Tuesday, March 04, 2008

January and February Wrap

Talk about a change of pace.

After a staggering 2007, which saw some monstrous personal highs in regards to wall-to-wall movie-going, January saw me hitting some deep deep water. The 2007 pace (about 8 movies per week) shifted steeply down to a little more than 3 movies a week in the New Year. And no surprise - priorities...shifted. I determined in late December that 2008 was going to be the year for reading (remember that?) and frankly, the start of the year is always a little fallow at the movie theare. So the fact that I finished two books in January and watched only 15 movies isn't out of whack with what was planned or expected. Nevertheless, looking back at the first two months of the year, I'm amused by how little I watched and posted.

This then is the wrap-up for Jan and Feb, or a few words about the movies that didn't get properly posted in the last 9 weeks:


In Bruges (2008) ~ Without question, the first best film of 2008. In Bruges is jammed full of Christmas presents for people that love movies: first among them, Martin McDonogh's sharp dialogue, which feels jagged and fresh, while never seeming strained or showy. In fact, it's no surprise to read that McDonogh has a background in theatre as his very particular language emphasizes character quibbles over action and continuously gets hung up in the most excellent eddies of conversation. The dialogue here should offend lots of people (who among you isn't ready to laugh at a racist dwarf?), but for a black-hearted comedy such as this, the tone is perfect in every scene. At the center and rewarded with the most treacherous lines is Colin Farrell whose performance is, as far as I've seen, career-best. This is a Colin Farrell that I'd watch again and again: funny and dark, layered and endearingly devilish. So much good stuff to be found here. Truly recommended.

The Brave One (2007) ~ Kind of terrible. In an effort to demonstrate her anguish and conflict in becoming a vigilante, Jodie Foster instead gives the most retched and unsympathetic lead performance that I can remember. The film is equally ugly, shot as it is through mossy and muddy filters with the sort of cinematic subtlety you'd expect from a first-year film student (glaring example #1: was it necessary to "tilt" the camera on its axis everytime Foster felt distress; isn't this the most head-slamming (and obvious) way to communicate this sort of anxiety?) A clumsy script overstuffed with awkward coincidences (maybe New York is smaller than I imagined?) and the worst sin for a sleezy revenge thriller: the movie is unbearably boring. Ugh.

The Savages (2007) ~ So it appears that I must have walked into the wrong movie. Expecting a sharply observed, well-paced, character-driven comedy (see also: Wonder Boys, Sideways), I found myself instead watching a slow-moving character drama about committing a sick father to an old folks home. No problem, I'm sure, if that's what you're wanting (plenty of critics seem to love this film) but Fox Searchlight did a fairly bang-up job of convincing me I was seeing something entirely different. So it is that I left the theatre disappointed that the movie wasn't funnier and even more disappointed that it was actually a bit of a downer. I'm usually a lot more flexible than this in my movie-going, but in this instance, I was really looking forward to The Savages that I saw advertised. Which wasn't this.

Lust, Caution (2007) ~ A solid 100-minute period-romance and spy-film stretched to 2:40 with all the lush particular details and pregnant pauses you might expect to pad that extra hour. I understand that the story has a greater meaning and impact for Eastern audiences, but as a Western viewer, it felt relatively lean and kinda straightforward. The ending in particular was sort of frustrating for reasons that I won't spoil here; however performances by the leads were exceptional (and also remarkably brave). Period details of occupied Shanghai were stunning, but the whole package seemed a little dull and arthouse.


Safety Last (1923) ~ My first Harold Lloyd film and I'm both impressed and underwhelmed at the same time. Lloyd's style doesn't quite compete with the timeless class of Chaplin and Keaton, but on its own merits, it's still funny and clever. Lloyd seems to love the comedy of misdirection, and it's a tremendous compliment to his writing that there's some fresh angles to be found in the misunderstandings here even for a modern viewer (with decades of sitcoms hijinks behind him). The high-point of the film, of course, is the skyscraper climb and famous clock-face sequence which is where this casual comedy becomes compulsively watchable. Outside of that, it's a fair, if unexciting silent comedy.

Grave of the Fireflies (1988) ~ Frankly, this might be as good as animation gets. The story of two orphans in battle-torn Japan is devastating, compounded by the childlike simplicity (and adult understanding) of everything that happens: a child's story told through a child's view of the world but ultimately intended for adults to watch. The tragedy creeps up, which makes it all the more sinister, and there is tremendous sadness and loss to every frame. (Sounds like fun, I know.) The animation seems direct and simple but it's remarkable how much work has gone into the natural performances of the main characters (and their specific child-like appearances). To be honest, it's one of the rare and remarkable movies that I find tremendously painful to watch and as a result, not one that I can rewatch often. But still such a spectacular film.

