Coriolanus (2011)

Artwork for Theatrical Release.

Very few people have the diligence and patience to do cinematic justice to Shakespeare, and this is even more true with one of the lesser known plays.  Which is why we have a thousand versions of 'Hamlet,' but only a few of Coriolanus.

If you are used to Kenneth Branagh's Shakespeares and their smooth, polished, traditional approach to visuals and narrative, then this film will pleasantly surprise you.

And that's the point.

It is not as perfect as one would have liked having been used to Branagh, but then again, this is Raph Fiennes.  Fiennes, in his directorial debut, manages to make Shakespeare feel immediate and contemporary, not just in subject matter and approach, but also in aesthetics and themes.

I have not been this thrilled or as excited watching Shakespeare since Julie Taymor's Titus (1999) showed me Shakespeare's sadistic, horrific side in the most visually pleasing way possible.

I hate the phrase; but now-a-days (blah) it seems like when you want to capture action, cinematographers automatically reach for the Steadicam, and air on the side of shaky compositions.  It pisses me off to no avail, because often they're really covering up for weak choreography or overdoing the intensity of the action, so that ultimately the audience can follow little of the real narrative, which ultimately is the purpose.

I see you there hiding behind your Steadicam operator Michael Bay [The Island (2005)].

You're fooling no one!

Coriolanus manages to dissuade this notion, with carefully orchestrated synchronicity between traditional fare and some of its more contemporary brethren.  The camera work is great, static with imaginative compositions when needed, handheld and claustrophobic and shaky only when dictated, and that alone deserves applause.

The art direction is flawless, seamlessly floating between modern warfare, classical pomp and rich lobbying.  Creating this otherworldly, ethereal smorgasbord of imagery that leaves you guessing the true intentions of the characters actions and the filmmaker's intentions.  Creating layers, upon layers, of intrinsically choreographed symbolism, often having esoteric arguments with the acting and script.  Not an easily garnered laurel, alas.

Fiennes's concept of the digital/physical revolution dialectical dialogue is brilliant and innovative.  Having rebels easily switch between using terse dialogue, automatic weapons, to hand combat, cell phone videos, portable cameras, and sometimes contentious use of the media machine.  Capturing very well the ebb and flow of a contemptuous mob, of a rebellion on the brink of both glory and failure, and of a protagonist that is both perfect and flawed, sometimes by the same characteristics.

The sound design is cacophonous when prudent and minimalistic in surprising ways.  Sometimes slightly altering the reverb on the voices of the characters to make them feel ominous and eerie, even if you don't understand one hundred percent every bit of poetry and prose flowing from the mouths of the actors.

As a side note:  If you have a hard time with Shakespeare, as I confess I do, watch it with subtitles.  The mix of action, visuals, and text make understanding and comprehending it much easier. If Babel (2006) has taught us anything is that you don't need to understand what the characters are saying necessarily, to comprehend the story or be impacted by it, or through it.  And that's the lesson people seem to forget when they brush these films aside simply because they don't understand the language.

Artwork for Theatrical Release.

Looking beyond the language, the color palette is very drab, including not a single crimson color.  Not in the blood, not in the sky, nowhere;  except the occasional deep forest green in Coriolanus's private world.

Some of the compositions are just beautiful and full of hubris, for the characters and the fimmaker.  Which again, is not an easy accomplishment, but Ralph Fiennes does it, and considering the complexity of his acting, one would assume almost haphazardly; but meticulousness is more like it.

The acting is beyond breathtaking, even from minor characters that serendipitously pop up on screen.

Vanessa Redgrave, as Coriolanus's mother and puppet master, is much creepier and dangerous than fifty Coriolanus put end to end.  In the process, establishing a creepier dependent relationship between son and mother, that has not existed since the Bates clan.

Ralph Fiennes's embodiment of Coriolanus wreaks of Marlon Brando's colonel in Apocalypse Now (1979), particularly in the last act when the final climactic set of actions are set against an advancing rebellion and a retreating superpower; whose editing, only eclipsed by Coriolanus's tragic demise, is spot on and exhilarating.  All culminating in the most powerful ending I have seen in film lately!

The only bad thing to be said of the film, has really nothing to do with the film itself, but with Netflix's compression, even through a moderately fast internet connection.  It washes the blacks and the excess of digital artifacts, even when nothing else is running in the background, is ridiculous.

Save yourself the hassle and buy this on Blu-ray, or if you're not a fan of Shakespeare, then go rent it, it's worth it.

"There's a world...elsewhere."

The Women (2008)

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The original film is an integral part of the greatest year in film history (1939), it was directed by a man often considered one of Hollywood's greatest Golden Age directors, and starred Norma Shearer, Joan Crawford, and a billion other Hollywood starlets.

Surely a modern remake will take what little good charm was left in favor of remakes as a whole after Psycho (1998), and let's say, exponentially increase it?

So here we go.

One minute in and halfway through a very unimaginative introduction and I hate it already.  

Oh boy!  

So it was a welcome surprise when the first narrative shot introduced, a bionic shopping view, for no other reason than to propagate a stereotype.  Which I have to add is welcoming, not two sequences in and I have two new worst film moments ever.  And that includes Howard the Duck (1986) and Gigli (2003).

And the truly sad thing is that the stereotypes don't end there.  

Yes the talkative nail salon girl was in the original.  Yes the cattiness was there and so was all the shopping.  But where as in the original it felt as a necessary vehicle for its social criticism and a way to progress the narrative, here it feels painful and awkward and ill-fit.

Most of the fault can be rightfully levied on the script.  From the beginning to the end, the script is full of horrible lines and exposition that makes almost every minute of this film cringe worthy, and that makes the job of the actresses on screen incredibly difficult, and while most of them do a phenomenal job with the raw material, most notably Cloris Leachman and Annette Bening, some, I'm looking directly at you Jada and Meg, do a not so good job.

