emmanuelle Seigner, Gerard Depardieu, Jean-Pierre Martins, Marc Barbé and Caroline Silhol as Marlene Dietrich.

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Other reviews of La Vie en Rose (2007): Groucho

Review

La Vie en Rose

Director

Olivier Dahan

Year

2007

Rating

Reviewed by

Gon Curiel a.k.a. Groucho

Review date

Tuesday, March 25, 2008

I was so tired of La Vie en Rose before watching it that I even had the stupid thought of skipping it. I’m exaggerating, of course, but it was exhausting to imagine yet another biopic of a twentieth century singer whose life was haunted by failed romances and excesses in every respect. Though I didn’t dig into reviews, I heard some comments stating this was more of the same. My expectations weren’t high or low, I just didn’t care. I walked into the theater hoping I would at least enjoy the music.

I have always liked Edith Piaf’s music. I heard her big hit “Non, je ne regrette rien” as a kid and never again forgot it. I remember being impressed by the potency of Piaf’s voice and even though I never heard anything about her personal life I thought the way she sung that song reflected a very profound meaning that went much deeper than the song intended.

From the very beginning of the biopic, La Môme, renamed La Vie en Rose for American audiences, “La Vie en Rose” being yet another of Piaf’s hits, that one with lyrics by herself, it’s clear that Piaf’s life was extraordinary. She appears old, hurt, perhaps ill-treated, definitely exhausted, but also tireless and clearly resolved to keep the show going on despite any circumstance. The film does something impressive by starting like this, because it establishes a frame that is unavoidable. By showing her in a dramatic appearance that ends in her passing out while singing, and presenting a woman with a gargantuan history showing in every aspect of her physique and flowing through her singing, the movie promises to give us the path that led to that, and it tells us that it won’t be easy on us and much less on the star. It’s the kind of setup that shows the ending and by doing so, instead of killing the interest, quite augments it.

From then on, it’s all a wild ride through Edith Piaf’s life. Outstanding, might I add! The show never stops, it just keeps going, it increases its intensity at every step, it gives us strong doses of this woman’s experiences in an unforgiving way, like somehow we owe to her to understand and suffer along, to share her scattered happiness and cry her tears, and receive her music like a gift from the depths of her heart and soul, where much darkness continuously threatens, and a constant light manages to sneak out and illuminate the world, and that light is her voice, and her voice is pure music.

I was completely right in expecting exactly what I got in the sense of a turbulent childhood, a precocious youth and a life of overwhelming success filled with vices and excesses. What I was dead wrong about was in thinking it would be done in a linear, conventional way that would’ve made it totally unpleasant. The problem with such biographies is that there’s no avoiding the fact that while the star is going up the human being is going down. These stories are typically depressing in showing how destructive show business can be and how hard it is to avoid the tumultuous life that comes with it. By intertwining different moments of the whole of Edith’s life the awesome screenplay by director Dahan and Isabelle Sobelman is not trying to fool us or deviate our attention from the negative things, because after all her life was turbulent from start to finish, but instead gives her story a certain universality, a sort of constant value that makes it appear like there’s barely an instant between her childhood and her youth and her older age, despite being in her late 40s and looking twice her age, no doubt a result of the great speed with which she lived her life. Because, after all, her life is a constant contained in two words that are spoken in no time but contain so much it’s incalculable: Edith Piaf.

Music is pivotal, but not only her music. We see her singing and we eventually hear her songs as background. Original music by Christopher Gunning does the rest and of course it’s important. There’s even a scene where Edith Piaf comes into the stage to perform in front of a large and serious audience for the first time, and she’s terrified. Instead of letting us hear her, while she sings and gesticulates like she’s never done before, emotional music plays on top. I understand the intention but it’s plain wrong. We should hear her singing and see her performing and live the emotions that the original audience lived when they discovered the greatness of this new singer called Edith Piaf, once la Môme Piaf (“The Little Sparrow”), who would never again leave the stage until very near her death decades later. That we’re not allowed to witness this performance in full form, aside from the obvious economy of trimming her whole presentation which was comprised by many songs, is a consequence of already having shown us flash-forwards into her later life when performing masterfully was an everyday routine. Still, it was sad to be left out. I guess there weren’t many ways around it, but I still believe a single song would’ve done it.

Because the first few songs she sings, not in the movie but in her life, are unremarkable. Though I’m far from a music critic, I can tell between a good and a bad performance even by Edith Piaf, and I noticed how poor her performances as La Môme Piaf were. It was a delight to see her improve later on. The segment of her beginnings as a singer thanks to mentor Louis Leplée is much more interesting historically than it is dramatically. Gérard Depardieu plays this man and his is a welcomed appearance, as always. The man is eventually murdered, and it is insinuated but never confirmed that he was killed by a pimp who controlled Edith, though Edith gave him money she made by singing in the streets instead of sleeping with unknown men. Not that this was taboo. Earlier in her life she lived in a brothel which has handled by her grandmother (Sylvie Testud), where she lived many happy years in the hands of the prostitutes who adopted her with great love—particularly one called Titine (Emmanuelle Seigner).

The bright memories of her earlier years are never abandoned by Edith, whose personality is a result of them and only gets stronger through the passing years. This is despite her dreadful luck when it concerns her love affairs and her irremediable addiction to morphine which physically shatters her.

Marion Cotillard plays Edith Piaf. It’s her first significant role and she might never surpass it. She so embodies the singer that it’s hard to tell them apart afterwards, the same way that happened in The Queen (2006). Her voice, her poise, her mannerisms, everything is there. And she’s a powerhouse when it comes to showing or confiding emotions. She plays so many phases of Edith’s life that it’s a wonder she’s the same person. And the work around her, makeup and otherwise, is perfection. Cotillard truly shook the screen last year. Hers is one of the greatest performances in quite a long time.

Not by coincidence, though it was never intended that way, her hit song “Non, je ne regrette rien” represents her stance about the life that she lived, and that’s why it’s chosen as the movie’s final act as if it was also her last in real life. Again, the script plays with time to only make it appear that way, though it does go too far when she hears the song in the voice of its composers for the first time. However, it works magnificently and I’m glad the ending was like this. The framing ends in a positive note. Instead of going down, the story of her life goes up. The same as her legend.

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Other reviews of La Vie en Rose (2007): Morris

Review

August Rush

Director

Kristen Sheridan

Year

2007

Rating

Reviewed by

José Ruiloba a.k.a. Morris

Review date

Monday, March 24, 2008

I went into August Rush expecting it to be this year’s inspirational underdog movie that comes out once in a while and knocks your socks off. Unfortunately though, it doesn’t live up to expectations at all. It’s quirky and hard to identify with, and even though I support edgy and original material this flick doesn’t even stand that well on its own terms.

Evan Taylor (Freddie Highmore) was born out of a romantic one night encounter between a promising cellist, Lyla Novacek (Keri Russell), and the lead of a rock band, Louis Connelly (Jonathan Rhys Meyers). But Lyla’s father, Thomas (William Sadler) fooled her into thinking his son died at birth and Evan was sent to an orphanage. Dreaming of finding his parents he escapes and ends up in New York, where he works for a child exploiter known as the Wizard (Robin Williams). As it happens, Evan is a musical prodigy and he soon finds himself working under the name of August Rush, something that makes it more complicated for child’s care official Richard Jeffries (Terrence Howard) to find him.

