Notes from the Cinematic Fringe

My apologizes to Ms. Hartwig, as I stole Friend-licia to watch Boston the other night so The Wife and I could catch a movie in Century City.  It was a last minute call and we got lucky that Friend-licia was on her way back from Coachella.  After a quick debate over several movies we decided to see Hanna, the new film from director Joe Wright who most recently directed The Soloist, but don’t hold that against him.  He took a departure from his usual fare of sentimental melodrama and brings us a coming-of-age tale masked as an action film.  I only wish he spent as much time working over the script as he did working over the soundtrack.

It starts off beautifully in the frozen forests of Finland with only natural light illuminating the scenes.  We’re introduced to Hanna (Saoirse Ronan from Wright’s Atonement) as a cunning hunter that takes down a majestic reindeer with a single arrow.  Make no mistake, this young sweet looking girl is a predator and dangerous.  She was trained for one mission by her father Erik (Eric Bana) and that is to be a weapon seeking revenge for the death of her mother.  She has been living with Erik her entire life, isolated in a cabin in the woods reminiscent of the Grimm Fairy tales of which she is so fond.  Soon after the script sets Hanna up as the agile predator, we see a gentler moment with her father where she asks him what music sounds like.  This girl is ready to grow up.  Knowing that she is ready Erik allows her to make the decision to activate a beacon that will signal his CIA nemesis, Marissa Wiegler (Cate Blanchett).

From the moment Hanna activates the beacon the film is directed down a path that is part Run, Lola, Run and part coming of age tale.  The mixed genre actually played well.  She would go from driving shotgun next to Olivia Williams with gold light flickering through her blonde hair to knocking in the teeth and slitting the throats of middle-aged men set to the adrenaline-pumping score by The Chemical Brothers.  It is a refreshing change to the typical assassin-that-finds-his-heart storyline.  This is a girl who has only known only objective and as soon as she believes that objective achieved, she is free to explore the world and Ronan plays the part with an endearing innocence that makes you forget just how lethal this girl can be.

Eric Bana’s character was as cold and flat as the Finnish lake where we first met him.  At times it became difficult to tell if it were character choices Bana had made or if it were just a disconnected performance. The bond I thought we should feel between Erik and Hanna wasn’t there. I felt like he was just playing his character from Munich, at least the accent was the same as was his keen ability to kill.  He wasn’t in the film enough to be a real distraction for me, during the movie I was really just drawn into Hanna’s character as this deadly teen struck with an insatiable wanderlust and gentle spirit.  One performances that stood out, although her character was annoying, came from Jessica Barden.  If a character is written to be annoying and then succeeds in annoying you, kudos to the actress.  She provided much needed comic relief and appropriately provided an outlet for her exploration of sexuality.  They never do anything, but she does introduce Hanna to boys and they share a small kiss, but the truth is you cannot become of the world without a sexual awakening.  It was handled with delicacy and humor.  There is a temptation when handling a female coming-of-age story to exploit her sexuality and Wright avoided that temptation, which I applaud.

It would be unfair to the film to claim that major plot holes distracted me.  The only time I wasn’t fully on board with this plot was when a man named Issacs tracked down Hanna.  Issacs is played by the familiar face Tom Hollander, who was fantastic in In The Loop.  You’ll probably recognize him from the Pirates of the Carribbean movies. But he’s commissioned by Marissa to track Hanna down and he finds her almost immediately.  Perhaps I blinked, but it seemed highly unlikely that he would stumble upon the hotel she stayed in when she didn’t give her name, didn’t pay, wasn’t seen and slept in the back room.  But, let’s forget it and just enjoy the chase.

Now, after the credits had rolled and The Wife and I made it safely back to our car we started talking about things we liked about the movie.  Big questions arose (and major spoilers are a-coming). Why the elaborate plan for revenge when it seems they could have just killed Marissa without all the fanfare?  Marissa attacked Erik years ago by just stepping into the street and shooting him.  They couldn’t have done something similar? I guess then there wouldn’t be a movie, but why not track her down, follow her home and shoot her?  Then we got on the topic of who Hanna is, what she is.  It’s a typical “twist” to the story and for me that is where the third act started to go awry. I wanted Hanna to be a girl that was finely trained, nothing more.

But what can you do? These bigger questions didn’t distract me much in the moment, and Mr. Dill always said you should let your first viewing just wash over you.  Later, you can go back and analyze what worked, what didn’t and why.

thanks, movie poster, now I have to look up the distinction between "further" and "farther"

With more and more close friends starting to get positions in film and television it can become difficult remain objective when watching movies they’ve worked on.  It becomes even more difficult when you’re joining that friend, along with others, to watch the movie during its opening weekend. So, from two weeks ago. Opening film: Insidious.  Location: The Grove.  In attendance: a small group of film friends, myself and my wife.  Our friend’s position: additional editor. The Wife and I arrived a bit late, right in the middle of the previews and were feeling a bit rushed, but sat comfortably, calmed down and got ready for this latest movie from James Wan, the director of the original Saw. Knowing Wan I was anticipating another gore fest style film that passes off as horror these days. Wan surprises us by resisting the temptation to “gross out” and gives us some genuine thrills – but that doesn’t excuse some very clear flaws.

He manages to build slow tension through the first two acts, which a lot of credit goes to the pacing provided by some pretty tight editing.  Alaniz, if you’re responsible for any of that, well done.  Yet, it’s a very typical horror film setup; a seemingly perfect family gets a new house and slowly things start to haunt them.  It’s a bit eerie and it’s fun to whisper back and forth with The Wife – did you see something in that shadow? didn’t she already put those books away? I think I hear children voices, why are kids’ voices so scary? oh! shit, what just crossed camera? I see a face in the drapes!! And goosebumps. Jumps. An early scare is the best in the film done with a quick edit and hard-hitting bass sound effect. It made my stomach sink through my back and I felt a throb from my heart in my abdominal cavity that was now vacant, because remember my stomach exited out my lower back.

But lulls occur.  We’re given too much time to think and inevitably logic starts to creep into your mind.  It has to.  I’ve mentioned the suspension of disbelief before, it’s essential to watching a movie and was one of the first screenwriting lessons I was ever taught (thank you William Missouri Downs).  But logic has to creep into your mind.  I’m a logical creature, we are all, aren’t we?  Most of us any way?  But when you are creating a world, which is exactly what filmmaking is, you’re creating a world and inviting an audience along, then you must create and adhere to your own logic.  I don’t care what it is. You can create a world in which gravity apparently exists in space and you can freely walk around the Millenium Falcon (and i don’t care if some fanboy knows a device that explains this phenomenon).  You can create a world where angels walk among us and listen to the sunrise (that’s a Wings of Desire reference, do not think City of Angels you damned philistine). But once you create the world you are now directly and indirectly communicating some logic of this world to your audience and they are going to see the holes.  This is when the whispers become less fun.  It’s more like you’re trying to solve a puzzle that you feel you should enjoy, but you’re starting to wonder if you were given all the right pieces.  Or many given too many!  Why do I have six corner pieces? AH!

– why is that ghost licking her face? – why does he look like Bane from Batman? – why would a ghost listen to Tiny Tim? why would a person listen to Tiny Tim? – what do you mean they aren’t ghosts? – (spoiler alert!) what do you mean the boy is haunted? then why were they going after the mother all the time? – did that chick just put on a gas mask to talk to the ghosts, or what, the what are you calling them? Entities? Just spirits then?- is this turning into a comedy horror? No? – why is this the dad’s quest all of the sudden, haven’t we been following the mom?  – who’s story is this?? – that demon is listening to Tiny Tim now, what the f#@!? – is he not a demon? – what the hell is the Further, you lazy screenwriter?

It becomes exhausting. And once it starts, it’s a slippery slope. There was a world created in which the mom is experiencing a real haunting. This has become a world where she is in need, she needs to grow, so why the shift in focus?  There weren’t many problems with the direction, there was a good mix of some comedy in the thrills.  The editing was tight and told the story, especially through the first two acts (it starts to get hairy in the third act).  The problem is solely in the script causing a big story issue and in the end distracting heavily from some of the film’s actual merit.

And we sat through the credits to see the names of people we knew, then walked next door to the Cheesecake Factory, 45 minute wait. We walked down to the Whispers lounge at The Grove, we check the menu and prices.  We walked across the street to a barbecue restaurant without giving any consideration to the vegan in our group, get a table, get a 25oz beer, a patron margarita and a steak sandwich.  During the meal we are of course regaled by stories of the post process on the film, stories about the director and we congratulate our friend because it’s fantastic that he has a movie in the theaters, he did fantastic job (as did the entire editing staff with what they were given) and if you can get past the story issues, the bizarre third act and if you can stop thinking about where you know that psychic from (it’s Lin Shaye and she was the leathery woman in There’s Something About Mary) they you might just enjoy this film for the quick scares that it provides.