Annette Bening and Debra Messing are phenomenal together, their scenes being one of the few saving graces of the film.  They have great chemistry and their comedic timing is spotless.

Jada Pinkett Smith on the other hand, is too much and overacts easily.  Maybe she should take a few classes from India Ennenga, who plays Meg Ryan's daughter, who manages to feel natural and well rounded in a film full of flat characters and characterizations.

I'm going to be honest (for once), I used to love Meg Ryan, specially in French Kiss (1995) with its pursed anuses and Kevin Kline as a Frenchman (!?), but here, after a bad set of plastic surgery fiascoes, she is no longer cute and manages even to come across closer to something like the Joker's lead henchman.  

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I'm sorry, henchwoman, although I hear that title get's you paid 17% less across the board.

Twenty-eight minutes in and I'm bored and I just don't care about Meg Ryan's character.  She only musters enough sympathy and glee around Bette Midler.  But I wonder how much of that is really Bette and those by now slight fond memories of the Meg Ryan of yesteryear.

You can't find respite from all the mundaneness even in the production itself.  The camerawork and editing are a bit off, forcing the pace of the film to feel uneven and vexing.

The montages suck, stink to high heaven, and are horribly staged and executed.  They obliterate all the good energy and vibes (what little of it) the film had built up, and gives nothing in return.  Which is worse considering how many of them are required to move the narrative along.

It's even more of a shame that you have to wait 99% of the film for something truly good and refreshing to come across in this film.  But I guess it's never too late.  The final scene presents the most realistic birth scene I can remember ever seeing on film, apart from the CGI birth in Children of Men (2006), even if the baby here came out squeaky clean.

But then again, that scene alone is not worth the whole jetliner, so just go watch Children of Men and leave with a good feeling about humanity and cheaper peanuts.

Skip this film, unless you need a pretense for masochism.

God!  What a waste of film that was!

No Country for Old Men (2007)

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It's been five years since this film was released and marked a truly remarkable seismic ripple in the cultural zeitgeist.  Everyone from the Simpsons to Saturday Night Live have mocked, parodied, insinuated, or simply mimicked the themes and characters of this film to varying degrees for effect.

As a rule of thumbs, I tend to stray from films that have a tendency to become a time sensitive infatuation, and as such, here I find myself, five years later, on a brisk early fall morning, in a particular mood to finally force myself to watch this film that has been sitting on my shelf for no less than a year.

The script is chillingly brilliantly, setting the pace for the film itself from the very beginning.  Monotonous at times, slow paced, brilliantly dialogued with the constant struggle of generational dichotomies.  It even manages to be comedic at times, most notably in its late snipe at those cantankerous nobodies, "accounting."

The narrative captures you, forcing you to ask questions, to get interested, to want to know more, or less, depending on how you swing.

The editing does a brilliant, deviant job at establishing the pace and tension.  A hood ornament leisurely pacing its way to no particular predetermined destination has never been a more ominous sign of trouble to come.  Morphing into a charging bull that is taking way too long to reach it's destination, heightening expectation, sliding you unconsciously closer to falling from the edge of your seat.

The art direction is pristine in its subtlety and attention to detail, down to the ring stains on the motel bedside table, establishing a sense of having been forgotten, of  natural solitude, and the unpredictability and serendipitous nature of destiny that drive these otherwise boring and disenfranchised characters on divergent tangents.

In the Coen's universe, even the cityscape, once the welcomed solace from trouble and preternatural menace, are brown and gray and tanned and isolated.  Mirroring the desert that so ominously framed the catalyst to the narrative.

Not serendipitously, there isn't a single flat character in the whole film.  Not the gas station attendant.  Not the hotel desk clerk.  Not the one percent mafiosi.  Even Javier Bardem's character, of whom nothing is known, is mysteriously well rounded, and you can thank Bardem for that, down to the organic, orgasmic feel of the first killing.

Bardem has embodied his character with a very deep growl here, very subtly menacing and disconcerting.  

No Country introduces a Bardem that is as far away from the enchanting, wayward artist from Vicki Cristina Barcelona, and closer to the emotionless killers of 70s and 80s horror films. Yet Bardem's psychopath is more chilling than Michael Myers or Jason Voorhees ever could be.  

By the end of his rampage you realize that Bardem's little twitches, his little anachronisms, his meticulous characterization, down to his way of killing, even his modus operandi, is one of a clean freak, and that's creepy.

Still frame from Simpson's episode, creepy haircut et al.

A killer with a dirt phobia beats a guy with blades on his fingers any day.

Tommy Lee Jones is as chilled as he can get, which is purposely disconcerting.  Kelly Macdonald is phenomenal (she's one of my cinephilic crushes) and a natural, even mastering an accent that is as far away from her native Scottish one as any other.  And Josh Brolin is the sort of antihero that flips between savant and pure ignorance with so much ease that you cannot figure out whether he's cool because he knows exactly what he's doing, or calm because he has no idea that he has no plan for what's coming.

Buy this film on Bluray, the cinematography is worth it.  Otherwise save money and get the DVD, the film will be around for a while.  Thankfully.

Babel (2006)

Artwork for Theatrical Release

On a completely unrelated hunch, on September 10th, I popped this film into my PS3, which until then, had been sitting on my shelf of things to watch for months.

I remember the film being heavy, and a bit of a bore, and hard to stomach, but even before the relevance of the Arab-winter (god I hate that phrase), the film had surprised me with insight, both cinematic and otherwise.