Kirsten Sheridan directed from a screenplay by Nick Castle and James V. Hart. The main problem with their work is that it suffers from a case of “the weirdness”. The movie opens with a narration from Evan detailing how he can find music in everything he hears; ok, nice concept, fair enough. But then he goes all “if I play enough music my parents will listen and find me”. Innocent lad, ok. But guess what? He was right! So this is a fantasy, ok, I can go with it. And then comes the wacko who wants to profit from August and it’s all pretty bleak and disturbing. Even August’s parents come off as strange folk, although it’s hard not to identify with Lyla’s ordeal; she’s the only character for which I felt anything.

The third act involves August and his parents eventually coming closer and closer together. We all know how the thing’s going to end since the very first scene, but the movie is certainly affecting when it comes to its finale (that’s how it earned the half-star in my grade). An amazing series of coincidences are necessary for it to work, but the suspension of disbelief had kicked in long before so it isn’t that bothersome. Unfortunately when it comes to the very last sequence the movie was screaming for an over-the-top melodramatic encounter filled with slow-mo shots and a big hug. Forget about it, there’s nothing of the sort and even though we are lifted the payoff simply doesn’t deliver; a pity.

Music plays an important role in the movie, as you might imagine, so it’s also a shame that it isn’t memorable. It’s all good enough, whether it’s Louis singing or August playing, but nothing really stands out and I can’t remember a single tune. Mark Mancina’s score is adequate, although nothing to write home about.

Freddie Highmore, a child actor I have always found to be naturally talented, actually disappointed me this time around. He is completely stiff, with no trace of spontaneity and a lot of forced moments. Keri Russell is excellent, the one true standout. And Jonathan Rhys Meyers is also good, although he’s a bit too edgy for this kind of role; it was hard to detach the actor from the character. Terrence Howard is wasted and doesn’t really have anything to do, while Robin Williams is plain weird. I don’t know about you, but the last years I can’t even stand to look at him, that’s how bad it’s gotten.

“The music is all around you, all you have to do is listen.”

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Review

Vantage Point

Director

Pete Travis

Year

2008

Rating

Reviewed by

Gon Curiel a.k.a. Groucho

Review date

Thursday, March 20, 2008

Some people have compared Vantage Point to Rashomon (1950) or said that it’s Rashomon-style and let me make something clear: it’s just not Rashomon-style or anything like that movie. Rashomon presents different points of view of the same fact but not strictly as they happened but from the perspective of each one of the participants. Vantage Point simply presents different layers of the same story, not from personal perspective but simply from personal experience, meaning that nothing changes from version to version, in fact there aren’t different versions, only more things to tell that some people experienced which others didn’t. To compare this with Rashomon is an insult not only because the device is different, or because the intention is nothing similar, but because the Japanese film is a masterpiece, and Vantage Point a total waste.

Not that the intention was bad. Barry Levy’s screenplay attempts to dismember a story of political intrigue showing first a general view (from the eyes of the media) and then, little by little, layer by layer, every relevant detail. The idea is good, but it doesn’t pay off mainly because there’s nothing new to this story, the characters are mostly uninteresting, and there’s no change of tone from story to story. Despite the range of ethnicities and cultures in the protagonists of every recount, they all lived through mostly the same thing, and their point of view doesn’t make it look different, only more or less informed. Furthermore, the revelations take quite a while to come, and it’s exasperating to keep looping in time without finding out much. The gimmick is to turn back the clock to 12:00:00, right before the President of the United States is shot during a public event in Salamanca, Spain, and every time the scene is rewound and a clock appears stating it’s noon and bells toll in the background, I felt like running out of the theater.

Political intrigue has always been interesting but that’s either because you know what motivates it or you root for either side. This time around, the audience never connects with the President or the rebels and never wholly understands the intention of the attempt, so it’s hard to root for anyone and to care about the outcome or motivations or even to want to discover the procedures and the people involved in the terrorist attack. It’s a failure.

The script tries to create empathy with a shell-shocked bodyguard, Thomas Barnes (played by Dennis Quaid), who’s back on the job but is jumpy and perhaps impulsive. This is mildly successful. Quaid is extremely sympathetic and it’s easy to go along with him, but it’s also hard to believe in his superhuman abilities, especially after a certain car crash. Another bodyguard is played by Matthew Fox, who is at least more likable than his annoying character in the TV series “LOST”, so if anything, this film helped me see that actor in a more positive light (I realize he’s not a bad actor, but I can’t help disliking him if the only major character I’ve seen him play is constantly exasperating). Despite the shortcomings of the character he plays in this movie, including his laughable Spanish, I constantly liked him, which was a plus.

Talking about actors, what called my attention to this movie more than anything else was the casting of Eduardo Noriega. I try not to read or hear anything about a movie before watching it so I had no idea what role he played but he was in the posters and I was excited. I have admired that actor for many years now since I saw him in Open Your Eyes (1997) and it’s good news to see him in Hollywood. And while he didn’t exactly disappoint, because he makes the most out of a mostly insignificant part (not because of what it is but because of how it was handled), it wasn’t anywhere near redeeming to see him in the ensemble.

Matter of fact, the cast is the least of this movie’s problems. Stars are everywhere in sight but most of them are awfully wasted despite having good moments. Sigourney Weaver is in the opening sequence playing a frantic news producer; she’s gone way too soon and the film suffers from a setback after her scenes. The President is played by William Hurt, who has what it takes to play such a powerful man, but has ridiculously little time to prove he’s got it. Forest Whitaker is a bystander, an American tourist with a video camera who just happens to outsmart most everybody without even trying; he’s the latest Forrest Gump. It’s absurd.

After so many obnoxious rewinds the film finally goes into its final act and climax and one can’t help but be thankful that at last there will be some action and resolution. There’s a chase scene that’s perfectly executed which almost makes you forget how awful a mess the movie has been up to that point. But then comes the clash of the subplots, the moment where everything comes together, and it’s so incredibly contrived it’s unforgivable. There’s no suspension of disbelief capable of justifying such nonsense. It almost looks like a parody of Hollywood cliché endings. Perhaps it would’ve worked better as a comedy.

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Review

Elizabeth

Director

Shekhar Kapur

Year

1998

Rating

Reviewed by

José Ruiloba a.k.a. Morris

Review date

Wednesday, March 19, 2008

Elizabeth was the subject of much controversy when Oscar nominations were announced in 1999. It unexpectedly made it into the Best Picture line-up while The Truman Show (1998) was left out. The competition also figured a neck-to-neck run for the Best Actress award between Cate Blanchett and Gwyneth Paltrow (in another Elizabethan movie); you were either on one side or the other. Whatever your feelings towards the whole thing, it’s difficult to deny the sheer power of this historical epic.

The movie depicts the early years of Elizabeth. At 25, when her Catholic half-sister Mary (Kathy Baker) dies, she, a Protestant, inherits the throne. Sir William Cecil (Richard Attenborough) guides her through the ordeal and pressures her to get married while her relationship with Lord Robert Dudley (Joseph Fiennes) begins to stumble. As the hatred between religions heats up, Sir Francis Walsingham (Geoffrey Rush) is appointed to protect her, especially from her main opponent the Duke of Norfolk (Christopher Eccleston).

Shekhar Kapur directed from a screenplay by Michael Hirst. I’m pretty sure many liberties were taken in telling this specific time in the life of one of the most notorious women in history, but as a movie the experience is breathtaking. It is not only that the era provides plenty of dramatic juice to sip into, but the woman at its center was a force to be reckoned with. Intrigue, mayhem, pressure and the very nature of men made her what she ultimately became, culminating in a final image that is both beautiful and powerful.