Between 1940 and 1942 Preston Sturges made three highly regarded comedies for Paramount: The Lady Eve, Sullivan’s Travels and The Palm Beach Story.  All three were made in succession right at the zenith of Sturges’ career.  In fact the man never liked taking time off, and by the end of 1940 he had released both The Great McGinty and Christmas in July with The Lady Eve in the can.  He seemed to write and direct with the fervor of a coke-addict. Immediately after wrapping on Sullivan’s Travels he was fully immersed in the script for The Palm Beach Story. He did all this while continuing to write on scripts for colleagues at Paramount and helping to cultivate the careers of up-and-coming comic directors like the great Billy Wilder.  I suppose it was wise for him to attack so vigorously the hot iron because there was a shift in the management at Paramount and he was soon to depart.  But while he still had his bloated salary and contracted players he directed three comedies that some still rank among America’s best films. With the same fury and fervor at which he attacked the scripts my daughter, Boston, and I attacked the Sturges box-set, watching three films in a row.

THE LADY EVE

The Lady Eve is a film that plays heavily on the “fall of man.”  From Genesis forward men have been suckered in by women, and Charles Pike (Henry Fonda) is the biggest sucker since Adam. On a cruise ship back to America after spending over a year in the Amazon studying snakes (again, a Genesis reference), Charles is the rich man for whom all the ladies are clamoring. The poor oaf never picks up on any of their advances, so the conniving Jean Harrington (Barbara Stanwyck) plans an elaborate con on the man in order to win his affection and hopefully his money.  Harrington trips Charles in the dining room, and because of his good nature, ends up apologizing to her. Before he knows what hit him he finds himself in her cabin.  The well-choreographed seduction, an example of Sturges’ ability for brilliant mise en scene, sets the tone for their entire relationship.

It was around this time Boston had to take a nap, 9-month olds apparently aren’t great with movie marathons. I tried to keep her up to see this comical card game where Jean and father (Charles Coburn) use their own card tricks to undermine each other while the oblivious Charles just plays along.  But she fell asleep just as we start to see true emotion starting to build between Jean and Charles and she missed the major plot points.  Charles’ loyal attendant Muggsy (played by Sturges mainstay William Demarest) grows increasingly suspicious of Jean and uncovers her dark past of hustling wealthy men.  This effectively ends their whirlwind romance and sets the stage for the second half of the film in which Jean plans to exact revenge.

Jean arrives months later at the Pike estate for a party under the alias Lady Eve Sidwich, but fails to disguise herself any more than speaking with a phony accent and putting her hair up.  Muggsy continues to insist “it’s the same dame,” but Charles thinks she would disguise herself more if she were trying to seduce him again. The only people that could be possibly fooled by this would be Charles and the people working with Clark Kent at the The Daily Planet. AH! It was about a thirty minute nap for Boston and she’s a awake around this point and completely lost.  What does she expect when sleeping through most of the second act?  I refuse to rewind it for her because parenting is all about teaching lessons: #1, don’t fall asleep during movies.

I saw on Boston’s face that she wasn’t buying this con of Jean’s, even with Charles’ firm belief that Eve just can’t be Jean.  We listen to Jean’s partner in crime, Sir Alfred (Eric Blore), lay a thick and wild history of coachmen and torrid affairs on Charles that would explain the coincidence in appearance.  This seems to satisfy Charles and us as the audience, so we let it slide because (lesson #2) it’s important to suspend our disbelief in a screwball comedy such as this, so one explanation should do. And then Sturges goes too far.  He wrote a quick speech for Jean, telling us that Charles couldn’t recognize her because on the boat they were in love and when you’re in love with a person you see them differently. I thought it a weak bit of writing actually, a sign of a writer not trusting that his audience is already along for the ride. Boston scoffed at the line and continued to eat her veggie poofs that taste like healthy Cheetos so I ate a few myself (lesson #3, guard your food).

This is one of my favorite roles for Henry Fonda, the other is a dark role as the villian in Leone’s Once Upon A Time In The West. Fonda plays Charles Pike with an endearing innocence and naiveté mixed with a clumsy charm that plays heavily into Sturges’ theme of the “fall of man.”  According to Sturges in his autobiography (oh yeah, I should mention that I’m reading his autobiography, it’s pictured on my nightstand to the right, the second book down.  The book above it is You Shall Know Our Velocity! by Dave Eggers which I highly recommend) people advised against using so many pratfalls in this film, but Sturges loves his pratfalls and they work  for him.  I’m not a huge fan of slapstick comedy, a guy just tripping over himself doesn’t really get a big laugh out of me, but with Fonda’s approach to Pike’s character it worked with a strong cumulative effect.  From the onset we get the sense he’s an uncoordinated naive man that is quick to fall in love and quick to fall over a couch.  And it becomes important that we understand Pike’s character in this way otherwise we’d never believe the ensuing con on the mainland. Stanwyck and Fonda are great as a screwball couple, Sturges should’ve continued to utilize Fonda in all of his films, but this was the only film that paired the two.  Sturges would move on to work with Joel McCrea.

SULLIVAN’S TRAVELS

Drama seemed to dominate the landscape in film school, and drama tends to win out when festivals and academies dole out awards.  I’m not sure if people simply feel there is more merit in a dramatic film, or if it’s a more difficult task or if they think somehow drama is able to more aptly portray the plight of man but they are all wrong.  A good comedy does more to express the human condition than any drama and it is far more difficult to create a successful comedy.  Now as Sturges explains it, during a time in the early forties when all of his friends were dedicating their pages to the dramatic he got caught up in a conversation about why he would continue to scribe and direct the comedic picture.  Instead of engaging in a heavy debate he decided to make a movie as his answer, and Sullivan’s Travels was the result.

Sullivan’s Travels is Sturges’ biggest “message” film, a commentary on the Hollywood landscape of the 1940’s (referencing his friends Capra and Lubitsch) and addressing the needs of the downtrodden man.  We open with a brilliantly funny scene with a big-shot movie director, John Sullivan (Joel McCrea), insisting on directing “O Brother Where Art Thou,” a fictional dramatic novel. He wants to make a movie about the real working man, about the suffering of the everyday American, a movie with messages and political commentary and then I imagined a modern day film executive driving his Bentley while talking into his bluetooth about how he wants to make a drama about the suffering of the common man. The studio heads must have the same sort of imagine in their heads and they insist Sullivan doesn’t know the first thing about human suffering.  This strikes a cord in Sullivan, so he insists that he will set out on his own without any money or assistance to learn about the suffering of the common man.  The first message in the film comes from one of Sullivan’s servants who says, “The poor know all about poverty, and only the morbidly rich would find the topic glamorous.”  Take note Academy members that vote for movies like Precious.

It was lunch time for Boston and I, but we didn’t want to miss anything from a movie that starts so strong, so we made the lunch in front of the TV, I with a sandwich and she with a bottle and some pears (I wish I loved anything as much as this kid loves pears). On Sullivan’s journey he encounters a struggling actress, played by the stunning Veronica Lake.  Lake is very soft-spoken with a dead-pan delivery of very witty dialogue.  Sturges has a way of writing strong female characters, although The Girl is a small step backward from Jean Harrington.  Now that there’s a girl in the picture, “because there’s always a girl in the picture,” Sullivan has a partner on his adventure.  They try to find hardship, but it proves difficult to get away from the Hollywood execs that are looking out for their director.

We finished our lunch just as The Girl and Sullivan were scrounging the streets for a meal and then run back to Hollywood. Sullivan’s lame attempt at getting in touch with the common man was supposed to end with his generous giving of a thousand dollars to those he feels helped him.  But this act of condescension backfires as a greedy street urchin attacks him for the money.  In the midst of it all he does find some kindness wherever he goes, from other homeless and from a magnanimous prison guard when Sullivan finds himself on a chain gang.  Now I fear spoiling some of the finer points of this smart comedic adventure into the troubles of the working class transient citizens of the world, so I want to skip to something Sturges wrote in his autobiography about this film.

“The ending wasn’t right, but I didn’t know how to solve the problem, which was not only to show what Sullivan learned, but also to tie up the love story…There was probably a way of doing it, but I didn’t happen to come across it.  It might be profitable for a young director to look at Sullivan’s Travels and try not to make the same mistakes I did.”

At the end of Sullivan’s Travels it wraps up with the message being stated plain and simply, we make comedies because sometimes laughter is all a person has. (lesson #4 for the day, never underestimate the value of laughter). It’s strange that he makes a point to comment on the ending of Sullivan’s Travels opposed to his other films.  Sullivan’s Travels may have been the only one that could get away with such a brief conclusion, whereas The Lady Eve and The Palm Beach Story suffer from the unsatisfying brevity of their final act.

THE PALM BEACH STORY

But regardless of what feels to me a tacked on and unsatisfying end to The Palm Beach Story, it’s so far my favorite Sturges film.  The biggest draw to this screwball comedy is Claudette Colbert’s magnitude (magnetic attitude, thanks Community).  I would’ve absolutely loved to see Colbert in The Lady Eve, I enjoy her so much more than Stanwyck.  And on that note, as much as I like McCrea, Fonda would’ve been pure dynamite opposite Colbert in this film.  I digress! Why talk about what could’ve been when the movie is solid without any changes at all.  So let’s get into it!