I loved the concept of no subtitles, which I realize might alienate some of the audience, which is exactly the point.  I understand Spanish and English, so I understood about half of the film, but watching the Middle-East sequences and the Japanese sequences makes me wonder what someone who speaks none of these languages would get out of it.  How about someone who speaks all of the languages.

I was half-tempted to put subtitles on a handful of times, but again that defaces the point of the film.  The film is shaped by what we understand and what we don't understand at the same time, even if we're not aware of it's tentacles.

Language aside, the other theme running rampant throughout the film, is the concept of serendipity.  In a bus full of people, why them?  In a country full of immigrants, why her?  It's a concept that drives the narrative forward in such a subtle and expressive way.

The editing is beautiful and harsh, and utterly unapologetic, which is essential in the course of the film.

The world of the film is a world we don't understand, and we're thrust on it, mercilessly, and the cinematography, art direction, and all other aspects showcase this methodically.  The film becomes intrinsically about the human condition, whatever that may be, seen through the eyes of human fear of the unknown.

For Iñarritu, film reality is about grittiness, lack of glamour, and lots of blood, but never in excess.  It is unrelenting, unapologetic, and beautiful and entrancing all the same.

Iñarritu bombards all your senses.  Allowing you to smell the goat skins curing in the hot sun, and then strips all of that in order for the audience to feel the utter isolation of the Japanese girl.  And it hurts.

Ultimately, the film becomes one of the most gut-wrenching things I've seen in quite some time.  And it hurts so good.

The acting never misses a beat, which is good, because it wouldn't work any other way.  It's a narrative so complex and replete with questions, that any film-aspect out of whack would have faltered the whole film and made it unbearable, and that's the beauty of the film that I missed on first viewing all those years ago.

The cinematography is beautifully executed and proper to its style and nature.

The camerawork is beautiful and well paced, and the Steadicam is used in such a convincing way, that it is the first time that it's use has not bothered me.

The sound design is phenomenal, not overpowering, but instead present just enough to illicit the necessary emotional responses.

The forgiveness of time for the sake of narrative is enamoring and wonderfully executed.

The sparse soundtrack is beautiful and entrancing, and the outro song by Chavela Vargas (you would recognize her as the old lady that sings to Salma Hayek in Frida) is so painful and proper that it hurts.

Alas, there is no way to watch this film non-prophetically in lieu of the death of the American Ambassador to Lybia.  And although I originally popped this film into my player on the 10th of September, serendipity intervened and I was unable to watch it until the next day.  And that changed the whole dynamic of the film.  Suddenly the news of the morning had been blasted on my screen, and I would have to deal with it.  But even without that background, the film stands solidly on it's own merits.

If you loved the destructive naivete of the characters in Atonement but left with too much of your soul intact, then Babel is the film for you.

Buy it now, it is worth it, even if you don't have the strength to watch it until later.  I feel it's one of those heavy films that time will slowly forget.

Sadly.

Atonement (2007)

Artwork for the Theatrical Release

My first impression of this film, when I watched it back in 2008, was one of awe and anger.  Awe at the explicit beauty of the film.  Awe at the cinematography, the acting, the narrative, and everything else cinematic.  But also anger at this stupid little girl, and her callousness, and all the derisive consequences brought upon by her maliciousness.

Most of that feeling has not changed.  As a matter of fact, it seems to have become more complexed and confusing, and awe-inspiring.

Atonement is pathetically painful on second watching, because you know what's coming, you know the con, you know the game.  But it lures you with its cinematography, it teases you with its sound design, it tugs at you with its script, to the point of catharsis, sheer cinematic ecstasy.

The perfect example of this multilayered buildup, is my realization of the complexity of the sound design and the imaginative instrumentation in the score, which are unexpected and brilliantly executed.  The subtle intonations of a clunky well worn typewriter.  At first clanking away, but soon joining the tempo of the score, all executed in a seemless way, leaving you to assess at which point did the narrator become so musical.  That bit, coupled with the busy buzzy bee trapped in the window, are two of the most memorable things from the film, and that's an unexpected, surprising emotion for a film that, upto that realization, had been so traditional in structure and fare.

The sound design is very thorough throughout, down to the last seconds of the last reel, providing symbolism while setting the pace for the story and hinting at the foreshadowing of things to come.

In execution, the film is very much British in style and presentation, which means the Art Direction is phenomenal.  Like most British films that cross the pond, this film is very literary, and treats every aspect of the film making process as a vehicle for that transgression.

Artwork for the Theatrical Release

The camera work is masterful in subtleties and pristine in purposefulness, working in tangent with the sound design to hide or showcase subjects as needed, building the complexities in the narrative structure and script.  The structure of the narrative functions to elevate what was already an interesting and complex story into one full of intrigue and suspense, and providing one of the best depressing endings.

Ever.

The script is brilliant and multilayered in all sorts of manners, and worth deconstructing and examining.  And the same could be said about the editing which is complex to the point of coming across as simplistic.  As an editor by profession, I can tell you that when the editing is best exercised, it is least noticeable, and least appreciated:  Let this not be one of those cases.

Noted.

Briony Tallis (amen to British adoration with name symbolism) as played by Saoirse Ronan is great:  Creepy, and troubled, and awkward, and childish, and sometimes surprisingly mature in her maliciousness even if naive in conviction or purpose.

Keira Knightley is so beautiful and so splendid an actress, even if in the mainstream, she's still just a pretty face, and that itself distracts from her talents. At times, she is so spectrally beautiful, justly so after all the injustices she's affected by at the hands of destiny, serendipity, and a morbidly horrible little girl.

Atonement is ultimately a story of pain, hurt, horror, penance, and the prayers we toss to the wind, for love, for war, for family, for life.

Try not to cry at the end.  Try not to feel utter pitty for Briony.  Try not to feel miserable.