Rush Hour 3 ~ Simply. Terrible. Were the first two movies this passively racist?

Bridge On the River Kwai (1957) ~ Jolly good, as thoses Brits might say. David Lean's second-choice epic surprised me in a good number of big ways. First, it was much more of an adventure film than I was honestly expecting with a second half that bristles with excitement and genuine tension. The last 15 minutes are unexpectedly suspenseful and wracked with the sort of character crisis that makes for...well, a Classic Movie. In fact, I can see all of the elements that make this a perennial AFI classic and can understand the reason that people are still actively watching it 50+ years later. Even better, as a child of the late-70's and the Lucas/Spielberg blockbusters in particular, there's a few hidden jewels: for example, is it wrong that the jungle sequenced reminded me so much of Raiders. Is it OK to enjoy the Alec Guiness performance on two levels: both as a masterful on-screen role (complete with a knock-down speech in the last act) and as an early Obi-Wan performance. I'm sorry. I am what I am.

Cloverfield (2008) ~ And the real monster here is the hype. Therein lies the problem: the movie is built on a terrific promise that can never possibly be delivered, least of all by the CG monster. I came into this film on the balls of my feet, excited about the concept and enormously open to the "ride". But ultimately that's all there is to Cloverfield. While it's already been described in countless reviews as the movie-theatre equivalent of a theme-park ride, the description couldn't be more accurate. The movie unrolls with the same depth, plot and structure as any Universal Studios backlot rollercoaster with jumps and frights timed to activate as you roll past. Which makes the cinema experience kind of empty.

Also, shaky-cam was a big, big problem for me. I'm typically pretty sturdy when it comes to handheld camera work and movies like Blair Witch and Bourne didn't cause me any problems. This movie did. So it is that at the end of the "ride", I had to wonder - I mean, seriously wonder - if my inability to simply release and enjoy Cloverfield was a sign of holy-crap!...middle-age. After all, roller-coasters are a young man's past-time and while I might not be "old" yet, it seems unavoidable that there is a generation gap within this film. I wonder what the 16-year-old Jer might have made of this film and I have to think that he would have adored it.


Definitely, Maybe (2008) ~ It might sound like faint praise, but I can't seem to come up with a better description for Definitely, Maybe than enormously "cute". In fact, "cute" in bulk-shopper-at-Costco quantities: the kid is cute, the character introductions are cute, the performances are cute and of course, the ending is endlessly cute. So if there's anything to distinguish Definitely, Maybe from a million other precious chick flicks and cute Valentines movies (and there is!), it's that the story is told in a surprisingly unique and compelling way.

The central "mystery" of the story (the identity of the Abigail Breslin's mom in the story of how her father met her mother) is actually quite a lot of fun and keeps the story moving with momentum that it otherwise might not have had. To be frank, the film does such a good job of setting up all the "women" that it's not immediately clear who the mom is going to be or how the film is going to find a satisfactory ending (face it...the ending requires at the very least that there be 2 losers.) I genuinely think that Ryan Reynolds has the leading man chops to carry this kind of movie and surrounding him with leading ladies like Rachel Weisz, Isla Fisher and Elizabeth Banks makes the whole package kind of an easy sit. For a movie not really designed for someone like me, I really enjoyed it.

Also worth celebrating: Kevin Kline's scene-stealing cameo which should now throw him into rigorous competition with Bill Murray for all crusty, white-haired and bearded supporting roles in the future. Nice!

My Best Fiend (1997) ~ The great joy of January was finally getting my hands on a copy of the Herzog/Kinski box from Anchor Bay, and this was the first disc I queued up. While Herzog's documentary on his leading man might seem the perfect post-script for a Herzog/Kinski marathon, it also works very well as prologue. The relationship between the two men is one of the great gifts of cinema and it's a real delight to watch Kinski chewing up sets as Herzog waxs nostalgic about working with his leading monster. And there's equal parts madness and celebration to be found in this excellent documentary which kicked off a mini-run of Herzog films for me. [Random musing: I can't help but wonder what the alternative movie universe is like, where Kinski accepts Spielberg's invitation to play one of the heavies in Raiders...hmmm...]

