Cinema Directives

Original Scores - A Return to Classicism

2012-01-23T12:34:00.000-08:00

I've been a huge fan of movie music for more than 40 years, as my first experiences were with the marvelous scores of Jerry Goldsmith; his music for Patton was the first great original score I remember when I saw this film in theaters in 1970 when I was 14 years of age. Goldsmith was following in the footsteps of classically-oriented composers before him who wrote outstanding scores for Hollywood films of the 1930, '40', '50s and '60s; the composers included Max Steiner, Franz Waxman, Miklos Rosza, Bernard Herrmann and Alex North to name only a few.

Goldsmith, along with John Williams and Ennio Morricone in Italy carried on the glories of the film score written for a full symphony and it has been those three without question that have been the finest composers in Hollywood since the mid-1960s. Goldsmith, who composed such memorable scores as Chinatown, The Wind and the Lion, Poltergeist and L.A. Confidential, passed away in 2004, while Williams, who will turn 80 years old in February, is still composing; his body of work, for films such as Star Wars, Superman, Schindler's List and dozens of others is known to every film fan. Morricone, truly one of the most gifted composers in film history, has delighted film goers with his beautifully melodic themes to such films as Days of Heaven, The Mission and Cinema Paradiso, to name only a few.

There have been others who have treated us with memorably melodic scores over the past few decades; Randy Newman's score for The Natural stands out, while Rachel Portman (Emma, Chocolat), Dario Marianelli (Atonement, Jane Eyre) and Michael Giacchino (Ratatouille, Up) have also turned in some lovely compositions in recent years.

Yet more and more, we are experiencing a shift away from lush, romantic scores toward those dominated by electronics. Last year when the score for The Social Network composed by Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross won the Academy Award as the year's best, it marked a seismic shift in film music; electronic scores had been with us for years, but here was a minimal work that was accepted as one of high quality, a decision that I completely disagreed with, given the unremarkable nature of this work.

I have nothing against electronic scores per se; indeed Goldsmith started experimenting with electronics to add another sound to his work back in the 1960s and some of his best work such as Hoosiers and Gremlins are famous for their use of synthesizers. But Goldsmith utilized electronics in conjunction with the full sound of a symphony; he did not write any full electronic scores, as with Reznor and Ross. Their scores, while moderately effective (their latest score for The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo is a better opus than The Social Network in my opinion, although it still isn't what I'd call an accomplished work), don't stand well on their own. While some of the electronic music that Reznor and Ross - as well as a few others such as Jonny Greenwood (I did enjoy his music for There Will Be Blood) - works well for a few moments in these films, they are not scores that can stand alone. One can't even compare listening to the score for The Social Network with the great symphonic scores of Goldsmith, Williams, Morricone and their counterparts.

So while electronic scores are here to stay, I was thrilled to hear so many classic symphonic scores for the cinema of 2011. Here are the three finest from this past year:

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part Two - composer Alexandre Desplat
French composer Desplat has risen to the top of the ranks among film scorers in a very short time, as his first major work Syriana is from 2005. His score for last year's The Ghost Writer was superb, its edgy strings reminiscent of Herrmann's work; overall the score had a drive that added to the unease felt by the characters in this film.

Desplat wrote a fine score for Deathly Hallows: Part One in 2009, but he has outdone himself for Part Two, composing his finest film score to date. He was given the challenging assignment of composing scores for a franchise that had been a success for John Williams, especially with his "Hedwig's Theme", written for Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone back in 2001. Undaunted, Desplat went ahead and composed a score for Deathly Hallows: Part Two that recalls the musical heritage of these films, while at the same time, taking it in a new direction.

Desplat wrote two new themes for this film, "Lily's Theme", a lovely piece with Celtic overtones and a cue called "Statues", one of his prettiest themes melodically. This is a score with lush arrangements for strings and woodwinds, while other instruments such as celesta, harp and trumpet and used in memorable passages. Desplat's cue, "The Resurrection Stone" (#19 on the soundtrack album), is a haunting variation of "Lily's Theme'; this quiet, highly moving and romantic piece features a spare string arrangement that alternates with piano for the theme, backed by a choral section with a lovely solo performance. This works beautifully in the film and on its own and is the loveliest piece of film music I heard in 2011. This is a great score!

Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy - composer Alberto Iglesias
The main job of a composer when writing a film score is to heighten the emotions of what we are witnessing on the screen. Goldsmith (and others) said that in so many words and it's a lesson well-learned by Iglesias for this marvelously crafted spy thriller. His theme "George Smiley" (#1 on the soundtrack album), heard under the main titles, is a quiet, haunting theme that successfully sets the tone for this drama; featuring muted trumpet, oboe, strings and piano, this is a moody cue that gets under your skin. This cue ends as quietly as begins, as the mystery of this film begins to unravel. This is a film score that is subdued, never announcing itself - again, this is music that serves the film and does so marvelously. Iglesias has been a solid composer for several years now; I throughly enjoyed his romantic score for The Constant Gardener (2005) as well as his quietly effective music for The Kite Runner (2007). Iglesias also composed a lovely classical piece for string quartet this year for The Skin I Live In and continues his maturation as a composer with this work.

War Horse - composer John Williams
How wonderful to have John Williams back composing for films again after a three year hiatus. In fact, the maestro graced filmgoers with two new scores this year, this one as well as his highly entertaining and imaginative work for The Advenutes of TinTin (his quirky theme for the wild opening sequence is simply wonderful).

For War Horse, Williams gives us a grand score reminiscent of his "large" compositions of the past. What he does so well is to write memorable themes for any moment in a film, be it a small personal one or one that's more majestic in nature. Compare two cues for War Horse, first the one entitled Dartmoor, 1912 (#1 on the soundtrack album). This lovely Celtic-influenced theme, featuring strings, woodwinds and brass, starts quietly and then builds in texture, as Williams paints the lyric qualities of the English countryside setting in the early 20th century. The cue "Homecoming" (#16 on the soundtrack album) gives us another Celtic theme performed by flutes and strings that is soon followed by a lilting Irish jig, itself eventually followed a heart-wrenchingly beautiful theme for strings that celebrates the reunion of Joey the horse with his young owner Albert as well as the final welcome back on the farm for these two. This section of the score is uplifting and captures the love that Albert has for Joey and that he has for his family and land. This theme made the three year wait for Williams's return to composing for the cinema worth the wait.

There are three other scores from 2011 I want to comment on, as I thought they were also among the finest of the year. The first is the score for Hugo, composed by Howard Shore. Twice an Oscar winner for his scores for the Lord of the Rings trilogy, Shore has composed a lovely, lilting score for Hugo that befits the fantasy and childlike wonder of this film. This is a multi-layered score written for a variety of instruments, including piano and strings and of course, accordion, which seems to be a prerequisite for a film set in France. However, the accordion passages are not cliché-ridden, but gentle and lyrical. There are also some darker passages in this score as well, especially in the track labeled as "Purpose" (#12 on the soundtrack album). This is a wonderful score with a light touch that fits this film like a glove and listening to it on its own instantly takes you back to the particular scenes in the film. Well done, Howard!

Secondly, I want to briefly discuss the wonderful work of Mychael Danna for Moneyball. This is a subtle score, one that you don't notice right away, but one that slowly creeps up on you. Written primarily for strings, there is a great amount of dissonance in the music; as this is a more reflective look on baseball and not the usual pennant-winning-heroics type of movie, this is perfect. There are some electronics utilized in this score, but their use is spare and they are only small ingredients in this work. Rather this is more of a classically oriented, string quartet type of score - one that adds a layer of depth to this film (track #17, entitled "Game 5" is a brilliant example of the composer creating tension through dissonance in the strings - it is heard in the film as we see a pop fly land in an infielder's glove that suddenly ends a baseball season - it's a small gem of a piece).

Finally, kudos to Ludovic Bource for his charming score for The Artist. Of all the films made in 2011, this was arguably the film that most required fitting musical accompaniment and Bource accomplished that very well. I absolutely love his theme "George Valentin" (#3 on the soundtrack), a bouncy, jazzy cue written for piano, xylopohone, clarinet and strings with light percussion that perfectly recalls the essence of Charlie Chaplin's work from the 1920s. Yet this is not a rip-off of Chaplin's music, rather it is a complex set of compositions that perfectly fit the mood of this enchanting film. I have seen many silent films with specially composed scores that were not only wall-to-wall music, but ones that announced themselves and took away from the visuals on the screen. So Bource's score is the best of both worlds, a lengthy score (as needed for a silent film) that perfectly fits the film and one that has much more creativity and subtlety than most scores written for silent films (regardless of being composed for the film's premiere in the '20s or commissioned years later).

So there you have it- 2011 was a year that lovers of classically-oriented film scores should treasure. Let's hope that we can look forward to many more scores such as these in 2012 and coming years.

P.S. Given that Alexandre Desplat had a remarkably busy year in 2011, scoring five different films (The Tree of Life and Carnage were among other works), this is a promising sign that classic scores are returning.

P.P.S The Academy Award nominations will be announced on Tuesday and it seems certain that three of the nominations will go to The Artist, War Horse and Hugo, all well-deserved. That leaves two more nominations and chances are that John Williams will receive one of those for his score for TinTin, which wouldn't bother me. I'm also guessing that as Reznor and Ross won the Oscar last year, they'll get another nomination this time around for Dragon Tattoo. Personally, I hope not, but that's probably how it will go.

That means that the scores for Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy and Moneyball would lose out on a nomination, which would be a shame, especially for Potter, as I believe it was the finest score from 2011. Maybe with this category (as well as a few others such as cinematography and editing), there should be a floating number of nominations - from five to ten - as with the Best Picture category. Back in 1945, there were 21 original dramatic scores nominated for an Academy Award; that's probably too many, but why only five? Yes, only one can win each year, but why limit this to five choices? Why not recognize excellence when it's present? For some of these composers, the nomination is an award in itself.

P.P.S. In case you think I am being a bit tough on the work of Reznor and Ross, wait until you read this review at the filmtracks.com site. This critic really can't stand their work!

Best Films of 2011 (plus two for 2012)

2012-01-18T17:12:00.000-08:00

Assembling a list of the Top Ten Films of the Year was a delight this time around, as 2011 was a marvelous year at the movies. A quick glimpse of the films that I finally decided on will tell you a great deal about the variety and quality of cinema 2011-wise.

At first I was going to simply list the films in alphabetical order, but given that people want to know the opinions of various writers and critics as to exactly what their number one film is, I will be listing the films in order. Still, it seems a bit silly to talk about the difference between my sixth and seventh favorite film of the year. But, hey... there's no perfect method here, so this is what I'll go with in this post.

Before I list my Top 10 of 2011, I do want to mention two films that I saw at the Chicago International Film Festival back in October that would have made my list if they had been given a normal theatrical release. They are Once Upon a Time in Anatolia, directed by Nuri Bilge Ceylan of Turkey and Miss Bala, directed by Mexican filmmaker Gerardo Naranjo. The former is a haunting study of a murder investigation that takes place over the course of one evening and part of the next day. It's brilliantly directed and photographed and I think it is a masterwork.

Miss Bala is a damning look at the drug wars that are currently tearing apart families in Mexico. Narnajo gives us a story of a young woman who only wants to compete in a local beauty pageant, but is kidnapped and forced to work with a drug trafficking gang. It's first-rate entertainment and an argument against the insanity of this criminal behavior and it's a memorable film.

However, since both Miss Bala and Once Upon a Time in Anatolia are technically going to be considered as 2012 films, I will have to wait until next year's list. I am quite confident both will be on that list in one year's time.

So on to the list... The Best Films of 2011

1) Melancholia (Director, Lars Von Trier) - The apocalypse, at least according to Von Trier. This is a film that challenges you and stays with you for a long time. How would we react if we knew that the world would end in a matter of hours, especially if we knew the violent manner in which it would happen? The prologue, set to the strains of the Wagner's overture to Tristan und Isolde, is a stunning sequence, filled with unsettling images, while the ending is both memorable and awe-inspiring. Kirsten Dunst gives a beautiful, multi-layered performance as the woman who maintains a calm amidst the madness surrounding her.

2) Hugo (Martin Scorsese) - Who would have thought that the director of Raging Bull and Taxi Driver would have had this enchanting film inside of him? This is both a dazzling visual display as well as a fond memory of early cinema; it's also a call from Scorsese for film preservation. All of the director's colleagues perform brilliantly in this fantasy aimed at children and adults; especially noteworthy are the production design from Dante Ferretti, the costumes of Sandy Powell, the photography of Robert Richardson and the editing of Thelma Schoonmaker. Scorsese clearly had the time of his life making this film and it shows in his accomplished, effortless direction.

3) Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy (Tomas Alfredson) - A marvelous adaptation of John Le Carré's classic spy novel set in the Cold War era of 1974, this movie looks like it could have been made in 1974, given the emphasis on old-fashioned story telling. The excellent script along with Alfredson's classical direction combine to give the viewer a treat for the ears and eyes. Beautiful performances by the entire ensemble, especially from Toby Jones and Tom Hardy, while Gary Oldman is quietly brilliant in the lead role of Smiley. It's been some time since we've seen a spy film this good.

4) Moneyball (Bennett Miller) - I liked this film very much the first time I saw it; I loved it the second time around. Based on Michael Lewis' book about Oakland A's general manager Billy Beane's attempt to radically change how a major league baseball team would be assembled, the movie was a nice balance between the actual games of the A's 2002 season along with Beane's inner doubts. Aaron Sorkin and Steven Zaillian wrote a brilliant adapted screenplay, finding a human story amidst the mountain of baseball statistics. Brad Pitt turned in his most complete performance to date and Jonah Hill as Beane's assistant was charismatic and quite funny.

5) Into the Abyss (Werner Herzog) - Herzog's chilling look at the effects of a triple murder on several individuals, from the families and friends of the victims to the killers themselves. Herzog gracefully conducts interviews just off camera, asking each person a few questions about their feelings, all the time respecting their viewpoints. Herzog himself is against the death penalty, but this is not a film that rides this argument, rather it gives us great insight into the human condition, especially when it involves grief. At times moving, at times unsettling, but always absorbing.

6) We Need to Talk About Kevin (Lynne Ramsay) - A beautiful film about an ugly subject- mass murder. Kevin is the son of Eva and Franklin; the young boy seems to hate his mother, while greatly admiring his father. Eva, brilliantly portrayed by Tilda Swinton with great inner strength and fierce pride, struggles with her son's behavior, yet still embraces him after his horrific deed. Ramsay is a director fascinated with the power of images; this along with her approach of presenting this story as a puzzle that moves back and forth in time makes this an unforgettable experience.

7) The Kid with a Bike (Jean-Pierre and Luc Dardenne) - A sometimes serious, sometimes enchanting film about an 11-year old by who has been abandoned by his father and whose bike has been sold. Mad at the world, he refuses all attempts at love and friendship until a local hairdresser in her 30s agrees to take him in on weekends, altering both his and her perspective on life. This is one of the most mature studies of teen-age troubles that I have ever seen. Both leads- Thomas Doret as the young boy and Cécile de France as the hairdresser - are naturally gifted performers and it's the ease with their characters that help this film become the charmer it truly is.

8) The Artist (Michel Hazanavicius) - A black-and-white silent film in 2011? Who would ever think this would be a success? Well it's been an unmitigated one, thanks to the vision of Hazanavicius who gives us a film that respects audiences' love for both silent films and for human stories. This is funny, sweet and charming all rolled into one, yet it has its moments of pathos as well. Great performance by Jean Dujardin as George Valentin, the silent film star and a fine score by Ludovic Bource that recalls Chaplin's early work.

9) Le Havre (Ari Kaurismaki) - A film about the simple dignity of the everyday man, as Kaurismaki gives us a story of a humble middle-aged shoe shine in the port town of Le Havre who discovers a young refugee from Africa and plots to protect him and ultimately reunite him with his family. It's funny in a droll, offbeat way and it gives you pause to think as well. Just lovely!

10) A Dangerous Method (David Cronenberg) - The true story of Freud, Jung and Sabina Spielrein, one of their patients. The film deals with hidden desires and urges and what happens when we act on them. The thinking of these famous doctors may be rational, but ironically their actions are not always so. Marvelous performances, especially by Viggo Mortensen as Freud and how nice to see Cronenberg tell a story without having to resort to violence.

Other films from 2011 I admired include Margin Call; War Horse; The Skin I Live In; The Descendants: The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo and The Last Rites of Joe May.

Superficially Fair Minded and Collectively Concerned

2012-01-16T19:47:00.000-08:00

Carnage, the latest film from Roman Polanski, is a hilarious, often biting satire on the emptiness of modern day living. Although it is far from top-drawer Polanski, it is still a very well-crafted film from this master filmmaker that deals with characters that live an uneasy life, somewhat like those individuals in many of his other works.

The film is based on the play Le Dieu du Carnage by Yasmina Reza, who adapted her play for the screen along with Polanski. The story is a simple one, as two New York couples meet to try and settle the remnants of a dispute among their teenage sons. Zachary, son of Nancy and Alan Cowan (Kate Winslet and Christoph Waltz) hit Ethan, son of Penelope and Michael Longstreet (Jodie Foster and John C. Reilly) in the mouth with a stick, causing a bloody lip and two broken teeth. The couples get together in the Longstreet's modest, but beautifully appointed Brooklyn apartment to resolve matters.

What should be a simple matter, is anything but. Of course, we expect this or we wouldn't have a story, but it's the way that the cleverly written dialogue unfolds that makes this tale an engaging one. Right from the start, we see that the couples can't even agree on a single word - was Zachary "armed"with a stick or was he "carrying"one?

But given the differences in the couples, it's no wonder that they will quarrel for the entire time they are together in this small living room. The Cowans are quite well off - Nancy is an investment banker while her husband is an attorney, while the Longstreets have much more simple occupations - Penelope is a part-time writer who works at a book store, while Michael sells houseware supplies. Part of the charm of this film (and play) is the way it perfectly captures the small talk these individuals use during those clumsy moments that are so humanly displayed. "Is cobbler a cake or a pie?", asks Michael as he serves dessert to the Cowans in an effort to lighten the mood. Penelope replies, "The way I see it, if there's no crust on the bottom, it's not a pie."

But it doesn't take long for the conversation to take on a more serious mood. What should have been a simple meeting to set up a similar one for the teens turns out to be a marathon verbal exchange about who is to blame and who's right - not only as far as the boys, but especially among the parents. The four adults take turns mocking each other for their beliefs, especially Alan in his disdain for Penelope, who will not accept anything less than a full apology from Zachary - and even then, she really won't be pleased.

Michael stands up for his wife, but the next thing you know, he's mocking her. The same thing happens with Alan and Nancy and at times the men agree with the men while taunting the women and soon afterwards the women join forces to ridicule their husbands. This constantly shifting tone is a wonderful device and keeps the conversation engaging.

There's also some wonderful commentary about materialism, with Alan seemingly attached to his cel phone, while Penelope is hyper serious about her art books. Maintaining this behavior keeps each of them from truly connecting with their respective spouses and what's more, alienates them from what's really important in life - connecting with other people on an equal level.

While this film hardly addresses the world-weary attitude of the characters of Polanski's finest films such as Chinatown (1974) or The Ghost Writer (2010), you can understand why the director would take on this project. One of the main themes in the films of Polanski is that of being trapped (see my post on The Ghost Writer where I go into great detail about this) and that situation is the central point in Carnage. The Cowans, who came to the Longstreet's apartment for what they thought would take only a few minutes, literally become trapped in this setting, as they leave on three occasions but are brought back by coffee and dessert and then by some taunts from Penelope.

Alan is trapped in his momentary work, as represented by the numerous interruptions with calls on his cel phone. Nancy feels like a prisoner in her marriage, as she believes her husband doesn't care enough about her. Penelope is trapped in a world that doesn't see the problems in Africa, where she did research for her book and Michael is trapped in between all this, admiring his wife, but feeling like he can't do enough to please her demands.

Much of the dialogue is quite funny, especially as delivered by these four pros, who must have enjoyed this experience greatly as I'm sure Polanski did. Each performance is excellent with the finest coming from Waltz, who is the quietly ironic and very self-assured; he can't see the silliness of his constant phone conversations. Foster captures the irritating quality of Penelope quite well, never going over the top; Winslet is just fine, especially when she's had a bit too much single malt scotch and Reilly brings a lot of charisma to his role as a put-upon husband.

At only 75 minutes in length, this may seem ridiculously brief for a Roman Polanski film (heck that's not much of a running length for any feature), but it's a highly entertaining time. Carnage will never be viewed as one of the director's finest films, but it's one that takes us into a familiar world for the filmmaker, a world where the characters simply try to survive the madness that surrounds them. In the final analysis, the children in their innocence can settle their differences far easier and with more grace than the adults who have become "successful" with their cel phones, art books and fancy clothes. It's a challenging concept that this film tackles head on and does so very well.

A Troubled Relationship

2012-01-13T14:36:00.000-08:00

Late in We Need to Talk About Kevin, Eva Khatchadourian (Tilda Swinton) tells her son Kevin (Ezra Miller) "You don't look happy," to which he replies, "Have I ever?" This brief exchange tells you all you need to know about the fractured relationship that is at the heart of this harrowing film, directed with great flair and dignity by Lynne Ramsay.

The film deals with how a couple reacts to the behavior of their first-born son, who seems to enjoy having the upper hand on his mother, behaving with wild abandon even as early as seven or eight years old, when he sprays paint all over his mother's room. While Eva is furious with him, her husband Franklin (John C. Reilly) thinks she is overreacting, analyzing that young boys do foolish things from time to time - it's all part of growing up.

But Kevin continues to terrorize his mother, all the while showing affection for his father. This continues even after the couple's second child, a sweet girl named Celia, is born. Kevin's behavior becomes more bizarre, even to the point of bullying his younger sister. Eventually, he will commit a horrific crime, forcing Eva to endure the taunts of her fellow townspeople.

As grim a subject as this is, this is not a depressing film, thanks to the imaginative direction of Lynne Ramsay. The director tells this story in a non-linear fashion, opening with a flashback scene of Eva, in sheer ecstasy at the La Tomatina tomato-throwing festival in Spain. Shot in a dreamy slow motion, we see her being passed amidst the crowd, covered with the juice from the tomatoes. This same slow motion technique is used again in several flash forward images from time to time in the film, when we see the scene where Kevin has gone on his rampage; here the mood is much more eerie.

The film also works largely in part because of the remarkable performance of Tilda Swinton. Her character's joyous past, a fond memory throughout the film, will never be part of her life again, except perhaps in her dreams. She wanted to continue living in the city, but her husband convinced her that a large house in the country was perfect for them, especially if they wanted to have children. Eva performs her motherly duties, but deep down, her sense of pride is slowly evaporating; the present time in this film deals partly with her mundane job at a small, rather amateurish travel agency. Swinton has a stare and a clipped delivery that perfectly captures the angst of her character; she captivates the audience and you literally can't take your eyes off her at any moment. It would not be a stretch to say that both Swinton and Murray are co-auteurs of this work.

The film also deals with the difficult question of a mother's love when she knows her son is bad, if not downright evil. Should Eva have had this child? Since she did, how far will she go to show her maternal instincts in the face of his mocking behavior? These are not easy questions to answer and the filmmakers to their credit, do not shrink from these issues.

This is not to say that this is a film without its flaws. Sections - especially midway through the film - need to be tightened up, as they don't deliver much punch (the Christmas party scene at her new job adds little here). Also, when Eva walks into Kevin's room while he is away at school, the Beach Boys song "In My Room" is heard on the soundtrack. This is much too obvious, and besides the song has been used by other filmmakers to better effect (a much more convincing use of music is the inclusion of Buddy Holly's "Everyday" during the scene on Halloween night - this is a chilling moment in the film!).