Miserable but enlightened, and that's all you can ask from a film.

Even if you can't decide whether you can forgive someone who is in so much pain atoning.

Buy this film on Blu-ray, the Art Direction is worth it, even if you're not a particular fan of Keira's astonishing distracting beauty.

There I go, I lost my focus, oh well.

Black Snake Moan (2006)

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Black Snake Moan is a raucous story of two lives, in perfect synchronicity on a symmetrically downward spiral, and the editing makes no attempt to hide it.

The script, which for the first 80% is spot on, twirls the characters steam-rolling towards their personal black snake moan, providing, in the most opportune of times, the most unlikely of saviors in the most unsavory of circumstances.

It is above all else, a very interesting take on the bonds of humanity and the bonds of religion and the fragility of the human mind and spirit.

The editing, in supporting that theme, is spot on and worth studying, but the most remarkable aspect is the music and the purposeful sound design and editing, and the awe-inspiring cinematography.  There are justly, some beautiful, cool and purposeful shots.

Very beautifully shot and stylized with a just and proper twang, music and all.  It is gritty and imperfect and full of fucked-up characters, much like the backwoods blues that Samuel L. Jackson's character intones with.

The only complaint plastered on my notes sheet, is a quick quip about Justin Timberlake's high octave voice.  It's more poignantly a snarky comment about his acting, but I think his acting is actually fine, his voice just strikes weirdly in the TV speakers.

I have found it to be a much better film on a second viewing:  Coming out of it, with a completely different morality and appreciation for the film than I did 5 years ago.  I don't half expect this film to make it's way to the mainstream, which is a shame because it's beautifully done.  But to deal with this film, you must deal with your own moans, and I'm afraid very few people watch films to do this. 

The film glosses not over some of the most jarring and uncomfortable topics in any civilization; coarse sexuality, blatant religiosity, adverse poverty, rampant racism, and rape.  If you can pick even one of those topics and find a complete stranger to carry a conversation about it, then kudos to you, but you are lying to no one.

This film on the other hand, manages to handle them with the most humane of attitudes, without preaching or passing judgement.  The film is about facing up to your demons and learning to deal with them, and there it succeeded in my second viewing.

The film does feel longer than the 115 minutes of running time appropriated to it, and that's not bad, the pace is expertly maintained and well managed.

Black Snake Moan, stands in my mind, as a true example of film-making at its most hedonistic.  And beautifully so.

Buy this film on Blu-ray when it comes out, if ever.  The DVD version that I have, which is the original release, has a bad compression which makes some of the more expansive shots hard to read on my 35 inch HD TV.

Hannah Montana: The Movie (2009)

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Once you shed all pretension, it's actually a lot of fun to watch, and ultimately no different in approach or execution than most other Hollywood films, and a lot better than the majority of non-Pixar Disney films recently.

Miley Cyrus has really good comedic timing, and her physical comedy comes natural to boot, which is a fresh breath compared to the script.  You don't have to look farther than early in the first act of the film to enjoy the best of both of these, in the form of a duke-fest between Miley and Tyra Banks that stretches a second or two farther than it should have, but is still very fun to watch.

The changing wigs to change alter-egos and fool everyone is bit and as enthralling and believable here as Clark Kent's glasses, but a lot cuter.  Then again though, when you watch this film you have to suspend disbelief et al, even if that clause is pushed to the extreme in the switcharoo climax scene.  One that never worked in The Flinstones, The Simpsons, or any other sitcom in American TV history.  Yet here, with an emotional surprise ending, it fits and works just fine.

Now listen, roll your eyes all you want, but it truly is an enjoyable film, with a heavy dose of pop music, which I love, but if you don't you might have to approach carefully. For those that like pop, the final song, is pretty sweet and very hopeful, even if frilly.

Having said that, I did have a hard time categorizing this film.  I have it down as drama, but the truth is that, by design and default, there is a heavy handedness of musical interludes in the film, most of which are appropriate and enjoyable.

The camera work and cinematography is spotless even if elementary in execution and purposefulness, and that's not a bad thing, really.  A film of this nature would be unbearable with any different approach, and that's just fine with me.

Margo Martindale, playing Miley's grandmother and the family matriarch, is phenomenal and a welcomed unexpected surprise.  Although in typical oxymoronic fashion, I was equally enthused when Taylor Swift showed up for a musical cameo.

Yay!

This film, is about as much frivolous fun as a Billy Ray Cyrus song...without the guilt trip or the mullet...or the creepy chin hair, and surprisingly touching and deep, specially in the father/daughter dynamic.


I bought this film from someone who had forgotten to return it to one of those DVDs by mail movie clubs, and was surprised by the fact that I loved it.  I've watched it about a half dozen times since, and I like it more than my four year-old daughter ever has.

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So don't be fooled into thinking you're buying it for a toddler, although I think a preteen or early teen might get a good kick out of it in the same way that my generation got a kick out of the Little Giants (1994).

If you don't have a soft spot for pop or frivolity, than catch this film on Netflix or Hulu or OnDemand (if available, I haven't checked).

If you hate pop, then skip this film, and may god help you, you grumpy old toad.



addendum:

Here is a link to a great 20 minute interview with Margo Martindale on NPR...go listen (click here)

Salmon Fishing in the Yemen (2011)

Not surprising, but whatever.

Not inspiring, but who cares.

Alot of fun, and that is the most important part.

A rom-com it is, but if you're not used to British romantic sensibilities, then be warned.  The ones that cross the pond tend to be a bit more complex and interlaced with touchy subjects that a Hollywood romance would not touch with a Winston 9' GVX 8-weight rod, I mean pole.