I was especially hooked by the portrayal of an era where politics and murder came hand in hand. It’s as if everybody had an opinion, but the means through which they all fought for it were pretty harsh. It’s also a fascinating entry into a place and time so different and in which manners and values were especially intriguing; take for example how Elizabeth’s maids went with her everywhere she went or how she needed help to shower and get dressed. I just dig well-done historical yarns.

The suspense, drama and romance are brought to vivid life by a team of talented craftspeople that make of Elizabeth a lush saga that is a pleasure to watch and hear from start to finish. Remi Adefarasin’s cinematography, Alexandra Byrne’s costume designs and John Myhre’s production design stand out as well as David Hirschfelder’s haunting score.

Cate Blanchett’s performance as the queen is of the kind that’ll be remembered through history as one of the most memorable pieces of acting by any actress in any movie. It has stood the test of time and it is still full of raw command and sensitivity. She gives it her all and takes your breath away. Joseph Fiennes is very good as her lover, as is Geoffrey Rush as her eventual confidante. Supporting performers include Richard Attenborough, Christopher Eccleston, Fanny Ardant, John Gielgud, Emily Mortimer, Vincent Cassel, Eric Cantona and Kelly Macdonald; they’re all superb.

“I have become a virgin.”

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Review

Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street

Director

Tim Burton

Year

2007

Rating

Reviewed by

Gon Curiel a.k.a. Groucho

Review date

Tuesday, March 18, 2008

The stage musical adaptation, by Stephen Sondheim and Hugh Wheeler, of the English folklore, seems like a heaven-sent project for Tim Burton. I learned all about the alleged murderer Sweeney Todd, his influence in culture, and the numerous appearances he’s had in varied media, and all I can say is, I was surprised to learn that it didn’t originate with Tim Burton. I read further and learned that he was interested in bringing the musical to the screen so many years ago that he hadn’t even met his current “muses”, Johnny Depp and Helena Bonham Carter, yet a drawing he made of his vision of the lead characters eerily resembled the two actors he would later meet and prefer for most of his projects, and obviously this one.

Nothing eerie in it, though. They were in his mind, and he simply went on to find them. “A match made in heaven”, some people would say in a most corny way Burton would surely dislike. Sweeney Todd and Nellie Lovett are so much like Depp and Carter that it’s a wonder the roles weren’t written for them. Burton and his actors have an admirable communication that reaches immeasurable peaks. This is an example of a project coming off exactly as intended by its creator, and even though I haven’t read this anywhere, I’m pretty sure there’s absolutely nothing in it that Burton didn’t dream about in exactly the same way.

Even though I used to consider it one of the most powerful themes in drama, I now think revenge is one of the poorer. Pure revenge doesn’t exist. I can believe in people who seek revenge and put their energy on it but only if there’s something in it for them. Pure revenge exists only in a completely deranged mind because it’s a totally illogical move to attempt to get back at someone for the pure satisfaction of seeing that person down. In real life, I think, revenge is something that crosses the mind and can be perpetrated but only in an immediate way. “The best revenge is living well” is truer to fact, not because people find peace of mind and relaxation in rebuilding their life after being struck by lightning, instead of attempting to get back at the force that destroyed it in the first place, but because doing so is the only logical thing in a world where we can’t spend many resources in trying to get back at someone just for the hell of it.

That’s what I doubted that Sweeney Todd would pull off and I was glad to prove myself wrong once and again. Though this man is back in Victorian England from years of unfair imprisonment in Australia by a man who has stolen his wife and baby girl out of lust, and he claims to be back solely for revenge, his path is unequivocally self-destructive and deviated from the original values of the man that he used to be. The story’s arc proves immensely satisfactory when in the end it’s shown that none of his original claims mattered after all because there was no true sentiment in them—only the mechanical desire to satisfy them while in fact looking for a justification to the great unfairness of which he was victim. In prison, Benjamin Barker suffered so much that he became an entirely different man, even with a renewed identity and name: Sweeney Todd. “Never forget, never forgive” is the film’s tagline, and it is undoubtedly what Barker told himself every day while exiled. It became his raison d’être, much more than the original reason of his despair or desire for vengeance.

We only barely get to see Barker, and he’s so light and smooth that he resembles one of Johnny Depp’s brighter characters, J.M. Barrie in Finding Neverland (2004). But we prefer Mr. Todd: he’s tough, dark and way more appealing. He frowns from the very first instant to the very last, and in the exact same way, but he’s never one-dimensional. In fact, the way that he frowns is one of Depp’s greatest achievements: he can be mad, eager, joyous, disappointed or excited, and it’s all the same for his face, but still he manages to reflect his emotions. Depp’s choice of characters has been mostly notorious, and there are times like this, when he’s so perfect in bleak roles, that you see why.

It seems like Todd’s return to the “crime scene” is a fascinating need not to make things right but to seek for the remains of himself and probably hope for retaliation and atonement. But his eyes aren’t open. He blindly desires to slit the throat of the Judge that sentenced him to a life of hard labor, and everything else is immediately darkened. This includes the strong desire of a certain Mrs. Lovett, the pie cook whose shop is below the place where Todd’s barbershop used to be, and where he sets it up again. Mrs. Lovett is as crazed as Mr. Todd, but for very different reasons, and has much more humanity left in her, only in a twisted way. She’s happy to please him in every possible way including his murderous desires as long as he’s near her. She dreams of a happy life with him even if she imagines him to be as bitter as he seems destined to be, even in the most optimistic scenarios. And she even proposes to use dead meat out of murdered men for cheap pies to sell in her shop, so as to get rid of the corpses that Mr. Todd seems unable to stop producing.

The whys aren’t as important because it’s all warped. What’s important is to realize how little logic guides Sweeney Todd, how closely he resembles his own executor and how quickly he destroys himself while claiming to be looking only for his own best interests. It’s beautiful to see him create a whirlpool of destruction around himself while evading every original objective and in fact destroying way more than planned, but never on target.

Sweeney Todd’s path is so absorbing that there’s little space for anything else but it’s all presented in the same mood and magnificence and even the little brightness that there is seems muddled by his potency. The one pure, uncontaminated romance is in the form of Johanna, Sweeney’s baby daughter now grown up and in the custody of the perverted Judge that sentenced Todd, and Anthony Hope, the sailor who brought him to London. In these roles, Jayne Wisener and Jamie Campbell Bower are the weakest link, but serve their purpose.

The strongest affair comes in the parallel between Depp’s revenge-thirsty monster and the Judge’s sinister desires that have driven him through the years. His existence seems to be purely about owning what he can’t have, and in relapsing he becomes the second monster of the story, and again a man whose strongest desires prove to be his Achilles' heel.

Though Alan Rickman is nothing new in this role, it’s a pleasure as always to see him as a villain with weaknesses, and it’s strange but functional to see him singing. Way more refreshing is Timothy Spall, as his associate the Beadle, who seems to be doing this kind of role once and again, but always to perfection, and surprisingly refreshing every time. The other astounding performance is that of young Ed Sanders as Toby, the boy who becomes Todd’s and Lovett’s employee; his first scene is unforgettable. Sacha Baron Cohen has a short appearance that, while pivotal to the plot, is irrelevant for his skills.

Stephen Sondheim’s score is at times innovative and at others cliché. Since it’s much older than the film adaptation, it probably influenced the ways of Broadway, but it doesn’t sound like anything new today. There’s everything from two actors singing parallel verses to a similar tune being repeated throughout. Some of the songs, however, are clever enough to delight the ear and the brain simultaneously, but this isn’t always the case, and as a musical, Sweeney Todd hasn’t much to offer. Luckily, the black humor far surpasses the music as the film’s greatest asset, and in that sense, it works like wonders.