But aside from these faults, We Need to Talk about Kevin works extremely well on a visual as well as a visceral level. In her last film, Morvern Caller (2002), Ramsay showed glimpses of her loosely structured style; that movie worked in stretches, but ultimately lacked cohesiveness. With this work, she has matured as a director, not only as a story teller, but even more so as a filmmaker who understands the power of the image (her director of photography Seamus McGarvey deserves much credit here, as his lighting creates the harrowing aspect Murray is after.) This is a film that is powerful, haunting and original. It is one of the best films of 2011.

What I Loved at the Movies in 2011

2012-01-09T21:14:00.000-08:00

Brad Pitt and Jonah Hill in Moneyball

Next week, I'll publish a post on my top 10 films of 2011, but first I need to review a few final films from last year. For today, however, I'm writing about some of my favorite things from movies from 2011; this will include some of the best sequences as well as acting performances along with screenplays, original scores and a few other categories:

Best Sequences

The elevator sequence in Drive.

The seven and one-half minute flashback in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2, beautifully directed, photographed and scored.

In Moneyball, the game where the 2002 Oakland A's go for the American league record of 20 consecutive wins. I love the way director Bennett Miller uses actual film clips and recreations of certain situations in that game (these recreations are done remarkably well). I also love the way he alternates between crowd noise and silence on the soundtrack, as this game took its strange twists and turns. This sequence was one of several highlights from this notable film.

The Halloween night sequence in We Need to Talk about Kevin, with the use of Buddy Holly's song "Everyday." What a chilling moment!

The fire sequence in The Artist where Uggie the dog helps save the life of George Valentin.

The wildly inventive title sequence of The Adventures of Tintin. It's too bad the rest of the movie wasn't as inspired.

The first battle in War Horse, where the cavalry is seen emerging from a wheat field. Beautifully photographed by Janusz Kaminski and directed by Steven Spielberg.

The sequence in Hugo where we see how Georges Mélies made his movies - wonderful imagination by Martin Scorsese.

The scene at the café in Budapest, near the opening of Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy; this set the tone for the rest of this first-rate work.

Gary Oldman in Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy

Best Performances

Actors

The list of lead performances by actors in 2011 begins with Gary Oldman and his remarkably subtle turn in Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy. Another wonderful performance was that of Brad Pitt in Moneyball; this is the most complete acting job to date. Also high marks for George Clooney in The Descendants, Michael Fassbender in Shame (as well as a fine turn in A Dangerous Method) and Jean Dujardin in The Artist. My final praise for a leading actor is for Antonio Banderas in The Skin I Live In. Banderas is cool and calculating in this role and beautifully underplays this intense character.

As for supporting roles, I loved Jonah Hill in Moneyball - what an engaging, charming performance! Ditto for Ben Kingsley in Hugo as well as Viggo Mortensen for A Dangerous Method. I was also impressed by Jeremy Irons and Kevin Spacey in Margin Call, Niels Arestrup in War Horse, Albert Brooks in Drive and Tom Hardy in Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy. Finally, kudos to Robert Forster for his brilliant small turn in The Descendants as well as Kenneth Branagh in My Week With Marilyn.

Tilda Swinton in We Need to Talk about Kevin

Actresses

The finest performance I saw turned in by an actress this year was given by Tilda Swinton in We Need to Talk about Kevin. Intense and proudly fierce, she adds tremendous depth to the chilling film - you can't take your eyes off of her! Kirsten Dunst was first-rate in Melancholia; I'm hopeful this leads to more serious roles like this for this actress who is finally starting to receive much overdue praise.

I also liked Keira Knightley in A Dangerous Method as well as Michelle Williams who was very enchanting in My Week with Marilyn.

As for supporting performances, I loved the work turned in by Jessica Chastain in The Tree of Life, Emily Watson in War Horse as well as Shailene Woodley in The Descendants and Bérénice Bejo in The Artist.

Directors

2011 was a wonderful year for cinema - just look at this list of directors who gave us some of the year's finest films. Let's start with Martin Scorsese for Hugo - who knew that the maker of Raging Bull and Goodfellas had this absolutely charming film in him? I also loved the light touch of Woody Allen in Midnight in Paris, a breezy comedy with several ideal performances. Pedro Almodovar gave us a chilling world of an obsessed doctor in The Skin I Live In that featured arguably the finest visual compositions of any film from 2011.

Lars Von Trier brought us a highly personal vision of the apocalypse with Melancholia, while Terrence Malick gave us creation and its aftermath with The Tree of Life. It was also nice to see David Cronenberg turn in a beautifully executed film such as A Dangerous Method, without resorting to violence, one of his trademarks in the past.

Lesser known directors that were at the top of their game in 2011 included Lynne Ramsey for We Need to Talk about Kevin - what dazzling images! - Bennett Miller for Moneyball, Tomas Alfredson for Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, Michel Hazanavicius for The Artist and J.C. Chandor for Margin Call.

Kudos also to Aki Kaurismaki for his delightful and ironic Le Havre, Jean-Pierre and Luc Dardenne for their sometimes troubling, sometimes enchanting The Kid With a Bike and finally, high praise to Werner Herzog for his brilliant documentary Into The Abyss.

Screenplays

Brilliant job by Steven Zaillian and Aaron Sorkin adapting the script for Moneyball, taking a book based on statistics and finding the human story. Also a marvelous job by Bridget O'Connor and Peter Straughn, putting together a beautifully cohesive and well-structured script for Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, based on the famous John Le Carré novel. Likewise an excellent job of structure for the adaptation of The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo by Steven Zaillian.

Woody Allen gave us one of his most charming original scripts ever for Midnight in Paris while J.C. Chandor wrote a detailed screenplay that took us inside the inner doings of an investment firm in Margin Call. Michel Hazanavicius contributed a funny and touching original screenplay for The Artist.

Other excellent adaptations include that of Lee Hall and Richard Curtis for War Horse, Alexander Payne and Nat Faxon for The Descendants and Christopher Hampton for A Dangerous Method.

Cinematography

The outstanding quality of work turned in by cinematographers not only in Hollywood, but also around the world, is amazing. Technology has changed dramatically in this field over the past decade, as many films are now shot digitally - think about it, just 15 years ago, who could imagine a movie not being shot on traditional film stock? Whatever the method selected, the visuals of films today are stunning.

Every year, we see as many as a half-dozen brilliant jobs turned in by cinematographers, but in 2011, the number was much higher. For me the finest cinematography was by Emmanuel Lubeszki for The Tree of Life. Lubeszki, who has been one of the two or three most brilliant cinematographers of the past ten years, always delivers outstanding work, but he topped his previous efforts with this film. Working with a genius of a visual storyteller such as Terrence Malick helped as the compositions are brillliantly composed and lit; an especially memorable image is a wide-angle shot of a field of sunflowers. This shot, just before the end of the film, is simply breathtaking.

Another superb job of cinematography was supplied this year by Janusz Kaminski for War Horse. Kaminski, who has been Steven Spielberg's regular cinematographer since Schindler's List in 1993, paints a lovely portrait of the English countryside during the First World War; the images are deeply saturated, as though he were recreating Technicolor from the films of 50 and 60 years ago. The final images of a burnt orange sky and a golden sunset are straight out of Gone With the Wind.

Jeff Cronenweth set a cool tone for The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, capturing the gloomy blues and grays of a Swedish winter. Given the depravities of the film's characters, Cronenweth's work instantly gives the viewer the perfect visual feel, helping us understand the behavior of everyone in the film.

Robert Richardson simply dazzled the eye with his work for Hugo. The opening scene in the train station is marvelous and I love the saturated golds of the clocks at the station as well as the deep blues of the costumes.

Manuel Alberto Claro had to present a visual tone for a marriage ceremony in a darkly lit country club as well as that of a mysterious planet in Melancholia and he was up to the challenge. I loved the lighting of the wedding scenes outside at night as well as the bluish tones of the planet.

Of course, only one individual can win the Academy Award for cinematography, but I think all five of these craftsmen deserve an award this year!

Other very impressive work was turned in by Jose Luis Alcaine for The Skin I Live In; Wally Pfister for Moneyball; Hoyte van Hoytema for Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy; Seamus McGarvey for We Need to Talk about Kevin (the bright colors of the house are especially ironic, a nice touch); Peter Suschitzky for A Dangerous Method; Newton Thomas Sigel for Drive and Sean Bobbitt for his cool look of corporate Manhattan in Shame.

Original Score

I will write a separate post on this very soon- 2011 marked a return to the symphonic score. While I have nothing against electronic scores, it is the composer who writes for a full symphony that generally writes the loveliest themes.

Briefly then, two scores stood head and shoulders above the competition this past year. The first was Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2, composed by Alexandre Desplat. While Desplat did incorporate some of John Williams' previous themes for the Harry Potter franchise into his work, he did compose two lovely original themes and gave this film a regal and accomplished musical setting. This is an outstanding score!

The second score that reached the top in 2011 was that of Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy by Alberto Iglesias. This is a subdued score that perfectly suits the moodiness of this Cold War spy drama. The music picks up on the emotions of the characters in a most subtle fashion; the score never announces itself. This is a marvelously complex work from Iglesias.

Other excellent scores were written by John Williams for War Horse (bless him, at 79 years of age he is still able to turn out such a lyrical piece of work), Howard Shore with a charming, lilting score for Hugo; Mychael Danna for Moneyball and Ludovic Bource who beautifully captured the feel of the silent film scores of the 1920s with his work for The Artist.

Other scores that had some effective moments were composed by Clint Eastwood for J. Edgar, Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross for The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo and Johnny Greenwood for We Need to Talk about Kevin.

And finally... a few of my favorite movie quotes from 2011

"You have your mother's eyes." - Severus Snape (Alan Rickman) to Harry Potter (Daniel Radcliffe)- Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2

"Speak as you might to a young child or a golden retriever. It wasn't brains that got me here, I can assure you of that." - John Tuld (Jeremy Irons) to Peter Sullivan (Zachary Quinto) - Margin Call

"Sometimes you have to do something terrible just to go on living." - Carl Jung (Michael Fassbender) to Sabina Spielrein (Keira Knightley) - A Dangerous Method

"Nothing is genuine anymore." - Control (John Hurt) to George Smiley (Gary Oldman) - Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy

"How can you not be romantic about baseball?" - Billy Beane (Brad Pitt) to Peter Brand (Jonah Hill) - Moneyball

The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo

2012-01-08T08:46:00.000-08:00

I have begun reviewing films for Kenneth Morefield at his excellent blog, 1MoreFilmBlog. I will review older films as well as new releases. To date, I have written about I Confess (Alfred Hitchcock, 1953) as well as In The Bedroom (Todd Field, 2001). Here is my first review of a current release, The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo.

David Fincher is back in fine form with The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, a highly charged suspense film about an investigation of a decades-old murder in an upper crust family in Sweden that is solved by some rather unusual methods. Despite some less than stellar material to work with, Fincher provides enough style and energy to make this a very satisfying work that keeps you involved in guessing what the film's assorted characters will do next.

Continue reading at 1More Film Blog...

A Spy Thriller Extraordinaire

2012-01-06T12:01:00.000-08:00

I admit that I was a bit apprehensive about what my reaction would be to Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy. After all, I've seen too many spy thrillers that shift focus from one exotic location to the next while introducing a bewildering group of characters; all of this can make for a confusing and frustrating film experience. Happily, this film shows us what can be done with this genre when everyone - from the screenwriters to the actors, the director and all the technicians - have their batteries charged and work in unison to craft a superb thriller.

TTSS is based upon the classic novel of the same name from John Le Carré. Set in the midst of the Cold War in 1974, the story revolves around the fact that a Russian mole has infiltrated the British intelligence agency MI-6. A British Undersecretary recruits spy George Smiley (Gary Oldman) to investigate this issue; Smiley in turn persuades his assistant Peter Guillam (Benedict Cumberbatch) to do whatever it takes to find the individual who is passing secrets along to the Russians.

The screenplay, adapted by Peter Straughan and Bridget O'Connor (she died late in 2010), is a model in how to economize a complex story that has several plot lines. The film opens in Hungary with a botched assignment and then takes us straight into the "Circus", the nickname for the MI-6 group. We meet this small gathering of spies and see how their inner circle works; their meeting room with its soundproof walls a testament to their secrecy.

We also follow Smiley and Guillam, working from outside the Circus and meet a young British spy named Ricki Tarr who reveals some key secrets from his recent encounters with a Russian spy and his lover. Each character from Smiley and Tarr to Control (John Hurt), Smiley's former boss as well as Percy Alleline (Toby Jones) and Bill Haydon (Colin Firth), two members of the MI-6 inner circle are written with a beautiful clarity and preciseness.

Director Tomas Alfredson takes this labyrinth plot and weaves it into an absorbing thriller. By necessity, there are numerous scenes of spies sitting around talking about what their next move will be; these are not the most exciting cinematic situations imaginable, but Alfredson does an excellent job bringing out all the drama in these moments. His pacing is superb and I can only imagine that he was at least partially influenced by Alfred Hitchcock, especially in the way that he draws out suspense. Watch the scene in the opening moments that takes place in the café in Hungary and note how the director slows things down as he cuts back and forth between all the individuals - key characters as well as bystanders - that are present at this locale.

Alfredson's attention to detail - something necessary in a complicated story such as this - is impressive. A drop of sweat that lands on a table, the Undersecretary buttering his toast, a half-empty pack of cigarettes are all momentary images that help define the complexities of this story. This is a movie that demands your attention during its entire length, so every small piece of information that is presented could be a major clue in the ultimate revelation. How nice to see a film that respects its audience for its intelligence and then rewards them on so many levels.

Along with his cinematographer Hoyte van Hoytema, Alfredson gives us a world of dark images; moody grays, browns and blues are the primary colors here and it's the sensation of gloom that hangs over the lives of the characters in this film. We do see a few scenes of the spies at Christmas parties and such where they let their hair down for a while, but these are fleeting moments of frivolity in their existence. The everyday happenings of these characters is generally mundane, with only a few encounters among outsiders providing a bit of relief. The production design, from the meeting rooms to the research rooms to Smiley's drab dwellings enhances the solemnity and loneliness these men face and place us squarely in a time and locale that capture a sense of gloom among both these individuals and their respective governments.

Another important contribution is the film's original score, composed by Alberto Iglesias. His cue for the sequence near the beginning of the film, where we first meet the members of the Circus and see the environment in which they labor, is marvelous. Haunting and sad, this theme, written in a minor key, features a mournful passage for oboe and muted trumpet. It's subtle, complex and quite memorable - you may not realize it at the time, but it grabs you and stays within your soul. The music as a whole gives you a beautiful sense of the loneliness of the spies and Iglesias writes with the necessary subtleties needed; this is a score that never announces itself, yet it fits the film like a well-tailored suit. This is among the top two or three scores of the year and it has all the beauty and resonance of a Jerry Goldsmith score from his glory days of the 1970s. This is about as high a praise as I can give to an original musical film score!

The entire ensemble delivers an amazing array of performances, especially from Jones, Hurt and Firth, as well as Mark Strong as world-weary spy Jim Prideaux. But there are two actors whose work in this film must be singled out. As Smiley, Gary Oldman delivers a performance of uncommon discipline and subtlety. His character is a decent man, but one who is deeply flawed; adding to his mistrust of his fellow man is the fact that his wife cheated on him with a former colleague. Smiley is reluctant to let anyone into his world, the one exception being Guillam; in a remarkable scene in Smiley's living quarters, he bares his soul in a somber monologue about a flight he took years ago and what he learned during that situation. Oldman delivers much of this speech directly to the camera and it's a moment of quiet grace for his character.

Viewing the world through his oversized horn-rimmed glasses, Smiley seeks the truth, but makes for the realization that the majority of the individuals he meets are dishonest. He says what he has to say quietly, raising his voice only once in the film, always keeping his guard up. Oldman has been known for his quirky roles in the past (Sid Vicious in Sid and Nancy, Lee Harvey Oswald in JFK to name only two); here he gives us a solemn, proud man who quietly and gracefully lights up the screen. It's an outstanding performance, the finest I have seen all year.

The other remarkable performance here is given by Tom Hardy as Ricki Tarr. The brief episode of his character, who elicits dangerous secrets from a beautiful Russian woman, is one of the most engaging in the film and Hardy relishes this time on screen. We see the self-doubt in his face and hear the fear in his voice, as he knows that everyone is out to learn about his secrets. There's a seductive charm to Hardy's performance and the film's tone changes ever so slightly during his time on screen; Hardy has great charisma and his moments with Oldman are riveting.

Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy is a superb return to the spy film genre. Both a marvelously crafted thriller as well as a commentary on the mistrust and selfishness of individuals who indirectly affect the policies of their governments, the film is an absorbing, highly intelligent drama that is among the best of 2011.

A Silent Triumph

2012-01-02T13:48:00.000-08:00

The Artist is a sweet, utterly charming movie that understands the audience's love of what movies represent. This silent film (except for two wonderful moments I will not reveal) is both a beautifully told story about an actor who sees his fortunes change during the transition from silent films to talkies as well as a look at the joy of making movies, both in terms of today's cinema as well as in years past.

Directed by French filmmaker Michel Hazanavicius, The Artist tells the story of silent movie star George Valentin (Jean Dujardin), who as the story begins, is standing behind the curtain of his latest film at its 1927 premiere. While others, such as studio boss Al Zimmer (John Goodman) wait anxiously for the audience's reaction, Valentin is confident that the moviegoers will love his new work and sure enough, just as the film ends, there is thunderous applause.

As The Artist is a silent film itself, Hazanavicius cleverly shows us the audience clapping their approval, but we cannot hear the sound of their appeciation. Valentin steps in front of the curtain along with his trusted canine friend, a charismatic Jack Russell terrier who always seems to be at the side of the actor, both on and off-screen. Valentin proceeds to ham it up in front of the audience, taking bows far beyond the normal time any other actor would be allowed, much to the chagrin of his leading lady, though Zimmer, who is used to this behavior, doesn't seem to mind; after all, this is his meal ticket.

As he meets his fans outside the theater, one admiring female named Peppy Miller (Berenice Bejo) stumbles from the crowd and bumps into Valentin. She is embarrassed at first and Valentin is puzzled, but after this awkward beginning, they laugh and pose for the cameras, with Miller even stealing a kiss from him. A photo of this brief encounter runs in publications across the country with the headline, "Who's That Girl?"

I won't give away too many more plot details, but it is important to know that from that moment on, the two of them will be linked forever more. They will make a film together and eventually she will become a starlet in Hollywood, while his fame decreases. Valentin will become morose and feel sorry for himself, but Miller will always be there for him and if he will only let her help him, as she says in the film, he can meet with renewed success.

If The Artist consisted merely of this story of how these two characters alternately discover the joy as well as the despair of sudden fame, it would be more than enough to make this film a success. The two characters are wonderful icons, Valentin, the dashing star and Miller, the irresistible young discovery. Aiding greatly in our appreciation of these two characters are the performances of these actors, especially that of Dujardin. The actor has the necessary good looks for the role of a film star, but it's his physical mannerisms that really convince us of his talent. He's light on his feet, elegantly maneuvering his way through good and bad times. Bejo is just lovely here, as she clearly has a face the camera loves (as does Hazanavicius, her real-life husband) and her facial expressions are perfect, whether she is expressing joy during an audition or surprise when being discovered during a simple dance step she performs at the studio.

But The Artist give us so much more than a heartwarming story, as it's also an unabashed tribute to silent films and even a few sound films of the past. The story of his downfall and her success has that A Star is Born theme, while the scene of Valentin watching his old films in his drab apartment by himself is straight out of Sunset Boulevard. Hazanavicius understands that the audience knows and loves those films and plays upon our admiration. He also includes a scene at the dining table of Valentin and his wife (Penelope Ann Miller), where she reads a paper as he tries to express his true feelings toward her. This is a direct tribute to a similar scene in Citizen Kane, one of the cinema's most iconic works.

While I loved these tributes, I do have one quarrel with this approach and it's when the director includes the famous love theme from Vertigo, composed by Bernard Herrmann. While this music does transmit the emotions on the screen at this point in the film, it's debatable as to why it's included here. It's an iconic piece of music and to anyone who's ever seen Vertigo, this cue will be forever linked with that work, so when we hear this music in this situation, it takes us away from the film we're watching and instantly transports us to that famous Hitchcock work. As The Artist features a delightful original score by Ludovic Bource - a score that has the charm and bounce you'd expect from a silent film - it's really a mystery as to why the director didn't just have Bource write music for this particular sequence as well.

That aside, Hazanvicius made so many great decisions with this work and let's give him credit for making The Artist. How much of a risk was this, making a black and white silent film in 2011? Who would think such a movie could ever be successful? Hazanavicius, who also wrote the story and screenplay, has given us a movie that succeeds not because it is a piece of fluff (as some reviewers have termed the film), but because it is an enchanting, clever and highly entertaining work that reminds all of us of the pleasures of filmgoing in our youth - and of the sheer joy that can still be gained when moviemakers use their God-given talents to craft a film that delights us with its simple and heartfelt moments that celebrate life - both on and off-screen.

Hidden Thoughts and Desires

2011-12-29T17:11:00.000-08:00

"Sometimes you have to do something terrible to go on living." - Carl Jung (Michael Fassbender)

That terrible thing is one of the central points of A Dangerous Method, the engrossing new film from David Cronenberg. Pitting doctor against patient and doctor against doctor, the film touches upon hurt feelings, passions and hidden thoughts that eventually must emerge from the film's main characters if they indeed are to continue to face life and all its challenges.

The film deals with the case of Sabina Spielrein (Keira Knightley), a troubled young woman suffering from neuroses, who seeks a cure from Carl Jung (Michael Fassbender). The time is 1904 and the setting is Jung's office in a lovely forest in Switzerland. As Jung initially questions Spielrein, she stammers and thrusts her jaw forward, as though possessed by the devil. Clearly puzzled by her physical mannerisms as well as her inner demons, Jung decides that he will use the newly developed "talking cure"- the foundation of psychoanalytic treatment at the time, as created by Sigmund Freud (Viggo Mortensen) - as his basis for treating this woman.

As Jung starts to unravel the deep neuroses inside Spielrein, he notices how intelligent and perceptive she is and asks her to assist him with some of his patients. The first case she works on is a practice one, where Jung has his wife hooked up to a machine that will record her blood pressure and heart beat - sort of an early day lie detector - that he uses along with word association. As Spielrein assists, she notes that Jung's wife was hesitant in answering certain questions about sex. She wonders if Jung has a happy marriage and soon afterwards, acts on this, as she passionately kisses him.

Jung realizes he must not have an affair with one of his patients, but he is clearly attracted to her and despite his inner doubts, goes ahead and sleeps with her. This behavior goes on for some time, with Jung finally letting Spielrein know that he cannot continue with this situation. As she has the upper hand on him, she suggests that he put all the details of this affair in a letter to Sigmund Freud in Vienna.

Freud had become a mentor and somewhat of a father figure to Jung, who had contradictory feelings about him. Clearly he respected Freud's original work, but he was also dismayed at how Freud tied in everything to sex. Now that Jung himself has had sex with a patient, he has left himself open to a brutally honest analysis from Freud and their friendship is tested.

Meanwhile, Spielrein who is now cured, has gone on to study pyschoanalysis and has published papers that are respected by Freud. The film at this point turns to examine how she came between Freud and Jung on the specific (the affair between Jung and her) and the general (which one would trust her and vice versa).