Woyzeck (1979) ~ And after 11 Herzog films, I finally found one that didn't light me up within minutes of watching it. Dry and artful, Woyzeck feels exactly like what it is: an arthouse adaptation of a existential German theatre play. Kinski is brilliant, as good as he's every been in anything, but the film is so stiff and literate that it feels more like an exercise than an entertainment.

Still, regardless of how difficult it is to crack the shell on this film, there's still That Murder. I bristled in the final minutes of the film as the act of violence that defines the second half of the film is described as "beautiful"; it's the very definition of ironic. Regardless, there's no question that the film goes to an unusually sensational place in those final minutes and delivers a murder that is absolutely heart-stopping in its authenticity. Shot at a crazy-slow speed so that every blow seems to last an eternity (flies can be seen skirting in and out of the shot), the terrible sequence and the inhuman transformation of Kinski's face are what ultimately make Woyzeck a movie worth its place in the Herzog pantheon. It's really tough to recommend a movie based on a sequence of unbearable brutality, but there it is: Kinski's acting in this sequence makes him a bigger monster than most genuine horror movie icons. Forget Jason and Freddy: the transformation in Kinski's eyes as he goes from victim to victimizer is the thing of real nightmares.

Also, as a big bonus, after finally watching Woyzeck unfold, I now have a new way to appreciate the already immensely appreciable Blood Money record by Tom Waits. Written for a stage play of Woyzeck, Waits songs are fascinating but somewhat cryptic for someone not familiar with the play. No more.

Martian Child (2007) ~ As the movie started, I turned to T. and told her to expect we'd be throwing around the word "cute" before the movie was over. This, given the DVD cover, synopsis and what little I'd heard about this mostly forgotten Cusack film. Still, John Cusack is John Cusack and if you're a fan, you're a fan. And I'm a fan. I haven't seen a John Cusack movie yet that I haven't at least marginally enjoyed (I skipped the unholy trio of American Sweethearts, Must Love Dogs and Serendipity but quite liked Ice Harvest). So this seemed like a harmless enough Saturday night.

The thing about the movie is that it mostly works and works well when it does. The relationship between Cusack and the boy he adopts in the film is genuine and convincing, heartbreaking at just the right turns. There's a sincerity (Cusack in particular) to everything that passes between them that won me over and had me rooting for them to overcome their problems. When played smart and subtle in that opening hour, the film is quite good. Bobby Coleman is also a remarkable catch for the filmmakers, handling a complex child role with surprising maturity and without pulling out any Cute Kid ammunition. I suspect that if this film had a larger profile, a lot of praise would have been rained on this young actor.

The problem then lies in the last 30 minutes of the film when the decidedly low-key and sweet character story invites its Hollywood friends to come over and play. There's a book launch sequence near the end of the film that is groaningly awful as the writers open the toolbox and start hitting everyone in the theatre on the head with big heavy plot-hammers. Beyond that, the drama overreaches its climax by creating "peril" that feels as tagged-on and out of place as Annie pursued and trapped on the drawbridge. Those final minutes almost entirely erase the good will of everything in the first half.

Persepolis (2007) ~ Endlessly charming and really just easy to watch, Persopolis surprised me by ringing far more emotion out of its simple animation style than I might have expected. The clean black and white aesthetics of the film create a bit of a barrier in the opening minutes of the movie, but once the story begins to roll, it's virtually impossible not to appreciate the imaginatic designs and storytelling. For her part, Marji is a great lead, a rich character and an excellent gateway into the Iranian politics of the early 1980's. Tremendously enjoyable even if it isn't quite as great as the year-end hype might have suggested.

Re-Animator (1985) ~ Sweet delicious 80's gore. Here's a minor cult classic that was brand-new to me and feels very much like a movie that would have been a permanent fixture in my basement VHS collection back in the day. The horror walks a fine line between cheeky and trashy, but Jeffrey Combs is a great center to the movie as the creepy but ultimately principled doctor. There's no real scares to be found here, but like its low budget cousin (Evil Dead II), Re-Animator is simply a really great time. The Anchor Bay DVD is spectacular to watch, with gorgeous detail and colours that pop off the screen: an experience I'm certain I wouldn't have had on VHS 10 or 15 years ago.