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Review

Charlie Wilson's War

Director

Mike Nichols

Year

2007

Rating

Reviewed by

José Ruiloba a.k.a. Morris

Review date

Monday, March 17, 2008

There are movies that when announced show a lot of potential; great director, great actors, great craftspeople and a great story. But only a few manage to actually deliver and defy expectations. In Hollywood it’s a common game to wait for the end of the year and see who wins and who loses. I actually like to pray, figuratively speaking, that as many of this type of movies end up being good… no, scratch that, that they end up being great. But life is unpredictable, and the movie business is even more so. The stars need to align for a few to work in more ways than one, but when it happens it is pure wondrous joy.

Charlie Wilson (Tom Hanks) is a hard-partying Texas congressman who is convinced by rich socialite Joanne Herring (Julia Roberts) to visit Pakistan to witness how the Afghan people have desperately fled from their country after the Soviet Union invaded them. With the help of CIA agent Gust Avrakotos (Philip Seymour Hoffman) they support a covert operation to get weapons for Afghanistan with the help of Israel, Pakistan and Saudi Arabia.

The great Mike Nichols directed from a screenplay by Aaron Sorkin, based on George Crile book that chronicles the real story of what Charlie Wilson managed to do in the 80’s which was, literally, help defeat America’s then-enemy without anyone really noticing. I am pretty sure there’s much more to the story than what the movie chronicles, but as it is we get a pretty clear picture of the goings-on of the time and what these three people accomplished almost single-handedly by themselves.

Charlie Wilson’s War reminded me of MASH (1970) in more ways than one... and that’s a good thing. They both share a seriocomic tone while telling very somber stories about a very grim subject matter: war. The trick is in finding the right tone to get away with it, and both Sorkin and Nichols nail it. Scene after scene the information provided is plentiful, yet the apparently light tone and rapid pace make it all move like a ticking clock without ever giving the idea that too much is going on, which it is. A particularly brilliant scene has Charlie conferring with Gust for the first time while he keeps being interrupted by his Charlie’s Angels-like assistants who bring some bad news; the comic-timing and choreography in it are down-right perfect, so much so that it’s easy to notice that both threads are dealing with immensely important issues that are not to be taken carelessly at all.

The dialogue is crisp and the interaction between the three main characters is heaven. I could’ve stayed with them for many more hours and never get tired of it. They’re all fascinating people who do fascinating things and keep delivering fascinating lines. And just when you think the movie could not get more poignant comes the ending, which leaves a bittersweet aftertaste in light of what we all know happened afterwards and which is still going on.

Only scene that made me go “uh, uh” is when the first chopper is put down; Nichols lost touch with the rest of the movie’s tone and went too broad with it. But apart from this, the flick remains consistently in check with what it tries to do from the get-go.

Tom Hanks plays against-type as a man of many flaws but with two things going for him: charisma and determination. It was pivotal that we could identify with the character despite his shortcomings and Hanks was just the right guy to do it. Philip Seymour Hoffman steals every scene he’s in with the deadpan delivery of his profanity-laced dialogue; he’s a hoot. Julia Roberts does not appear as much as one might expect, but when she’s onscreen she glows and truly brings it. Amy Adams has a welcomed appearance as Wilson’s faithful assistance, and so does Emily Blunt in just a couple of scenes. It was also good to see Ned Beatty in top form.

“You know you've reached rock bottom when you're told you have character flaws by a man who hanged his predecessor in a military coup.”

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Review

The Fountainhead

Director

King Vidor

Year

1949

Rating

Reviewed by

Gon Curiel a.k.a. Groucho

Review date

Thursday, March 13, 2008

Ayn Rand’s “The Fountainhead” is one of the most important things that have happened to me in a while. I had wanted to read that novel for years and when I finally did I found so much truth in it and so much of me put into words that I regretted wasting so much time by not reading it sooner. Rand’s philosophy is something I now follow in my everyday life probably as much as ever but in a much more conscious way and it’s wonderful. Rarely do you find something so illuminating and helpful in life and I’m thankful of this read and a blind follower.

The movie adaptation is as great philosophically and just as poor cinematically. “The Fountainhead” is one of those books once considered unfilmable but which didn’t end up, through a miraculously creative process, as a good movie. It simply is not, and it’s clear why. The book was such a big hit that Rand managed to sell the rights under some strict conditions, including that she write the script and her dialogue not be modified. While the book’s ideas are almost intact in the movie, and Rand’s philosophy is clearly laid out, the movie doesn’t work as a piece of cinema, and there’s just no denying that.

The team of King Vidor at the helm and Ayn Rand at the pen proved static, talky and insufficient. In fact, this is a perfect example of a book that becomes a film not unlike the book but just doesn’t work in this media, showing how a book is a book and a film is a film, even in such universal elements as characters or plot twists. While reading the novel, it’s impossible not to realize that the characters are not as much characters as they are philosophical symbolisms, but since the book is not ashamed of this, we soon go for it and read it accordingly, knowing what to expect and having accepted in advance the way they’ll behave as if their ideology was stronger than any other force in life.

We achieve this thanks to introspection but mostly through repetition; the rather lengthy book presents several situations in which the characters behave in a logical way, always the same, hence getting us into these human vehicles of philosophy and daring us to predict their reactions in every plot twist that comes up, no matter how farfetched. When the plot twists come, farfetched to the point of absurdity, the characters’ reactions make the story credible because of its importance despite its implausibility. Towards the end, “The Fountainhead” makes sense in a way that surpasses drama: it meddles in the domains of the real human being.

It’s pretty obvious what the movie’s problems are, and I could spot them even before watching the film. The characters are cold and aloof, apparently incapable of every normal human feeling, and even robotic in their attitudes. The story is incomplete because of the reasonable trimming when adapted into a screenplay, so that the viewer is forced to accept the characters’ ideologies only through a few examples; because this fails, the stretch grows as the story advances, making the barrier between viewer and movie thicker and thicker until a complete disconnection has taken place. I can’t imagine experiencing this without having read the book. I’d say it’s a waste.

But having read the book, the experience is pleasant. I can’t say they tore it apart, because after all, you can sense Rand behind it. It works as an illustration of Rand’s objectivism in moving pictures, and for that it’s valuable. I was dying to see it after finishing the book and I enjoyed it thoroughly because I was in the know, but I can’t recommend it as film per se. It’s a difficult position.

Gary Cooper plays Howard Roark and I can’t imagine a harder task, especially with Rand involved in the process. The man is supposed to be so ideal that Cooper either had a very high self-esteem or didn’t read the book, but despite the fact that he’s an admirable human being in every evident way (a fine actor with a towering physique), it must have required some courage to accept the role. It should have required some vision, too, about the fact that Roark would be as unfilmable himself as the whole novel, but Cooper is good; the script doesn’t give him much meat, but he moves, talks and acts accordingly.

Kent Smith is much less successful as Roark’s colleague Peter Keating, whom the story gives more air to breathe since he represents a much larger niche. Smith goes for the character’s weakness so soon that he fails to embody the characteristics that made Keating professionally and socially successful, if only for a while. Robert Douglas, as Roark’s rival Ellsworth M. Toohey, is every bit as exasperating as the character, which is a plus. Raymond Massey as millionaire Gail Wynand does what Smith fails to do and even pulls off some touching moments.