The screenplay is an intelligent one, adapted by Christopher Hampton from his play, The Talking Cure, which was itself adapted from the non-fiction book A Most Dangerous Method, written by John Kerr. All three main characters are real-life individuals (with Freud and Jung being world famous) and each is given his or her due here as three-dimensional characters. Naturally, having actors of this caliber is a great aide to this work and each one turns in an expert performance. Knightley takes chances with her role, not afraid to look unattractive; by the film's end she generates a lovely warmth. Fassbender exudes a quiet approach, one that appears quite confident on the outside, while actually full of doubt on the inside. Mortensen delivers my favorite performance in the film, giving us a Freud of great dignity and polish; given this man's public notoriety over the past century, it's nice to see Mortensen deliver such an understated turn.

I've not been that big a fan of Cronenberg in the past; much of that having to do with his use of extreme violence to spice up his films. How nice then for the director to take on a project such as this, a thinking man's story of lust, deception and professional relationships. Cronenberg lets the storylines play out, never overwhelming us with obvious symbolism, as might have been so easy to do, given the role of psychoanalysis in this work. His cinematographer Peter Suschitsky and he give us some lovely images, including Jung and Spielrein walking along a bridge in the forest and Freud lying down in Jung's sailboat that is tranversing a sun-splashed lake.

The ending of the film is a graceful one, as Spielrein, now a successful child psychologist meets with Jung, who has suffered a falling out with Freud. She clearly has the upper hand now, a 180-degree turn around from when they first met. Yet they treat each others as equal and each uncovers some of the secrets to living life in a meaningful way. Suppressing certain thoughts and behavior may be rational, but as we learn from all three characters, it is not always healthy.

Documentary Channel: "Virtual JFK"

2011-12-28T08:30:00.000-08:00

Virtual JFK: Vietnam if Kenned Had Lived takes a look at what might have happened regarding the American commitment in Vietnam if President John F. Kennedy had not been assassinated and had been able to make the critical decisions. Combining rarely seen film clips and presidential conversations, this is a thoroughly researched work that is among the very finest political documentaries I have ever seen.

The film is the work of director Koji Masutani and co-producer James Blight, who narrates the film. Blight, a PhD from the Watson Institute for International Studies at Brown University, is well-versed in the history of the Vietnam War; he was the principal substantive adviser to documentarian Errol Morris for his Oscar-winning film The Fog of War. That film detailed the role that Robert McNamara, then Secretary of Defense, played in America's role in Vietnam during much of the 1960s.

Blight's hypothesis in Virtual JFK is spelled out in a question he asks early on in the film; "Does it matter who is president on issues of war and peace?" Blight asks other questions on the same theme, arguing perhaps that public sentiment may hold the answer. But Blight's response to his own question is that, yes, it does matter who leads the country and makes the decisions regarding a commitment to war. His evidence consists of six events during the JFK administration when he could have sent troops into combat, but refused. Thus, argues Blight, our time in Vietnam would have been much shorter and there would have been much greater loss of life eventually, if JFK had been alive to set the agenda.

The first urgent situation regarding war in JFK's presidency came only a few months after he took office; this was the Bay of Pigs crisis in Cuba in April, 1961. Kennedy decided not to send in American troops to support the Cuban rebels who were trying to kill Castro. His reasoning, as explained through his answers in film clips shown here, is that sending in troops on foreign soil to fight when there has been no attack on the United States is counter to our long-standing policies. At a press conference the day after he made statements to this end, we see the president face some pretty tough criticism from the reporters at a White House press conference. Even Blight in his narration says that Kennedy knew that he would be sensed as a "failure" by many Americans, based on this decision.

Other events include the Berlin Crisis in late 1961, when the Russians wanted to take control of all of Berlin just after the Berlin wall had been built and the Cuban Missile Crisis in October 1962. During these situations and the others examined in this film, Blight notes how JFK resisted the urge to go to war, despite recommendations to do just that from his main advisers as well as the Joint Chiefs of Staff. Kennedy preferred the relative orderliness of negotiations to the impulse of declaring war and as it turned out, met with great success with his non-combative philosophy.

There are numerous film clips that detail everything that surrounded these events and the makers of this film have included not just images of Kennedy, but also comments from the Russian leaders of the time, such as then foreign minister Andrei Gromyko and chairman Nikita Khrushchev. We also see the famous Kennedy sense of humor on display again and again in this film, especially in his give and take with reporters. At one point, a journalist mentions to Kennedy that the Republican National Committee adopted a resolution staing that the president was a failure in office, to which JFK responded, "I'm sure it was passed unanimously."

Blight's arguments are well-structured and well thought out. He mentions how another leader who was not as skeptical or cautious as Kennedy would have made decisions that might have caused disastrous actions. Yet, this film is not hero-worship of Kennedy, but rather one that presents the president as a serious man who took on his critics with the proper tone, maintaining his role as a leader who would battle on as he would see fit. If it meant arguing with his chiefs of staff, even if he was alone in his beliefs, so be it.

I loved watching the old film clips, especially the ones of the press conferences I had never seen before. It's pretty neat today with the passage of time to see reporters scribbling down notes on a legal pad with pen or pencil in hand - no smart phones or laptops back then! It's also fascinating to hear the sound clips in this film; the most enlightening for me is the one where he argues with several generals about not attacking Cuba during the missile crisis. This shows the president as his most defiant - and arguably - his most persuasive tone.

As this film ends, we see the results of how Lyndon Johnson's decisions as President turned out. "We intend to bury no one and we do not intend to be buried," is one of LBJ's quotes; these of course, turned out to be highly ironic words, given the tens of thousands of American troops who would lose their lives in Vietnam.

The overall structure of this work with its film clips and statements given by James Blight along with a beautifully sensitive musical score by Joshua Kern make Virtual JFK: Vietnam if Kennedy Had Lived a memorable and necessary film. It is very highly recommended.

Virtual JFK: Vietnam if Kennedy Had Lived will be shown on Documentary Channel on Friday, December 30 at 8:00 and 11:00 PM (EST).

Documentary Channel "Trimpin"

2011-12-27T09:34:00.000-08:00

Trimpin: The Sound of Invention is a highly entertaining look at a man who hears music in every sound he encounters. It's also an engaging look at an inventor/composer/visionary who is truly one of a kind.

Trimpin - he uses only his last name - was born in the Black Forest section of Germany, an area where cuckoo clocks are crafted and it seems that the mechanisms and music of these clocks heavily influenced him in his lifelong journey in creating novel sounds. Now living on the West Coast of America, Trimpin buys all sorts of junk as well as scrap metal and plastics and assembles any manner of strange and unique machines as well as musical instruments.

Director Peter Esmonde does a wonderful job telling the artist's story, as he moves from simple tools to more complex structures that are assembled in his warehouse, which is bursting with all sorts of random parts. Trimpin works with the ridiculous - plastic violins and guitars - to the sublime - often building megastructures made from various pipes and tubes that are whimsical musical entities.

One of the most ingenous of these sound sculptures is what Trimpin calls a Seismaton. This is a series of tubes linked up to marimbas and xylophones that play notes according to the seismic movement of the earth! Trimpin points out how the melodies vary, whether the tremors occur in Asia (thus music based on the pentatonic scale), Europe (western-oriented music) or Africa (polytonal). What an imagination this man has!

Esmonde shoes us in great detail how he creates a special musical concert, along with the input of the performing musicians. He also has a few enlightening scenes of Trimpin back in Germany, as he notes the sounds of the Rhine River as well as the wind rustling through the trees that he first heard as a child; the artist notes these influences in his life. "I knew this would be a lifetime investigation," declares Trimpin and indeed it has been.

Though never represented by an agent and despite the fact he has no website, Trimpin has garnered much attention; his $250,000 grant from the MacArthur foundation (the so-called "genius" grant) is evidence of that. Yet I'm certain that very few people know who this creative man is or what he does. Thankfully, Esmonde in his wonderful film, gives us a captivating glimpse into this man's life and work. This is a highly recommended film.

Trimpin: The Sound of Invention will be shown on Documentary Channel on Thursday, December 29 at 8:00 and 11:00 (EST)

Documentary Channel: "Space Tourists"/ "Crisis"

2011-12-25T08:17:00.000-08:00

Space Tourists is a straightforward documentary about the current shape of the Russian space program, focusing on the 2006 flight of Anousheh Ansari, an American businesswoman born in Iran, who flew aboard the International Space Station for eight days. For this privilege, Ansari paid $30 million of her own money to help fund the Russian Soyuz flight that eventually hooked up with the space station.

Interesting stuff, right? Well it's just matter-of-factly presented in this film, as we see the usual shots of Ansari and the other astronauts and cosmonauts living in the gravity-free bounds of space. So we see her hair all stretched out and note how difficult it is to eat and drink on board the ship. There's nothing new here and if it wasn't for a couple of gorgeous NASA images of the earth below, there would be little that's watchable in this section.

I would have preferred knowing more about Ansari - who she is and what really drove her to make this decision. She's quoted as stating that she would have loved to stay longer, but what does that tell us about the individual?

Actually the most interesting scenes in the film are when we see a team of technicians drive through the Russian countryside to retrieve that various stages of the rocket that have fallen to earth. We see at one point how a farmer found some of this metal, kept it and transformed it into a farm implement.

Given that this is the most intriguing part of this film, it's difficult to recommend Space Tourists to anyone except the most passionate follower of the space station.

A far more effective work is Crisis: Behind a Presidential Commitment, an incisive look at the moment in 1963 when two African-American students were going to be the first of their race to attend the University of Alabama. Filmmaker Robert Drew, then a producer for ABC News, had his team of cameramen at the critical centers that mattered during this time, following Governor George Wallace of Alabama along with President John F. Kennedy and his brother Robert, the nation's attorney general. Wallace had promised to stand in the doorway of the university to block the students' admission, while Robert Kennedy had to initiate commands among his staff as to how to deal with this situation. Would he send the national guard? Would his assistant attorney general be able to maintain dignity and order on that famous day?

Drew does not trick things up or overdramatize here, but instead cuts back and forth among these black-and-white clips, which tell the story brilliantly. We eavesdrop on the primary individuals and get a nice sense of what this encounter will mean for themselves as well as the people of Alabama and the nation. The filming of these clips were for news, thus there is no attempt to make us feel that any one individual is a hero or villain, so the viewer can decide for himself what to think.

This was when news was news and not so much entertainment, as it is today. For that reason, Crisis works beautifully as a vital piece of American history; it is also a very engaging film and is recommended for anyone interested in that era of American history or to see how certain pieces of the executive branch work.

Space Tourists will be shown on Documentary Channel on Sunday, December 25 at 8:00 and 11:00 (EST).
Crisis will be shown on Documentary Channel on Monday, December 26 at 8:00 and 11:00 (EST).

Through January 5, Documentary Channel is asking viewers to vote on their favorite documentaries that will be shown in December. By voting, individuals will also have the chance to win prizes, ranging from t-shirts to camcorders to iPads. For information, go to this page on the Documentary website.

The End of the World - According to Lars Von Trier

2011-12-23T09:45:00.000-08:00

Melancholia, the latest film from Danish director Lars Von Trier, is a highly original, thought provoking work that calls to mind what Stanley Kubrick accomplished with 2001: A Space Odyssey (1968); that is, to challenge the viewer to think about our place in the cosmos. Though more conventional (at least on the surface) than Kubrick's opus, Melancholia is no less unsettling a film. It is quite simply, a mesmerizing work that ranks among the finest films of the past several years.

The foundation of the film's story line is that of a young woman named Justine (beautifully portrayed by Kirsten Dunst) who is getting married at a very upscale wedding hosted by her sister Claire (Charlotte Gainsbourg) and her husband John (Kiefer Sutherland). It is John's money, as he constantly reminds both Justine and Claire, that is paying for this over-the top-affair at a lakeside castle, complete with an 18-hole golf course. Everyone is dressed to the nines, champagne flows and it's a special day.

Except that it isn't very meaningful for Justine. Instead of this being the happiest day of her life, it's little more than a distraction in her existence. We sense this even before the wedding sequences, as Von Trier gives us a dazzling prologue - accompanied by the somber strains of the Overture from Wagner's Tristan & Isolde - consisting of images of what is to come in the film. These include one of Justine in her wedding dress, floating down a stream as well as a shot of her running in slow motion through a field, as she is being pulled by plant roots that try to hold her still.

The prologue also shows us a planet colliding with the Earth, so we know what the ending of this film will be, yet realizing the finality of life helps us better understand the motives of the characters we meet. Justine clearly is bothered by something during her wedding; does she know for a fact that the end of the world is coming? As she arrives at the reception, she notices an extremely bright light in the sky and wonders what it is. She is told it is a faraway star, but when she briefly exits the reception hall to look at this light again, Von Trier seems to hint that Justine thinks this is no ordinary light among the heavens.

Justine's point-of-view at the wedding reception is the first part of this film; the second half is told from the viewpoint of Claire. She is much more down to earth than Justine; certainly caring for a husband and a young son Leo (Cameron Spurr), make her existence more based in everyday routines than that of Justine, who left her husband at the end of the reception.

It is during the post-wedding sequences, still at the castle, where Von Trier presents us with the opposing outlooks of the two women. Jack, an astronomer, has now told the women that the star in the sky that Justine saw earlier is in reality a planet that had been previously unseen as it has been hiding behind the sun. This fly-by planet, named Melancholia, is on an orbit that will have it come very close to earth, which mesmerizes Jack, who assures Claire that it will approach very near to earth, but it will not collide.

Yet, we as viewers know better, having seen the prologue and soon both Claire, who had been worried about this possibility and Justine, who seems to have foreseen it, become aware of the impending doom that awaits them and everyone on earth.

While Claire's reaction is one many of us can identify with, it is Justine's thought process about this disaster that confronts us. Von Trier, in several interviews about this film, has been quoted as stating that melancholiacs are better prepared for terrible moments in life, as they are better adjusted for them; it is their way of saying, "I told you so." This is certainly helpful in understanding how Justine remains calm amidst the impending doom. In a nice touch, Von Trier has her walk in the forest with Leo and shape long wooden poles to build a small fortress that the two of them - along with Claire- can sit under as the final chaos occurs. Their fortress will be to no avail against an exploding planet of course, but building it it is a splendid insight into the tranquility Justine has with the end of the world.

So while we know that Justine is serene with this apocalyptic moment, did she actually hope for it to happen? This is a question that goes unanswered and makes this film that much more daring. The end of the world has been the subject of many books and films before; now Von Trier gives us his vision, one that's deeply satisfying, especially in terms of trying to understand the human psyche. Kubrick may have given us a more positive ending with 2001, but the resolution that Von Trier presents in Melancholia is no less confrontational. Like Kubrick's film, Melancholia is a masterwork, one that stays with you for a very long time.

P.S. The use of Wagner's Tristan & Isolde is for me, the finest utilization of classical or neo-classical music in a film since Kubrick used Strauss and Ligeti in 2001. Again, that comparison!

P.P.S. The symbolism of circles in this film. There are the circular shapes of the two planets as well as the circular shape of the lens in a telescope and wine glasses at the reception. There are others, but one small one that I noticed; as the reception draws to a close, Justine tells her father that a room at the castle can be made up for an overnight stay. That room number is 8; this number of course, made of two circles. Yet when Justine goes to visit her father in that room, all she finds is a hand-written note that claims he was offered a ride back to town, meaning there was no need to stay. Could Justine's father also have had a premonition about the end of the world?

Nice, but a bit too tidy

2011-12-17T08:11:00.000-08:00

What we have with The Descendants is a kinder, gentler Alexander Payne. The writer/director who gave us such films as About Schmidt (2002) and Sideways (2004), delivers a film that is less cynical about its main characters than much of his previous work. It's a good movie with a few beautifully honest moments, but in the final analysis, it's a bit too nice and tidy and just doesn't hold up as well compared with his previous efforts.

The story itself is a serious one; that of a successful lawyer named Matt King (George Clooney), who has been given the task of selling a family trust of thousands of acres of prime native Hawaiian land that some of his relatives and he have inherited. Due to a law that prohibits ownership in perpetuity, they have only seven years left to decide who to sell the land to, be it a local group or out-of-town developers.

It's a big task and it keeps Matt knee deep in paperwork and meetings. But that pales in comparison to his most serious concern; his wife was seriously injured in a boating accident and is in a coma at the local hospital. It isn't long before Matt learns that there is no hope for his wife, so he must take care of this business as well as the real estate sale and perhaps most importantly, break the news to his two daughters, 17-year old Alexandra (Shailene Woodley) and 10-year old Scottie (Amara Miller).

This is of course, a difficult and slightly clumsy challenge for Matt, but it becomes more complicated when he learns a fact about his wife that his oldest daughter knew, but had not previously shared with her father. Matt is floored by this news (I won't give this plot detail away), something that affects both him personally and as it soon turns out, could alter his business plans as far as the land sale.

What I like about this film is the way that Matt deals with his daughters. The dialogue (by Nat Faxon, Jim Rash and Payne, based on a novel by Kaui Hart Hemmings) is smart and realistic; this is a far more accurate depiction of how young girls talk than a film such as Juno, for example. It's the same on other levels as well, as when Matt goes to his neighbors for advice with his problems. There are a lot of clumsy moments that nicely reflect the awkward moments in our life.

Clooney, who is in every scene in this film, is the glue that holds this story together and he's more than up to the challenge. He deep voice confirms a sense of calm, even when things are going haywire. He's even more effective however, when he doesn't speak- his focus sharpens and his face tightens, as you know he wants to say something, but doesn't. This is especially true in the scenes with Robert Forster, who portrays Clooney's father-in-law, who blames Matt for the accident that gravely injured his daughter.

The scenes that Clooney and Forster share - one at Forster's home and one at the hospital - are the best moments in this film. There's an anger that pervades Forster's vision, as he doesn't know all the facts. Clooney could tell him everything, but doesn't, if only for not wanting an even bigger conflict on his hands. The screenplay at these moments asks us, "how much is enough?"- are there indeed secrets that are not worth sharing, even if divulging those secrets can ease our pain?

This overriding message is the one that makes The Descendants a successful film. It is a strong enough point to outweigh some of the pat situations here, as I feel that things are wrapped up a bit too tidy with this film. A few more serious questions could have been asked and I believe this would have been a better film for it. Dealing with the death of a loved one is a somber challenge to anyone and this is a good look at the subject, but except for the scenes with Forster, there isn't the bite to this film that you expect. Payne gave us some pretty cynical characters in his previous works and for me, these characters added a lot of depth to those stories, which dealt with a number of crazy- and sad - moments in the human condition. I prefer the old Payne and hope he returns to that vision in his future works. But for now, The Descendants will have to do.

Documentary Channel: "The History of American Film Criticism"

2011-12-15T09:28:00.000-08:00

During the month of December, the Documentary Channel is presenting a "Best of" series of some of the most honored documentaries of the past few years. I will be reviewing several of these films over the next two weeks. Here is my review of the film For The Love of Movies: The Story of American Film Criticism - Tom Hyland

"Why is agism acceptable in the print media and the electronic media?," asks Michael Wilmington, former film critic for the Chicago Tribune at one point in the documentary For the Love of Movies: The Story of American Film Criticism. Wilmington's question is a response to the fact that as traditional media wants to court a younger audience, those are exactly the people who are now being assigned the job as critics.

This issue is one of several intriguing ones introduced in this excellent film, a work that is aptly titled as it thoroughly examines the history of film criticism in America. The film is divided into chapters, beginning with the first reviews - little more than plot synopses - coming at the end of the 19th and during the beginning of the 20th century and continuing up to the digital age where reviewers fill the internet via personal blogs. In between these eras, writer/director Gerald Peary - himself a film critic - addresses and interviews some of the country's finest film reviewers, from Roger Ebert to Stanley Kauffmann to Molly Haskell.

One of the aspects of American film criticism that's analyzed here is the spat between Andrew Sarris and Pauline Kael. Sarris, was one of the first (perhaps the first) American film critic to espouse the auteur theory that had been popular with the French critics of the 1950s and '60s. This theory stated that the director was the author of the film and Sarris went on to explain this in great detail in his famous book, The American Cinema: Directors and Directions, which he wrote in 1968. Kael, who had recently been hired by The New Yorker as their film critic at that time, disagreed with this theory, calling it "amateurish." Critics throughout America took sides, some opting for Sarris' approach, while others preferred Kael's thinking. Sarris is quoted here saying that "We helped each other establish a dialectic."

Other topics in this film include the need for film criticism, how directors and producers react to negative reviews (the famous story of Kenneth Turan's less than stellar writeup of Titanic is detailed) and how younger film critics of today have arguably changed the way movies are made in Hollywood. Of course in a film that deals with the history of American film criticism, reviewers such as James Agee, Vincent Canby and Bosley Crowther are given their due.

While this is a film aimed at movie buffs, I think anyone interested in American films will find this film to be most entertaining. Highly Recommended

For the Love of Movies: The History of American Film Criticism will be shown on Documentary Channel on Thursday, December 15 at 8:00 and 11:00 Eastern time.

Documentary Channel: "Tell Them Who You Are"

2011-12-14T10:39:00.000-08:00

During the month of December, Documentary Channel is presenting a "Best of" series of some of the most honored documentaries of the past few years. I will be reviewing several of these films over the next two weeks. Here is my first review of the film "Tell Them Who You Are." - Tom Hyland

Tell Them Who You Are (2004) is a documentary made by Mark Wexler about his father, celebrated two-time Academy Award-winning cinematographer, Haskell Wexler. Moving, funny and deeply touching, this is a first-rate film about how these two filmmakers struggle with their differences while at the same time, coming together in the mutual respect and love only a father and son could share.

Haskell Wexler has been one of Hollywood's greatest cinematographers for more than four decades (he is currently 89 years old- he was 82 when this film was made) and his talent is legendary, as evidenced by his photography in such films as The Thomas Crown Affair (1968), In The Heat of the Night (1967) and dozens of other films including Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf (1966) and Bound for Glory (1976); these last two being his Oscar winners. Wexler has also directed a few films, his most famous being Medium Cool (1968), much of which was filmed during the Democratic National Convention of that years, held in Chicago, when anti-war demonstrators filled the streets of downtown Chicago in protest. Wexler has always been an activist with left-wing views and it's something he's quite proud of.

But the elder Wexler has also been a bit of a difficult person to deal with and that's much of the focus of this film. We get interviews with directors, producers and actors he's worked with and there are many comments as to how they would never work with him again. Milos Forman, who fired Wexler late in the filming of One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest (1975), talks about this experience, as does Michael Douglas, the producer of that film.

Yet it isn't just his work in Hollywood that has Haskell arguing with someone; it happens at home as well and his son Mark shows us a few of these instances. In one memorable scene, the two of them argue over whether or not Mark should shoot an interview of his father outside to obtain the light from the sunset, while Haskell thinks what he has to say onscreen is much more important than getting the right visual tone. This scene goes on for a bit and I loved watching every minute of it, as we see the friction between father and son on what seems to be a relatively minor point.

Lest you think that Haskell is always a handful, there is a very moving scene late in the film where he goes to visit his first wife (he has since remarried) at a care facility, where she is suffering the ravages of Alzheimer's disease. Mark's camera gives the two of them proper space and then slowly creeps in, as we see Haskell softly tell his wife about the wonderful times they shared when they were youngsters. Haskell finally breaks down, as we see him shed a few tears, as he realizes the love of his life is slipping away from him. Especially after seeing the cantankerous moods of Haskell, this scene is quite powerful.

You will learn a bit about Haskell Wexler's movie career while watching Tell Them Who You Are, but more importantly, you will see how he reacts with his son. It isn't always an ideal relationship, but at the end of the day, there's a great deal of respect there as each respects the talents and wishes of the other. This is a marvelous film that is Highly Recommended.