Boston has this little chuckle that she does, it’s like a courteous laugh to a joke that wasn’t very funny but you don’t want to make the situation awkward by not laughing.  She chuckled like this through the beginning of The Palm Beach Story, but it’s because I think the whole situation was a bit over her head.  She doesn’t understand the wonderful timing and delivery of Claudette Colbert.  Colbert plays Gerry, a devoted wife that insists on divorcing her husband Tom (Joel McCrea) because of their financial and professional troubles. Earlier in the day “The Wienie King,” a delightful old man who is hard of hearing, gives Gerry enough money to run off to Palm Beach, FL where she hopes to meet a wealthy man she can marry in order to help her soon to be ex, Tom.  But Tom is not willing to give up the woman he loves so easily and tracks her down to Palm Beach, only to find that through a series of comedic events she has gained the favor of one of the richest men in the world, JD Hackensacker III (Rudy Vallee). He must now pretend to be Gerry’s brother as she tries to extort money out of her new suitor.

Again, Boston’s not buying into the plot much.  I remind her of lesson #2 from earlier in the day, suspend your disbelief in a screwball comedy (or any movie for that matter).  She seems to forgive any plot holes in this more than in The Lady Eve.  So we allow ourselves to get swept into the story, laughing at the rambunctious group of wealthy men that smuggle Gerry onto the train, then we got uncomfortable at the overt racism, but again laugh as the plot becomes complicated with Gerry and Tom both getting in over their heads with deceit.  Deceit is a very common theme with Sturges.  From The Great McGinty on he uses aliases and disguises to have characters deceive on and other.  Harrington becomes Eve, Sullivan becomes a vagrant, and here Tom becomes Gerry’s brother who is now being pursued relentlessly by Princess Centimilla (Mary Astor), who still being pursued by an old suitor, Toto.  Toto is the bumbling shadow to Centimillia, but the princess is determined to get Tom as her next husband.

It’s more than a love triangle the ensues, it’s more of a love square.  And Boston can’t keep her eyes open any more and I paused the movie to put her down for another nap.  But kudos to her for making it through all of Sullivan’s Travels.  When I unpause the movie Gerry enters Tom’s room with a zipper that she cannot unzip on her own.  This recalls an earlier incident where simply helping with a zipper turned into a passionate night of sex.  It was wonderfully planted and now paying off as their love for each other cannot be denied.  What was not planted was the idea of having twins.  *SPOILER* When Tom and Gerry tell Hackensacker and Centimillia they are clearly distraught but seem content in knowing that both Tom and Gerry have twins.  So we end quickly with a Hackensacker and Centimillia marrying the siblings of the people they want to marry.  They all live happily ever after, or do they? It was actually an odd, contrived and rushed ending.  It could be argued that the twins were set up in a sort of prologue in the film, but not well enough for the audience to earn this ending.  So, lesson #5 – earn your third act.

Aside from the apparent racism in all of his films (do all black people really talk like that?) the biggest, possibly the my only issue, with Sturges is he doesn’t earn the ending and likes to just burn through the third act.  Like I said earlier, I like the concluding moment in Sullivan’s Travels, but the final sequence of The Lady Eve brings us suddenly back on a cruise ship, Pike trips over Harrington and then they run off to his cabin confessing their love for each other.  It’s just too quick. Despite this flaw of his, Sturges still remains a master of comedic choreography, mise en scene and witty dialogue.  If he made no other films than these three he would still have been cemented as one of the greatest Hollywood directors of the 1940s.

All in all it’s not a bad way to spend a day.  Three good films, funny and optimistic, and some great parenting.  I taught her five very valuable lessons; and she probably took away even more gems that I just shelled out for free not even aware of it.

The Spanish actress-turned-director Icíar Bollaín has, I’m ashamed to admit, been off my radar.  I haven’t seen her other films, but I am going to now.  Her  latest film, Even The Rain, seems simple when you break down the plot into a succinct synopsis like “A film-maker wants to make a movie but the local political/social turmoil makes it difficult.” However, this film is anything but simple and possesses all the subtlety of a punch in the face. What we end up with from Paul Laverty’s (Sweet Sixteen, The Wind That Shakes The Barley) intelligent, emotional script and under Bollaín’s nearly flawless direction is a multifaceted film rich with complex characters and themes that broach social criticism.

Even The Rain essentially works with three plots that directly impact one and other.  The first two exist in the actual film we are watching starring Gael Garcia Bernal as the ambitious Sebastián, a director with a vision to make a movie about the real events surrounding Columbus colonizing the “New World.”  His efforts, and the efforts of his stalwart producer Costa (Luis Tosar) are continually tested by the second story-line within our main plot; the fictionalized account of Daniel and his involvement in the real Cochabamba Water Wars in which the people rose up against the government as it sought to privatize the water supply back in 2000.  The plot is of the film Sebastián is directing which gives us a visual of the atrocities committed by the Spanish as they forced the indigenous people into slavery and ravaged their land in search of gold.

Costa brought the production to Cochabamba for one reason – cheap labor. The impoverished Bolivians came out in droves to an open casting call overwhelming Costa and  Sebastián. They immediately start turning people away, which is where we first meet Daniel (Juan Carlos Aduviri) and get a taste of his explosive personality. He’s an instigator, demanding that everyone that came to audition be seen, and this display of indignation secures him the role of Chief Hatuey. And then he demands a role for his daughter.  Costa is uneasy with this casting choice, insisting that his volatile disposition will ruin the production and he’ll be too hard to handle, but Sebastián wants that passion for Hatuey.

As a struggling film-maker myself I was fascinated with main plot, but I like movies about making movies (and if you’re the same watch Truffaut’s Day for Night. Brilliance). Bernal and Tosar have a captivating dynamic.  I’ve watched directors like Sebastián, fearless yet insecure in need of a producer as a cheerleader, and I’ve seen producers like Costa who struggle to steer a seemingly frazzled director on the right path in order to finish the movie. But you don’t need to have knowledge of film production nor do you need to be all caught up on your early 16th century history of Hispaniola to enjoy this film.

The film Sebastián is making is based in large part on the writings of Bartolome de las Casas, a priest who witnessed first-hand the genocide committed by Spanish settlers and the execution of Hatuey, a Taíno chief that led rebellions against the Spanish. We cut seamlessly into the film within the film which causes an effective confusion in the audience.  When the Taíno revolt against the Spaniards it takes the audience a minute to understand it is part of Sebastián’s film.  Without a change in camera movement or visual style I at first thought the extras, which were being paid a slave-wage of $2 a day, had revolted against the film crew.  This directorial choice creates a connection with the past treatment of these people and the current treatment by the film crew. Similar choices were made when staging the violent protests against the Bolivian government.  Daniel puts the film in jeopardy as he helps lead the uprising in Cochabamba and we witness the events cut seamlessly with actual footage of the protests in 2000.  Again this creates a parallel between the exploitation by the Spanish colonials and exploitation of a people in an impoverished area by the millionaires in the government and multinational corporations.

As the protests escalate and the three story lines continue to develop they become entrenched in each other. You can see on Daniel’s face during the filming of the scenes with Columbus and the Spanish that he is connecting the long history of oppression to his own life.  He is the Hatuey of Cochabamba and there are moments when you know he was inspired by the script Sebastián is shooting.  As Sebastián and Costa become more concerned that the protests will shut down production they become desperate, almost heartless, as they try to force mothers to perform in scenes they morally object to, as Costa tries to bribe Daniel to abandon the protesters until shooting has wrapped and as they spring Daniel from jail to film the final climatic scene of the movie.

The performances by Luis Tosar and Juan Carlos Aduviri are incendiary. Tosar handles the character change in Costa with a veteran’s control. He’s the de las Casas of Even The Rain, who comes to Bolivia as part of the problem with dreams of cheap labor and a product that will bring personal wealth, then slowly discovers that there are more important things than money and the film. Aduviri is an animal, a man who attacks acting with a raw intensity that becomes the stand-out performance in the film. Even in his moments of silence there is strength in his Daniel, there is a viciousness to his Hatuey.

Bartolome de las Casas wrote that when Hatuey was finally captured he and other Taíno were burned on crosses. One priest asked Hatuey if he would repent so he could go to Heaven, to which Hatuey asks “Are there Christians in Heaven?” The priest responded “yes,” to which Hatuey retorted, “then I’d rather go to Hell. I don’t want to be around such cruel people.”  At this moment in the film the writing, directing and cinematography are at their best, almost Herzogian in scope as men are burnt over a sweeping landscape. (That’s right, Herzogian, I’m using his name as an adjective, so what, it’s the most accurate description, watch Fitzcarraldo).  Immediately after shooting the scene the local government arrives to arrest Daniel, effectively ending the shooting of the film and the crew needs to decide if the lives of the men they’ve been exploiting for cheap labor are more important than their film.

The film is not without its flaws, but they are so minute it would only diminish this cinematic achievement to discuss them.  When I’m not seeing comedies (I’m finding I’m more from the Sullivan’s Travels cloth) this is the sort of drama I go to movies for.  Nearly epic, beautifully shot, intelligent and relevant.  It addresses the exploitation of inhabitants in third-world countries by multinational corporations that would claim they’re nowhere near as ruthless the Spaniards; whether you kill a people slowly by hoarding their key resources or do it swiftly with genocide you’re still killing the people.  The key creatives were so tuned into the subject matter that they didn’t shy away from their own hypocrisy.  The Western ideals that were set forth by the Spanish (conquest and personal wealth) permeate all aspects of Western culture, not excluding film-making.  In this manner the film made me consider Herzog again and the horrific stories I heard of the mistreatment of locals on the set of both Aguiree: The Wrath of God and Fitzcarraldo. Of course Herzog stories could be simple folklore, but it’s not limited to just him.  Rumors of exploiting local street kids and impoverished non-actors have surrounded production like Salaam Bombay, Slumdog Millionaire and City of God, and in Even The Rain Bollaín and Laverty allow their critical eye to be turned on themselves as film-makers.