Patricia Neal plays Dominique Francon, the woman who believes herself to be frigid until she meets Roark and understands more about herself than she even thought there was. Francon is supposed to be everybody’s favorite person who just doesn’t seem willing to connect further with anyone just because. When Dominique understands her nature and reveals the reasons why she has never dared to live life it’s an emotional moment that’s hard to forget. Neal’s flaw is playing Francon as if the veil between her and the rest of the world was visible to everyone. It’s similar to Smith’s fault, since he makes Keating’s flaws too evident from the get-go. I think this is the worst detriment of the film: not Neal’s performance or Smith’s, in particular, but the general pretense, the notion that we should care and that this material should matter only for what it is, and not for how it’s presented.

Ironically, or perhaps appropriately, the movie’s greatest asset is the exact opposite: the mundane. One of the hardest things to adapt must have been the creations of Howard Roark, the uncompromised architect. The story concerns Roark’s strict ideals and his struggles against a media-manipulated society that wants him to compromise. Roark never goes for that, no matter how hard he falls, and continues conceiving modern buildings that defy everyone’s expectations once and again. I’m not an architectural expert but I would suppose that much effort was put into ensuring that these creations, brought to life in the film, are up to the challenge. I loved them. It’s pure pleasure to see this realized… and Max Steiner’s elegant music in the background doesn’t hurt these glorious moments a bit.

There was a dispute concerning the final speech of Howard Roark, which the filmmakers wanted to trim, to which Rand strongly objected. The speech, which went on for over five minutes, was the longest in film history at the time. It’s the thesis of Rand’s writing and certainly pivotal to the plot, but indeed boring, and delivered dully. The climax becomes an anti-climax. Other moments of lesser importance become the most noticeable. That’s the way this adaptation works.

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Review

Sleuth

Director

Kenneth Branagh

Year

2007

Rating

Reviewed by

José Ruiloba a.k.a. Morris

Review date

Wednesday, March 12, 2008

I didn’t know what to expect from Sleuth when I came into the theater. It generated so many polarizing views since it started to show at film festivals and was ultimately released that I felt the need to form my own opinion, regardless of whether I’d love it or hate it. The original 1972 adaptation is a masterpiece of suspense and character study, so the gimmick of bringing the same story to the screen had to have something new going for it. It does all right, and that’s where most of the controversy has come from.

Hairdresser Milo Tindle (Jude Law) makes a visit to successful writer Andrew Wyke (Michael Caine) in order to confront him about giving his wife, now Milo’s lover, the divorce. Wyke is not one to let go easily, so he makes Tindle a proposal: if he steals a set of jewels from him so he can cash in on the insurance he’ll let him keep and sell them in order to be able to afford his wife’s expensive cravings. Tindle accepts and a cat-and-mouse game begins which leads to unexpected consequences.

Kenneth Branagh directed from a screenplay by notorious playwright and screenwriter Harold Pinter, based on the Richard Shaffer play. Pinter gave the material a completely different spin, finding new ways to tell and finish the story and setting it in the modern world. The result is a strange amalgam of ideas that is filled with creative decisions that make of it a completely different experience but that are not without its own set of intriguing implications. That said, the dialogue is never less than crackling.

The first two-thirds of the movie play as a game in which both men try to “defeat” the other, where vengeance takes center stage and in which each leaves his mark and shows that they won’t let the other win easily. The third act is where most of the material has changed from its original source and in which the gay subtext (present since the very first scene in the movie) breaks all barriers and becomes explicit and an integral part of the outcome. I wasn’t bothered at all about this interpretation because it also makes sense; these two men say they’re madly in love with same woman, but after a while she has but completely been erased from the panorama and it becomes a matter of egos in which they find a worthy opponent in each other. If any, or both, are being honest during this bit is open to anyone’s interpretation; this ambiguity is mesmerizing.

The problem lies not in the content, but in the way it is done. When I recall the third act I see it as something of a mess; the ideas are fascinating but the representation is poor. A bit more finesse could’ve made of it a more elegant and believable back-and-forth, but it is all presented in over-the-top fashion and it seems like Branagh lost handle of what he was trying to show and tell. It’s a pity because what started as an intelligent examination of human behavior and a battle of wits ends up becoming uneven in tone by approaching an alarming level of farce.

It’s also impossible not to have a strong opinion about how the movie was art directed to hell. I was all for setting the story in a contemporary environment but they truly went overboard with the setting. I didn’t get, for instance, why they left Wyke’s house be an old estate which becomes modernized only on the inside instead of going all the way both outside and in. That said, it’s no wonder Wyke and his wife Maggie couldn’t have a successful existence together… who could by living in that cold, narcissistic “home”? Branagh and cinematographer Haris Zambarloukos try hard to give the movie a stylish and cinematic look and for it not to become monotonous, but the background overcomes their effort; it is simply too much.

Michael Caine, who played Tindle in the original movie, comes back to play the part that Laurence Olivier did and does so with gusto and bravado. Caine can elevate any kind of material and he is up to the task here from start to finish. Jude Law, on the other hand, is uneven, doing a fantastic job until the final act in which he lets loose and the approach fails to truly connect. It could be a problem with the material he was given or how he was directed, but it’s there and there’s no way around it.

“Aren’t you the wicked one?”

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Review

Atonement

Director

Joe Wright

Year

2007

Rating

Reviewed by

Gon Curiel a.k.a. Groucho

Review date

Tuesday, March 11, 2008

Children have the potential to be the most destructive human beings in the world. They hardly calculate the damage to feelings and otherwise, and must be supervised and guided constantly to prevent serious harm. Children are capable of cruelty and can easily be mislead into thinking it’s not actually so bad. A child who has been granted a power he or she can’t control is way perilous and that’s why education is so important. Puberty and early adolescence mean to many people a whirlpool of emotions so uncontrollable that it’s usually life-changing in the most unexpected of ways, and sometimes it’s not limited to one’s own life. A perfect example of this is in Atonement, the successful novel by Ian McEwan adapted into film by screenwriter Christopher Hampton, and it’s so perfectly understanding of this reality that it’s an utter success in that regard.

It’s exquisite to see Saoirse Ronan play Briony Tallis so appreciatively. It’s even hard to believe that such a young girl could grasp the emotions going on in her character’s 13-year-old head. Briony confuses young love and jealousy with the need to destroy and mixes them into one and the same and never once calculates the great injustice that can be provoked. She’s a young writer who takes herself seriously but she has never seen an adult consider her a brooding talent, and since her potential has been undermined by her elders she has a need to prove herself. That can’t be done through her first finished play, a tribute to her returning brother to be debuted in front of his eyes the night of his arrival. The cause of this interruption is jealousy that her crush, Robbie, the son of the manor’s landlady, and her sister, Cecilia, appear to have what she considers an unnatural relationship. This discovery is quite unfortunate for the three of them. Briony misunderstands, but I would say she understands quite well and just can’t see. She concocts a new play in her head, this time starring real people, and executes the climax by sentencing Robbie to prison and crushing her sister’s feelings. That she finds the tools to do this is only circumstantial; that she has the need to play god is what’s alarming and haunting.

The period is delicious in this section of the movie. The setting, a 1935 English manor, is perfectly realized through meticulous art direction and fine photography. The actors are nicely in tune with their time and place and orbit Saoirse like planets around the sun. Dario Marianelli’s potent tunes mix seamlessly with keys from the young girl’s typing machine to achieve an atmosphere that’s all Briony and all horror. Passion in the form of Robbie and Cecilia is achieved deliciously when seen from their eyes and appallingly when seen from Briony’s. The climax of this act is so strong that one is compelled to wonder if the rest of the film will match this power.