Tell Then Who You Are will be shown on Documentary Channel on Wednesday, December 14 at 8:00 PM Eastern time. For a schedule of the special documentaries that will be shown this month, go to the website for a schedule.

Scorsese's Love Letter to Early Cinema

2011-12-09T16:09:00.000-08:00

Hugo is a dazzling visual treat that tells the charming story of how a little boy helped rescue the career of Georges Mélies, one of the founding fathers of cinema in the 20th century. Martin Scorsese has given us a marvelous cinematic present with this work, delivering a message that like clockwork, our dreams and passions will be in fine working order at the end of the day. Charming and ever-delightful, this is one of the finest films of this year - as well as the past few years.

Shot in Real 3-D, the film is about a 12-year old boy named Hugo Cabret (Asa Butterfield) who resides at a train station in Paris in 1930. He lives there as an orphan, after his father died in a fire, leaving one of his uncles to take him in at the station, so he could wind the various clocks at that building. Hugo has to steal pastries and fruit from vendors at the station to survive, ensuring a constant surveillance from the Station Inspector (Sacha Baron Cohen, in a subdued performance) and his eager doberman.

One day, Hugo is held by Georges (Ben Kingsley), who operates the station's toy store. Georges calls Hugo a thief and demands that he give back all the various tools he has been taking from him. As Hugo returns some of these, Georges also sees that the boy has a small notebook with numerous drawings, the most intriguing of which are of a human face, each one slightly different, so that when he flips through the pages in a hurry, the face moves as in a motion picture. Georges seizes the book, much to the disappointment of Hugo.

This is critical scene in the film, as we see that Hugo has been stealing tools in order to fix an automaton, a robot that his father and he had been working on for some time. Now following his father's death, the need to repair this robot - and thus learn of an important detail that will open up a new world to Hugo - is a driving factor in his life. When he soon meets Isabelle (Chloe Grace Moretz), a similarly-aged young girl who is Georges' goddaughter, Hugo will find the missing tool to repair the automaton and realize his dreams.

This sets things up for one of the most delightful scenes in the film, as Isabelle has the heart-shaped key that is the final piece needed to operate the automaton. The machine comes to life, slowly creating an amazingly detailed drawing of an image from the famous film, A Trip to the Moon, directed by George Mélies, who was celebrated for his amazing work on hundreds of films decades earlier, but who then suffered a career downfall and is presumed dead. It turns out he did not die, but is indeed Georges, the owner of the toy store. The drawing that Hugo and Isabelle take to Georges will unlock the mystery of his career.

The film, up to that point a marvelous tale of Hugo's trials and tribulations at the train station, now takes on a new identity, that of Martin Scorsese's love of early cinema, especially that of Mélies. Scorsese goes to great lengths - along with his brilliant production designer Dante Ferretti - to bring to life what Mélies' cinematic work must have looked like. This sequence, showing rehearsals of actors costumed as everything from ghosts to pirates to oversized crustaceans, is simply delightful. Scorsese goes on to show us how some of these scenes were filmed and edited and the result is sheer, unadulterated admiration of Scorsese's love for the trailblazing work of Mélies.

A note on the Real 3D process in this film; it works beautifully and is rarely used to call attention to itself. Speaking simply as a viewer, it's also a lot of fun, especially in the opening sequence, when you are positive that snowflakes from the Paris winter are going to land in your lap - they're that close. Even small pieces of dust are shown flying through the train station and boy, does that doberman look threatening in the foreground of several shots - watch out! The 3D is a lovely addition to this film not only in a surface level way, but also an emotional way, as when we see Hugo emerge from behind the giant clock at the station, looking and feeling quite inconsequential. Leave it to Scorsese to bring 3D technology to a peak, at least so far.

Scorsese has been reunited with several of his favorite collaborators here and what craftsmanship they bring to this film! The cinematography by Robert Richardson is brilliantly accomplished, the costumes by Sandy Powell are just right, the editing by Thelma Schoonmaker is seamless and the lovely score by Howard Shore is very sweet and touching. All of these artists will surely receive Oscar nominations as will Feretti, who seems to me at least, to be a lock for an Academy Award. It's the contributions of these supremely talented individuals along with Scorsese's confident and usual technically proficient direction that add so much to the enjoyment of this film.

So yes, Hugo is a superb film on a visual level, but it is also an enchanting story beautifully told by Scorsese that will enthrall a wide range of audiences. "They'd never seen anything like it before," Isabelle tells Hugo, when recalling the audience reaction to an early film of Mélies. No doubt, you'll be sharing a similar thought after viewing Hugo.

I can't wait to see it again!

P.S. One final note on the performance of Ben Kingsley as George Mélies. This is a touching, lovely, bittersweet turn by the great actor and one of his best. His characterization is one that carries a lot of emotional weight with it and Kingsley finds the perfect balance that helps this film find its grace and captivating appeal.

Nothing ventured, nothing gained

2011-11-30T15:01:00.000-08:00

J. Edgar is an overlong, ultra serious biography of J. Edgar Hoover, the man who ran the FBI with an iron fist for more than four decades. As it stands, this film would be a failure from any filmmaker, but as Clint Eastwood directed it, it has to be considered a major disappointment.

As you might expect from Eastwood, this is a handsome-looking film with outstanding production design, appropriately moody cinematography and impressive costume design. Eastwood has done a first-rate job recreating scenes from the 1930s through the early 1970s, but all of that is eye candy, given his plodding direction. Eastwood has always taken his time telling his stories and he does so here again (the movie is two hours and seventeen minutes long), but to little or no avail, as the story just doesn't have much dramatic tension to hold our interest.

Eastwood seems content merely recreating famous incidents in Hoover's life and to be sure, the careful analysis of the Lindbergh baby kidnapping makes for interesting viewing, especially with the subplot of Hoover lobbying Congress to make kidnapping a federal crime, so his bureau could take over the case and grab any potential headlines.

But many other sequences are merely filmed recreations (complete with some obvious CGIs) that serve merely as moments in this man's life. It's a little like flipping through a deck of cards - when you're finished, what did you accomplish? When you think about the way that Eastwood told the heartbreaking story of Japanese and American soldiers in Letters from Iwo Jima (2006), you can hardly believe this is the same filmmaker.

Yes, Leonardo DiCaprio is very good as Hoover (does he ever give a less than interesting performance?), although I preferred his turn in The Aviator (2004). I also liked the honest way that the film deals with the homosexual relationship between Hoover and Clyde Tolson (Armie Hammer), who was second in command to Hoover at the FBI for many years. Their penultimate scene together at a dinner at Tolson's home late in each other's life, where they express their feelings for each other, is sensitively written (Dustin Lance Black who authored the screenplay for Milk in 2008, performed those chores here) and directed and scored by Eastwood.

But truly interesting scenes like this one are too rare in this film. Eastwood and Black went for too much of an historical angle here, while a more pointed personal analysis would have been welcome. There's even a brief scene that answers the controversy of Hoover as a cross dresser. This could have been a much-talked about scene, but as it's presented in the film, it simply feels tacked on.

When I saw Gran Torino (2008), I thought to myself that this would have been the perfect closing act in Clint Eastwood's directorial career, as it summed up much of what he has been saying in his films for forty years. I hope I can change my mind soon and see one more great film from Eastwood, because he hasn't been in top form lately (last year's Hereafter was rather dull). This film, as serious and as well-intentioned as it may be, doesn't break any new ground and worse off, has Eastwood play it safe in his directorial choices. Given that, one wonders why Eastwood made the film in the first place, unless he was attracted to the private world of his main character. Whatever the reason, J Edgar is a rather uninspired film.

The Loss of a Musical Legend

2011-11-28T14:56:00.000-08:00

Uan Rasey (1921-2011)
Photo by Tony Gieske

Whenever a celebrated film director or actor dies, the authors of film blogs write their appropriate tributes. But it's rarely that way when a cinematographer, editor or other technician passes away. I'd like to remedy that with this post, as I note the recent death of Uan Rasey.

I realize that few of you reading this post have ever heard of Uan Rasey, but you have certainly heard him perform. Rasey played trumpet for hundreds - perhaps thousands - of films, with perhaps his most famous performances in the films An American in Paris (1951) and Chinatown (1974). If he only played on those two films, his reputation would be forever remembered, but add to that his performances on the soundtracks for such movies as Singin' in the Rain (1951) and Gigi (1958), when he was first chair trumpeter for the MGM orchestra as well as West Side Story (1961), My Fair Lady (1964) and Taxi Driver (1976) and you have a remarkable body of work.

Rasey, who taught himself how to play trumpet with the help of a $9 instruction booklet from Montgomery Ward, was also a celebrated teacher of trumpet. Among his most famous students were the jazz trumpeters Arturo Sandoval and Jack Shelton.

As I'm not a musician, I can only say so much in this tribute, so let's have his playing do the talking, so to speak. Here is his solo from Chinatown, as he plays the main theme, composed by the great Jerry Goldsmith.

I've read several descriptions of this performance by Rasey, with terms such as "sexy", "steamy" and "smoky" to describe his playing of this gorgeous theme. Call it what you want, it's certainly one of the most memorable solo trumpets I've ever heard in a film score!

Rasey passed away in late September of this year and as I mentioned earlier in this post, that news was largely ignored by film bloggers. Thankfully, we have the soundtracks of so many great films Uan Rasey performed on to recall his influence as one of the greatest trumpeters ever to work in Hollywood.

The Last Rites of Joe May

2011-11-25T06:49:00.000-08:00

I am rerunning an earlier review of The Last Rites of Joe May, which opens today (Friday, Nov. 25) at the Gene Siskel Film Center in Chicago for a one-week run.

You may have met someone like Joe May at one point in your life. He's a helluva guy, but don't tell him that- he thinks he's just a regular fella. He does the right thing, bottom line, even if his actions may get him in trouble. He's also one of the most memorable characters you'll see this year in film and you'll remember him for a long time, thanks to a dazzling performance by Dennis Farina.

The Last Rites of Joe May was written and directed by Joe Maggio, who also performed those tasks for Bitter Feast (2010) and Paper Covers Rock (2008) among others. For Last Rites, Maggio has created a character that we feel for from the start; in his sixties, Joe May is being released from the hospital after a seven-week battle with pneumonia. But apparently Joe forgot to tell his landlord, who thought he either died or moved away, so the landlord has thrown all of Joe's belongings away and has rented his apartment to a single mother named Jenny (Jamie Allman). She's not exactly doing great financially, as we see her pilfer the small orange juice containers that her patients at a nearby hospital don't consume. She's raising a young daughter named Angelina (Meredith Droeger), who never knew her father.

The individual stories of these three slowly start to intertwine, as Joe agrees to share the apartment with Jenny and Angelina, as he will pay part of the rent each month. Now that Joe has a place to stay again, he can go back to his old friends and try make a few extra bucks. He's been a small time crook, fencing watches and radios on the street, but in his heart, he believes he can truly make a lot of money, if only the right situation comes along.

Photo by Jay Silver

Meanwhile, we learn that Jenny has a boyfriend who beats her from time to time. When Joe sees him for the first time, he tells him to leave or he'll call the cops. Trouble is, he's a police detective, so there's little that Jenny or Joe can do to stop him. All Joe can do is try and comfort her, but that's not an easy thing for a rough and tumble guy like him. In one scene she asks him if he would hold her, to which Joe replies, "I don't think that's a good idea."

Joe however does start to look after Angelina, tucking her in bed at night and chatting with her at breakfast. She's thrilled to have a father figure in her life and she asks if Joe will have breakfast with her the next morning and the one after that. It's a simple scene, but a critical one in the film and it's one of several moving moments.

There are several factors as to why this film captures our attention from the first frame. Much of the credit goes to Maggio for his script, which has a honest ring to it and is never forced. Every character, from the three major players to the ones with small roles, talk just like you'd expect them to. This is a street drama at its most basic, taking places in the ethnic restaurants, alleyways and neighborhood bars of Chicago and it sounds just right. One other note about the script: Joe May swears a lot in this movie and he'll swear at anyone. It's not for shock value - it's just the way he's talked for most of his life and it's part of this character's charm as well as a good deal of the film's humor. There is one line that Joe May yells at a cabdriver (I won't give it away) that is one of the funniest lines I've heard in a film in years - you may fall out of your seat when you hear it!

The visuals are another reason why this film is so strong, so realistic. I've lived in Chicago my entire life and I love the look of this film. This is not about the lakefront or tall buildings - only the tops of skyscrapers are visible in a couple shots - but rather the snow-covered streets of Halsted Street in winter time. There's a cool, blue tone to the cinematography which fits the visuals perfectly and gives the film a bit of a bleak look. There are several marvelous shots here; the two I loved the most are the #8 bus on Halsted under a viaduct on a windswept snowy evening, while the other has Angelina and Joe swinging a pole around on their roof in order to scatter his pigeons in flight, as they are released from their coops. This last shot is quite hypnotic as well as being lovely to look at; it's also a tender moment between Joe and Angelina, as their affection for each other grows.

I've read, by the way, that Dennis Farina himself had a major influence in having this movie shot in Chicago. The film was originally scheduled to be shot in New York City, but Farina, a native Chicagoan, asked Maggio about doing it in his (Farina's) hometown. Once Maggio and his team scouted out some of Chicago neighborhoods, the decision was made to film in Chicago and a few minor script changes were made.

So a first-rate script and just-right visuals (as well as an impressive bare-bones original score by Lindsay Marcus) are among the strong points of The Last Rites of Joe May, but above all, it is the performance by Dennis Farina as the title character that ties everything together. I've always liked Farina for the honest emotions he displays in his roles - everything about his work has been just right. He looks perfect for the part with his thick grey hair and time-worn face and he finds a nice balance between quiet frustration and explosive bursts of temper. It is quite proper to use the cliché that he was born to play this part, but it's entirely accurate in this case. Dennis Farina is simply great as Joe May and for my money, it's the performance of his career.

Honestly written and acted, The Last Rites of Joe May is primarily a quiet film about a man who only wants to continue doing things as he's always done them. It is a wonderful piece of work and one that I highly recommend.

The Need for Journalism

2011-11-20T07:47:00.000-08:00

Page One: Inside the New York Times is an engaging, important documentary that is an inner look at how the editors and reporters at America's most famous newspaper are dealing with a vital question - is journalism, the kind of journalism that the Times and several of the country's best daily papers provide - still relevant in today's digital and electronic world?

Directed by Andrew Rossi, who applies a journalistic, fact-gathering approach, the film focuses on a few individuals that give the paper its essence today. One of those is David Carr, a former drug addict who turned his life around at the age of 31 and has become one of the paper's finest reporters. Carr has a unique sense of humor to say the least. He's self deprecating, but he's also ready to pounce on someone who makes fun of him or his paper. At times he comes across as a smart ass, know-it-all, but in the final analysis, he's very loyal to his friends and his bosses and is one helluva reporter and writer.

David Carr (l.) with Bruce Headlam, media desk editor

Another important character in this story is Brian Stelter, who was 22 years old when he was hired by the Times as a media reporter. Stelter, who constantly updates his Twitter account with news leads he assembles all day long, is the new face of journalism at the paper, someone who approaches his job in an entirely different direction than Carr and other investigative reporters. For Stelter, it's a question of why wouldn't a journalist be on Twitter, while for Carr, it's his belief that "Stelter was a robot assembled to destroy me."

It's this multidimensional way of journalism that is now standard operating procedure at the Times. Rossi argues that social media has - at least for the short term - saved the paper. The death of several excellent American newspapers is noted in the film and the question of could the New York Times be next is dealt with for much of the second half of this film. One television reporter notes how the paper's trading value is $3 per share, which is less than the cost of the Sunday edition. We also view scenes of a few employees - some of them with decades of experience at the paper, being let go as the managing editor had to make the tough call of which 100 employees would be eliminated in cost-cutting measures. Could the paper go out of business?

Given the ways that the public can access information these days, the answer to that question is certainly, yes, it could. To that end, we witness how the reporters and editors at the Times are doing everything they can to stay relevant; the online edition is the most read of its kind in the country and Carr notes how there are dozens of videos each week on this site, thus giving readers who prefer visuals to words their fix for facts and opinions.

The recent WikiLeaks situation is dissected in great detail in the film. The editors examine these documents and videos and ask themselves if these would indeed be harmful or not before they make the decision to publish them. One point worth noting here is that Rossi does not question the fact that the Times seemed to be a willing partner for Julian Assange, editor-in-chief of WikiLeaks, when they became his partner in crime, so to speak, by publishing these reports over the course of several weeks in late 2010. Whether you believe the paper was serving the public's need to know or thought that this was an improper use of journalism, it certainly seems that the editors at the Times made this determination based on staying relevant; as this news was being broadcast all over television and the internet, the decision makers at the paper clearly wanted to stay in the game and keep readers thinking about the need for the Times.

This aside, I recommend the film quite highly, especially for its look at how journalists do their job. One of the most absorbing sequences deals with Carr and how he breaks the news about the new management team at the Chicago Tribune. The new owner admitted he was not a newspaper man, but clearly a business man interested primarily in money, who then went ahead and hired a former radio general manager to run the paper. It was a disaster in the making which only became worse when Carr learned that several female employees complained of sexual harassment at their workplace.

Carr makes dozens of phone calls, gathers all the information, shares what he knows with his editor and gets the OK to write the story. He did his job magnificently - I still recall the day that story was issued and I emailed it to dozens of friends who lived in Chicago or once lived in Chicago. The details of the article were shocking, especially for a once-great paper such as the Tribune and within weeks, the management team resigned. Yes, print journalism still has the power to change things and when reporters like David Carr are given the freedom to do their job, the power of the printed word can be devastating.

We are left to wonder how long the New York Times will exist as we know it. Change has come to the paper and Rossi argues that this change has pumped new life into the publication and has certainly staved off its death knoll. But for how long?

All Me- Winfred Rembert

2011-11-03T13:01:00.000-07:00

Chain Gang - The Ditch, Winfred Rembert (2005)

All Me: The Life and Times of Winfred Rembert is an illuminating documentary about a black artist who lived through the racial strife of the south in the 1960s and who today creates strikingly original artworks that recall his own struggles as well as those of his friends and counterparts. In the process of this film, we meet a remarkable man who has gone from poverty to the status of a celebrated artisan, all the while remaining someone who has retained his simple country heritage.

The film is directed by Vivian Ducat, a native New Yorker, who has produced a number of films in England and in America over the past twenty years; these ranged from series episodes for the BBC to

an episode of The American Experience for PBS. In early 2010, she attended a show of Rembert's works at a gallery in New York, where she met the artist. Impressed by his craft as well as his storytelling ability, she decided to make a short film about him and soon afterward got the news that she would direct and produce a feature-length documentary on Rembert.

Ducat has made a highly entertaining film about Rembert and it's clear watching the film that she believes this is a truly special man whose life story needed to be chronicled. Rembert, now 65, grew up in the small rural town of Cuthbert, Georgia and was given away at birth to a great aunt. He spent much of his youth and early adulthood working in the local peanut and cotton fields and this time clearly meant a lot to him, as many of his works portray scenes of workers "toiling"- as he likes to describe it - at their work.

Rembert was impressed by the speeches he heard from Martin Luther King, Jr and decided to attend a civil rights demonstration; he was jailed for this and after escaping, he was then strung up by a local gang who were ready to kill him. This part of the film is told by Rembert in clear, stirring detail, as we see some of his works depicting this act.

He survived, but was forced to work on a chain gang for several years. While in prison, he drew scenes of his life's experiences and started to experiment with art on leather. Later on, he would make small pieces of jewelry and even a jacket for his children, who were the envy of all their friends when they wore these pieces of art. Encouraged by this, Rembert continued with his craft, eventually catching the attention of some influential individuals along the way who were able to help fund his studio work.

Chain Gang Picking Cotton (2004)

Rembert creates by starting with a drawing that he then reproduces on a leather canvas by numerous hand tools, among them a number of small hammers and picks. He then illustrates the canvas with dyes, as paint would crack on leather if folded. Along the way, Ducat includes several scenes of Rembert at work and it's fascinating to watch this unusual handiwork of the artist.

The director also includes a scene where Rembert speaks to college students about his experiences from decades past and about how ugly racial tensions were in the Deep South. It's interesting to see the reactions of the students, most of whom probably have never met anyone who has been a first-person witness to that time.

There are many scenes that focus on Cuthbert, as we see what the town looks like today and watch and listen to some of Rembert's boyhood friends. We also see what the artist's current life is like, as he lives near Yale University (where his first one-man show took place) in a simple neighborhood where he can roast a pig or play a little pick-up basketball with friends (he still has a few slick moves at his age!).

But it's small town Georgia that still means so much to Winfred Rembert and the film concludes with his art being moved from a gallery in New York City to a special show in Albany, GA, not far from Cuthbert. "Nothing compares to coming back home... I'm here and I'm somebody," the artist says.

His journey is complete and has a nice circular nature to it, from a poor background to a celebrated artist; from the simplicity of a humble town in Georgia to the rich interiors of a New York City gallery and finally back home again. All Me: The Life and Times of Winfred Rembert is a nicely detailed look at one special man's path in life, one that has a few more chapters to be written.

All Me: The Life and Times of Winfred Rembert won a silver plaque in the documentary category at the 2011 Chicago International Film Festival. The film's next showing will be on Saturday, November 12 at the Albany, GA Civil Rights Institute for the 50th anniversary celebration of the Albany, Georgia Movement.

My Best of the Fest - The Top Seven

2011-10-28T14:27:00.000-07:00

The 47th Chicago International Film Festival ended it fifteen-day run last week, but I'm still catching up on some of my reviews. Several of these will appear in the short run, but for now, here are notes on my favorite films from the fest (top seven in order of preference):

We Need To Talk About Kevin (UK) - director: Lynne Ramsay
A haunting, mesmerizing film about the relationship between a teen-aged boy and his parents. I love the way Ramsay slowly reveals the chilling details of the plot as well as the dreamlike manner of the flashbacks. This is a superbly directed film that might have been excessive in lesser hands. Tilda Swinton is brilliant as the mother who struggles to learn the strange behavior of her son.

Once Upon a Time in Anatolia (Turkey) - director: Nuri Bilge Ceylan
A visual treat with stunning cinematography by Gokhan Tiryaki, this is the story of a murder investigation that takes us through the remote landscapes of Turkey. The first half of this 150 minute work takes place entirely at night, often in very long shots with sounds of footsteps, car engines and clipped dialogue in the background, while the second half takes place during the day, as the search is finalized and we head back to town. Along the way, we watch in fascination as the police along with a prosecutor and doctor share their inner thoughts about the immediate work as well as their private lives. The length of this film is perfect - it is never slow moving - and lets us discover for ourselves what this world is all about. Co-Winner of the Grand Prix at Cannes.

Miss Bala (Mexico) - director: Gerado Naranjo
Director Naranjo tackles the subject of the drug wars in contemporary Mexico, basing this film upon a real-life incident of a young woman who was kidnapped and forced to deal with a vicious gang. This is a highly entertaining thriller that balances moments of brutal honesty (shootouts on local streets) as well as total artificiality (a beauty pageant the young woman enters) with equal aplomb. This is certain to fuel the discussion of the terrible tragedies that have been suffered by too many of Mexico's people.

Into The Abyss (Germany) - director: Werner Herzog
Herzog's outstanding documentary about the effects of a triple homicide on several individuals, ranging from the family of the victims to the police who investigated the crime to the convicted parties as well. Herzog was actually granted the right to interview one of the killers on death row, a mere eight days before his execution and this short sequence is one of the highlights of the film. Yet the most gripping interview may be with the woman whose mother and brother were victims of this senseless crime. Herzog is clearly against the death penalty, yet the film is not a cry to banish this punishment in America, but rather a beautifully balanced work that is dedicated to the victims. Gripping from start to finish.