This one is no exception.  In the vast canon of both successes and failures, this film stands proudly next to Girl in the Cafe (2005), a film that still gives me shivers because of its brilliance, and The Truth About Love (2005), who boasts a different sort of shudder (Jennifer Love Hewitt's balmy British accent).

The only forced thing here, and this is truly the sad part, is the one thing that made Girl in the Cafe (2005) great; politics.  And it's not really the politics itself, that was seamlessly woven in, but really juts out and hurts, is the execution of the extremism that it's trying to make a point about.  And that weakens it.

That apart, and it's truly a very small fraction, almost infinitesimal, the film is perfect to its core, through and through.

It is very well shot, with methodical camera movements, that make me oh so jealous and envious, and ever so desiring for a shot at aiming for what they have managed to attain here.

The script is exceptional.  Very subtly funny and cleverly written to boot.

It is, above all else, a classic sort of perfectly poised film, where you forget that these mega-stars are not these rich characters, even when you are slapped in the face with these two very recognizable actors, illuminated at their best.

Although not as perfect as Closer (2004) or as immaculately twisted as Cabaret (1972); it is still worth the watch, even if you can guess where it's going a million miles away.

Catch this film even if it's impossible to film (trust me, it was).  It is beautiful and effervescent and irrevocably beautiful in all aspects cinematic.

addendum:

And now I'm pandering to my wife's people...the picture of the Cadis Fly is anything but.  Continue.

The Artist (2011)

Artwork for French Theatrical Release

The Artist (2011) was well done and refreshing, but I have yet to resolve whether it was the best film of 2011.  I guess it might have to do with how close to the Oscars this film was released, either way it's puzzling.

I loved the film, even if I felt that the beginning of the film was a bit too slow even in introducing archetypes, which most of the characters really are, and it's here really there that the former argument is its strongest.  If most of the characters are archetypes, the unknown ingenue hitting it big, the big star staunchly refusing to change, the materialistic trophy wife, the forward thinking studio owner, then where does this film draw it's depth?

That too is puzzling.

The cinematography is proper, even if some of the shots are too flat. 

The sound design is sparse, but pristinely executed. 

And the acting is spot on, always drawing you into the drama, never away.  You recognize all the faces, yes; but that quickly fades away, and all you see if the character's face, never the actors.

The music is spot on and moving in its simplicity and complexity.  And although the story itself is neither new nor inventively treated, the package as a whole makes up for it.

Buy it on Blu-ray and promptly place it next to your copy of American Beauty (1999), I fear in a couple of years this film will be part of the perennial arguments about Best Picture Oscars and their worthiness.

Closer (2004)

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Although my daughter is named Natalie because of the resonant nature of the performance from the then Ms. Portman, I might not be able to tell her that until after she's 18.

Maybe 30.

Maybe forty.

What an intense film, one of my favorites, and definitely one of the best films ever made.  Even if it has been a bit lost to time in the last eight years.

I must admit that I can't watch it all the time, and I bet neither will you.

There's an unrelenting intensity to these four actors (Julia Roberts, Jude Law, Natalie Portman, and Clive Owen) that pushes you to the edge of your seat for 103 minutes.  Fancies your erogenous.  Pesters your sanity.  Molests your morality.  And enlivens your adulterations, while cautioning you to be canonising throughout.

It is as impeccable a script as you can find, laying out the prose.  Playing with structure and time constraints.  Managing to span nearly five years in one-hundred minutes, and doing so with the fluidity and ease of an octogenarian's reminisce.  Skipping forward, backward, sideways, all without notice, leaving you trying to decide whether you should figure out what happened, or to simply move ahead and try to understand what's happening.

It is migraine inducing, but yet somehow manages to not feel fragmented.

The cinematography takes that perfected prose and upends it to poetry, and what a great thing it is to watch.

But you don't have time for that.  The scripts pulls you ahead and intertwines you lucidly into this web of lovers, although reality might find them more contrived.

They're all assholes, yes.  But you have to decide who to believe if anyone at all.

You start out being disgusted by Clive Owen, and although he never changes (none of the characters really do, they just reveal themselves), he's the one you end up loving.

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Not the conniving, puny, crybaby Jude Law.

Not the jubilant, sly, brash, aggressive, and confounding Natalie Portman.

And most definitely not the complicated and narcissistic, even if tragic Julia Roberts.

The film is ultimately a character film, although a lot does happen throughout, and although you'll leave in pain and dumbfounded, the actors are a joy to watch.  They are at the top of their game.

If you love phenomenal films.  Heavy yes, but phenomenally so.  Then buy this film, although I should warn you to get a better release than my 2005 DVD release:  The compression used for telecining, manages to make fast camera movements look horrible.

This film is destined to be around forever, at least on my shelf.  Enjoy.

The Duchess (2008)

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It turns out, I had already seen this film before.  I'm not sure why I had forgotten it, but I can say that I probably originally watched it because of Keira Knightley, and she, as always, did not disappoint.  I would have continued to chuck it up to deja-vu if not for my wife coming and setting me straight.

The film itself is not really an easily identifiable stand out and that's probably why I had forgotten it.  but it deserves to be remembered and emulated.  It is beautiful in all senses of the word, and what struck me the most, is what is often easily overlooked, and creates the most confusion come Oscar time; sound design and editing.

All the literary elements in the film are subtly hinted in the sound design.  The sound design creates the undercurrent of trepidation and danger in all the sex scenes.  It gives you the undeserved sense of calm and lucidness during the tea scenes.  It smacks you in the face with the drollness of pedantic daily life tick by tock.  And it warns you about getting comfortable with a soft, but menacing low drum or bellow.  It is above all else, simply exquisite.  The best sound design I have heard in any film since Zodiac (2007). 