It does not. Once the sin has been committed, years pass without our feeling their intensity. The leap forward in time diminishes the impact of what was so carefully constructed. The Second World War has come and the three main characters are in it: Robbie as a prisoner turned unwilling soldier, and Cecilia and Briony as nurses. Robbie and Cecilia struggle to keep the flame of their romance alive despite years of separation and much suffering on both sides. Briony, now played by a much less intense Romola Garai, intends to kill the ghosts of her wrongdoing without success. Melancholy overcomes the impact of war which results in much of this segment to be boring. An outstanding continuous take of the Dunkirk evacuation is interesting on account of its cinematic triumph, much embellished by visual effects but no less effective, a triumph of cinematographer Seamus McGarvey, but it slows down the already decaying pace and hurts the story’s impact almost to a point of no return.

Let’s go back to the first act, now that I mention obstacles of pace. A couple of scenes are seen from the perspective of Briony’s and then from the real perspective, that of Cecilia and Robbie. The scenes are actually repeated to achieve this goal. I will admit that things were seen differently, especially the first time, but even while this scene was running and I was loving the movie so far, I found it off-putting. Why repeat the whole thing only to show us a different point of view? There wasn’t much difference in what was happening anyway, so I’d say it could have been done once and played from both sides to achieve a better effect. At the time I thought it wasn’t too bad, let’s go on with the show. But in the middle of the second act I confirmed that the direction and editing of these scenes was not up to the task.

What happens next is the atonement, which is explained in the third and by far least powerful act starring Vanessa Redgrave as an old Briony, now a novelist. The outcome of the revelation contained in this scene is what determines the film’s success; some love it, I hated it. To me, there was little truth and even less sense in what was explained. The impact never reached me.

There’s another capital problem in Atonement which is what really marked a difference for me, something that changed my whole appreciation. Keira Knightley and James McAvoy are likable people but they’re not riveting here. Neither is strong enough to summon a passion that survives prison, war and years. I just couldn’t believe for instance that she would give up her accommodated life and future for him; his reactions seemed much more credible but still weren’t easy to sympathize with. They’re weak leads of a love story, and even though that usually happens there isn’t much to atone for it in the rest of what this film packs. Much as the three leads, I couldn’t stop thinking about that day in 1935. And the same as old Briony, I never found anything afterwards powerful enough to create a balance.

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Review

No Country for Old Men

Director

Ethan Coen

Joel Coen

Year

2007

Rating

Reviewed by

José Ruiloba a.k.a. Morris

Review date

Monday, March 10, 2008

I hadn’t gotten myself to write about No Country for Old Men because I just didn’t know how to write about it. I’m torn; it’s the first time since I don’t know when that a movie that clicked so strongly with critics and the Academy left me cold. It’s not that I hate it as much as the fact that I didn’t get what all the fuzz was about. It’s a tricky position because you get to feel like an outsider and also like an idiot who might not be getting the obvious. But each head, each culture, is its own world; and I’m here to leave my personal point of view on things, so let’s.

Hunter Llewelyn Moss (Josh Brolin) stumbles onto a stash of money after a drug deal in the border went terribly wrong. Psychopath Anton Chigurh (Javier Bardem) wants the cash and goes after him while Sheriff Ed Tom Bell (Tommy Lee Jones) is looking for both.

Ethan and Joel Coen produced, directed, edited and wrote the movie based on the Cormac McCarthy novel of the same name. McCarthy, considered one of the most prominent living writers and a true exponent of the American culture, conceived a novel that was, for many, impossible to adapt to the big screen. But leave it to the Coens to get the job done and you’re certainly in good hands.

No Country for Old Men is filled with memorable dialogue, some memorable scenes and at least one memorable character. But the whole doesn’t add to the sum of its parts. The movie appears to be a simple cat-and-mouse game between a “good” and a “bad” guy, but it tries to reach philosophical heights with the aid of what can be considered the moral center of the story, the Sheriff, and ends up being much ado about nothing. An examination of good versus evil and a character study about the human condition in modern times is what it also tries to be and yes, what it ultimately is, but I didn’t see any deep impact or clear subtext in any of it. At the end of the day it was, for me, a cat-and-mouse game that worked only as a very suspenseful and well-made yarn but nothing more.

Much controversy surrounded the movie’s ending, with most people hating it because it is inconclusive and leaves many threads in the open. I don’t mind any of that but I hated it alright, the reason being that it ends with a couple of sleep-inducing, overlong scenes involving the Sheriff that slow things down to a point in which I only kept looking at my watch.

The good, though, comes in spades. The chase sequences between Chigurh and Moss are downright brilliant, like the best of Hitchcock. I won’t talk about their outcome, but the craftsmanship with which they were shot will leave anyone in awe… and absolutely terrified. Chigurh is an instant classic of a villain; a sick man who is surprisingly faithful to his own set of principles and morals, a fascinating example of the lows a man can reach without even noticing or even caring. That he doesn’t come off as a caricature is due to the talent of everyone who had anything to do with his creation. An unsettling encounter with the owner of a gas station is particularly unforgettable.

From a technical and artistic point of view the movie is an unmitigated success, with cinematographer Roger Deakins at the top of his form. The editing by the Coens (under the pseudonym Roderick Jaynes) is also pivotal and truly effective for the most part. Frequent collaborator Carter Burwell was brought in to create an almost inexistent score, most of the movie flows without any incidental music, a bold decision that ultimately pays off.

The cast is uniformly excellent, with Oscar-winning Javier Bardem leading the pack with a chilling, deranged and grounded performance that is difficult to shake off. Josh Brolin and Tommy Lee Jones are also good, while supporting performances from Woody Harrelson and Kelly Macdonald are solid across the board.

“Call it.”

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Review

Juno

Director

Jason Reitman

Year

2007

Rating

Reviewed by

Gon Curiel a.k.a. Groucho

Review date

Thursday, March 06, 2008

When it comes to smartasses in the movies, few people can beat Juno, a know-it-all 16-year-old-girl played by Ellen Page who thinks… no wait, knows, she’s on top of her game. Then she gets pregnant. It doesn’t just happen. It’s a significant move on her side to get laid with Bleeker (Michael Cera), the guy she’s crazy about who doesn’t look like anyone can be crazy about him. She makes him believe it’s his move, but of course it’s not; we all know that girls that age are in control of her opposite-sex contemporaries. Especially Juno, who’s queen of the castle of her taste in music, movies and boys, and does exactly what she wants and has a perfect life despite her mother’s abandonment and the fact that she’s not the most popular girl in High School. She couldn’t care less: she understands people way better than they understand themselves, like the way she knows what jock is crazy about her despite his superficial bashing, or the way she observes with certain obviousness how her best friend Leah (Olivia Thirlby) falls easily for pseudo-intellectual professors, who to the eyes of Juno and the rest of the world are completely unattractive. So when she finds out she’s pregnant she doesn’t crumble; she understands her slip and deals with it maturely. At first she decides to get rid of it even without telling her parents about it. But then she has an epiphany and goes for it, deciding to give the child away to needy would-be parents. Life-changing decisions made with complete lightness. Of course it can’t be that easy.