The Kid With a Bike (Belgium) - director: Jean-Pierre and Luc Dardenne
Just under 90 minutes, this is a remarkably direct look at the life of an 11-year old boy who has been abandoned by his father. The young boy Cyril (Thomas Doret) rebels against adults, even the hairdresser Samantha (Cécile de France) who takes him in on weekends and helps restore his shattered psyche. The two leads are both gifted performers and the Dardennes' telling of this story is an enlightening look at the fears and pleasure of youth - and adults - as they mature in their understanding of life and each other. Co-Winner of the Grand Prix at Cannes.

Le Havre (Finland/France) - director: Ari Kaurismaki
A witty, sometimes droll, sometimes heartwarming fable about a middle-aged shoe shine who helps a young African refugee to freedom. Kaurismaki does not make speeches about the problem of refugees, but instead weaves a marvelous story about the kindness of humanity at large. Every character, even the smallest roles, are perfectly written and fleshed out by the actors. Winner of the Gold Hugo for Best Film at the Chicago International Film Festival.

The Last Rites of Joe May (USA) - director: Joe Maggio
A look at a proud, decent man in his 60s who is seeing his role in life diminish, but who wants to do one more great thing in his life. Dennis Farina portrays the title character and it's the performance of his life. Writer/director Maggio populates this sensitive and kindhearted film with honest characters in real-life moments, with scenes of simple dialogue about the people the characters deal with on an everyday basis. Along with his cinematographer Jay Silver, Maggio presents Chicago as a synthesis of neighborhoods filmed in bleak grays and blues during the chill of winter; there are no glossy skyscraper or lakefront images in this film. In the process, it's arguably the most visually honest film ever made in Chicago.

Other films I was impressed with include: All Me: The Life and Times of Winfred Rembert, a fascinating documentary about the unique art of a black man from rural Georgia who suffered through the racial strife of the 1960s; The Return of Joe Rich, a funny and intelligent look at the Chicago mob that unites today's wiseguys with those of decades past; Cairo 678, a nicely written piece about sexual harassment in modern Egypt and Wild Bill, a quirky and smart film about a father who has to care for his two teen-age sons after being away for several years in prison.

I'll get back to regular reviews with the next post. I want to take this opportunity to thank Kate McMillan and Brie Dorsey for their help in arranging several interviews with some of the directors of these films. They made my job a lot easier and more enjoyable!

Le Havre - Chicago International Film Festival

2011-10-18T18:56:00.000-07:00

Le Havre is a film that celebrates life and does so in a most charming, unusual tale that centers around a simple man who only wants to do the proper thing. Beautifully written and acted with honest performances, this is a film with impressive insight into the everyday feelings all of us encounter from time to time.

Set in the French port town of Le Havre that borders the English Channel, the film opens as Marcel (André Wilms), a middle-aged shoe shine, takes care of a customer at the train station. He notices that his wrist is handcuffed to his briefcase, so he suspects evil doing, but he knows better than to say anything. In a few seconds, the customer will encounter trouble, which allows Marcel a hilarious line which I won't give away here, but the offbeat tone of the film is firmly set in place.

Marcel once lived a Bohemian life in Paris as a writer, but middle age and marriage to an honest, devoted woman has given him focus not on the big picture, but rather on the small things in life, especially when it comes to devotion and friendliness. Not long after we meet Marcel, his paths cross with a teen-age boy named Idrissa from Africa who has landed in Le Havre as an illegal immigrant, along with 20 or so of his fellow countrymen and women. He is able to flee the police at the harbor and once Marcel sees this boy's plight, he knows only that he must help him.

Director Ari Kaurismaki from Finland has stated that the European cinema has not addressed the problem of refugees, many of whom are treated rather inhumanely. He admits he does not have the answer to this problem, but no matter - he has started the ball rolling by making this film.

As Marcel begins to assist the boy, his life is complicated when his wife Arletty has to be rushed to the hospital after suffering some severe pain in her mid-section. After Marcel leaves his wife's side under doctor's orders, Arletty learns of the seriousness of her condition - she has a malignant tumor. She begs the doctor not to tell her husband the whole truth, as she believes he will not be able to deal with this news. Though reluctant at first, the doctor agrees with Arletty and tells Marcel that her tumor is benign.

Marcel, thinking that his wife will recover completely, can now address the problem of the young boy, who wants to be reunited with his mother, a refugee in London. He was also supposed to land in London, but the cargo container he was on landed in Le Havre by mistake. "Computer error, probably," says an employee at the dock, a inhuman, bitterly ironic comment that speaks volumes about the treatment of these individuals in France and other countries. (The newspaper headlines, reporting on the discovery of 20 illegal refugees asks the question of the readers, "Is there a link to Al-Queda?").

I won't give any more plot details away, except to say that the police inspector (Jean-Pierre Daroussin in my favorite performance in the film) assigned to finding this refugee, has some surprises in store for Marcel and the boy. An authority figure, inspector Monet questions his role - and his emotions - in this battle between law and individual freedom.

I loved the way that Marcel deals with his neighbors who are grocers. While often broke, he usually has to pay for a loaf of bread or some vegetables on credit. But once these people discover that Marcel is working to deliver the boy's freedom, they forget past problems and help him in his cause.

It's this recognition of humanity along with some marvelously droll scenes that make Le Havre such an engaging film. Add to this the troubling situation that director Kaurismaki tackles with great subtlety and wit and you have a film that pleases on several levels.

Le Havre was awarded the Gold Hugo as the best film of the 47th Chicago International Film Festival. It will be shown at 5:45 on Wednesday, October 19th as part of the "Best of the Fest" evening.

Into the Abyss - Chicago International Film Festival

2011-10-17T05:07:00.001-07:00

Into the Abyss, the new documentary from Werner Herzog is an absorbing study of the people who were directly affected by a triple homicide that occurred in Conroe, Texas in the year 2000. While Herzog is clearly against the death penalty ("I don't have to like you," he tells the death row convict Michael Perry, pictured above, "but I don't believe in killing another man."), yet this is not a simple piece of work arguing for the abolishment of capital punishment. Rather it is a remarkable film that studies this event from many angles; each of the people interviewed is given their due and their remarks - as well as their emotions - combine to give us a sense of the complexities of life and the unforgettable finality of death.

Herzog, who we hear in his charming German accent, appears just off-screen in the filmed interviews. He opens the film with a short prologue, speaking with Rev. Richard Lopez, the prison chaplain. Lopez is filmed in a state cemetery, where those killed on death row will be buried if no family claims the body. The shot of the crosses that mark the graves of these individuals is a striking one- - the crosses only bear a series of numbers, which we are left to figure out.

Lopez at one point tells Herzog how he loves to spend time on the golf course and see the various animals, such as deer and squirrels, run around the landscape. "Tell me a story about a squirrel," Herzog asks and Lopez comes up with a very touching tale about how he saved the life of two squirrels by hitting the brake on his golf cart just seconds before he would have run over the animals. Lopez continues with his thoughts on life and death and actually starts to shed a few tears as he shares his thoughts. It's a unique moment in a film filled with many of them.

Along the way, Herzog interviews the criminals as well the relatives of the victims. The interview with Perry takes place on death row, only eight days before he was scheduled to die by lethal injection in 2010, a decade after the crime. Wide-eyed and surprisingly outgoing (he tells of going on a canoe trip in the Everglades when he was young), Perry maintains his innocence, saying he got mixed up with the wrong guy.

That guy is Jason Burkett (above photo), who felt sorry for Perry at one point and let him live in his trailer. Burkett, who was not given the death penalty, but instead a life sentence, comes across as a more serious person in his interview than Perry, whose aloofness is almost comical. Burkett also admits his guilt, while Perry does not.

Perhaps the most remarkable interview is with Lisa Stoulter-Balloun, whose mother and brother were two of the victims. At first glance, she is calm as she remembers these family members whom she clearly loved deeply. But as she reveals more of her life's experiences (which I will not get into here), she starts to lose her composure. Her story is terribly sad and her interview is remarkably gripping.

Other mesmerizing moments include interviews with the father of Burkett who is himself serving a 40-year sentence and a memorable sequence with a former head of the death row detail at the prison. This man oversaw 125 lethal injections and describes in great detail how his team would strap the killer on the gurney. He took no pleasure in this, as he was simply doing his job. Yet one day something happened that made him change his mind and he relates how he came to leave his position.

All of these interviews are handled with great dignity by Herzog, who asks questions that are always direct and sometimes quite powerful. Those interviewed are at ease with the director, which of course, yields many intimate moments. The film flows beautifully in its kaleidoscopic look at the ways many lives intertwine as a result of this crime.

This is an outstanding film that studies a subject most of us do not - or would rather not - discuss in great detail. There have been films made before about murderers and the victims, but few as elegantly incisive as Into The Abyss.

Into The Abyss will be shown at the Chicago International Film Festival at 6:15 PM on October 18.

Hugo Awards - Chicago International Film Festival

2011-10-16T10:22:00.000-07:00

The Hugo Awards for the best films of the 47th Chicago International Film Festival have been announced. Here is a brief list:

Le Havre

International Feature Film Competition

Gold Hugo to Le Havre (Finland/France) - director Ari Kaurismaki

Silver Hugo to Cairo 678 (Egypt)

Silver Hugo for Best Actress to Olivia Colman in Tyrannosaur (UK)

Silver Hugo for Best Actor to Maged El Kedwany in Cairo 678

Silver Hugo for Best Screenplay to Joshua Marston and Andamion Murataj for The Forgiveness of Blood (US/Albania)

New Directors Competition

Gold Hugo to The Good Son (Finland) - director Zaida Bergroth

Silver Hugo to Volcano (Iceland/Denmark) - director Runar Runarsson

Founder's Award - presented to that one film across all categories that captures the spirit of the Chicago International Film Festival for its unique and innovative approach to the art of the moving image. This year's Founder's Award goes to The Artist (France)

The Artist

An Evening with Haskell Wexler - Chicago International Film Festival

2011-10-15T10:06:00.000-07:00

Haskell Wexler (Photo ©Tom Hyland)

It isn't often one gets to meet a legend, but that's exactly what took place when I joined several dozen other cinema enthusiasts at the Chicago International Film Festival this past Thursday, as we gathered to listen to Haskell Wexler talk about his lengthy career in film.

For those readers not familiar with his name, Wexler has made a name for himself first and foremost as one of the greatest cinematographers to ever work in Hollywood. A two-time Academy Award winner (Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf, 1966 and Bound For Glory, 1976), he was named as one of the ten most influential cinematographers of all time by the members of the International Cinematographers Guild. Wexler has also made a name for himself as a director, most notably for Medium Cool, shot during the riots at the 1968 Democratic Convention in Chicago. Finally, he has been a political acitivist for decades, rallying out against government policies he believed were wrong.

Wexler was born in Chicago in 1922, so this was a fitting return home for this great craftsman. The audience consisted of film lovers such as I who have followed his work for decades as well as many beginning filmmakers from nearby Columbia College; these students in their 20s, know Wexler from his work, but are too young to recall the times in which he embraced his craft. Wexler also acknowledged a few in the crowd from Francis Parker school, which he attended as a teen.

The evening stated with a montage of film clips, from a little seen documentary called The Bus, about the 1963 civil rights march on Washington, D.C to One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest (he shot most of the film, but was replaced before completion) to Latino, a 1985 film he directed. Several other short film clips were also shown at various moments, interspersed with Wexler's responses to questions from the audience.

One audience member asked Wexler if he preferred working on feature films or documentaries. While he replied that it all depended on the project, he did say that "With a documentary, you are closer to being its creator." This immediately led into his thoughts on the current protests being held in several cities across the country (Occupy Wall Street). "Why do we live in a sense of denial? We don't want to respond to things." Wexler mentioned "the human connection," adding, "We all want the same things and we are human."

The Thomas Crown Affair

Wexler talked about specific technique in his films, from the camera spinning around Steve McQueen and Faye Dunaway after the chess game in The Thomas Crown Affair (the camera was on a circular track that ringed the two actors) to photographing Liz Taylor in Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf ("I made Liz Taylor look pretty good for the part.") to his use of the Steadicam in 1976s Bound for Glory, which was the first ever implementation of that technology in a feature film.

He also recalled some wonderful stories about Hollywood. When he won his first Oscar for Virginia Woolf, he thought to himself as he was walking to the stage that this might be the only time he could speak to millions of people. This was in the spring of 1967 as the hippie movement and anti Vietnam war protests were just starting to make their marks. Wexler in his acceptance speech said, "I hope we can use our art for peace and love." Sounds innocent enough, but he mentioned that soon afterwards, several members of the Academy asked him why he used those "revolutionary" words at the ceremony. Apparently, Wexler opined, those two words are dangerous to a lot of people!

He also told the story of how actress Louise Fletcher on the set of Cuckoo's Nest, wanted to know why Haskell had talked about "her fat face." Wexler was puzzled and told Fletcher that he had never said "her fat face" and besides, how could she hear him as he was across the set at the time, speaking quietly to an assistant.

"I read lips," was Fletcher's response; indeed she does as her parents were both deaf (upon winning the Oscar as Best Actress for this film, she thanked her parents in sign language). Wexler told her, "I said 'your flat face.'", a reference to flat lighting, when all of her face is equally lit. This story brought down the house!

Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf

At 89, Haskell Wexler is full of life, humor, wit and plenty of opinions. Toward the end of the evening, one young filmmaking student asked him what advice he would give to someone who is getting started in the business. Wexler first told him that he should have another source of income, but then gave a more direct answer, saying, "You have to have a life. Don't just watch other people's movies and television shows." He also told the students that at the end of the day, this is a business. "You have to shoot what they tell you to shoot." He added one final point; "Good shooters just don't go out and get what they want. I want what I get."

One final insight into Haskell Wexler's life from this wonderful evening. Commenting on his outspoken political beliefs as well as his choice of films on which he has worked, he commented, "I don't really know my motives. Sometimes I blame it on my mother. My mother told me to be a nice guy."

The Return of Joe Rich - Chicago International Film Festival

2011-10-13T07:03:00.000-07:00

Joe Rich is heading back to Chicago, his home town. His job was outsourced to a foreign country, he's three months behind on his house payments; needless to say, he's not happy. He knows however that his people are there for him in Chicago, so he can find a new lease on life. For Joe, that means looking up his Uncle Dom, who just happens to be an integral part of the Chicago mob.

This is the premise of a wonderfully entertaining film called The Return of Joe Rich, written and directed by Sam Auster. A native of Chicago, Auster has made a film about Italian gangsters that doesn't settle for the usual stereotypes. He also wisely decided that he didn't want this to be another Goodfellas or an episode of The Sopranos, as that would entail a big budget and most likely, lots of murders. It's just not that kind of film.

It is an inventive film about the mob for many reasons. One of the signatures of this movie are filmed interviews with ten former members of the Chicago mob. These "Chicago guys" - all between the ages of 75 and 88, spoke with Auster about their roles as gangsters in decades past. One of the themes that emerges in these interviews is that many of these individuals went into this business out of necessity, as they couldn't find a job. Times were tough back then, so they went where they could find work, even if that work wasn't pleasurable. "When people are in an economic depressed state, they help themselves," one of the guys states.

This is Joe Rich's situation as well. He goes back home to Chicago, "where you feel like you belong," and looks up his Uncle Dom. One other thing about Joe Rich -that's not his real name. His given name is Joseph Neiderman, but as he's starting a new life, he needs a new name. Joe Rich will be his mob name, a name that's cool. Joe is cool, from the way he dresses to the way he talks and even the way he moonwalks (this scene is hilarious!).

He is especially cool as portrayed by Sam Witwer, a native of Glenview, a northern suburb of Chicago. Witwer has a confidence and an impressive physical manner about him that's just right for this part. He's also got great comic timing and a sense of persistence - the guy is gonna get what he wants, whether that's a job with the outfit or the woman he loves. Witwer is front and center most of the film and he holds his own with some very experienced performers.

His Uncle Dom is portrayed by Armand Assante, a engaging actor who just oozes charisma in this role, as he has done so often in the past. He plays Uncle Dom with a graceful swagger - he's in charge, but he doesn't have to prove it to anyone. Unless of course, someone crosses him. Midway through the film, Uncle Dom is put in a situation where he no longer has the upper hand and he explodes with a violent, almost psychotic rage. Assante commands the screen during these scenes.

But for me, Assante's best scene (and one of the critical moments of the film) is when Joe visits him in a kitchen in a neighborhood restaurant in Elmwood Park, west of Chicago (any Chicago native knows about the Italian population of Elmwood Park) and tells Dom that he wants to be a part of "his business." Assante plays dumb, knowing full well what Joe is after, but Joe persists and Dom finally tells him the reality of the situation- this is a violent job and it's probably one you can't handle. We see Dom's first job with the outfit from decades ago and it's handled with a nice mixture of shock and humor all at once. We hear Dom quietly tell Joe what he'll have to do and it's in this brief moment that Assante shines, as he reminisces about the past.

I can't forget Talia Shire who plays Gloria Neiderman, Joe's mother. She portrays a bit of a dominating monster here (ok, more than a bit) and she's just wonderful. She's also got two or three terrific lines of dialogue I won't repeat here. It's so great to see Shire have so much fun with this role. (One final role worth noting is Chicagoan Tim Kazurinsky as one of Dom's no-so-important assistants. It's a small part, but Kazurinsky nails it.)

Auster directs beautifully, finding a lot of humor and irony in the script. There's a running joke about Gloria's meatballs, which are neatly used as a visual wipe in the editing of several scenes and at the end, Auster repeats this same rolling visual with a bagel. He loves his hometown, especially the scenes with food, whether at Gloria's house or in the old world Italian restaurants. Together with his director of photography Lance Catania, Auster gives us a variety of looks, from the earth tones of the wooded county preserves to the chilly hues of a deserted warehouse.

Auster's script is also impressive, loaded with the usual obscenities (usual for a mob film, that is) as well as some great insights into why these individuals act the way they do. They may perform some terrible deeds, but at the end of the day, they are driven by an unshakeable sense of honor. This was true for the "Chicago guys" forty and fifty years ago and it's true with the new wiseguys of today.

The Return of Joe Rich is a unique film that takes some chances. After all the films about Italian gangsters in America over the past forty years, isn't that a beautiful thing?

The Return of Joe Rich will be shown at the Chicago International Film Festival on Thursday, Oct. 13 at 2:30 PM.

My Week with Marilyn - Chicago International Film Festival

2011-10-11T19:02:00.000-07:00

My Week with Marilyn is a crowd-pleaser if there ever was one. Combining lush production values with a story about two of the 20th century's most famous movie stars, this is an entertaining film that will appeal to a wide audience. I think it's a well made, well-intentioned film to be sure, but one that looks better than it actually plays.

Like last year's Oscar-winning The King's Speech, this film is about a little-known incident involving famous people in Britain. It's based on two books by Colin Clark, who wrote a diary during his time on the production of the 1956 film The Prince and the Showgirl. Laurence Olivier starred and directed that film and fought to have Marilyn Monroe as his co-star. At that juncture, Monroe was at the height of her popularity both for her incredible sexiness as well as her success at the box office.

At that time, Monroe had just married husband number 3, the famed playwright Arthur Miller. He accompanies Marilyn after being cleared of charges that he was a Communist; that allowed him to leave the United States and be there for Marilyn during the filming of her new movie.

However all is not well once production begins. Monroe has her acting coach (Zoe Wanamaker) to help her find her character, as she puts it in the film. This slows things down and Olivier is adamant that Monroe only needs to act, as the "character is on the page." Combine that with her too-often practice of showing up late to the set and Olivier runs out of patience quite soon.

Enter Colin Clark (Eddie Redmayne), a 23-year old from wealth who persevered in his battle to get hired by Laurence Olivier's production company. Clark wanted to show his parents that he could get by on his own and decided to enter the film world (he is shown in his youth early on in the film attending the cinema as a young boy). His job on the production of Prince and the Showgirl isn't much really - only a third assistant director, which was basically a go-fer on the set, but for him, it's an opportunity to work with movie stars.

As Olivier becomes more frustrated with Monroe's lack of professionalism, she becomes more withdrawn and begins to drink and take pills. Her husband can't take her behavior - "she's devouring me"- he tells Olivier and he leaves England to head back home to America to see his children. This only makes Monroe more insecure as well as lonely, so she finally turns to Clark for comfort. She is 30 at this time and Clark is a younger man in a world filled with older men who want to use Marilyn for their purposes.

The friendship that Monroe and Clark is the foundation of this movie. Clark has been dating a young woman from the wardrobe department, but once Marilyn turns to him, he can think of nothing else but this sizzling movie star. One day, they leave the set and the house she is staying at and go for a journey on their own. They do any number of things, from touring Windsor Castle to seeing the campus at Eton to taking a skinny dip in a stream in the woods. This sequence starts out nicely and it certainly is pretty to look at, but by the end, it's just there as a diversion, almost like a travel commercial.

What carries this film are two marvelous performances, that of Michelle Williams as Monroe and Kenneth Branagh as Olivier. It must be a terribly daunting task for any actress to portray the movie's most famous sex goddess who was also a terribly shy and introverted young woman. Williams of course has the looks to take on this role, but she also has the energy and charm to pull of this assignment as well. It is said in the film that when she was right, "you couldn't take your eyes off her." The same can be said of Williams' performance- she's simply wonderful.

While Williams will naturally receive most of the attention for this film, Kenneth Branagh deserves just as much credit. He absolutely has all of Olivier's speech patterns and nervous tics down, but his performance is much more than mimicry. He wonderfully and very subtly captures the great actor's range of emotions toward Monroe, from anger and frustration with her work habits to wonder and envy for her performance on screen. I didn't even recognize Branagh in this role - he simply disappears into the character of Olivier.

High marks also to cinematographer Ben Smithard for his lovely, deeply saturated cinematography, in which he clearly tried to replicate the look of Technicolor in the 1950s (he has succeeded extremely well); he is especially good with the lighting of Williams' face, as he captures the glow of Monroe's aura.

So while this is a pleasing, watchable film, my complaint is that this was made with a big audience as well as multiple Oscar nominations in mind. The film is just a bit too pretty and round, especially with the direction of Simon Curtis who definitely plays it safe. Much of the film is all about recreating scenes from actual life and while that was also the basis of The King's Speech, for me that film had much more of a sense of humor as well as heart.

Maybe the creators of My Week with Marilyn knew they had a winning formula, so they stayed on the straight and narrow. Yes, I like the film, but I wish it had taken a few more detours along the way.

My Week with Marilyn will be shown at the Chicago International Film Festival on Wednesday, October 12 at 8:00 PM. It opens nationally on Friday, November 4.

The Last Rites of Joe May - Chicago Film Festival

2011-10-11T05:44:00.000-07:00

Photo by Jay Silver

Chicago Film Festival - "Wild Bill" - "The Whisperer in Darkness"

2011-10-09T18:11:00.000-07:00

Two capsule reviews of films to play at the Chicago International Film Festival: Wild Bill and The Whisperer in Darkness.

Wild Bill - director: Dexter Fletcher (UK) - This little film has a big heart along with some clever writing, sincere performances and plenty of amusing moments. It may be a little uneven at times, but I think it's entertaining and funny enough to find a good-sized audience.

Set in London's West End, the film is about a character named Bill Hayward, who is being released on parole after serving eight years on drug-related charges. He's got two sons at home, 16 year-old Dean (Will Poulter) and 11 year-old Jimmy (Sammy Williams) who are not exactly warm with their welcome. Their mother abandoned them, so they haven't exactly had a wonderful family life.