Even The Rain is much more than a critique of an endless cycle of exploitation in the West that began with Columbus landing in Hispaniola.  This is a film of hope and optimism. I don’t want to discuss in too much detail what transpires, it will spoil the beauty of the film’s journey, but I can promise it won’t disappoint. (or if you think it does disappoint let me know and I’ll tell you what you missed).

I didn’t have a lot to do this Valentine’s Day.  The wife and I slept in as long as our 8 month old would allow (which was actually a pretty good sleep in) and then I got to reading a script sent to me.  I was prepping for an informal interview to 1st AD a short film coming up this March/April.  So around 2pm I headed over to the USC campus and met with the director at their new film school building.  We discussed the script in detail, basic logistical concerns and what have you, and proceeded to intellectualize the story which could easily become a very good character driven short film.  The whole while I was annoyed that the USC film school has a Coffee Bean in their lobby and food trucks lining their street where the best we had a Chapman was the Dairy Treat down at the corner – which was really only an option left for the bold, daring risk-takers out there.  Sure you could walk down to the circle and get some Cuban fare at Felix’s or any other great places to eat (which I loved), but this freakin’ Coffee Bean is in their lobby! Perfect for the film students who want to have quick meetings at a coffee shop, and then if they’re like me, order a lemonade or tea. I can’t stand coffee.

Adjourning at 5 I had to hurry home so we can begin our Valentine’s tradition of getting fast food, bringing it home and presenting it like a fancy homemade meal. Makes us feel like we’ve put some effort into our romantic day. With LA traffic I got home around 6 – just an hour long 6.5 mile trip –  I probably should’ve just ran there.   With an astronomical number of food trucks hitting the streets of LA recently we decided to venture out and sample some of their cuisine. We packed Boston up in the car and headed out to find a Brazilian food truck.

And what to my wondering eyes should appear?  A whole community of food trucks turning out delectable meals! That’s right!  Monday nights on Washington Blvd across from the Sony lot is this…Okay so the picture isn’t great, what do you expect when using a Blackberry camera? But what you can sort of make out in the darkness and blown out lights is a circled caravan of food trucks with folding tables and over-turned buckets for the guests to sit on.  It was like a bohemian, transient dining room. But we didn’t linger, we got our food to go so we can go home, put the kid to bed and then enjoy our meal and movie.  The meal presentation looked something like this…

What you see in the picture would be two Blue Moon Spring Ales, two Mexican Cokes, a chicken pastel, beef pastel, banana pastel (I never heard of a pastel until tonight but they’re delicious) and a Brazilian hamburger. That comes with fried onions, lettuce, bacon, corn, a beef patty and a fried egg.  Un-freakin’-believable. As for the movie we chose the high-school comedy Easy A starring Emma Stone.  It’s not available to stream on Netflix, which was pretty irritating as is the fact the HBO doesn’t allow their shows streamed on Netflix but that’s a gripe for another time.  So we had to order the movie on-demand, which seems a bit of racket. $5? Seriously?

Easy A is the story of Olive, an un-noticed straight and narrow girl who told a simple lie in order to save face in front of her friend and that lie spread like a wildfire through her school quickly earning her the reputation as the school slut.  Instead of a fighting the rumor, Olive embraces the new reputation, using it to help the seemingly “uncool” boys of her class look like sexual conquerors.  Each guy she fake hooks-up with gives her a gift card or present for the right to claim a sexual exploit with her.  This adventure obviously is doomed from the beginning as it continues to get out of hand and puts real relationships and emotions at risk.

The script actually works pretty well and has a few true laugh out loud moments.  I know the director, Will Gluck, continued to rework the script even the night before a scene was to shot as he was tweaking dialogue to fit with the actors and it worked. Which means, although a well structured and well told story, the strength of this entire piece lies solely on the voice of the actors; mainly Emma Stone. Let’s first look at the supporting cast that rounds out this little comedy.  Stanley Tucci and Patricia Clarkson are, for lack of a better word to describe what I mean, delightful in their roles as the parents.  Sure, you could argue that these parents are a little “too cool,” as their laissez-faire attitude seems more like it was written by teenagers as what they wish their parents were really like, but that’s what works.  All teens want their parents to loosen the leash and allow them to make mistakes so they can learn and grow.  That’s what made some of the parents from those classic 80’s films so great.  Molly Ringwald’s dad in Sixteen Candles, I can’t remember that actor’s name and I won’t look it up that’s cheating, was an ideal father for a 16 year old girl.  Understanding, funny, compassionate.  It’s how the parents of the protagonist are suppose to be in teenage comedy (except for John Mahoney in Say Anything… who was stealing all the money from your grandparents, the prick).

I though Thomas Haden Church played a great teacher, again the cool teacher that we all wish we had in high school.  He’s able to make great moments awkward and funny. Like approaching Olive, who is now dressing like a whore to embrace her new reputation, he says, “What the hell are you doing?” Olive: “What?”  He proceeds to stare at her, they both know something is amiss, and after a long pregnant pause he replies, “Don’t forget, tomorrow’s Earth Day.”  Simple!  But had me and the wife rolling.

The real strength with this film is two fold.  First, major credit needs to be dealt to Emma Stone who made the “misunderstood teenage girl” seem fresh for the first time since Natalie Portman in Beautiful Girls. There is an undeniable charm laced with a caustic wit that makes her enjoyable (although almost always the same) in every role.  Sure, this could have been Wichita in high school before the zombies took over, but plucking her into this genre worked. She has great comic timing, she’s cute (not some plastic looking “bombshell” that will get all coked up and steal from jewelry stores), and best she can actually deliver a sincere performance.

The other strength is that this film is tongue-in-cheek.  It always knows what it is and in a small way deconstructs the teenage sex comedy by calling attention to itself in relation to the teenage comedies from the 80’s.  There are even elements of the teenage comedies from recent years, like Mean Girls and Saved! As Olive calls attention to the similarities from her life in John Hughes and Cameron Crowe films it makes us more aware we’re watching a movie that is fully cognizant of it’s own conventions.  We end up enjoying those conventions out of nostalgia, I suppose, because we all (in my generation) enjoyed those films and it was fun to see them recalled here as Olive gets to ride into the sunset with her prince on a riding lawnmower.

On a very quick note it should be said that while this film recalls the old greats, it never reached that full scope of those films because Easy A never tapped into the pathos of John Hughes. Hughes spoke to us like a fellow teen that was suffering the same high school dilemmas we were.  Which makes me sort of wonder, as I watched Hughes leading into my teenage years; did I love John Hughes because I suffered teenage angst, or did I suffer teenage angst because I loved John Hughes?

THE GREAT MCGINTY and CHRISTMAS IN JULY

Again, the wife has started her night shifts, Bean goes to bed early, so at the age of 30 on Saturday nights in a whirling metropolis I shut myself up in my apartment and satisfy a promise I made to Our Man In Hollywood, Jim Brown.  During my trip to his house for Thanksgiving Mr. Brown was slightly disappointed in my knowledge of classic American cinema and could care less about my knowledge of German Expressionism, Eisenstien, the French New Wave, Italian Neo-Realism, etc. etc. etc. and I realized (again) that my education has in another way failed me.  There isn’t much emphasis on the classics in American cinema even though they directly inspired the filmmakers of other movements that are studied ad nausea. So, even though Brown told me to start with the musicals by Vincent Minelli and Busby Berkeley, I started with the celebrated comic writer/director Preston Sturges.  Starting where it only makes sense, at the beginning, I watched The Great McGinty – it was the first film directed by Sturges, from his original screenplay, and launched a relationship with Paramount that saw Sturges rise as one of the most prolific writer/directors of the 1940s.

The story is told almost entirely in flashback by Daniel McGinty (played by 40s noir star Brian Donlevy) as he lives in exile as a bar tender in a banana republic.  His story begins on the night of a mayoral election.  As a hungry vagrant looking for a quick buck, McGinty hustles from voting booth to voting booth earning him $2 for each vote he casts for the incumbent mayor.  It exposes quickly a layer of corruption that reaches from the mayor, through The Boss and into the police force and breadlines.  After casting 37 votes  around town he’s entitled to $74, which The Politician (played by Sturges mainstay William Demarest) cannot pay.  This gets McGinty into The Boss’ office and starts a profitable but contentious relationship that lasts through the duration of the film.  As a pugnacious opportunist McGinty rises in the ranks of corrupt politics, eventually marrying his secretary for pretense and appearing to be an upstanding mayor.  But as my favorite segment in Paris, Je T’aime says, “By acting like a man in love, he became a man in love.”  His loyalty to his wife and kids forces this corrupt politician into an honest moment that cost him everything and he must flee the country, which was wonderfully ironic that in the end it wasn’t all of his illegal dealings that got him in trouble but his honesty.  It’s the story that could’ve happened if George W. and Karl Rove stopped with the governorship.