I remember that age. I saw myself in Ellen Page, except I was a boy. I knew exactly what the world was about and how to deal with it despite my problems adapting at school. I thought I was smarter than anyone else. I made decisions based on my best judgment never wondering if that judgment was mature enough. It was like the whole world was at my command. Through the years I realized how wrong I was concerning certain things, but still admire my teenage self for his determination despite age, location or perspective. I wish I could take chances like those I was willing to take back then without worrying so much. And even though I felt identified I could never match Juno’s self-confidence. She really doesn’t worry much about other people’s opinion as long as she knows her decision is going to make her happy. Her discovery through her experience that she might be carrying a greater load than she calculated at first is what makes watching her so fascinating.

Her situation is unique in many ways and I’m surprised that audiences weren’t alienated. For one, her parents are admirable. Despite their imperfection, her father and step-mother are completely understanding and supportive. They’re not without their lectures, but they stand by her at every step. J.K. Simmons understands that the character he’s playing is vital to the film’s development and the reaction of audiences. He’s an example to follow. Probably even more so is Allison Janney’s Bren, the step-mother. They’re both perfectly cast and it’s no surprise that such good work was done at picking them: their characters are as important as that of the girl they’re raising.

The adventure of picking suitable parents for her child is so unpredictable that it’s much of what makes Juno a good movie. She selects a couple in the Penny Saver but they’re picture perfect. Upon meeting them, it’s clear that the would-be mother is what’s usually referred to as a control freak and her husband is much more careless. They live in an American dream home where he’s the only thing that does not belong. Her decision to give the child to them relies upon two things: that the woman is so anxious to have a child and that the man is so cool. We the audience worry about her decision, wondering if that home is as perfect as it seems. But there’s much of the pregnancy left for Juno to change her mind.

What comes next is a collection of unexpected situations. Nothing much changes except the young girl we follow. In getting to know the adoptive parents better she understands what loving motherhood could be about despite what she would consider obvious flaws, and what irresponsibility looks like when you’re not a careless teen. Her decision might remain unobstructed throughout the months, but she understands that the choice to give her child to an infertile couple goes far beyond their eagerness, theirs and hers. It’s much more about taking a closer look and understanding that such decisions matter to an incalculable extent. Certainly more than a teenager can grasp without making an effort.

Jennifer Garner and Jason Bateman play this couple. Garner is brilliant though in my opinion she goes too far when in her controlling phase, but shines when she becomes loving and eager. Bateman is perfect for the role and someone I despised in several scenes. But at the same time I saw a bit of myself reflected in him: a grown man unwilling to grow, despite his letting the flow carry him too far.

There’s light comedy sprinkled all throughout the story. I expected this year’s Little Miss Sunshine (2006) but there’s very little in common. This is drama with lightness in its procedures, instead of the other way around (even though in the aforementioned film the line that divided drama and comedy was ever so thin). That there doesn’t have to be tragedy even in the most off-putting situations is a blessing. The way this is done is mesmerizing. The frank performances allow the finely written characters to smirk shyly whenever they poke fun at a serious situation. There’s a fantastic song score by Kimya Dawson so suitable in this respect that it just couldn’t be better. Bleeker’s cross-country team runs past the scenes every now and then, breaking the tension; it brings some laughs of relief, but also reminds us that no matter what happens, life goes on.

Most characters in Juno are hip to the point of exhaustion. Even their language alienated me at first. I overcame that soon enough though, thanks to the warmth achieved later on, but it was risky. That risk however is what makes Diablo Cody’s screenplay such a winner. This woman has always been a non-conformist and her Juno is exactly the same way. At first glance, the film’s story might be about choice and responsibility, but I’d say it’s about non-conformism even when defying non-conformism. It’s the struggle against conventionalism even if conventionalism is used against it. It’s the fight to do the right thing in a way that is not necessarily applauded but fulfills one’s soul. There doesn’t have to be a path to follow as long as it’s the right thing for whoever makes the choice. And in that way, the girl so brilliantly portrayed by Ellen Page is a universal being that could be in every one of us.

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Review

American Gangster

Director

Ridley Scott

Year

2007

Rating

Reviewed by

José Ruiloba a.k.a. Morris

Review date

Wednesday, March 05, 2008

American Gangster arrived in the midst of deafening hoopla. Two powerhouse performers directed by a respected director made for a winning combination, and the resulting epic certainly generated plenty of adept supporters. It is a mystery why the movie didn’t generate more traction when it came to awards; I would’ve personally chosen this over many overrated movies that season. But accolades aren’t everything, and the test of time will prove the excellence achieved in almost every respect regarding this truly American saga.

Frank Lucas (Denzel Washington) grew up under the wing of mobster Bumpy Johnson (an uncredited Clarence Williams III) and when the latter died he inherited the business and improved on it like a true visionary. By dealing straight with the heroin fabricant in Vietnam he was able to deliver the best product for the best price in his country. Success ensued and during the 70’s Frank was able to give a better life to Mama Lucas (Ruby Dee) and their extensive family, even employing some of his relatives. Meanwhile infamously honest Det. Richie Roberts (Russell Crowe) headed a new underground anti-narcotics division in Jersey which eventually led him to Lucas, while both men dealt with corrupt Det. Trupo (Josh Brolin) from Manhattan.

Ridley Scott directed from a Steve Zaillian screenplay based on the article “The Return of Superfly” by Mark Jacobson. It’s been said that liberties were taken regarding some of the specific details in the story, but the essence and the scope of what these men accomplished remained intact. To have a Black man overpower the Italian mafia in a time of so much rebellion and turmoil was as unheard-of then as it is now, but Frank was able to do it by sticking to the basics: business. He wasn’t a flamboyant man and never craved for attention, but when provoked he could be ruthless. It was an innocent yet ill-fated gift from his wife Eva (Lymari Nadal) that proved to be the start of his real problems, yet he always seemed to remain true to his own set of values and rules.

Much has been said about Det. Roberts’s story not being as interesting as that of his counterpart and I can’t deny that, but I was as enthralled by one as I was by the other. This man represented a completely different side of the coin when he set his eyes on stopping illegal affairs, but proved to be Lucas’s equal when dealing with a strong sense of morale and integrity within his own realm. His story is influenced by a bitter divorce that is there to show another side of him, one that wasn’t as pretty and that gave him shades of grey in an otherwise heroic role. The juxtaposition of these characters and their ultimate encounter at the end provides explosive and no-holds-barred entertainment.

The movie’s flavor and aroma is that of one of the best New York representations ever committed to celluloid, intriguingly enough directed by a European. Scott captures the feel of the era without seeming to try too hard; everything is just there and it clicks. He was no doubt aided by cinematographer Harris Savides and an exemplary group of artists who nailed the music, sets, costumes and make-up.

Unfortunately though, there is just something that prevents the movie from reaching greatness. It’s hard to pin down something specific, but it might’ve something to do with the after-flavor in which the movie just stays… there. The experience is exhilarating but there’s no undercurrent, no bigger truth, no revelatory insight into humanity; I know it sounds unfair to ask for any of it but it does feel like something’s lacking when all is said and done. That said, the movie’s final shot nails it.

Denzel Washington and Russell Crowe carry the movie like the real pros that they are. Both completely inhabit their roles and take us along for the ride with every detail, every inflection, every nuance… Their work is amongst the best of the year and they are aided by a strong supporting cast which includes Chiwetel Ejiofor, Josh Brolin, Carla Gugino, Cuba Gooding Jr., Armand Assante and many carefully-chosen actors which all deliver. Ruby Dee gives a small yet quite affecting performance.

“They work for me now.”