Bill doesn't think he has to do much when he returns home, but child support has other ideas. Will Bill turn his life around and create a good environment for his two sons? It turns out he not only has to clean his living quarters, but also win over the love of his older son as well as rid his younger son's drug-running occupation.

Wild Bill is the first film directed by British actor Dexter Fletcher (he also co-wrote the screenplay) and he's chosen a quirky tone, constantly shifting back and forth between the myriad of little stories lived by all the film's characters. It is a bit unsettling at first, but give it a chance, as the major plot lines clear up and the film becomes not only much easier to follow, but also becomes quite funny and charming.

And how can you not like a film with the Eddy Grant song "Do You Feel My Love" playing under the closing credits?

Wild Bill will be shown at the Chicago International Film Festival on Tuesday, October 11 at 8:15 PM and on Wednesday, October 12 at 6:10 PM.

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The Whisperer in Darkness - director: Sean Branney (USA) - Neat poster, eh? Well, this is the only thing I like about this film, which is dreadful on just about every level.

Based on a 1931 short story by H.P. Lovecraft, Whisperer is about extra terrestrials that have landed on a farm in a small town in Vermont (are there any big towns in Vermont)? The news is reported at a prestigious, but mythical Eastern university named Miskatonic. A folklore professor named Albert Wilmarth (Matt Foyer) doubts this matter, so heads to the farm in Vermont to investigate this situation. Believe it or not, strange things happen once he gets there!

The filmmakers wanted to create the feel of the 1930s horror films here, but they have failed miserably. Hey, just because you film it in black and white, that doesn't mean it has much in common with classics such as Frankenstein or Dracula, two films the creators here clearly love. Everything is thrown in our face and director Branney underlines everything. He really has no concern for the audience's intellect, as he explains everything in his direction - just in case you couldn't figure it out from the overwrought script, co-authored by Branney and Andrew Leman.

The acting across the board is second and third-rate, with the worst performance given by Foyer, who has at most two or three facial expressions; most of the time it's one, a stupid scowl of disapproval. Other actors speak verrrry slowly and often use pregnant pauses when delivering a line, such as "his mail has been... interfered with." It's all overdone - all the time.

Then there's the musical score by Troy Sterling Nies, which is a blatant ripoff of the great Bernard Herrmann, who though best known for his work with Alfred Hitchcock, also wrote some of the finest scores ever composed for sc-fi or horror films (Fahrenheit 451, The Day the Earth Stood Still, et al). I'm sure Nies thinks he's created an hommage here, but his work is not as complex or as clever as Herrmann's. So we get the brooding strings and ominous French horns and cellos that signal danger at many moments in the film. Make that just about every moment in the film, as this is wall-to-wall music that becomes irritating from almost the first frame.

I'm guessing that the filmmakers wanted to create a camp classic with Whisperer, but this isn't entertaining enough to classify as camp. It is instead pompous, poorly executed and lacking in any wit whatsoever. As I had to review this, I watched the entire film, but believe me, there's nothing worth sticking around for- this is a truly bad film.

The Whisperer in Darkness will be shown at the Chicago International Film Festival on Tuesday, October 11 at 10:15 PM and on Wednesday, October 12 at 9:45 PM.

Chicago Film Festival - "Take Me Home"

2011-10-07T18:24:00.000-07:00

Over the years, there have been hundreds of films from Hollywood and many other corners of the cinematic globe that have been about two souls that never met, but somehow were meant for each other. Film makers around the world know #1) that opposites attract and #2), audiences love to see stories with this theme.

The latest in this category is Take Me Home, written and directed by Sam Jaeger (one of the stars of the television series Parenthood); he also stars in the movie with his wife Amber. This is a charming work, one that features smart dialogue and down to earth people. It does get a bit cute at times, but overall, this is an enjoyable film that is a worthwhile addition to the collection of the will-they-or-won't-they-get together movies.

The film's premise is a simple one. Thom (Sam Jaeger) has been a bit of a bust in his professional life in New York City and in an effort to make some extra money, drives an unlicensed cab he bought at auction. While that helps his situation a bit, he still can't pay the rent and one day he finds that his landlord has thrown all of his possessions out of the apartment out into the hallway. Sensing that he can't go any lower, he gets in his cab that evening and seeks some fares - and perhaps an answer to his prayers.

At the very moment that Thom is being evicted from his place, Claire (Amber Jaeger), a professional business woman who works for a non-profit organization, has an argument with her husband, whom she suspects of cheating on her. That is only the start of the bad news for her, as she soon receives a phone call informing her that her father in California has suffered a heart attack. Stunned and without any real focus in her life, she heads out of her office down to the street and flags a cab - which, of course, is the one Thom is driving.

Her request to Thom is simple - drive, don't worry about where, just drive. She can't handle all the bad news at the moment and she needs to be alone with her thoughts. Thom wants to get a handle on her situation, but he knows better, so keeps his mouth shut and does exactly what he's told - he drives. In fact, he drives so far that the next morning, they wind up in the middle of Pennsylvania!

Claire needs to get to California to see her father, but Thom doesn't know why, so when she tells him her proposed destination, he balks at this, until she tells him she will pay him a total of $1000 a day, plus room and board. Thom agrees and it's off on their cross-country tour.

Along the way, Thom and Claire learn about each other and the deceptions in their lives. At first, it's man versus woman, but ultimately as the journey goes sour and they run short on money, they turn to basic survival. One of the most clever sequences takes place when they pull up the cab at the airport in Omaha to pick up fares. They charge one passenger $48 for the adventurous journey to his house, but when he complains that it's normally $25, that's what they accept. They work this scheme for a little while longer and pick up some gas and food money, but they need to move on.

Another scene that works quite well takes place after Claire decides to take over the wheel for one evening. I won't give any plot details away here, but the location at which they wind up is one that forces them to look at who they are, what they are doing and ultimately, what each one is running away from. This is a critical scene in the film that is quite well written and nicely directed.

If there were more scenes such as this, I would have given a strong recommendation to Take Me Home. However, as I mentioned earlier, the film does play cute from time to time, which adds little to the overall qualities of this work. The characters are nicely defined and portrayed, but there are too many predictable scenes, as when they meet Thom's parents. How we meet them is a surprise, but as the scene plays out, it just doesn't have the uniqueness of other moments in the film.

However, there are enough well-written scenes and enough light comic moments to make the film an enjoyable and pleasant experience. Take Me Home works on the surface level - take Claire home to see her father, but it also is a journey home for both Thom and Claire - who are they trying to be at the end of the day? That, in reality, is a more important journey.

P.S. I also want to applaud Sam Jaeger for resisting the urge to go for cheap humor. Over the past few years, I've seen too many Hollywood films (mostly on planes, which is where they deserve) that seem to want to please only the most base of tastes. These films make fun of people, sometimes in a light manner, but too often in a mean way. I just don't think this shows any sophistication on the part of the filmmakers.

Sam Jaeger has written a screenplay that respects its characters as well as the meaning of family and friendship. Those emotions will never go out of fashion.

Take Me Home will be shown at the Chicago International Film Festival at 8:00 PM on Saturday, October 8 and at 2:15 on Friday, October 14.

Chicago Film Festival - "Miss Bala"

2011-10-05T16:50:00.000-07:00

One of the ways in which I judge a film's success is as I'm watching it for the first time, I think to myself that I want to see this work again and I want to see it soon. By that token alone, Miss Bala is a triumph.

I'll have a full review of this film down the road, but a few words for now. Directed by Gerardo Naranjo, this is a devastating look at the drug wars that have been dominant in Mexico over the past decade. The story involves a young woman named Laura Guerrero (Stephanie Sigman) who lives in Tiujana and dreams of winning the local Miss Baja beauty pageant. She enters the competition, wearing the one nice dress she owns and almost instantly her life is turned upside down, when a terrible bloodbath takes place at a local nightclub at which she is present. A few hitmen from a notorious local drug gang go on a shooting spree and Laura is discovered hiding to stay out of the line of fire. From that moment on, her life is forever intertwined with this gang.

I won't go into too many more details at the present, but suffice it to say that Laura's journey is full of shocking twist and turns. Naranjo (who also co-wrote the script) does a masterful job at keeping his camera in tight, letting the viewer experience Laura's nightmare. The director displays a great talent for giving us many details, so the shocking developments of this story are not played for thrills, but rather are integral to the madness Laura must endure.

Miss Bala (which translates as Miss Bullet) is a beautifully crafted work that gives us a moral center - a young woman who only wants to rise above her plain life - in a world that has gone to hell. Narnajo has stated that one of his primary goals with this film was "to create images that would recreate the smell of violence and turn them into an artistic piece, with a keen spirit." He has succeeded brilliantly.

Miss Bala will be shown at the Chicago International Film Festival at 8:00 PM on Saturday, October 8 and at 8:35 PM on Monday, October 10. It will open in New York on Friday, October 14.

A Canana/Fox International Production, Miss Bala has been selected as Mexico's entrant in the Academy Award competition for Best Foreign Language Film.

Covering the Chicago International Film Festival

2011-10-04T15:43:00.000-07:00

The 47th Chicago International Film Festival opens this Thursday, October 6 and runs through Oct. 20. I've got a media pass and will begin to see my first films of the festival at special media screenings starting on the 5th.

There are a number of films I'm looking forward to seeing, most notably A Dangerous Method from David Cronenberg, Into The Abyss from Werner Herzog and The Last Rites of Joe May, shot in Chicago and starring Chicago native Dennis Farina and directed by Joe Maggio.

I'm hearing some great things about several movies at the festival representing many countries around the globe. These include Miss Bala from Mexico, Kid With a Bike (Belgium) and Sleeping Beauty (Australia) to name only three.

There will be a number of filmmakers present during the festival and I'll do my best to interview a director or two. I'm really looking forward to the event with Haskell Wexler, one of the greatest cinematographers to ever work in Hollywood - he won two Academy Awards - and also an influential director, best known for Medium Cool (1968).

I'll get my first post up in a day or two and will update this blog quite often during the next two weeks, as I watch the newest releases from some of the world's finest filmmakers.

The Ups and Downs of Baseball - and Life

2011-09-23T18:54:00.000-07:00

Major league baseball players will tell you that over the course of a six-month, 162-game schedule, it is critical for them to maintain an even keel. To get too down over a tough loss or too exultant after a last-inning win is counter productive to a season's success. I think it's important to remember that as you watch Moneyball, a film about the unique journey of a baseball official who tries to achieve success in a very unorthodox manner.

I mention this as Moneyball is not one of those old-fashioned baseball movies where we worry about the last pitch in the bottom of the ninth and whether the home team will be the victors. Now the movie does open with a scene like that, as we see the 2001 Oakland A's try to beat the New York Yankees in the American League Division Series. In that best-of-five matchup, the A's had won the first two games in New York, but them proceeded to lose the next two at home. The climactic game saw the A's take an early lead, but were unable to hold off the Yankees.

An on-screen title tells us one of the main subplots - this was an A's team with a total payroll of 39 million versus 114 million for the Yankees. We then meet Billy Beane (Brad Pitt) the A's general manager in an off-season meeting with his owner, as he pleads for more money to keep the A's competitive with the Yankees and other clubs. He is turned down and is told to find the best players possible with the money they have.

Thus Beane has to reinvent the A's - and himself. He does this by hiring a fresh-faced kid named Peter Brand (nicely played by Jonah Hill) with an economics degree from Yale who has a thing for finding players with the highest OBP (on-base percentage). His reasoning is that the more a player gets on base - even if it is achieved via a base on balls - the better a chance of scoring and of course, the more runs the better the chance of winning.

It's this OPB that is tantamount to a player's value in this new way of rating baseball players and in many cases, it means forgetting their limitations due to age, arm problems or fielding woes. There's a smartly written scene with Beane telling his army of scouts in a meeting in the stadium that their way of thinking is old-fashioned and not what he wants to hear.

Beane and Brand assemble their team according to a complicated formula of statistics and while it would help a bit to be a baseball fan, it's not necessary. At first, the formula doesn't work, as the A's fall six games under .500 after just 46 games. But wait, this is a long season and things can turn around. Of course, as the B&B boys have assembled a team according to their way of thinking, they can only see the true results if these players are in the lineup. And several of them are not, as manager Art Howe (Philip Seymour Hoffman) starts players he believes are better all-around performers. Beane's response to this? Trade those players that Howe starts so he will have to insert Beane's choices in the lineup.

It's this story of how Beane is obsessed with winning with this new approach that is at the heart of the film. There are some great real-game clips from the 2002 season inserted from time to time, but this is not a story of winning and losing, at least as far as the regular season. "If we don't win our last game, it doesn't matter," Beane tells Brand. The championship is something that is out there for only one team in the major leagues and Beane in this film has to live with the fact that although his A's won more than 100 games two seasons in a row (2001 and 2002), they didn't win their opening playoff round, much less the ultimate goal, the World Series.

This is a smart screenplay, written by Aaron Sorkin (Oscar winner for The Social Network) and Steven Zaillian (Oscar winner for Schindler's List), based on the book by Michael Lewis and a story by Stan Chervin. There are some very funny lines, but above all, the screenplay focuses on Beane and his personal drive. There are some nice flashback sequences, as we learn that Beane was a potential superstar who signed a big-league contract with the New York Mets, choosing that over a four year scholarship to Stanford. Beane was supposed to be a no-brainer, a truly great player, but it just didn't work out. Now he's a general manager and surely his mission in his current job is to erase the stigma of a failed career as a player.

Brad Pitt is first-rate as Beane, delivering a passionate, but understated performance. He was nominated for an Academy Award a few years ago for Benjamin Button, but I believe this is a superior performance. He's in almost every scene and it's his facial expressions and subtle delivery that keeps this movie engaging even in the rare off-key moments, where things become a bit too laid back.

Bennett Miller (Capote) directed and has the good sense to not trick things up or get overly sentimental, as the story is a strong one. I did love the way he filmed one game in particular - the one where the 2002 A's were going for the all-time American leagues record of 20 wins in a row. Miller films this partly in reality, with the Oakland crowd cheering wildly for their team and partly in hyper reality, as he shuts off the crowd noises and lets us watch key moments in almost complete silence, with only the soft tones of music by Mychael Danna on the soundtrack (this is a subtle and very effective score). It's an eerie effect and it adds to the bigger meaning of this story.

It's so nice to see a character study in today's era where special effects mean so much, at least in terms of box office. If Moneyball is a success at the turnstiles, it's because the public identifies with someone who realizes that maintaining a vision - even when it's easier to change courses - is what identifies an individual. Don't get too up or too down - just stay the course. Baseball - and life - are long journeys.

The Best American Films of 1974

2011-08-29T12:17:00.000-07:00

Chinatown

Every now and then, certain years have been remembered for the sheer number of excellent films released during those particular twelve months. Certainly the most celebrated year for Hollywood has been 1939, with films such as Stagecoach; Mr. Smith Goes to Washington; Ninotchka; Of Mice and Men; Wuthering Heights and Gone With the Wind gracing screens that year.

1962 was another memorable year, featuring The Manchurian Candidate; To Kill a Mockingbird; The Days of Wine and Roses; Lawrence of Arabia; The Miracle Worker; Birdman of Alcatraz and Freud. (Think of the great performances that year, from Peter O'Toole in Lawrence to Burt Lancaster and Telly Savalas in Birdman to Jack Lemmon and Lee Remick in Wine and Roses to the Oscar winning turns of Gregory Peck in Mockingbird and Anne Bancroft in Miracle - a study of these performances would makes for a stimulating article.)

In this post, I want to focus on 1974, which featured a remarkable number of accomplished films. That was a particularly meaningful year for me, as I was 18 and had graduated from high school and entered college in the fall. I was seeing more movies all the time and what wonderful cinema I was able to experience that year! I've seen all of these films again recently - some for the first time since their original runs in theaters - and they have all held up extremely well. Some of these films are among the finest I have ever seen - so here's to 1974, a truly great year for American cinema.

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Chinatown (Roman Polanski)
Polanski's masterpiece, a work that continued his theme of evil emerging in everyday surroundings. Working with Robert Towne's brilliant original script, Polanski focuses on how helpless private eye J.J. Gittes (Jack Nicholson, in one of his most sublime performances) is while investigating curious activities at the Los Angeles Water Department of the late 1930s. John Huston plays a charming, but ruthless villian who reminds Gittes that "most people never have to face the fact that at the right time and the right place, they're capable of anything." All any of us can do in a world such as this, Polanski seems to be saying, is be aware that evil exists, so accept that fact and deal with it.

Polanski's contributors were clearly inspired by this film, as evidenced by the work of several key individuals, including John Alonzo with his remarkably lush cinematography, Sam O'Steen with his seamless editing, Richard Sylbert for his extraordinary production design, Anthea Sylbert for her memorable costumes and Jerry Goldsmith for his marvelous score, which is highlighted by one of his most hauntingly beautiful themes. This is a great film that has stood the test of time!

The Conversation (Francis Ford Coppola)
One of Coppola's two or three finest works (along with Apocalypse Now and Godfather Part ll -see below), this is a chilling film about several themes, including Big Brother as well as the loss of innocence. Gene Hackman plays Harry Caul, an expert sound recorder and wiretapper, who is assigned to record a conversation between a man and a woman on a busy San Francisco street in the middle of the day. The opening scene, showing the technical difficulties of accomplishing this task, is beautifully directed and edited (the editing and sound production were brilliantly handled by Walter Murch). When Caul finally edits the tapes and assembles the conversation, he is shocked to hear of a possible murder, which brings back unpleasant memories for him.

Coppola told me in an interview more than a decade ago, that of all the films he has made, this is his favorite, largely because he wrote the film. Like Gittes in Chinatown, Caul is helpless here, as a murder takes place, giving him pause to wonder how responsible he is for this crime. The final scene in which he tears apart his apartment to find a bug that he believes is present to record his remarks (the bugger being bugged), is as mesmerizing an image as any in Coppola's work.

The Godfather, Part ll (Coppola)
While The Conversation was bleak, Coppola's other great film that year was lush and poetic, as he once again took on the task of documenting the story of the Corleone family. The film is beautifully organized into a prequel - Robert de Niro plays the young Vito Corleone - and a sequel, as we see how Michael Corleone (Al Pacino) carries on the work of his father after his death. While not as shockingly violent as the first Godfather film, the violence here is just as swift and ruthless. Coppola's love of family - a common theme in his works - was never more heartfelt than in this film.

The Gambler (Karel Reisz)
A marvelous examination of the madness that affects certain people - that madness being gambling. James Caan portrays Axel Freed, a literature professor, who challenges his students to find everyday meaning in the works of famous authors and historical figures. Outside of class, however, Freed bets on basketball games- tens of thousands of dollars at a time - as well as at casinos. As he loses more, his actions naturally become more desperate; near the end of the film, he has to convince one of his students, a star on his school's basketball team, to do what he can to cover the spread on one particular game.

This is about as good as Caan ever was in films, giving a charming performance of a man who always believes that luck is on his side - until the end of the film, that is. Reisz directs this films without tricks (I counted one tracking shot in the entire movie), dealing with the various characters - good and bad - that deal with Freed on a regular basis. James Toback, who reportedly had a serious gambling problem of his own, wrote the screenplay, based on a short story by Dostoevsky. (Interestingly, there was another memorable film about the subject of gambling in 1974, California Split, directed by Robert Altman.)

A Woman Under the Influence (John Cassavettes)
Cassavettes never shied away from the difficulties of everyday life, a theme that was never better communicated than in this film. Mabel (Gena Rowlands), has a nervous breakdown and is committed by her husband Nick (Peter Falk); the film deals with their existence before and after this act. Falk is marvelous here; Cassavettes taps into the nervous tics and edgy voice mannerisms of the actor, while Rowlands is brilliant, delivering a hearbreaking performance of a woman who is deeply in love with her husband, but emotionally exhausted. Cassavettes keeps his camera on both of them for long speeches, letting us view their brittle relationship, whle noting their passion for each other. This is a brutally honest film that reminds us how good a writer and director Cassavettes truly was.

The Taking of Pelham One Two Three (Joseph Sargent)
Both a marvelous suspense film as well as a look at mid-1970s New York City, this is a wonderfully entertaining work. Four individuals hijack a subway train in New York and threaten to kill everyone on board unless their demand for $10 million is met in a matter of hours. Plots such as this have been the backbone of several films, but few have been as well constructed as this (how do you get ten million dollars out of the subway?). Performances across the board were excellent, especially by Robert Shaw as Mr. Blue, the mastermind of the plot and Walter Matthau, as Transit Police Lieutenant Garber. Also worth noting is the edgy, driving score by David Shire. It's neat to watch this film today and see New York City from almost 40 years ago- it seems like an entirely different world.

F For Fake (Orson Welles)
This documentary from Welles is about reality, magic and swindlers; the director includes stories about famous art forgers as well as Clifford Irving, who convinced a famous publisher that his biography of Howard Hughes was authentic; soon afterwards it was proven that the book was a scam. Welles is seen at his editing table commenting on the various stories he presents; it's a neat trick, as editing lets the filmmaker alter reality - or present a fake, if you will. While a less important work from Welles than his earlier masterpieces, even a second-tier opus from Welles is more impressive than most films seen then or now.

Thieves Like Us (Robert Altman)
At the height of his powers, Altman gave us two excellent films in 1974: California Split, a wild look at gambling starring Elliot Gould and George Segal and this more subdued film about small-time crooks; I slightly preferred this work. Shelley Duvall and Keith Carradine star as two lovers in this 1930s depression era piece. Carradine and his partners rob banks; one day Carradine meets Duvall during some down time for the gang and they celebrate a lovely affair, one that examines two real people with plenty of doubts, fears and dreams. Altman uses popular radio broadcasts of the day to comment on the action; in lesser hands, this might have come across as obtrusive and obvious, but here it is well done. There's plenty of quiet humor and irony and Altman just feels at home here with this story and his characters. A small gem from this director and one that's not as well remembered as many of his other works.

Young Frankenstein (Mel Brooks)
Mel Brooks could always write a wildly funny screenplay (as with The Producers or Blazing Saddles), but with this work, he gave us his most successful visual film as well. This is a loving tribute to the famed Univeral Studios horror films of the 1930s (this is also filmed in beautiful black and white), Young Frankenstein is a success on its own, thanks to the sweet nature of the film as well as the marvelous ensemble acting, especially from Gene Wilder (who also co-wrote the screenplay); Marty Feldman; Peter Boyle (hilarious as the monster); Teri Garr; Cloris Leachman and even Gene Hackman (in a great cameo). It's a shame that Brooks, while continuing to make funny films for another decade, never put as much love and care into his other works as he did with this classic comedy.

Lenny (Bob Fosse)
After his great success with Cabaret in 1972, Bob Fosse went in an entirely different direction with this film, a biography of the controversial comedian Lenny Bruce. Fosse moves from the inner workings at small comedy clubs to the fame and notoriety of Bruce's career including his relationship with his wife Honey, played affectionately by Valerie Perrine. Clearly influenced by Orson Welles' storytelling approach with Citizen Kane, Fosse, gives us tape recording glimpses into the smallest details of Bruce's personal details. A particularly mesmerizing scene occurs late in the film when Bruce (a great performance by Dustin Hoffman, who has rarely been better), breaks down in a nightclub, when trying to perform his act without breaking any obscenity laws. Beautifully photographed in high contrast black and white by Bruce Surtees, Lenny is a dazzling film to watch. You do note the director at work in this film, but here, I think Fosse's influence is necessary to give additional meaning to the historical nature of this film.