Sturges handles the relationship between McGinty and The Boss with a wonderful mix of verbal irony and comedic banter with a streak of slapstick. It’s a dynamic that works wonderfully in a political satire; the two power hungry morally bankrupt men that rely on each other to further their own careers.  The actors Brian Donlevy and Akim Tamiroff played on each other so well that Sturges brings them back to reprise the roles years later (or so I read, I haven’t gotten that far in his film anthology yet).

Even more interesting is the way Sturges presents corruption reaching even to the innocent secretary.  Played aptly by Muriel Angelus, the secretary even justifies the corruption she’s a part of with a funny slant on the idea of ‘steal from the poor and give back to the poor, so where’s the stealing?’  She almost leaps at the chance to marry McGinty to satisfy political aspiration, but more so to save herself from being a single mother of two.  Selfishness and deceit abound! That is, until McGinty and Catherine decide they love each other want the marriage to be legit – then by embracing family values suddenly they take a moral turn.  A message almost worthy of a Capra film.

Preston Sturges had been writing for years, under contract with Universal and then on short term or per project contracts at all the major studios, and becoming one of the highest paid screenwriters in town. It took a while for Sturges to take a chance on him as a director though, it’s that old Catch-22 that still exists. They don’t want to hire you to direct a feature until you’ve directed a feature. While Sturges’ writing far outshines his direction in The Great McGinty, we get that first taste of a director who is on the rise, he just needs to find some ways to improve the visual storytelling.  The best attribute to his directing the camera is his judicious use of the closeup.  I think I mentioned before when lambasting Susane Bier, but when the closeup is overused it loses its power.  So when watching a Sturges film you can feel something happen to the characters when we cut into that closeup. He’s does create great little moments in the film, using small camera pans and tilts for reveals; I love the moment when we do a slow tilt down Catherine’s legs when McGinty  considers marrying her.  Her response, “Well what does that got to do with anything?”

Sturges’ follow up film, Christmas In July, is charming in its brevity – complete and effective at only 67 minutes.  The plot is established immediately with a few quick shots of people from all walks of life huddled around radios.  They’re all anticipating the announcement of the winner of the Maxford Coffee slogan contest with a top prize of $25,000.  Among the masses is Jimmy and Betty.  Jimmy has strong ambition but seems to lack the brains to get there.  With his slogan idea, however, he is just certain life get better.  You see, he’s come up with a slogan he is certain can’t lose; “If you can’t sleep at night, it’s not the coffee… it’s the bunk.” The trouble is nobody else is very confident in that slogan, least of all Betty who insists that coffee does keep you up at night.

Jimmy’s co-workers decide to have a little fun with him, sending him a phony telegram announcing him the winner of the contest and asking him to report immediately to Maxford’s offices to receive his check.  This creates such a buzz that Jimmy’s boss even thinks his talents could be put to better use helping with their own ad campaigns.  Jimmy is quick to accept the promotion and heads straight down to claim his prize.  While the committee to select the winner is still deadlocked, the head of the coffee company, Dr. Maxford, assumes the telegram is legit and pays him out.  Jimmy embarks on a spending spree, amassing gifts for almost everyone he knows and ring for Betty.  By the time Dr. Maxford discovers the selection committee is still deadlocked Jimmy has created chaos on his street in celebration and spent the money all over town.

It’s a funny situation that is created by these office pranksters.  Watching executives and business owners try to take the gifts back was a great scene.  But like all films, Christmas In July requires a healthy suspension of disbelief (as in Sturges’ subsequent films).  We have to believe that Dr. Maxford wouldn’t check with the selection committee before shelling out $25,000.  We have to believe Jimmy would go on a lavish spending spree, spreading his wealth and fueling a hype around himself that engulfs his boss and everyone around him.  As soon as we buy into Sturges’ situations we can let go and enjoy them for what they are, and here it is an examination of the hysteria that can result from one small moment of recognition.  Jimmy had gone unappreciated his entire life.  As soon as Maxford Coffee says that he’s an ad genius, everyone believes it.  This becomes a satirical look at power of suggestion.  Nobody believed in the slogan before he won, but if someone loves it, we must all love it.  It’s how I view a lot of modern art.

Sturges didn’t make any great strides as a director going from McGinty to Christmas.  It appears to me he took a step back, honestly.  Where Christmas In July is a more of a situational comedy, McGinty was full of irony, pratfalls and colorful characters in the middle of a situation at is more painful as an accurate depiction of American politics than it is funny.  Dick Powell is great as Jimmy, so convinced that his slogan was a gem that he can’t believe this could be a hoax.  Without any solid counterpart, however, it only made me miss the chemistry between Tamiroff and Donlevy.  I would recommend McGinty over Chistmas but that hardly matters when looking at the career that was launched by having two big successes and an Oscar in one year as a writer/director.  Paramount had found their preeminent comedic director in a decade when audiences were begging for comedy.

A narrative film pulled from the transcripts of interviews and court documents about the obscenity trail surrounding the publication of Allen Ginsberg’s 4-part poem “Howl” was something I was dying to see, anticipation building since I read of the production and the premiere at Sundance, and in a small red envelope it arrives and my hopes are high.  The wife is at work tonight, her first night shift in three years, Bean goes down early with exhausted eyes after a day of crawling through the DVDs that surround my TV like carpet crumbs and I start the Howl.

Like the poem itself the film starts like a white hot spark, blaring jazz music accompanying the rhythmic lyrics about madness destroying the minds of a generation as they drag themselves naked through negro streets, Franco now synonymous with versatility pounds on the keys of an old typewriter, recites the “obscene” words in a smoke-filled joint packed with post-war hipsters, a new lost generation seen through the thick rimmed Ginsberg glasses and Conflagration! each steel arm of the typewriter scorches the paper with eternal ink and animation depicts the flames that ignited in the inspired beat generation that consumed the conservative opposition – the flames pour out of an animated jazzman saxophone while burning spirits singe the night sky over New York.  The film was not disappointing, not a first.

A trial.  A trial with no real stakes established is intercut with Ginsberg reciting the poem, giving an interview about the poem to an unseen reporter, snapshots of his life as he fell in and out of love with straight men that pioneered the beat generation they spent the rest of their lives trying to distance themselves from and the pace of the film slows.  Moments of spontaneous outburst keep this dying document of drifting Dada-men and coldwater flat poets alive but the hybrid approach to a nonfiction/fiction film starts to fizzle quickly as we are left with soldering embers that glow intensely only when Franco recites the poem with the delivery of a comic, a revolutionary, a lost post-war soul and a melancholic, broken-hearted romantic searching for love among the madness.

This film would have been brilliant if it were Franco, Ginsberg’s words and the animation mixed with the smokey hipster joint.  It could’ve been a short.  While the trial was interesting at times, it was a speed bump, worse than a speed bump, it was ignoring the severe tire damage signs and crippling the momentum of an electric poem and performance.  But perhaps the filmmakers were attempting a little jazz with some literary merit. What was it the literary expert said on the stand? “Great literature always creates its own form…” I suppose there is some merit to that, these documentarians mixing forms to create something new, something of value and hopefully inspire mimicry – but it’s not a new form.  Recreation, reenactment, it’s all been done.

And then!  I hear a term that excites me… “Fear-trap.” Ginsberg, through Franco, says that while he was working a suit and tie and desk and secretary job in San Francisco he was stuck in the fear-trap.  It’s the fear that so many people propagate, the fear that if you don’t have your stable job, your suit and tie, your two cars, four bedroom house, 2 kids and slowly growing IRA then you are failing somehow at life – your ambitions are meaningless if they are not to bank your retirement and secure the financial future for your entire family through the monotony of daily routine.  I’m not saying you can’t find happiness there, Sisyphus can why can’t you, but it is not for everyone so people shouldn’t say it is.  It is in avoiding this culture of fear, this Fear-Trap, that pushes people out to the fringe where they delight in the struggle of late night crew calls in the dank streets of Crenshaw or abandoned lofts of the warehouse district as they work for meal/copy/credit and the hope that the bond formed with fellow fringe-dwellers on these indie sets will lead to inspired work on creative projects and hopefully find a way that insatiable creativity can earn them a living.

I should conclude by saying, see the film only if you’re a big fan of Ginsberg and are familiar with ‘Howl’, which you can read here – HOWL.

There’s not a traditional villain or antagonist in The King’s Speech.  This makes it very difficult for a director to provide a visual to for the audience to identify the “villain,” in this case a speech impediment leading to a fear of public speaking.  During the opening credits Hooper gives us the visual we need as he singles out microphones as the antagonist.  Through wide lenses we see the microphone from every angle and we see one seasoned speaker ready to take command of this device while juxtaposed is Bertie (Colin Firth), a man who shrinks in its presence. Or, it at least appears that he has shrunk thanks to Hooper’s flawless direction and Cohen’s beautiful photography.  Before the large, imposing microphone Bertie stammers through the opening of a speech before we cut away and there we have it; the first bout between underdog and reigning champ and the champ has flexed his muscle, defeating the timid would-be stammering king.