The other refreshing thing is watching Keira Knightley act, and that's enlightening.  Usually her acting is hidden or easily deterred by her beauty or her enticing smile.  But here, the little nuances in her eyes and body language are delicious, even if you are still sometimes distracted by her devilish wickedness.

As usual, Ralph Fiennes is wittingly evil and cold.  But there is, at the end of the film, a scene of utter intimacy from Mr. Fiennes.  The scene is entirely composed of medium shots and close-ups all of them beautifully composed.  It is here that Fiennes, after 90 minutes, is finally sympathetic and that is simply earth shattering, even if I can't figure out why.

Artwork for Theatrical Release

One could, I suppose, see The Duchess as a philosophical treatise on the American and French Revolution, and the film certainly makes the comparison easy.  Throughout, the characters are shaped and informed by the events occurring abroad, and it is these foreign acts that draw the themes in the most subtle of ways, until Ralph Fiennes smacks you with it.

It is a period piece, that should not be a surprise to you, I hope, but it is a film that is preceded by it's modern themes.   The Duchess's England is one that is beautiful, but also one that is full of traitors and hushed words, as menacing and enticing as Keira's smile.

Sacrifice, the limits of love, duty, familial ties, hubris, pleasure, neediness, and above all else, freedom and liberation and all the adult pain that emanates from these decisions endure throughout the film, making this one of the deeper more dense films about maturity.


Watch this film now.  If you like period pieces, Ralph Fiennes, or Keira, then buy this film, I'm sure it would be stunning on Blu-ray, just don't get mad when your friends can't remember this film exists. 

Shame on them.

Oh yeah, I just remembered why it's forgettable.  It's a film about sexual maturity, but it manages to not show any nudity, except the top two hairs of Ralph Fiennes pubic hubric. 

Discuss.

The Scarlet Empress (1934)

Artwork for the 2001 Criterion Collection DVD Release

You can't really get away from her, both in character and out.

No one really flirts like Marlene Dietrich, not even Marilyn, and that makes her the perfect Catherine alongside Josef von Sternberg to advise her.

Whereas Marilyn is fun and fragile and sexy in her flirting, Dietrich manages to be sultry and sensual.  Hot enough to melt the paint, but not as much fun if you're on the toiling end of her mischievous ways.

It is this cruel and relentless, whatever the female version of womanizer is, that gives this film its best glimpses of raw and radiant energy.  Every frame has been methodically planned and executed, and it is ever so brilliant in the latter.

I first saw this film while studying film history before the Hay's code in Paris in 2005, and although I must confess that I completely forgot the context, the imagery stuck to my core.

The grotesque, but beautiful, and ever so judging Gothic statues and saints that adorn the palace.  The skeleton holding the cauldron.  The gigantic two headed griffon on the mast of the throne, it's all so lush and claustrophobic, even when nothing else occupies the frame.  It sets the Kremlin apart from Prussia in style and manner, even before a word is spoken.

This Russia is not welcoming, not to the nobles, not to it's peasants, and most definitely not to its future empress, and this is well before any of von Sternberg's tactless and brutally 'honest' inter-titles has its chance at the limelight.

In this conniving and paranoid Russia, you get the sense that the mise-en-scene is there to spy, not simply to create atmosphere.

For those, like myself and my wife, who either were not aware of the salaciousness of pre-code cinema (and I must thank the pristinely knowledgeable Katherine D'Alessandro here for her notes on the subject), The Scarlet Empress (1934) makes no qualms about it, and reminds you with a bucket of ice, how foolish you are.  There's nudity, overt mentions of infidelity and masochism, and casual mentions of lovers, swingers and otherwise.  But it's all done in style and stylized to the point of not mattering, you have other preoccupations here, and all that seems simply shallow.

The editing is spectacular.  The lighting is spot on.  The costume design is beautiful and enjoyable.  And von Sternberg's comedic timing, is spotless when needed.

In rare fashion, all its components function for a single goal.  Creating an ecstatic study in layers.  Lights and shadows.  Foreground and Background.  In focus and soft.  Soft textured materials and rough.  It is all delicious and beautiful.  Never out of place, always clamoring for your attention, never deterring it from the subject.

If you're looking for one of the most influential, and least recognizable directors, watch this film.  It has hints of Burton (he has mention von Sternberg as an influence) and hints of Marie Antoinette ().

Buy it now, if you can find a clean copy.  I watched the Criterion Collection DVD from 2001, and it was dirty and scratchy.

It is fun and sexy and smart and witty, just don't look at Dietrich to make love to you.  Pop in Marilyn for that.

Inglourious Basterds (2009)

Artwork for Theatrical Release.

It's really hard to love Quentin Tarantino, the man; but very easy to adore Tarantino, the director.

Listen to Tarantino do an interview and I dare you to go a full 12 rounds before wanting to deck him in the mouth.  The man knows his stuff (sic.), but he's bucolically annoying when it comes time to explain himself.

Thankfully, you can enjoy his films without listening to him, for the most part, although no one will fault you for going on a munchies break during his scene in Pulp Fiction (1994).

For those that loved Reservoir Dogs (1992) and Pulp Fiction, but loathed the Kill Bill couplet (2003 & 2004) or just couldn't understand it (count me in), Inglourious Basterds is a welcomed return to what made Pulp Fiction so enjoyable, memorable and groundbreaking.


With Pulp Fiction he touched on the nuances of exploitation films of all sort:  Something that he managed to take and overuse in the Kill Bill films, resulting somehow in an utterly beautiful stylized film that I loved visually, but couldn't really stomach too much.

Here, with Inglourious Basterds, he manages to tone it down and hone it into a tool that maintains the pace and themes of the film.  Doing the job of exposition here.  Doing the job of levity there, always in a cinematic way.

God I hate him.