Porgy and Bess

2011-07-08T07:54:00.000-07:00

A few days ago, I watched Porgy and Bess, the 1959 film directed by Otto Preminger. Just the fact that I was able to see this film is something worth mentioning, as it was pulled out of the marketplace in 1967 by the Gerhswin family and has (to the best of my knowledge) received only one public showing since (this took place in New York City in 1998; after the film, author Foster Hirsch who wrote a biography of Preminger, commented on this work before an appreciative audience).

The history of this film is quite remarkable, as several producers in the 1940s and '50s wanted to acquire the rights to the famed opera, written in 1935 by George and Ira Gershwin, with a libretto by DuBose Heyward; the opera itself was based on Heyward's 1925 novel Porgy as well as a subsequent 1927 play written by Heyward and his wife Dorothy. In 1957, Ira Gershwin sold the rights to famed producer Samuel Goldwyn, who had produced such celebrated films as The Best Years of Our Lives and Wuthering Heights.

Goldwyn hired Rouben Mamoulian as director, after previous individuals turned down the assignment. Mamoulian had directed the original stage production as well as the opera, so this seemed like an inspired choice. But after personal differences between the producer and director, Goldwyn fired him and hired Otto Preminger, who early on had expressed interest in making this film. Having Preminger replace Mamoulian was highly ironic, as the same thing happened on the film Laura (1944), which turned out to be one of Preminger's most critically acclaimed works.

I cannot tell you where or how I saw the movie, but I was enthralled with the opportunity, not only because of its "lost" status, but because I am also a big fan of Preminger's work. Throughout most of his career, he displayed a solid hand in his direction, elegantly blocking out scenes and using graceful camera movements. He favored medium shots that would show several characters; thus the viewer could watch the part of the screen he or she wanted to - Preminger in my mind, greatly respected the audience. Overly dramatic closeups were not his thing; this led some critics to complain that Preminger's visual style was objective and without emotion. I disagree and am on the side of many critics who saw in the director's work a subtle quality attained only by the very best craftsmen of the cinema.

I like this film very much, as Preminger once again treated the audience with respect, as we look in on the residents of Catfish Row and see their world with soft brush strokes. If you thought this might be a high energy musical with lots of noise and extravagant production numbers, you would be disappointed (save for "It Ain't Necessarily So", enthusiastically performed by Sammy Davis, Jr. as Sportin' Life). But if you know Preminger's restraint, you would have a better understanding of this film and admire its pace and subtleties.

This is not to say it is a great film; while some performances are very good (such as Brock Peters as Crown) Dorothy Dandridge gives an uneven portrayal of Bess. She is fine in her scenes with Peters, especially displaying the fear of being under his spell. But in other scenes, she seems uncertain and even lacking a bit of focus. The fact that Preminger and she had a tumultuous affair a few years earlier may have had something to do with this, but the fact is she looks uncomfortable at times.

Then there are the sets, which have the look of a talented production designer (in this case, Oliver Smith, who had performed similar duties on Guys and Dolls and Oklahoma among other films). But no matter how handsome the sets are, they lend an artificiality to the film and take away from its intimacy. Preminger reportedly complained, as he wished to film most of the movie on location, but producer Goldwyn overruled him. The only exception was the picnic scene which Preminger did shoot on location - it's clearly one of the highlights of this production.

So Preminger did not have the creative freedom he was used to enjoying - he was at this point in his career a tremendously successful independent producer and was about to embark on what would be two of his biggest successes: Anatomy of a Murder (1959) and Exodus (1960). But he does have his moments in Porgy and Bess, especially in the scene in which Porgy (a very earnest Sidney Poitier) takes in Bess; this is simply handled, as Porgy pours her a cup of coffee, which is about all this crippled beggar can give her. Bess smiles - that's it. No big emotions in this scene; we'll see this later when they sing to each other, Porgy with "Bess, You Is My Woman Now" and Bess singing "I Loves You Porgy."

Another memorable scene occurs right after the quiet scene between the two title characters. This is the wake the citizens of Catfish Row have for one of their own workers who has been killed by Crown. They sing, "Gone, Gone, Gone", a marvelously moving dirge that lets us experience the deep emotions of these characters. Finally, there is a quiet scene late in the film where Bess changes the diaper of her daughter under the loving eyes of Porgy; all the while she sings "Summertime" as a lullaby to her offspring. She embraces her baby, Porgy administers a gentle rub and Preminger fades away- it's an elegant, moving scene made more so by the director's light touch.

So I hope some of you will get the chance to see this film, if only for the uniqueness of this production, as well as its mysterious identity. You'll also get to hear the great Gershwin score and be moved by this story that is at times heartbreaking and quite sad, but one that ultimately celebrates the triumph of living, loving and maintaining hope.

Note: The original film as shown in theaters in 1959 was 138 minutes, but the version I saw was 118 minutes. I spent several hours researching this, but was not able to find out what happened to those twenty minutes and what exactly is missing (as well as why it is missing).

Also, Poitier and Dandridge did not sing in this film, their voices were dubbed, respectively by Robert McFerrin (father of Bobby McFerrin) and Adele Addison, who are wonderful. As for Sammy Davis Jr., who sang so brilliantly in the film, his vocals were not on the original soundtrack album; those songs were recorded by Cab Calloway, who ironically had originally been offered the role of Sportin' Life.

André Previn and Ken Darby won the Oscar for Best Adapted Score and the original soundtrack album won the Grammy for Best Film Soundtrack of the Year.

Huston's Unique Western

2011-06-26T10:07:00.000-07:00

You have to admire John Huston throughout his long career, not only for the obvious talent he displayed in his movies, but also for the choices he made. Best known for films such as The Maltese Falcon (1941), Treasure of the Sierra Madre (1948) and Prizzi's Honor (1985) among others, Huston generally challenged himself, working in several genres, from crime pieces (The Asphalt Jungle, 1950) to psychological dramas (Reflections in a Golden Eye, 1967) to intelligent romantic dramas (Heaven Knows, Mr. Allison, 1957 - for my money, a more subtle and rewarding film than his popular The African Queen, 1951). Not every choice Huston made was enlightened - The Kremlin Letter (1970) is a poorly constructed spy thriller, while Annie (1982) proved that musicals weren't the director's thing - but over the course of 46 years as a director, Huston made a lot of inspired films.

One of the few Westerns made by Huston was the 1972 film, The Life and Times of Judge Roy Bean. These days, it seems that this work is largely remembered for Paul Newman's robust title petformance; many don't even realize that Huston was the director. It has received its share of negative criticism, with many reviewers opining that the film lacks structure. But after watching this film for the first time the other night, I was impressed not only by Huston's direction, but also the wild ride he provides in this film, going from charming moments of humor to explosive action to achingly beautiful scenes of tenderness. It's a very underrated film.

The film opens in a small town in Texas in the 1880s - we are told that at this time, areas west of the the Pecos River were wild and lawless - where Bean is robbed of his money and then beaten near death by the town hooligans. He recovers and kills virtually all of them in a stark, violent shootout and then lets anyone who comes there know that he will be running the town, not only as sheriff, but also as judge. We all know that Roy Bean was the famous "hanging judge" and Huston and his screenwriter John Milius (who also wrote 1975's The Wind and the Lion, in which Huston acted), make sure there are several hangings in this film. Petty theft or murder - it doesn't matter to Judge Bean - he is going to hang them, and his team of deputies are all too happy to carry out the punishment.

Huston and Milius have constructed this film as though we are moving from one chapter to the next in a book; perhaps this is the reason why various critics have complained about the film's structure, but I enjoyed the various tales told in this film. One of my favorite scenes occurs shortly after the initial shootout; a Bible-quoting minister, wonderfully portrayed by Anthony Perkins, rides into town and upon viewing the carnage caused by Judge Bean, convinces him to bury the victims. It's a brief scene that tells us that there is humanity in the judge's makeup. It's also beautifully shot and written.

Then there are the wonderfully comic scenes of Bean and his young wife Maria Elena (Victoria Principal, looking as beautiful as I can ever remember) with a grizzly bear that is happy when he's with the company of humans, especially if he can down a few bottles of beer. The picnic scene where the judge and his wife and the bear eat lunch together and play on a see-saw, all the while accompanied by the wildly funny and purposely campy song, "Marmalade, Molasses and Honey" (with lyrics by Marilyn and Alan Begman, no less!) is simply hilarious.

There are two memorably moving scenes between Bean and Maria Elena; the first taking place after she believes he is attracted to another woman (this occurs before they are married). Bean walks with her to a open field with an endless horizon. Shot during the last moments of sun one afternoon, the visuals add a haunting quality, as he tells her of the beauty of this pastoral scene ("Do you smell how sweet that air is? It's almost tropical.") and the dreams he has in store for himself ("I'm going to have a courthouse four stories high,") He tells her that she can have anything she wants - her wish is simply for a music box. Hearing that, he sings "The Yellow Rose of Texas" in a raspy voice and then tells her that she should spend the night with him in the courthouse, to protect her from the elements. It's a lovely scene, classically filmed.

The other scene comes after she has given birth to a girl and has become ill. Bean returns to her side with the music box she so dearly wanted and we hear "Yellow Rose of Texas" playing as he opens the box. This is another elegantly simple scene -the two scenes together are as moving and as tender as just about any in Huston's career.

Not all of the film is as moving or as clever as these moments. Toward the film's end, there is a scene where the town is almost destroyed amidst the shooting and the resulting fires. It's clearly a conventional scene in this unconventional film, so it seems a bit out of place. In fact, the last twenty minutes of this film, shortly after Bean and Maria Elena have their final scene together, lack the originality and cleverness of the first-two thirds of this work.

Judge Roy Bean shows us a Huston who was not afraid to take chances, especially late in his career. Think of the originality, humanity and humor of his films such as Fat City (1972) or Wise Blood (1979) and you realize the story telling talents of this great director. Bean is not quite the equal of those marvelous movies, but it shares a common DNA and for that fact alone, it's well worth your time.

Great Movie Quotes - Part Five

2011-06-14T13:22:00.000-07:00

It's part five of my list of great movie quotes. You know the drill by now- none of the "Here's looking at you, kid" stuff, but some wonderful movie lines that should be better known. Here are ten more in chronological order.

"Quit worrying about the truth all the time. Worry about yourself."
Terry Malloy (Marlon Brando) to Edie (Eva-Marie Saint), On The Waterfront (1954)

"We're really something, aren't we? The only animals that shove stuff up our ass for survival."
Papillon (Steve McQueen), Papillon (1973)

"We are smart enough not to buy into the oldest myth running- love. A fashion created to keep people from jumping from windows."
Gordon Gekko (Michael Douglas), Wall Street (1987)

"If we were here to keep the women happy, sure we'd still be in paradise."

Bull (Richard Harris), The Field (1990)

"No woman's worth a bullet between the eyes, am I right or wrong?" - George (Joe Mategna)

"Depends on whose eyes and which woman."

Bugsy (Warren Beatty), Bugsy (1991)

"You know why the Yankees always win, Frank?" - Frank Abagnale, Sr. (Christopher Walken)

"They have Mickey Mantle?" - Franks Abagnale, Jr. (Leonardo Di Caprio)

"It's because the other teams can't stop looking at those damn pinstripes."

Catch Me If You Can (2002)

"Little boys should never be sent to bed. They always wake up a day older."

James Barrie (Johnny Depp), Finding Neverland (2004)

"Do you have any idea what breakfast cereal is made of? It's those little curly wooden shavings you find in pencil sharpeners."

Willie Wonka (Johnny Depp), Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (2005)

"If you're good at something, never do it for free."

The Joker (Heath Ledger), The Dark Knight (2008)

"Why did they hang him so high?" - Mattie Ross (Hailee Steinfeld)

"I do not know. Possibly in the belief that it would make him more dead."

Rooster Cogburn (Jeff Bridges), True Grit (2010)

P.S. All great lines, but how do you top that line from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory?

A Study of a small timer

2011-05-19T13:49:00.000-07:00

Movies about criminals have come at us in all sizes and shapes. One of my favorite is a film that is a quiet, reflective film about a life-long thief that tries to turn his life around, but can't, opting for what he knows best, planning and carrying out small heists. That film is Straight Time (1978) directed by Ulu Grosbard.

If this summary sounds like a cliché, well, it certainly could have been a tired, predictable film. But Straight Time shows you what you can accomplish with a smart screenplay, excellent performances by the entire ensemble and honest direction. This film's subtleties may be the reason why this isn't better known. Certainly the tone of this work is unlike most contemporary films, as it doesn't have a climax or action scene every ten minutes. But how nice is that? - a slice of life film that takes its time and gives us a world we don't often see.

The film opens as Max Dembo (Dustin Hoffman) is released from prison and takes a public bus to town. Upon arrival, he orders a hot dog at a street stand and tries to take off without paying. This guy is small-time in every way.

He then meets with his parole officer, Earl, an overweight, rather awkward man played with great gusto by the wonderful character actor M. Emmet Walsh. Earl lays down the rules for Max and acts as though he wants to help, but in reality, he's a bit of a power broker and enjoys lording his authority over Max. The numerous times he tells ugly jokes gives us great insight into this oversized clown of a man. (In one of the film's best scenes, Max gets his revenge on Earl in a very unusual way.)

Max then starts to reconnect with his friends from his criminal past, most notably Willy (Gary Busey) and Jerry (Harry Dean Stanton). The initial dinner at Willy's house, set in the small, drab kitchen is a marvelous scene that shows us the despair of this man and his wife and young son. Willy tries hard, but he's a screwup - next to him, Max is a genius.

A much smarter friend is Jerry, who has great plans organized for Max and himself. He is a successful criminal and it's an interesting contrast to see the suburban home - complete with swimming pool - where he lives. Max senses right away that Jerry is his ticket to money and survival.

But before he can pull of any more heists, he has to get a job and find a room. He does that with the help of Jenny, an attractive woman in her mid-late 20s (effectively played by the beautiful Theresa Russell), who works at an employment agency. She helps Max find a simple job with a can company at scale wages and Max, thrilled with his good fortune, asks her out to dinner and she accepts.

The fact that she says yes upon first asking seems a bit much and it's about the only criticism I have of the film. I'd like to know a bit more about her; for example, it's hard to believe she doesn't have a boyfriend, given her looks. Sure Max is catching her at a fortunate time, but you have to wonder why she would say yes to an ex-con at first asking. We do see the sincerity of Max at the office when he admits right away that he spent time at the state penitentary - her response is "How long did you hold that position?", - so we see that she is won over by Max's honesty. Perhaps that's enough, as we're asked to take a small leap of faith here, but then again, there have been an awful lot of female characters in the cinema that have fallen for the wrong guy, so it's not a major stumbling block in this film.

The remainder of the film are set pieces of the heists Max and Jerry pull off, from small stuff to more serious bank and jewelry store robberies. As Max becomes more successful, his relationship with Jenny deepens, but this is no syrupy romance. It's a complex mixture of real affection for her combined with his using her for his benefit, as he can borrow her car or stay at her place.

The glue that really holds all this together is Dustin Hoffman. The man's had a lengthy career with numerous ups and downs, and this performance is definitely one of his finest. His Max Dembo has a few dreams like all men, but he hides those thoughts, as he is always turning back toward the present - what can he do to make money and stay one step ahead of the law at the same time? There is time for personal relationships, but only if they fit his schedule. Hoffman is wonderful at conveying the quiet, contemplative mood of this small time crook. He can fly into a violent rage when things go wrong, but more often that not, he's glancing at everything around him, as though he knows his time is limited. Hoffman certainly has created one of his most memorable characters in this film, one without emoting and one that fits him like a glove.

Grosbard's direction is restrained and attentive to details. This is not about tricky camera shots, but putting the camera on the faces of the characters and letting the actors play out their roles. The love scene between Max and Jenny comes at a somewhat surprising moment in the film and it's handled with wonderful subtlety and efficieny - it's one of the quietest love scenes I've witnessed in any film and yet it's very moving at the same time (this scene is aided greatly by an understated, lovely piano passage composed by David Shire, who also added a wonderfully jaunty title theme.)

We are creatures of habit, seems to be one of the overriding messages of Straight Time. No matter whether we choose to help others or act against society, we all return to our comfort level.

Arthur Penn's Bold Leap

2011-04-19T10:48:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago, Sidney Lumet passed away; last year Arthur Penn left us. Two first-rate American directors that gave us memorable works throughout the past four decades.

When I wrote about Penn shortly after his death last September, I mentioned a few of his films, including the brilliant Bonnie and Clyde (1967) as well as his moody, film noirish Night Moves (1975). Other noted works by Penn include The Miracle Worker (1962), Mickey One (1965) and Little Big Man (1970).

Penn took a break from feaure films for five years from 1970-1975, but did make one short film that is as visually dazzling as anything he ever did. The film is called The Highest and it was part of a 1973 documentary about the 1972 Summer Olympics held in Munich entitled Visions of Eight. The film was co-produced by David Wolper, who was one of the most influential documentary producers in Hollywood at that time.

When Wolper was awarded the rights to be the official documentarian of those games, he opted not to make a traditional record of the competition - who won, who lost - but instead came up with the brilliant idea of assigning eight directors from around the world - sort of an Olympic lineup of great filmmakers - who would each make a short film on the subject of their choice. Several famous directors tackled this project; Milos Forman authored a film on the decathlon, Claude Lelouch turned in a wonderfully sensitive piece on "The Losers" and John Schlesinger submitted an emotional look at the men's marathon.

Arthur Penn selected the men's pole vault competition (the women's pole vault event was not part of the Olympics back in 1972) and decided to make a film that showed the viewer the highly distinctive regimen of this sport. Penn trains his camera on the athletes, making their way down the runway and then vaulting high in the air, almost defying gravity; however, we are never told who these athletes are, as the director is much more interested in the unique visual aspect of this sport.

But this is no ordinary view of the pole vault competition as you might have watched on a major network. This is Penn's uniquely individual observation of this particular world and he presents a highly original summary. The first three minutes, which are particularly dazzling, set the tone. Soundless and shot mostly out of focus, the images are difficult to make out at first. We see a blurry image set among the bright blue sky and we're not certain of what we're seeing. One out of focus image looks like a bat or large bird in flight, while another looks more like an ink blotch from a Rorschach test. The viewer is confused at first, but we are instantly drawn into this film.

There is finally some sound after three minutes, this being the cheers of the spectators, but even that is only for a few seconds. Much of this film is silent, with only brief crowd noises or the sound of a pole hitting the ground. The film is all about the visual aspect of the sport; one fascinating sequence follows a vaulter lifting off from the ground and then heading over the bar; as it is filmed slightly out of focus with a telephoto lens, arms and legs seem as one and we see this competitor snake his way up and over the bar. By filming this in this fashion, Penn seems to be saying that this is not a normal athletic event, not this competition where vaulters are upside down for a few agonizing seconds.

There is another amazing image that is truly stunning. It is a low-angle shot of a vaulter about half way through his descent; it is shot from behind one of the judges who is standing near the mat where the competitors will land. We see this judge hold his hands out as though he were trying to catch the vaulter in mid-flight. It's an amazing visual and one of the most striking in this film.

Much credit has to go to the cinematographer, Walter Lassaly, who had previously been the director of photography on such films as Tom Jones (1963) and Zorba the Greek (1964). He turned in stellar work here, having to make do with a number of lenses (mostly telephoto) as well as grainy filmstock, while trying to follow the athletes soar though space and the plummet back to earth (there's one marvelous shot of a closeup of a competitor landing on the mat followed a few seconds later by the bar he knocked down on his leap. What a wonderful summary of the heartbreak of this sport in a single moment!)

Then there was the demanding job of combining all the footage shot by Penn and Lassaly; the editing was done by the great Dede Allen, who had also performed similar chores for Penn on Bonnie and Clyde. It's a masterful job of editing, one that will immediately impress you, but even more so upon repeated viewings. (Note: Like Penn, Dede Allen also passed away in 2010. There had been talk of an honorary Oscar for her lifetime's work - she also edited Dog Day Afternoon for Sidney Lumet and Reds for Warren Beatty. I would imagine that given her death, the Academy missed their opportunity to honor her.)

There have been several other documentaries and short films about athletic competition. Arthur Penn's The Highest is one of the best ever made. It certainly is one of the most original and challenging.

Here is the film, as displayed on YouTube. (I recommend going to Youtube and watching it in full screen mode - http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s6pRZCvAPlc)

Sidney Lumet 1924-2011

2011-04-10T08:30:00.000-07:00

When I think of Sidney Lumet's films, words such as realism, honesty and raw emotions come to mind. Lumet was a craftsman, a technically proficient director, who was adapt at telling a story without having to resort to trickery or self-conscious camera movements. Because of this, the power of the storyline was foremost in his films and his lead actors were able to shine.

I first noticed Lumet's work in Twelve Angry Men (1957), a story of how a jury dissects the case of a young man accused of murder. There was only one set with twelve actors - the memorable cast included Henry Fonda, Ed Begley, Jack Warden and Lee J. Cobb - a setting that could have been a nightmare for Lumet or any director. I recall commentary from John Frankenheimer for the DVD soundtrack for one of his (Frankenheimer's) lesser-known films, The Gypsy Moths (1969), where he discusses the difficulty of providing enough coverage when filming a scene with more than three characters having a dialogue with each other.

The scene Frankenheimer referred to had five actors, so imagine the technical work Lumet faced with twelve actors in a small room. Watch the film again and note how Lumet stations his cameras and how the scenes are edited. In the story, a few of the jurors are bigoted and want the accused to get what's coming to him, while a few others are much more passionate in their reasoning concerning the testimony. Lumet respects the story and his actors by refusing to shoot at low or high angles, which would communicate a like or dislike toward that character. Rather, he treats them equally, letting the audience decide which jurors are sincere and which are not.

Clearly, Lumet's television experience before this film was of invaluable experience for this as well as future work. Like Frankenheimer, Lumet cut his directorial teeth in the early to mid 1950s on live television dramas, such as Playhouse 90 and Studio One. That training certainly helped him think on his feet and devise plans on how best to bring out the proper atmosphere in his work.

Those qualities are seen in his films that were set in New York City, his hometown. On the commentary tracks for Serpico (1973) and Dog Day Afternoon (1975), Lumet describes how he had scouted out certain locations in the city that had a special look - not the look of midtown Manhattan with its sprawling skyscrapers, but the ethnic neighborhoods with their small storefronts, be they restaurants, dry cleaners or banks. Take a look at these two films and you note the reality of the settings - again, no trickery here, just honesty.

Lumet's filming of the action within the bank lobby in Afternoon is first-rate in its constantly shifting point of view from Sonny (Al Pacino) to the employees of the bank. All of the characters are given their due - we don't have the stereotypical presentations of the overweight or loud employees as in some films where we are invited by the filmmakers to laugh at these characters. Lumet was too sophisticated and sincere in his work to allow that.

Combined with Dede Allen's brilliant editing, Dog Day Afternoon is a marvelous piece of work, at once exciting, exhausting and deeply touching, especially in the portrayal of Pacino's character, who is robbing the bank to pay for a sex-change operation for his male lover (this was a shocking concept for a mainstream Hollywood film in the mid-1970s and Lumet handles it with grace and dignity). Once Sonny enters that bank and holds the employees hostage, we enter that world with him and we see the confusion and weariness of his situation. The marvelous screenplay by Frank Pierson sets the table and Lumet made certain that we, the audience, would embrace the unusual aspects of this story without questioning or making fun of the characters or their circumstances.