Immediately after the heartbreaking speech we join Bertie in a speech therapy session with a joke of a doctor who encourages Bertie to smoke to relax his throat and hold marbles in his mouth while speaking, an archaic method that hasn’t proved successful since ancient Greece.  The transition in tone from scene to scene, from dramatic to comedic, is handled with an imperceptible fluidity.  It’s incredibly difficult to juggle these tonal shifts in a film, to be both as funny and tragic as life really is, but Hooper accomplishes this with the skill of a master craftsman.

It’s established in two scenes that The King’s Speech is something rare; it’s one of those films you wait all year for, it’s the sort of film that can achieve the artistic, the intellectual and the entertaining and the emotional. It’s something I think Truffaut would have loved; something entertaining while historical, socially relevant and ultimately optimistic. Although I’ve read some articles that question the veracity of the script, they’re misguided and clearly missed the point of the film.  The historical accuracy of this adapted story has little affect on the success of it being told in cinema.

In order to overcome his debilitating stammer Bertie ends up relying on the help of the unorthodox speech therapist Lionel Logue (Geoffrey Rush), who becomes an unlikely friend and confidant. Their friendship drives the story as Bertie begins to show progress, and like any true friendship, they have tumultuous times that end up bonding them.  A friendship forged by fire.  Firth and Rush are sublime, playing off each other like two actors who love their craft, able to blend humor and pathos so seamlessly that you forget when you stopped just watching a movie and started to really care.

But I don’t want to just go on about the merits of this film (Helena Bonham Carter, the script, etc.) and it would be pointless to discuss it’s very few flaws (second least favorite appearance of Guy Pearce who I usually adore, and a few awkward camera moves).  I’d rather write about why my eyes were tearing up during the King’s final speech, that’s right, I can admit it.  Yes, there is this wonderful moment between these two friends, locked together in a cozy room seeing all their hard work bear fruit and yes, the score is the perfect emotional accompaniment but there is something much more.  I believe I was tearing up because of envy.

Envy what? Envy that England had their reluctant hero.  They had a man who didn’t lust after the spotlight or fight to get his voice in a sound bite on a 24 hour news channel, but one who had the position thrust upon him by birth, by the untimely death of his father and the shocking abdication of the throne by his brother (for Mrs. Simpson? Seriously? You’re a freakin’ prince! You can do better).  Bertie seems to be a man that understood the burden of leadership enough to know it scared him, and that’s what you need in a leader; a leader should know his responsibility is so enormous that it terrifies him.  That’s why we’ve heard so much about this film, it was released at a time when it can resonate in more than just the US.  I don’t believe I’m alone in hoping for that reluctant hero to be forced to become a great leader.  I want to see someone who is more concerned about what the people need to hear and not what they want hear.  I want to see a leader more concerned with working hard in his office and in the service of the public and not concerned with getting an emotionally abusive mother of eight to go on a camping trip for a reality show.  I want a leader who wants to be a leader and not a celebrity.

Was King George VI this leader? Maybe. Maybe not. Historically speaking it doesn’t matter, because the King presented to us in this film was.  The King’s Speech was entertaining, it was emotionally stirring and was so socially and politically significant that I was getting jealous to the point of tears over a King that Britain had over 60 years ago. Or he’s just the King in David Seidler’s impeccable script.  Either way, it all equals one fantastic film.

Here is a list of the best films of 2010 according to our Friend on the Fringe and contributing writer, Eric Rowe.  Enjoy.

Note:  Some of these films may have technically came out in 2009, but if their theatrical release was in 2010 in the States, then they count towards 2010.

1) Sebbe

This film came out of nowhere and knocked me on my ass.  It centers on a teenage boy, Sebastian, whom lives alone with his mother.  It is established early on that Sebastian is a loner.  He doesn’t seem to have many friends and he spends most of his time alone.  Sebastian’s mother has a dead end job, and as the film progresses it is established just how much she resents Sebastian, for holding her back in life.  This film works so well really just because of how well it’s directed.  The film never panders to the audience by over explaining aspects of Sebastian’s life.  It’s a true character study of Sebastian, and as a viewer you can learn everything you need to know just by watching him.   The mother character could have easily been this cliché character (i.e. Monique in Precious) but instead she is treated as a true human being; with lots of pitfalls but also is given some very genuine moments, which remind you that she is human and not some mythical evil monster. Aesthetically, this film reminded me quite a bit of Paranoid Park.   It’s beautifully shot and really does a great job of getting you into Sebastian’s mindset and feelings.  This is definitely a film that fits in the ‘Teen Angst – High School” genre, though its really the best film of the genre that I have seen.  It is just such an intimate portrait of a teenager; the most emotionally affecting film of the year for me.

2) Dogtooth

Giorgos Lanthimos’ Dogtooth is a constant reminder for me of what Art Cinema should and can be. This film is complex, bizarre, and disturbing to watch. The film centers around a husband and wife whom keep their three children completely isolated from the outside world. The father is the only member who ever leaves the “safety of their home”. Their children are incredibly naive, and spend there days watching homemade movies or learning new vocabulary words like “Zombie,” which in this family’s world means ‘a small yellow flower.’ As the film progresses these children begin to slowly and subtly resist some of the parents techniques. We notice that this overprotection and sheltering is inadvertently causing the three children to perform quite sadistic games, which, because of their lack “street smarts,” appears to them to be totally harmless. The direction is very surgical; each frame was clearly thought out and really does a good job of relaying the alienation; the smothering of the father is particularly causing. The film is very similar to Haneke’s The Seventh Continent in this way, and really a lot of ways, which is a high compliment. As borderline disturbing as this film is, it’s actually quite comical in the absurdist way to boot. One scene in particular, when the father tells his kids about the dangerous “cat” creature that lurks outside the confines of their home. He teaches the children about the dangers and even teaches them how to bark like a dog.  The film theme seems to be about over-protection and one’s nature to lash out about such stringent authority/guidelines. Though the message is true literally between parents and children, I imagine the director’s statement might be more about his countries governmental practices. This is not a film that the average viewer will understand. Many will find it slow, boring, and just weird. It’s a shame, because this is a very well done piece, and if you believe cinema is more than just entertainment then you should see this film.

3) Blue Valentine

Blue Valentine tells the story of a married couple, played brilliantly by Ryan Gosling and Michelle Williams. The cross cutting structure between different time periods of their relationship exposes intricacies and details about them.  The film’s overarching story takes place in the presumable present as their relationship has deteriorated to some degree. The film is very subtle in its approach in showing an honest depiction of a relationship. Now, when you have two of the best actors of their generation as the couple, it sure makes the film even better. I really liked how the film was structured, and the subtlety in its approach. The film never strays from what is important; The Relationship. It also doesn’t really pick a side either. When it is all said and done, do I know exactly what the film is about? Is it about the social standards that society places on us? Is it about accepting fate, or working hard at a relationship? Hell, maybe its about how monogamy is bullshit. It doesn’t matter, cause this film just presents it to the viewer and lets them form their own conclusions.

4) Life During Wartime

The pseudo-sequel of sorts to Happiness should not be even thought of in that regard. I think this is why Solondz chose to make all the characters completely different. For example, Phillip Seymour Hoffman’s character in the original is now played by a Michael K. Williams, known most for his betrayal of Omar on THE WIRE. Life During Wartime is exactly what you would hope to expect if you are a fan of Todd Solondz. It is a heart wrenching, hysterical, uncomfortable film that follows a family of individuals as they navigate through the World as we know it. Todd Solondz is so good at finding the beauty in things that are thought of as vulgar and/or disgusting by the common man, and this film is no exception. The film really studies the beauty of despair and gives us insight into the human psyche when dealing with daunting emotional issues in a way only Solondz can. This might be his most beautiful film to date, at least in terms of photography. It’s fantastically written and features a great cast of character actors who all do great jobs. I think the biggest surprise for me was just how much this film resonated on an emotional level, though Solondz has always had such a unique way of doing so.

5) The Portuguese Nun

If you watch movies solely for entertainment stay the fuck away! The Portuguese Nun tells the story of a French actress whom goes to Lisbon for a film shoot. One night she sees a nun kneeling in a chapel in the city, and she begins to grow more and more intrigued. It is a slow paced film that is beautifully poetic, though it is definitely not for everyone. It’s a very intellectual piece for starters and for anyone not familiar with Eugène Green’s work, his directorial style is very unique and does take some getting used too. Green is obsessed with his lead actress, Leonor Balaque, and I can honestly understand why. Her eyes are piercing. Green breaks the forth wall countless times, having many of the actors looking right into the camera. Green knows that his film is not conventional or what many would deem “entertaining”. In the beginning when the young actress is checking into her hotel, she has a conversation with the man behind the counter about how French films are too intellectual and/or boring. Sure I could say it drags a bit in parts but its very pretty and features some beautiful compositions. The dialogue has a weird brand of humor at times, but it really makes you more than just an observer with its intellectual segments. The film also does a great service to Lisbon with his slow pans and static shots, really showcasing the beauty of the city. One scene towards the end of the film when the Actress finally confronts the nun is just about perfect. The dialogue is sharp, beautiful and intellectually stimulating. Robert Bresson would honestly be very proud of this film. As stated throughout my review, some will find this tedious or boring, but as our young protagonist says while defending her film within the film: “I find it compelling” and personally I would have to agree.