True to format, the music is beyond perfect.  It is the rare musical instance that doesn't elevate the film beyond the limits of emotions.  The timing and tone is always perfect, and here is where Tarantino's douchyness comes out.  He manages to find obscure and oft forgotten songs that fit perfectly in completely irrelevant circumstances.

And make it work!

I hate him so much.

It is one of these instances, the projection room climactic sequence, that finally shows, after all this time, that Tarantino has a bit of a heart, albeit a twisted, ironic heart.

Buy this film now on BluRay.  Watch it when the kids fall asleep, and slowly slide into utter vitriolic amorous hatred.

I swear that's a thing.

For anybody questioning his douchie intentions and self realization, you need not look any farther than the closing line in the film.

"You know Utivich, this might just be my masterpiece."

You sir, are such a dick!

Secretary (2002)

Artwork for Theatrical Release

"Assume the position."

I originally watched this film in theaters in New York City, when it originally came out, and it made such an indelible connection in my brain, that some of the images never left my brain.

It is therefore no surprise that when recently all this talk arose regarding Fifty Shades of Grey, I automatically thought about Secretary, and made (no exaggeration) 7 attempts to read the book.  Each time giving up a page into the book.  I am now at the end of chapter 1, and I'm throwing the towel in.

Horrible writing.  Pure adulterated horrible writing.

Secretary on the other hand is just utterly gorgeous.

In the 10 years since I saw this film, I had forgotten some of the more memorable shots in the film.  I'm assuming I was more interested in the sexual side of the film, and who wouldn't be.

But take a closer look and you'll be rendered speechless by the romantic intonations of the film.  Yes they are both, James Spader and Maggie Gyllenhaal, completely crazy in this film.  But even crazies deserve love, and what better way to do it than through a beautiful fetish, film.

The camera work is phenomenal, the editing is unnoticeable (which makes it perfect), the acting is spot on and raw, but perhaps the most stunning aspect of the film, is a part that maintains its utter subtlety throughout, the music.

It's there throughout the film, never really stopping, just softly humming away, barely noticeable, until it crescendos in the most beautiful and perfectly times place.  I just loved it.  I haven't been that happy about a few bars of music since Jingle Bells.

Buy this film now, save yourself the hassle of reading Fifty Shades.  If you want porn, go watch it.  If you want great film making watch Secretary (2002) right now.

"Assume the position" indeed.

Shame (2011)

Artwork for the French Theatrical Release

It's a shame that this movie is known as the sex-addict's film, when really the sex thing is a condition of the real problems of the characters, and that, when discovered, is more twisted and perverse.

It is of course overtly sexual, duh!  So if you are insulted by this, then move along.  You will hate this film from the very first penis shot to the last.

But even from the beginning, the film is utterly beautiful.  This, one could say, is the main aesthetic of the film, beautiful disturbance.  And it never ends, just gets worse/better.

The interplay between the music and the shots, sometimes classical music, sometimes remastered American standards in a slightly off-putting cover are always spot on.  Always the right emotional chords at the right moment.

The editing adds to this general unnerving feeling, and Michael Fassbender's acting, sometimes monotonous and sometimes wrought with overflowing pain and cries for empathy, are coupled in a way that elevates this film to a magnificent and entrancing level.

There's a fleeting shot at the end of the film that I am enamored with, and I believe it sums up the whole experience.  Michael Fassbender is in an apparently very confined elevator, having run god knows how  many blocks.  He is completely out of breath panting, and in the most subtle way, the camera pants with him, coming in and out of focus on the elevator walls, revealing the beautiful fine pattern on the elevator wall, creeping all over the wallpaper.  

It is, at the same time hypnotic and disturbing.

As such, buy this film now on Blu-ray and save it for prosperity, because god knows you will never find this film on TV. 

 Just remember to make sure that your kids are asleep in the other room, with the door locked.  They'll never appreciate the beauty.  

Oh yeah, and it's disturbing as well.  

Discuss.

Gone (2012)

Artwork for Theatrical Release

As far as whodunits, it is a fairly well done one.  A classic it is not, but it is definitely worth the time.

The script is a bit weak (although I doubt most people would care) and some of the acting is a bit shallow and not well directed.  But the rest of the film compensates for it.

The intro is really cool, and sets the unnerving mood for the rest of the movie.  Even if you had not seen the trailer, or the poster, or if you didn't automatically assume that Amanda Seyfried looks thrilled on purpose here, the first five minutes would get the point across.  

The intro shots are beautifully rich, the color timing is perfect, the camera angles slowly lurch towards creeping, and the subtle music ingrains itself in your soul without you realizing it.  

By the end of it, you're wondering what the hell was that, and what the hell is wrong with this girl, even though she has done nothing more than walk through a forest.

Amanda's acting is a bit off sometimes, but I blame the script on that, and maybe a bit of the directing, although the rest of the film leans my opinion more towards it being the former rather than the latter.

The editing, mixed with the composition worked beautifully in conjunction with each other, sometimes compensating for the err of the script.

Unless you've already spent your money watching this in the theaters, just watch it On Demand or through online streaming, although, if you are a fan of good dark, moody cinematography, rent this on Blu-ray and enjoy.

Prometheus (2012)

Artwork for Theatrical Release

I know you guys are a fan of my many superlatives, and I swear I shall get a Thesaurus soon (ask your parents, maybe grandparents), but the film was truly phenomenal.

As a fan of the Alien films (read: never AVP), I fear that although there are hints of those films strewn throughout here, they really only exist in the same universe and not really in the same timeline or instance.  Therefore, don't go watch it expecting Aliens or anything like it.

This film is less gritty and grungy, and more sharp and clean, and although there is a lot of moodiness and unnerving feelings, the prevailing mood for most of the movie is one of hope, and that alone distinguishes it from the Alien films.