Often when a director passes away, words are written about the remarkable performances in that individual's films; to some degree, it's almost become a cliché. But in the case of Lumet, it's proper to list some of these performances, especially as I mentioned above, Lumet first and foremost directed a film to tell the story and in the process, let his actors do their work. Just a few of the performances include Pacino and John Cazale in Dog Day Afternoon; Pacino again in Serpico; Paul Newman in The Verdict (1982), Peter Finch, Faye Dunaway and Beatrice Straight in Network (1976); Marlon Brando and Anna Magnani in The Fugitive Kind (1960- an intriguing film too often neglected in any discussion of Lumet's work); Rod Steiger in The Pawnbroker (1965) and of course, the entire ensemble in Twelve Angry Men.

Every one of these marvelous performances were a tribute to the dignity and poise of Sidney Lumet, a great storyteller. He will be missed.

An Unsettling Existence

2011-03-30T11:10:00.000-07:00

There have been many words used to describe the world inhabited by the characters in a Roman Polanski film. Disturbing, disconcerting, alarming and distressing are among the descriptors that are among the most common. To me, the word unsettling is an appropriate adjective for the often bizarre circumstances that identify these scenarios. Of all his works, Death and the Maiden (1994) is about as unsettling and troubling a world as Polanski has presented on screen.

The story, set in an unnamed South American country of recent times, involves only three characters: Paulina Escobar, her husband Gerardo, a distinguished attorney and Roberto Miranda, a prominent doctor. Paulina is at her seaside home, dining by herself, as she waits for her husband to make his way through a particularly violent storm late at night. He has had a flat tire and has been rescued by Dr. Miranda, who drives him to the security of his home.

As Paulina and Gerardo talk, we learn that he will be heading a commission that will investigate ghastly crimes and human rights violations perpetrated by the previous regime. Paulina has a special interest in this, as she was one of the victims, brutally tortured and raped; she befell this fate, as she was a political activist who spoke out against the government. The commission however will only be looking into cases of victims who were killed. She argues with her husband to use his influence to change this so that every case is examined.

Dr. Miranda has left the Escobar house to make his way home, but soon returns with the flat tire belonging to Gerardo. Grateful, Escobar invites the doctor into his home on this gloomy evening for a drink. It is then that Paulina, upon hearing his voice and peculiar laugh, realizes that this is the man who raped her on several occasions.

Revenge is now the primary concern for her and soon after her husband falls asleep, she hatches her plans to exact that payback. She bounds and gags Miranda - even going so far as stuffing the panties she is wearing in his mouth and then taping it shut - and ties him securely to a chair. She pistol whips him, drawing blood and then proceeds to remind the doctor of what he did to her. To make the memory more vivid, she plays a tape of Schubert's "Death and the Maiden" concerto; this is the same music that the doctor played for her during his beastly behavior. (The title of this music is, of course, disarmingly ironic, as is the sweeping beauty of Schubert's melodies being played to accompany such brutality.)

Gerardo awakens to this madness and tells his wife that he must untie the doctor, who is professing his innocence. She refuses and then tells Gerardo in private many of the details of her suffering. This is a critical detail, as she had not previously informed her husband of all the specifics. Though a bit unsure at first, Gerardo slowly begins to believe his wife and takes her side in her actions to force an admission of guilt from him.

During this film, based on a play by Ariel Dorfman, Polanski rarely lets up on the intensity of this macabre chain of events. Paulina (brilliantly portrayed by Sigourney Weaver) is liked a trapped animal who has been briefly let out of her cage and is ready to pounce. Her actions of course are somewhat comparable to that Miranda, though not as deviant. Yet, she crosses the line, acting as judge and jury and does not care how much she abuses or embarrasses him (going so far as holding his penis while he urinates, as his hands are tied).

This is arguably Weaver's finest film performance, as she finds tremendous emotional range, while always maintaining total control. It is especially impressive to listen to the tone of her voice as she recalls the brutalities of the past. She has portrayed a number of strong women throughout her career, but none as dominating or as disturbed as this and it is her performance that is the centerpiece of this work.

Another brilliant performance comes from Ben Kingsley as Dr. Miranda. You can almost feel his heart beat accelerate through this ordeal, as he steadfastly denies his role in prior crimes. The glazed look in his eyes combined with the slightly off-key delivery of his lines is a memorable presentation of a man who is angry, confused and worried for his life.

Both characters have taken the law into their own hands: Miranda in the past and Paulina in the present. Power and "right" define their actions; Paulina, believing that the commission that will be headed by her husband will do little, thinks that she must decide the fate of Miranda. The doctor, a respected member of the local community (he wears a casual but elegant sports coat), acted as he did for numerous reasons, including the morbid fact that he liked raping Paulina.

I couldn't help but think of the character of Noah Cross in Chinatown (1974), who raped his daughter and then figuratively raped the farmers in the valley, by circumventing their water supply, so as to depreciate the value of their land. He lives on, going about his business in his own charming (in his view) way. Similarly, Dr. Miranda has been living the life of a first-rate individual, his crimes unpunished until this fateful evening.

At the film's end, there is a sense of victory (if you can call it that) for Paulina, but under questionable circumstances. The doctor has been proven guilty, but he is allowed to live. How many other women are out there who were similarly brutalized that will never know their attackers?

In this way, the evil lives on, as it does in Chinatown and several other Polanski films. The world is an unsettling place where uncovering the truth can often lead to the realization that no one is innocent.

Le Gros e le Maigre - The Absurdity of Life

2011-03-28T07:17:00.000-07:00

A young man sits in a field banging away at a drum and playing random notes on a recorder. Some 30 or so feet away, we see a middle-aged man dozing in a rocking chair. These two characters are situated in front of a simple, elegant country house that while still handsome, has fallen into a state of disrepair.

So begins the charming short film Le Gros e le Maigre (The Fat and the Lean), made in 1961 by Roman Polanski. I only recently discovered this film, as I was doing research for my Polanski blogathon (the film is on YouTube) and am glad I found it, as it contains a number of themes Polanski would explore in his feature films throughout his career, namely the randomness of life along with the absurdity of everyday living.

Polanski himself plays the young man, who is clearly a servant to the older man. Initially the man wakes up and signals to his servant that his playing is too loud and that he should come over to him (there is no dialogue in this film); he does so and the elder man plays the drum and motions for his servant to dance. He does so barefoot, twirling every which way like a clumsy ballerina; Polanski's movements in this scene are quite hilarious.

The young servant must do everything the elder man wishes and these tasks range from fanning him (with a rake!) to create a cool breeze, putting his feet in a tub of water and even wiping the sweat off his brow and putting a lit cigar in the his mouth. The servant does this with great energy, as though he has no choice in the matter.

Then one day he glances out a window of the house as he is preparing a meal. He sees the skyline of Paris, but it is real or is it an illusion? No matter - he sees it and in so doing, realizes there is another world he can inhabit. The rest of this 15 minute film revolves around whether the servant can escape to his dreamland or if he must remain in servitude.

There is a lovely sparse musical score that plays up the offbeat moments of this story beautifully, but in eassence, this is a silent film. Polanski's character was at least in some ways inspired by Chaplin's tramp and indeed, his little dance has a lot of Chaplinesque movements to it.

But this story becomes much more bizarre than Chaplin's world. The elder man does everything he can to keep his servant once he realizes that he wishes to escape. At one point, he even chains him to his goat and it's quite comical to see the servant dance for his master while tied to the goat. The way it's filmed, you feel bad for both the servant and the goat, as the animal just wants to eat grass, but it pulled in several directions by the servant's gyrations while dancing for his dominating master.

Le Gros e le Maigre is filled with offbeat moments that bring a smile to your face all while you ponder the absurdity of the servant's existence. Throughout the director's career, the hopelessness of one's situation in life is a common theme, especially as portrayed in Tess (1979) or The Pianist (2002). Though constantly in view of his master, the servant is quite lonely; think of the isolation of characters such as Richard Walker in Frantic (1988), Rosemary in Rosemary's Baby (1968) or Carol in Repulsion (1965).

But while a common theme of Polanski's films is that the evil lives on, in this short film, the servant finds a beautiful measure of peace at the conclusion of the episode. I won't spoil it, but his moment of sheer joy and independence is a lovely one that must have emerged from a moment of inspiration by Polanski (perhaps this goes back to his youth when he survived the horrors of life in the Warsaw Ghetto in the early 1940s.) His escape in this short film may or may not be to Paris - or the illusion of Paris - but his physical and spiritual separation from his master at film's end represents in a small way the triumph of good over evil.

Chinatown - No escaping the past - or the future

2011-03-27T07:48:00.000-07:00

Throughout many of Roman Polanski's films, one of the primary situations is that of the main character seeking the truth. Think of Richard Walker in Frantic (1988), who must fight red tape from French police as well as from US State Department officials as he tries to locate his wife, who has been kidnapped on a trip to Paris. Or the Ghost in The Ghost Writer (2010), who during his employment, decides to learn why the man he replaced was killed and then chooses to discover what wrong doings were appropriated by his current employer, an ex-prime minister of Britain.

While the main character in each of these films ends up with varying degrees of success, neither man can view his immediate world - or the world at large - in the same way again. Each is trapped in a whirlpool of events that spin out of control. The only way he can learn the truth (or come as close as possible) is to accept this fact and move on with his life.

This is certainly an overriding aspect of Chinatown (1974), where private eye J.J. Gittes has to learn why a city official was killed soon after news broke out that he was having an affair. Gittes, despite his knowledge after years on the job, truly has no idea how convoluted this case will become. He starts out by following the public servant (Hollis Mulwray, the water and power commissioner), as he has been hired to learn of his extramarital activities. Yet in reality, the man is not having an affair; indeed the woman that hires Gittes is not even the commissioner's wife.

Gittes was once a policeman in the Chinatown district of Los Angeles, where he received advice telling him to do "as little as possible." In other words, accept the madness you will witness from day to day, as you live in a world without rules or at least a world where the rules make little sense.

We learn more about Gittes' experiences in Chinatown later in the film after he romances the real Evelyn Mulwray, who now aides the detective in his search for the reasons behind her husband's death. When she asks him about his past troubles in the district, she poses the question, "Was there a woman?" He replies that he was there to protect a woman and make sure she wasn't hurt, but "wound up making sure she was." It is a haunting foreshadowing of how this film will conclude.

Polanski's camera in this film is often on the move perched over the shoulder of Gittes, as we snoop on events and characters just as he does. Director of photography John Alonzo selected a 40mm lens for many of the shots, stating that the images from this lens more closely resembled what the human eye sees in real life. This combination of technology along with the brilliant compositions add a subtle edginess to the work and the wide screen format often features horizontal images - such as the virtually dry river bed where water is being diverted in a drought - that make us feel a bit uneasy and nervous as we watch. This is arguably Polanski's most accomplished visual work, perhaps only matched overall by The Ghost Writer or Tess (1979).

As is usual in a Polanski film the evil lives on. The director famously altered the final sequence of Robert Towne's script; the writer had Evelyn escape, but Polanski insisted that she must perish, if the story was to make any sense. (Towne in subsequent interviews has admitted that this change worked beautifully.) Gittes is back in Chinatown, as he is forced to lead the evildoer, Noah Cross, to see Evelyn one last time. This meeting between Evelyn and Noah is a meeting between order and chaos, between reason and madness. Cross has told Gittes in a previous scene that all of his evil deeds are done with the thought that he will be able to buy "the future." For Gittes, the present recalls the past, as he once again is supposed to make sure that he protects a woman, but ultimately winds up "making sure she is hurt."

"Forget it Jake, it's Chinatown," is the last line of the film, spoken to Gittes by one of his associates. Yet the reality of the situation is that he cannot now and never will forget what happened there; Chinatown becomes not just a place, but a sense of loss. Gittes, a prototypical doomed Polanski character, cannot escape his past nor will he be able to escape a future filled with the disorder that is the basis of his - and our - world.

Roman Polanski Blogathon - Now Up

2011-03-27T07:45:00.000-07:00

Roman Polanski blogathon now up!

Polanski Blogathon begins Sunday!

2011-03-24T13:16:00.001-07:00

Just a reminder that the Roman Polanski blogathon I am hosting will begin Sunday and run through Tuesday, the 29th. For those of you who are contributing a post, please send along the link to me at my email at thomas2022@comcast.net.

I will then reply and let you know what day your work will be up and where you can find it online.

Thank you to everyone in advance for your contributions!

A Journey of the Soul through War and Peace

2011-03-19T05:45:00.000-07:00

After Platoon (1986) and Born on the Fourth of July (1989), director Oliver Stone completed his Vietnam War trilogy with Heaven and Earth (1993), a film that showed Vietnam from the viewpoint of a young Vietnamese woman who suffered the ravages of war and had to go through several life changing ordeals in the United States as well as her own country in order to find the meaning of her life.

Stone's first two Vietnam pictures were major successes, both critically and at the box office; they also won him two Best Director statuettes at the Academy Awards, with Platoon also winning the Best Picture Oscar. These films were studies of the war through the eyes of American soldiers; the first being based on Stone's own experiences in Vietnam, while the second was the journal of Ron Kovic, an all-American boy who was gung ho about fighting the enemy, but who became disillusioned after leaving Vietnam due to crippling injuries.

So it took some courage for Stone to make another Vietnam opus that dealt with a native woman's experiences rather than that of American soldiers. This theme would certainly not be one that would guarantee box office success - how could the audience identify with her? - and indeed, this is a film that is largely forgotten among the director's body of work.

Yet it is one of his most human and tender films, due largely in part to the universal themes all of us can understand. We may not have the same broad emotional strains realized by the heroine of this story, Le Ly Hyslip (portrayed with a beautiful dignity by Hiep Thi Le), but we can all share in the loss of loved ones as well as the anxiety of a new life after early failures.

Visually, this is also one of Stone's finest works and evidence of that is on display in a beautiful opening sequence as we see young Le Ly work the rice fields of her village in central Vietnam with her mother as well as visiting a Buddhist monk with her father. It is the Buddhist teachings that despite what goes on around them, their lives are guided by Father Heaven and Mother Earth.

Cinematographer Robert Richardson who had worked on several of Stone's films prior to this (most notably Platoon, Wall Street and JFK), contributed some of his finest work here, especially in the lovely images of the simple village these characters call home. The greens of the tall grasses are particularly vivid, especially in wide ranging landscape shots. Many of the shots of the opening sequence were filmed during the "magic hour" just before the sun disappears, giving the faces of Le Ly and her family a subtle glow. These images take on an even more mystical feel as we listen to the lush, emotional score of Kitaro. This is a magnificent opus, with beautiful, slightly mysterious themes that serve the story well; this is a musical work that deserves to be better known.

The story opens in the mid-1950s, as the country is ruled by the French, who are in large cities, far away from the villagers. The narrative proceeds to the early 1960s, when the Viet Cong inhabit the village to try and convince the people that they will help them achieve a unified country. Later the government troops and then the American forces take over the village and everyone's life is turned upside down.

Le Ly must leave the village; she eventually meets a quiet Marine sergeant named Steve Butler, who wins over her affection and soon marries her and then moves Le Ly and her son to his home in Southern California. The obvious changes in lifestyle - for both Le Ly and Steve - provide the dramatic turns in the second part of the story.

The third act has Le Ly return with her family to her village; her reunion with her mother is a beautiful and touching moment in this film. She has suffered tragedy and has also celebrated many beautiful moments in her life (the birth of her sons) and now realizes the meaning of her teachings as a young girl. The final passage of Le Ly, read in a voice over, as we watch her walk through a vast rice field dressed in a lovely white dress, is quite moving:

It is my fate to be in between heaven and earth. When we resist our fate, we suffer. When we accept it, we are happy... Lasting victories are won in the heart, not on this land or that.

It is a fitting and beautiful end to this film; we then learn that Le Ly who now lives in California, has built several health clinics in Vietnam through the East Meets West Foundation.

For those who know Oliver Stone only by his testosterone-themed films about sports, political power, financial dealings or the struggles of soldiers in combat, you owe it to yourself to see Heaven and Earth. At least for this one work, the director shows that he can make a spiritual film that resonates with its lovely message of understanding. I for one, hope that he can make another film with this purpose and meaning.

P.S. A final note, I had mentioned that Heaven and Earth deserves to be better known. Perhaps at that point in his career, movie goers associated Stone with a more urgent, almost frantic style of movie making, as in JFK and therefore were disappointed by a more classical approach to cinema. Whatever the reason, this film has been largely forgotten in his body of work. This is truly a shame.

Roman Polanski Blogathon - A Reminder

2011-03-16T12:58:00.000-07:00

Just a reminder that I'll be hosting a Roman Polanski Blogathon from the 27th to the 29th of the month. I've received some nice emails about this so far, including two from bloggers who also designed banners for this event. Thanks to Tom at Motion Picture Gems for the banner above and the one at the bottom of the page and a big thank you to Ashley at Pussy Goes Purr (http://mendthiscrack.wordpress.com) for the banner below.

A reminder on how this will work. I will ask those who wish to contribute a post to do so in this fashion. You will write a post and upload it on your own blog, beginning on March 27. Merely email me a few days before at thomas2022@comcast.net with your name and a link to your post. I'll reply, letting you know when I'll feature it - I will include a few lines from your post as well as a link for readers to find your work.

Thanks - I'm looking forward to reading some brilliant posts about one of our most stimulating, controversial and extraordinarily talented directors of the last 40 plus years.

Roman Polanski Blogathon

2011-03-04T17:08:00.000-08:00

I will be hosting a Roman Polanski blogathon from March 27-29. I am certain there are many of you out there who have strong opinions, one way or the other, on Polanski and his films. He certainly proved last year that at the age of 77, he remains one of the most successful of all film directors, as his most recent movie The Ghost Writer, was critically acclaimed by reviewers in many countries across the globe.

I will ask those who wish to contribute a post to do so in this fashion. You will write a post and upload it on your own blog, beginning on March 27. Merely email me a few days before at thomas2022@comcast.net with your name and a link to your post. I'll reply, letting you know when I'll feature it - I will include a few lines from your post as well as a link for readers to find your work.

I expect some strong opinions on Polanski's work, especially given the themes of evil present in most of his best films, including Rosemary's Baby, Chinatown and The Ghost Writer. Of course, there are other wonderful films that merit discussion, including Repulsion, Knife in the Water, Frantic and Tess, to name only a few.

The very mention of Polanski's name instills anger in some, given his legal troubles in the US in the 1970s. I expect that this will be included in certain posts - I have no problem with that. All I ask is that if you do bring up his past criminal behavior, please refer to it in a review of his cinema, be it one film or his entire body of work. I will not accept a rambling piece on how Polanski is some sort of madman or deviant. Be critical of his films, if you will, but let's keep this focused first and foremost on his cinematic works.

I am writing this now, as I will not be able to update my blog for about 12 days. I will have a reminder post on this around March 17. I look forward to a everyone's contribution - there should be a stimulating conversation!

Here is another photo you can use on your blog (along with the one on top) to promote this blogathon:

Not Your Ordinary Oscar Picks

2011-02-24T14:04:00.000-08:00

Oscar statuette in bronze. This is an early form of the statue before it is dipped in gold.

The Academy Awards are this Sunday, so time for a few of my fearless picks. Actually over the past few years, it's become a little easier, especially for the major awards (Acting, Director, Best Picture) thanks to the slew of award ceremonies held before the Oscars. In fact, it's become a little boring in recent years, as we have witnessed the same person who won the Golden Globe and then the Screen Actor's Guild award claim the Oscar, so there's been almost no drama over recent times (the same has been holding true for the writing awards as well). There's nothing wrong with this, except to say that it's not as fun to watch the ceremonies when you know who's going to win.

Is there anyone out there who thinks anyone BUT Colin Firth will win Best Actor for his performance in The King's Speech? He deserves it of course, as he did a brilliant job putting life and breath into a famous historical character. It's just that the moment he wins will be a bit anticlimactic, as he's already won several awards for this performance. The only drama will be listening to his acceptance speech, so let's hope that Firth has an eloquent moment that's worthy of the film and this honor.

I am rooting for Geoffrey Rush for his supporting performance in the same film as I think he was absolutely brilliant in his portrayal of Lionel Logue, the king's speech therapist. I've never been that impressed by Rush's previous work; while good, I never thought he showed that much range. But in this film, he is a revelation and brings a nice touch of humanity and dry humor to this character and is a perfect foil as a simple man working with a royal subject; as with all great performances, I can't imagine anyone else in this role. I'm rooting for him, but all indications point to Christian Bale walking away with this award for his work in The Fighter.

So on with the Oscar picks and in keeping with my tradition, I'm only going to discuss a few categories, starting with:

BEST SONG
So let me get this straight, the music branch of the Academy chooses only four nominations for this award and not five? And THESE are the four they came up with? Let me discuss these one by one:

"I See the Light" from Tangled
This is a forgettable, slightly sappy tune co-written by Alan Menken. While I don't go around humming his work every day (in fact, I can't recall the last time I hummed any of his work), the man did co-write some very good movie tunes, such as "A Whole New World" from Aladdin and "Colors of the Wind" from Pocohantas. This new song though is not in the same league as those award winners.

"We Belong Together" from Toy Story 3
After the wonderful songs Randy Newman wrote for the first two Toy Story movies, it's clear that his batteries weren't fully charged when he wrote this song. It's pleasant enough, like even the most minor songs from Newman, but this just isn't his best work. Only in a year like this could this song be nominated.

"If I Rise" from 127 Hours
This is just an awful song with a dreadful three-note bass line that drives me up the wall. I'd be shocked if this actually won.

"Coming Home" from Country Strong
This is a pretty good country song - not as good as the best songs that are up for awards at the Country Music Association event - but one that is a standout in this group.

By the way, given that only four songs were nominated this year, I have a choice for the fifth nominee. That would be "Home" from Wall Street 2: Money Never Sleeps, written by David Byrne and Brian Eno. It's got a haunting melody and I love the lyrics, which question the security of home for all of us:

Home - such a funny feeling
Home - no one ever speaking

This is, without question, the best song I heard in a movie in 2010 and in opening the picture, it sets the table for the message that the film delivers. If it were up to me, this would have won the Oscar for Best Song this year.

But it wasn't nominated, so I'm going with "Coming Home", as it's easily the best of the nominated songs. But will enough voters have heard this song?

BEST CINEMATOGRAPHY
The nominees are:

“Black Swan” Matthew Libatique
“Inception” Wally Pfister
“The King's Speech” Danny Cohen
“The Social Network” Jeff Cronenweth
“True Grit” Roger Deakins

All first-rate pieces of work (as opposed to the Best Song options)- the Cinematographer's branch did an excellent job. To me this is between three films, so Black Swan and The Social Network don't stand a chance.

The King's Speech is a very pretty film to watch and it will have its supporters; it could win if the film wins a lot of other awards. But I think it's only a third favorite.

True Grit is another wonderful achievement from Roger Deakins, who is among the two or three finest directors of photography working today. It's also his ninth Oscar nomination and he's never won, so there might be some major support for him. But let's face it, as the awards are voted on by the entire Academy, how many people know the names of cinematographers? Still, as Grit has received a bundle of nominations, the voters may want to give the film at least one award, and this is the best possibility. I hope it does win, as it would be great for the Academy to finally honor Deakins for his remarkable career, ranging from The Shawshank Redemption to No County for Old Men and several other Coen brothers' films.

My pick actually is Inception and it boils down to this: the Academy will honor this film with several technical awards, as they have faced much criticism for not nominating Christoper Nolan for Best Director for this film. So they'll find a way to award this work with several Oscars. Also, this would be sweet justice for cinematographer Wally Pfister, who should have won this award two years ago for his brilliant work on The Dark Knight (I still can't believe that he lost out to Slumdog Millionaire - go ahead, watch the two films again and tell me that the cinematography in Dark Knight isn't far superior to Slumdog.)

And finally for the award everyone is eagerly awaiting - Short Film (Live Action), the winner will be God of Love. Don't ask me why.