6) Somewhere

The first time I watched Somewhere, I wasn’t sure about it.  The biggest problem I had with Sophia Coppola’s newest film was that I never felt as emotionally invested in Johnny’s character as I should have been. I wish the script had given us a few more climatic moments earlier in the film to help elaborate Johnny’s emotional anguish from more than just a visual standpoint, but from a character standpoint.  After days, I was still thinking about the film and realized that it had totally engrossed me, as I was still thinking about it days later.  Somewhere tells the story of Johnny (Stephen Dorff), a movie star whom seems to be on top of the world.  His life is planned out for him, from this press junkets, to his meetings; all he ever has to do is just show up.  Johnny’s life is empty.  Sure, he has lots of fake connections with beautiful women, and he can pretty much afford anything he wants, but he lacks real connection.  That is outside of his daughter, Claire.  Claire stays with Johnny occasionally when her mother can’t take care of her, and they have a good relationship although it is assumed that they don’t see each other as often as they should.  The film chronicles Johnny’s life over the course of a few days, as we see this lifestyle unfold.   The visual design is very well done, using mostly static shots to convey how Johnny feels.  It’s a very interesting dissection into celebrity and how even though to the average person they seem to have everything, this entitlement can’t be more of a prison. The problem being that by the time the climax of the film begins, and Johnny is having an emotional moment, it just feels a little too late.  That being said, its still an engaging interesting film.  Perhaps the opening shot of best sums it up.  It’s a long static shot of a Ferrari going around a racetrack, over and over again; a rather brilliant choice, as to symbolize our protagonist’s life going nowhere.

7) Enter the Void

This is the definition of a Cinematic experience. Gasper Noe’s latest film attacks the audience both with visuals and audio to create a truly unique cinematic experience. This film is incredibly visceral, but that isn’t to say that it lacks a narrative. Actually, anyone who says this film is lacking in story clearly doesn’t understand what Noe is trying to accomplish. This film takes us on a psychedelic journey, but to say this is the best drug film ever made (which it is) would be a true discredit to the film. It’s a beautifully poetic film as well.  I think this films emotional resonance does not get the credit it deserves.  I personally was very interested in this brother sister relationship, and the car accident scene was one of the most heart wrenching moments I have witnessed on film in awhile.  Some may critique the film for being self indulgent, but I beg to differ. The only knock on the film I can think of is that it does run a little long, but I was still consumed with this film from start to finish. I tip my hat to Noe for trying to do something different and for understanding that a true artist constantly tries to challenge the medium.

8 ) Of Gods and Men

Of Gods and Men tells the story of a group of Cistercian monks living in a monastery in an unstable region where Islamic fundamentalists wage war with the government. These men spend their days praising god and helping the villagers around them. As political unrest and terrorist activity increases the monks begin to question whether its safe to stay and what is the right thing to do. The local government asks them to leave, but under the leadership of the head monk, Christian, the men decide that they can do much more if they stay. Whether you are Christian or athiest, Of Gods and Men is an engaging, poetic tale of what men are willing to do for what they believe in. It’s a very tasteful retelling of a true story, with a beautifully poetic ending.

9) Heartless

An incredibly well done horror film, which really transcends the genre and shows that horror can be very intelligent and thought provoking. Heartless tells the story of Jamie Morgan, a man who was born with a large birthmark across his face. Jamie has disdain for his existence because of this birthmark and he spends most of his time alone. One night Jaime discovers that there are demons on the streets of East London, causing chaos and violent crimes. Without going too much into the plot, this film has philosophical musing on death, beauty, evil & good, and it’s a film that is challenging and no doubt will require additional viewings just to grasp everything Philip Ridley wanted to say. From a technical standpoint, the cinematography and art direction completely set the atmosphere for this creepy world of East London. The cast is great, especially Joseph Mawle, whom is frightening; his presence alone demands your attention. This film is tense, creepy, intelligent, and beautiful.

10) Valhalla Rising

Anyone who expects an action packed sword and sandal epic is bound to be disappointed but this film is pretty much everything I love about cinema. The film’s cinematography is just fucking perfect; from the beautiful wide shots showing off the landscapes to the lingering close-ups, Nicolas Winding Refn continues to prove that he is a visual master. Refn doesn’t spend any time catering to the audience; this film doesn’t give you any answers but what Refn has done through the imagery and sound design is create a cinematic journey to the end of the world. The movie is filled with symbolism and references to Norse mythology, and while honestly I probably missed a few of them, it really doesn’t matter. This is the type of film that lingers in your mind, and just wont let go. Cinematic Bliss.

11) Black Swan

Darren Aronofsky’s latest film, Black Swan, tells the story of Nina (Natalie Portman), a ballerina whom dreams of being the lead in her dance company’s next show. Her mother is an overbearing woman, whom essentially lives out her dreams of being a successful dancer through her daughter. Nina gets offered the lead in Swan Lake and without giving anything away we are led down a dark story of obsession and awakening. Aronofsky’s does a great job of getting strong performances out of his lead actors, particular Natalie Portman whom has never been better. As we have seen before, Aronofsky has an uncanny talent at creating the psyche of a character visually and this film is no exception. He masterfully goes in and out Nina’s perception of things, creating an intense hypnotic experience. I wonder if Aronofsky had recently watches Polanski’s Repulsion as these films do have a lot in common.

12) Amer

Amer is a visual tour-de-force of style about a woman’s sexual repression and carnal desires. The film chronicles this during three times in Ana’s life. This film consists of nearly no dialogue at all relying solely on the visuals to keep you interested, and it works extremely well. The visual design of this film is almost as hectic as Enter the Void in nature though it’s color schemes right out of Italian Giallo, It you are expecting this film to have a lot of violence you will disappointed as it is much more a story about a woman’s sexual identity. Although, towards the end of the film you do get one fucking gruesome scene that is executed fantastically. The film is an editor’s dream because of how many interesting compositions, and angles they filmed. Really cool stuff.

13) Winter’s Bone

Winter’s Bone tells the story of Ree Dooy (Jennifer Lawrence), a 17 year-old girl who is forced to take care of her younger brother and sister. Her mother is mentally incapacitated and her father is a meth-head leaving her little other options. One day, The Sheriff informs Ree that her father put their house up for his bail bond and disappeared. This sets Ree off looking for her father, which inherently leads her down a rather dark and mysterious path of town secrets and meth-heads. If Ree fails to find her father, her entire family will be thrown out of there house and into the woods “like dogs” as Ree herself puts it.  Winter’s Bone is a strong thriller/mystery film. It takes a lot of time to develop the atmosphere and setting. We are shown Ree’s surroundings, her home, and follow her on her daily routines before the sheriff informs her about her dad. The audience is really given enough time to engross oneself into her world of the poverty stricken South. It feels genuine, real and even foreboding. As the film progresses we follow Ree, as she sifts through various lies and mysteries slowly unraveling the truth about her father. The pacing is perfect, in that the audience basically experiences exactly what Ree does, and is forced to pay attention to small details.  Jennifer Lawrence is impressive as the tough skinned Ree. This film is pretty close to a one-woman show, and her performance is strong willed yet naive. The supporting cast is also good, particularly John Hawkes who plays Teardrop, the brother of Ree’s missing father. Winter’s Bone story and script is overall very subtle. There are a few moments where the dialogue is a little too information heavy (aka NOT SUBTLE), but overall, it’s well written and feels genuine to the setting. It touches on the social order of things in small southern towns and how important reputation can be. It never dives too deeply into the meth world either, only giving us glimpses, never taking us away from the central story arch or the character struggle Ree is going through.

14) The Social Network

A really strong concept for a film and well directed by David Fincher. Fincher’s aesthetic is very apparent but just in more subtle ways than usual. I was happy that the script didn’t bother me as much as I thought it would, being that I am not a big Sorkin fan, but it was actually just about the perfect in-between. The two leads, Eisenberg & Garfield, do a great job as well; Garfield in particular who I am glad to see is finally breaking out state side. The atmosphere is beautifully created mainly by Reznor’s score, which is just fantastic in every way. My main complaint with this film is that it was just never as emotionally investing as it could have been. Except for Garfield’s one scene, and maybe the final scene of the film, there really was no scene that truly affected me on an emotional level. I understand that Eisenberg’s character was supposed to be blinded by his ambition, but I felt like they didn’t do enough early on to set the seed for this inner loneliness which is obviously given to us at the end, like There Will Be Blood did so well. Don’t get me wrong, this is still grade A filmmaking, but I do think it could have been better.

15) The Square

A pretty bad ass Noir-inspired thriller about a man whose life becomes a complete mess when he and his mistress hatch up a plan to run away together, but everything goes terribly wrong. This film is brooding and features a great lead performance by Ray Yale. It slowly unwinds giving us more and more to think about as we move towards the inevitable conclusion. The direction and cinematography help tell the story quite well, and are well done. Just a strong noir about a man tries to stop his life from completely falling apart.

16) King’s Speech

I really liked Tom Hooper’s last film, The Damned United, so I was looking forward to this and it didn’t disappoint. The King’s Speech is about a prince who is thrown into being King after his father’s death and his brother’s abdication of the throne. The one problem being that he has a debilitating speech impediment. Colin Firth is great in this film, I was completely convinced by his performance. Geoffrey Rush is also terrific as the doctor who tackles trying to cure the impediment. Don’t be surprised if one or both of these guys are nominated for some awards. I think the visual design of this film is really superb as well. It uses a lot of very tight frames to create this claustrophobic feel, really enhancing the emotions we feel for our protagonist. Really a beautifully shot and realized film; great performances and engaging story.