In the Shadow of the Moon (2007) ~ I was genuinely surprised at how much I was blown over by this doc. The space program is hardly new subject matter for anyone (least of all producer Ron Howard), however I don't think I've ever seen it told quite like this. As a collection of first-person interviews with the veterans of the Apollo missions, this is an invaluable document, but more decidely, it's also a wonderful collection of first-hand stories and recollections of the trip to space and the moon by the only people on the planet who have ever had the experience. Just imagine that for a moment. And in that context, there's no limit to the amount of authentic "wonder" in this film: every story and every scrap of archived NASA footage is awesome and drives home the monstrous feat of the Apollo missions. Like most people, the achievements of the space program in 1969 are somewhat yesterday and been-there done-that, but hearing the details from the people at the center of history creates a new experience that comes as close as it must have been to experience the first trip to the moon. Surprisingly emotional also.

Things We Lost in the Fire (2007) ~ Here I was expecting a film that would rest entirely on Benicio Del Toro's shoulders. I've never been much of a Halle Berry fan so the expectation was that a marvelous Del Toro performance would balance the Berry black-hole-of-talent and create a sort of neutral proposition. However, as the film progressed, I found that my stand-offish attitude was more and more weakened until I was enjoying Berry's role almost - ALMOST - as much as Del Toro. But I'm getting ahead of myself because Del Toro's performance is quite easily one of my favourite of 2007 - drastically overlooked (almost as overlooked as the film itself). Benicio Del Toro did something remarkable in his performance of a man kicking a drug problem by converting me into a life-time fan. Seriously. He's now at the top of The List, someone I'll be ready to watch and enjoy even in the most trashy projects. As for the rest of the movie, Things We Lost in the Fire is an underrated drama that should have gotten far more print and conversation when it came out: it's terribly sad in stretches and surprisingly genuine throughout. In fact, the unconditional friendship at the heart of the film between Del Toro and David Duchovny is done so well that I was 100% on-board for everything that followed - a good sign as the relationship is the heart and soul of the film. Equally natural was the family dynamic between Berry and Duchovny and in particular, the children (excellent and mature performances here). A great late discovery and movie that deserves more attention if only for Del Toro's gob-smacking performance.

Dan in Real Life (2007) ~ The very definition of a bad airplane movie. Cobbled together with all of the invention of a tired sit-com, I actually couldn't believe the set-up for the film was this contrived and obvious. Steve Carrell, normally funny without even breaking a sweat, feels like he's forcing things as he struggles to play another variation on the ruffled loser-dad. Once the clumsy plot mechanics were in motion and the sad-sack plot was fully engaged, I found myself tuning out. By the time the character "misunderstandings" and "hijinks' began to roll at full-speed, I simply couldn't handle it anymore. I regret that I couldn't finish the movie. Did I mention I was on an airplane?

Spies Like Us (19850 ~ Oh boy, how much do I miss the Chevy Chase of the early 1980's? And Spies Like Us, along with ¡Three Amigos!, is a minor classic of the sort of loose and easy SNL-inspired comedies that were a staple of adolescence. I'm not sure how much there is to enjoy here now that isn't necessarily soaked in nostalgia, but it doesn't matter one bit. This is still a fantastic film. Also notable as the only on-screen role of Joel Coen (he of the Coen Brothers); along with appearances by Sam Raimi, Ray Harryhausen and Terry Gilliam. Great stuff jammed with iconic Chevy Chase/Dan Aykroyd memories.
Zapped! (1982) ~ Speaking of nostalgia, any day with an early 80's sex-comedy starring Scott Baio and Willie Aames is an OK day by me. I can't believe how much of this movie came back to me as I watched it...how many times I must have watched it as a kid??

Sunshine (2007) ~ For a film that hangs so much of its impact on visual spectacle, it's unfortunate that I didn't get to see this under the most ideal circumstances. Upconverted from a hotel pay-per-view broadcast to an HD screen in the wrong format (ugh), I think most of the effects and eye candy were lost on me as I struggled to simply make out actors from the distorted features and flattened heads. Even still, there was plenty to enjoy in Sunshine as it's always a pleasure to find a sci-fi film that is precisely that: all about the science and aw-gee technical designs (see also: 2001, though this is hardly that transcendent). For the first half, when the science and "the mission" are at the center of the film, the movie is frightfully good; however Sunshine strays a little from this winning formula in the final act when horror/thriller elements begin to creep up. Outside of this unfortunate distraction, the spine of the film is surprisingly strong and peppered with good performances throughout. I'm sure I'd be hailing the film a lot more if I could have been able to marvel at Boyle's slow-moving spaceships and imaginative compositions. I'll be checking this out on a clean DVD one day soon to remedy the problem...