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Review

The Orphanage

Director

Juan Antonio Bayona

Year

2007

Rating

Reviewed by

Gon Curiel a.k.a. Groucho

Review date

Tuesday, March 04, 2008

There are many scary things in life but there’s an undeniable winner: to lose control of oneself. There might be all kinds of horrors all around, but if one loses oneself, one’s mind, there can be nothing around and still seem like it’s all threatening and unforgiving. When used to its best advantage, this very punishing fact of life is one of the greatest artifices of storytelling, and particularly crowd-pleasing in ghost stories. When it’s handled in ambiguity, meaning that the audience never gets to know whether it was all in the mind of a character or actually happening, it’s all the more effective.

Henry James knew this, and used it in one of his finest works, “The Turn of the Screw”, which later became a fine motion picture, The Innocents (1961). Spain’s The Orphanage is another example of this, and it borrows much from The Innocents without being, by far, a reworking of that story. Their similarity is perfectly delineated: the main characters are both women, both find themselves in the middle of a ghost story, and neither considers the possibility that they might be imagining things, and making them worse, but the audience does. Screenwriter Sergio G. Sánchez took ten years to perfect his debut script and kudos to him for the quality achieved. Lucky for him, Mexican director Guillermo del Toro pushed the project forward and it came to fruition with director Juan Antonio Bayona at the helm. The result is spectacular and one of the best films of 2007.

The story is never as simple as one could imagine. It’s not as much about an orphanage as it is about the memory of one. The story’s strength comes from the retrospective, the fact that its basis is constructed by memories that we neither lived nor see rebuilt in flashback or illusion. Though the opening scene is set in the past, it’s an innocent introduction that in fact serves better as the seed for a terrifying climax much later on, both scenes involving a perfectly candid child’s play. The film’s bulk is set in the present, starring Laura, who has purchased the large house that once was the orphanage where she lived, and intends to turn it into a home for children with disability. But sooner than she can consummate this plan, ghosts haunt her: those of her past, those of resentful souls, and those of the abandoned, the ones that weren’t as lucky as she was. It becomes a mystery whether what she’s going through is linked to her past or made up by evil minds, but when it turns out it comes from a reality that she ought to have lived but didn’t, it becomes mind-blowing.

The plot revolves Laura’s son, Simón (Roger Príncep), who seems so special he’s unreal at times. He’s adopted and infected by HIV, and suffers from schizophrenia, the same as his mother. Perhaps this winks to his inexistence, maybe he’s not real after all, but as far as we’re concerned, he’s there, and the ones who don’t exist are his imaginary friends. Or perhaps they do. It becomes thrilling enough when these “friends” start telling him truths beyond his possibilities, and Laura even finds herself in some of those. When it all becomes unbearable, Simón disappears, and Laura loses her mind looking for him, but she’s convinced that he’s still in the house. How this is possible beats even Laura’s husband, Carlos (Fernando Cayo), who gives up the search long before she does.

The revelations in Simón’s visions and Laura’s discoveries following her son’s disappearance are way haunting. They concern the history of the house that Laura left and her friends didn’t, and frankly they’re sort of farfetched and could be the concoctions of a woman who has felt guilty her entire life for being much luckier than her peers. Desperate, Laura looks for help in a psychic electrifyingly played by Geraldine Chaplin. This woman provides answers, or perhaps Laura wants them to be answers and makes them so. If fantasy has overcome reality, Laura has a wild imagination, but finds a way to atone the unfairness of which she was unwilling executor. In a way, the story allows Laura to go back into her past, suffer as much as she imagines her friends to have suffered, and make it up to them. The implications of this being imaginary go from innocent to unbearably cruel, and could go as far as involving murder and suicide, so I’d rather think of it as a bad dream that somehow ends up in a good morning. If it is as it seems, there’s much cruelty involved anyhow, so it’s hard to tell which would be preferable.

Whichever the case, it’s much more complicated in analysis than in presentation. Despite the fact that it’s not all obvious, few people will be confused and most will be pleased and terrified after their first viewing of The Orphanage. As for the next viewings, I’m predicting they’ll be far scarier, because the horror of this film is mostly psychological and scarcely palpable. It plays with the viewer’s perceptions and creates suspense from expectation rather than from chills. A couple of scenes betray this principle and become too graphic, but those cheap moments are easy to forget. The long shots with nothing but the wind going on are far more effective and unforgettable. Director Bayona plays with pace (editing by Elena Ruiz), photography (by Óscar Faura) and music (by Fernando Velázquez) to create what others do with millions of dollars of visual effects thrown down the toilet because neither a toddler nor an old man with heart problems suffer any risk of being scared. The Orphanage adds more from less. In that sense, it’s perfect filmmaking.

Much weight is put upon the shoulders of the star, Belén Rueda. We had seen her in The Sea Inside (2004) and here’s an even better example of her screen presence and bravura. I never cared whether her character was suffering from schizophrenia or real haunting, I wanted her to be all right. She took me by the hand and dragged me around her gargantuan home to unveil a mystery that could have been in both our minds. And in the end, she brought me to tears. It was the script, of course, the direction, the editing and the music. But overall, it was her.

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Review

For Your Consideration

Director

Christopher Guest

Year

2006

Rating

Reviewed by

José Ruiloba a.k.a. Morris

Review date

Monday, March 03, 2008

Now that the insanity of awards season has come to an end it’s the perfect time to review a movie I only recently had the chance to see which is, incidentally, about the insanity of awards seasons. Plenty of spoofs have been made about the entertainment industry, although it’s rare when one hits the mark and even more so if it’s funny or incisive enough for people who don’t work inside it. For Your Consideration is definitely hit-and-miss, but it’s worth a look.

Actress Marilyn Hack (Catherine O’Hara) is shooting a movie called “Home for Purim” with Callie Webb (Parker Posey) and Victor Allan Miller (Harry Shearer), and directed by Jay Berman (Christopher Guest). One day she is told by a crew member that he read in a website that her performance had Oscar potential, a comment that rocks her world. Meanwhile the movie goes through the usual process of marketing, selling and promoting, something for which she is more than willing to collaborate.

Christopher Guest directed from his own screenplay which he co-wrote with Eugene Levy. These people know their stuff, they know what they’re talking about and their preys are fairly easy targets. That’s why it somehow feels disappointing that the collaborative process (in which the actors also improvised a lot of their lines) is not as biting as it could’ve been. There are also instances in which the satire borders on the ridiculous, a fine line that such a genre should not cross because it loses credibility within its own realm.

The movie works at its best when dealing with Marilyn and how she behaves after she finds out she could receive an Oscar nomination. She is filled with insecurities and that makes her appearance in a talk show late in the movie a moment I won’t ever forget; so spot-on and hilarious. But then the movie cuts to scenes that spoof TV news shows and they are not as funny as they should because they go way over-the-top (the guy’s haircut is so out-of-reality that it throws you out). Scenes with the marketing people and the studio heads are excellent; those with the producer or writers are not so much. The movie has very few laugh-out-loud moments, quite a bit of amusing scenes and plenty of jokes that bomb as well. It’s got it all.

All of the director’s usual guests (no pun intended) are on for this ride. Catherine O’Hara is especially good as the aging actress who thinks she has a second chance to shine. Parker Posey, Harry Shearer, Sandra Oh, Bob Babalan, Ricky Gervais and many others are spot-on, while Jane Lynch, Fred Willard, Jennifer Coolidge do not fare as well.

“What if we do a, uh, a different holiday around the table, Easter, and just focus on the rabbit?”

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