The cinematography was phenomenal, and the camerawork that accompanied it was on par.  Apart from the acting, which was some of the best that I have seen from Ridley Scott, the pieces of the film that stick to you are the score and the sound design.  Sometimes obvious, sometimes subtle, sometimes quiet, sometimes cacophonous; it is always precisely what is needed.

Not that I needed a reason, but I now have two new film crushes, Michael Fassbender and Noomi Rapace.  They both managed to do great tour-de-force jobs with a script that was irksome at times.

The only minor complain regarding the film is one that was echoed from Snow White and the Huntsman (2012), and that is the fact that Charlize Theron's character was not deep and broad enough to satisfy me.  There are hints of her acting brilliance, but for the most part she is relegated to the background.  There are insinuations as to who her character might be, but they are never truly envisioned through her, and that is a shame.

Having said that, go watch the film on IMAX 3D, it was worth it.  The visuals are spectacular, in particular the intro fly-overs which are reminiscent of the fly-overs in 2001:  A Space Odyssey (1968), and with the IMAX experience coupled with the flawless 3D, it is a sight to see.

Snow White and the Huntsman (2012)

Artwork for Theatrical Release

Not sure if it will survive the tides of time, but it is a pretty enjoyable film, regardless of its flaws.

The cinematography is visually stunning, even if some of the camera work was questionable and lacked inspiration or direction.  And the same could be said about the music, which is sadly composed by James Newton Howard, whose notables spans 133 films including Christopher Nolan's Batman trilogy.

The editing was good, even if not noticeable, which is both good and bad, depending on what you are looking for in films [see 127 Hours (2010) for phenomenal editing].

Kristen Stewart's acting seemed as lucid and tepid as everyone claims, although I have not seen her act in anything else, so I can make no claims on her acting otherwise.  Although, I have to say, that just as Channing Tatum's emotional speeches in The Vow (2012) bother me to no avail, the same can be said about Stewart's supposedly take arms against the queen speech.  Blah!

Although technically billed as an action drama (notice poster if you feel like questioning it) the film did not have enough action to satisfy the testosterone laden, and not enough romance to satisfy anyone else.

Watch the film in the theaters if you can manage it during this summer, the visuals are worth it.  Otherwise rent it when it makes its way to On Demand or otherwise.  Although, I might buy the BluRay just to see how they seamlessly made, among others, Nick Frost, Bob Hoskins and Ian McShane into the dwarves.

The Vow (2012)

Artwork for Theatrical Release

It's like watching a film that throughout scratches at greatness, but falls short.  It's still enjoyable, yes, but it most definitely is not The Notebook (2004) and it falls miserably short of being a classic.

Let me get the bad stuff out of the way first, although I must preface by saying that I actually liked the movie.

The costume design or wardrobe person in charge of Channing Tatum should never be hired again, it was by far the most annoying part of the film.  Nothing fit right, and what's worse, it detracted from him, which, might or might not be a good thing for him.

Channing Tatum is no Ryan Gosling [Crazy Stupid Love (2011)] and that's a shame, because that alone could have made the film great, but I guess you need to avoid The Notebook (2004) comparisons as much as possible, what with the memory thing already front and center.  But Channing Tatum lacks the acting breadth to carry a serious Romantic film.  Maybe something more fluffy, but certainly not this.

The script was uneven.  There were times when I loved it, and there were times where I hated it enough to make notes on my notepad.

But that aside, if you are a fan of Rachel McAdams, as yours truly, then definitely watch this film, she is great in it.  When she flirts, she flirts with you, when she acts, she is honest and earnest, and that was a breath of fresh air.

Her climactic scene with Jessica Lange was thoroughly enjoyable.  Like watching two supernovas feeding energy off of each other.  The eye twitches, the hand gestures, the proper eye contact, and the even more proper embarrassment and looking away, it was great.

The camera work was great for a Romantic Drama, and the Color Timing is thought out and perfectly executed.

Watch the movie, just please, don't expect greatness, and be glad that it's not Cafe (2011) or I Hate Valentine's Day (2009).

New Year's Eve (2011)

Artwork for Theatrical Release

Let me say, straight off, that I don't mind ensemble films like this.  They are nearly as old as cinema itself [think The Women (1939)].

Having said that, I must defend these films.  Often people don't come to the film with a clear understanding of the sheer math of the situation, and the way that changes the dynamics of the film.

First billing alone, there are 17 actors/actresses.  On a movie that is 118 minutes, that is an average of less than 7 minutes of screen time per person.  And that doesn't include the very recognizable and sometimes bigger stars that make cameos or simply didn't want to be billed first.

They include John Lithgow, Carla Gugino, Common, Cary Elwes, Russell Peters, Yeardley Smith, Penny Marshall, Hector Elizondo, Ryan Seacrest, Alyssa Milano, Jim Belushi, Matthew Broderick, Cherry Jones, Michael Bloomberg, and Larry Miller, and those are just the ones that I recognized and could name.  I will save you the math with these names added.

The movie itself is not bad.  It's full of cliches.  It's full of flat characters.  And it's full of stereotypes.  But what else can you expect in a film that has at least 6 story arcs and multiple minor ones.

It has some great moments with Seth Meyers, some uniquely phenomenal acting from Robert Deniro, John Lithgow, Halle Berry, and Hilary Swank, and some of the shots are even great.

It's not better than Valentine's Day (2010), and nowhere near Paris je t'aime (2006), so save yourself the hassle and watch those.  Unless you've seen them, and have a major crush on most of the people in this film, like I do, in which case watch it.

But be warned, half way through, you won't care what happens, my wife didn't and off she went to browse the web on her iPad.