17) Tiny Furniture

Tiny Furniture tells the story of Aura (Lena Dunham) whom returns home from college jobless, with no choice but to move back into a Tribeca loft with her artist mother and sister. This film works well because of how genuine and honest it really feels. It probably has to do with the fact that this is clearly semi-autobiographical, and the mother and sister are in fact, the director/actor’s real sister and mother. It’s an honest film about a young woman’s struggle to figure out really who she is and what she wants. The cinematography uses an abundance of static shots, really creating this static, sterile life that aura inhabits. The static framing really dictates the image, which really helps the film. The writing style is whimsical at times yet it never screams “INDIE FILM!, I am cute and interesting” like so many other American independent films seem to this day. The writing kind of reminds me of a Whit Stillman film. Dunham was really smart in how the film ends as well; really summing up our protagonist’s experience and really the point of the film.

18) Four Lions

This is a truly great comedy. The context of the film could be incredibly controversial, being about a group of inept terrorists who plan out a bombing. The film’s dialogue is just razor sharp and is really a great farce. The Brits really are two for two recently with In the Loop, and this both being extremely well crafted, hilarious comedies. If I did have one complaint about the film it would be the single camera docu-style, it can be a bit much and somewhat distracting at times. This really is a mild qualm though, as this film is just too much fun and yet does surprisingly have some emotional resonance especially during the end of the film.

19) Terribly Happy

A much over-looked film about a Copenhagen cop who, after moving to a small town, sees his world fall apart around him. It’s a very bleak, dark themed film that has elements of film noir. In that way it reminds me of the Coen’s to some degree. Its very well constructed, with the story unfolding very naturally. I realize this supposedly came out a few years ago, but I saw it in theaters this year so it counts…

20) PolyTechnique

A haunting dramatization of the shooting that took place at a Montreal school in 1989. Similar to Gus Van Sant’s film, Polytechnic spends time early on in the film creating a sense of foreboding dread. The films stark black and white cinematography only helps the mounting tension and once the moment comes its quite arresting. The film spends a lot of time with not only the victims but also with the killer. Its structure is layered as it shows a few various viewpoints, but in a different way then Elephant. There are some parts that were a tad too emotionally manipulative (unless they are true), particularly the scenes taking place after the shooting. The sound design is great too, with an interesting assortment of sounds.

21) The Fighter

The Fighter tells the story of Mickey Ward, an Irish Boxer from Boston. With the help of his brother Dickie, a local legend  for going “toe to toe with Sugar Ray”, he trains to go pro and make a name for himself.  Let me start off by saying that they might as well just give Christian Bale his Oscar now to save time.  While the film is about Mickey, Bale steals every scene he is in as Dickey, the crack-addicted ex-boxer who still has disillusions of some day making his comeback.  The film is more about Mickey’s relationships with his family; from his mother whom is comparing him to his brother and always looking for his next fight, to his six sisters whom think they know what’s best for him.  It’s more about these relationships and Mickey’s feelings of inadequacy then it is about boxing.  While the boxing scenes are all well directed, there isn’t much too them and the real strength of Russell’s direction actually comes outside the ring.  I cannot help but wonder how this film would have been with Aronofsky behind the lens.

22) 127 Hours

Danny Boyle’s newest film tells the story of Aron Ralston, the climber who got stuck in a canyon leaving him with no other option but to amputate his arm for the sake of survival. In the beginning I was a little concerned because Boyle was going too overboard in the style department, ala Tony Scott as of late, but once Ralston gets stuck, the film really begins to shine. Boyle uses lots of experimental techniques to capture Ralston’s decent to near madness. His visual style is all over the place and besides being overbearing at the beginning it works great. Boyle clearly understood the lesson of this story and I bet the real life Aron Ralston couldn’t be happier. The actual amputation scene is pretty much perfect. It’s beautifully executed with great visual and sound design. After the criminally overrated Slumdog Millionaire, I am very glad to say that Boyle has returned to form.

23) Lebanon

A pretty strong war film about four Israeli soldiers who operate a tank. On a mission that they are told will be “routine,” their spirit is tested when all hell breaks loose. The film is very well shot, and it really does tear at the soul in some of the shot selections. I could argue that it’s a little emotionally manipulative but not enough to really take that much away from the film. Lebanon attempts to examine how terrifying and impacting war can be to the human soul. For the most part it succeeds.

I wasn’t going to be writing anything about True Grit.  I figured it goes without saying that the Coen Brothers know how to make a good film, and this is no exception.  But then I read a review from a film critic I have long thought to be a joke in the journalistic community; Rex Reed.  Do you know this man, this man who somehow earned mountains of cash writing “bitch” columns about society and film? To read Rex is to be misguided by Rex.  This is a film reviewer that calls Christopher Nolan “a hack” that has yet to make a comprehensible film.  He essentially credits the Coen Brothers as making only two good films; Fargo and No Country for Old Men.  Rex Reed is, at best, an archaic relic from a time when people found it fashionable to sip on brandy or martinis at soirees while listening to the resident bitchy gay social critic’s inane thoughts on people’s affairs, art and film. I thought that trend died with Capote and Warhol (although those two men actually had value).

While Rex occasionally gets something right, like John Wayne’s Oscar being undeserved or calling The Social Network a “film transcends its trendy, obvious limitations with enough vitality and vitriol to make it as informative and breathless as it is entertaining, most of the time Rex is so off-base that we wonder where and when he gained his credibility. Perhaps in grand ol’ yesteryear this man could shed some insight on the movie scene but today he can’t enjoy or even comprehend any film more intelligent or complex than Seabiscuit. Let us consider the Coen Brothers’ revisit to the classic western novel, True Grit.

Let’s start off by mentioning how brilliant this film looks.  Roger Deakins surpasses any cinematographer working back Rex’s heyday, including Storaro, Hall and Unsworth. Deakins has a command of composition and light that should be the envy of every aspiring cinematographer and the fact this man hasn’t won the Oscar simply proves again the award is essentially meaningless. But Rex doesn’t pay any respect to technical merit in almost anything I’ve read from his pen, so we must move past the technical and focus on the story-telling.

We open on a shot that draws you in; it’s a warm soft-focused image that begins as an almost pin-point on the screen so you lean forward slightly to make it out.  As the image grows and pulls focus, with the somber narration of an older Mattie Ross accompanying, we see a lifeless body outside an old saloon getting covered in lightly falling snow; his horses trots off the far right of the screen and it is clear this is going to be a darker version of the novel than the 1969 film. When Mattie Ross first enters (played by the bright young actress Hailee Steinfeld that graduated from Chapman student films to the major leagues in a matter of months) she is confronted with death all around her.  She identifies her father’s body then witnesses the public hanging of three criminals.  It is clear, the punishment for sin is death and Mattie demands the murderer Tom Chaney be punished.  Mattie manages to summon up her strength to bully around old western men with grit and determination.  Does she really have a lawyer like she constantly claims? Maybe not, but she’s convincing enough that she gets her way.

Rex Reed calls Stienfeld’s performance “passable,” which is an understatement.  Steinfeld brought the same refined confidence and articulate verbal mastery as Kim Darby did decades ago. But of course self-doubt and nerves surface during the journey and we witness the character’s final steps into adulthood. Darby and Steinfeld are so evenly matched in this role it would be difficult to really set one over the other. Bravo to Steinfeld. I look forward to watching her continue on what is certainly going to be a career that far outshines Rex’s sorry attempt at an acting career.

Which brings us next to Rex’s lambasting of Jeff Bridges. So you won’t have to go searching for his exact words, let me give the quote. Rex writes,

“…he gives the worst performance of 2010, grunting and growling with a throat full of gravel that renders any rational assessment of the screenplay pointless…Incoherent mumbling has become his trademark, substituting bloated self-indulgence for what used to be acting. Mr. Bridges does everything to out-wobble, out-drawl, out-screech and outdo John Wayne, hoping his meandering tirade will make everyone forget the original and forgo comparisons.”

I will say that I think drawing a comparison between Wayne’s performances and Bridges’ is senseless.  Bridges actually manages to act, where as Wayne simply plays John Wayne with an eye-patch.  There is comedy in this story, Rooster Cogburn has a sardonic sense of humor that got completely lost in Wayne’s stilted and flat turn as the marshal. Comedy is difficult, too difficult for the Duke to pull off.  But with comedy in the Bridges blood and a good handle on the craft of acting, Jeff manages to give new layers to Cogburn that haven’t been seen before.  There is not only an appealing sense of humor, but a clear emotional progression and arc that culminates with a tense ride to save Mattie’s life.  The words Rex couldn’t make out between grunts and groans is likely due to his own rapidly aging ears and not Bridges’ performance.

I know that above I’ve given a lot of praise to this adaptation of the novel, and the praise is well deserved.  But obviously this film is not flawless. Matt Damon was miscast. A fine actor in the right roles, here he was caught between the tough guy that he has branded himself as and the arrogant, somewhat “dandy” of a Texas ranger he is supposed to be playing here. In and out of his accent his scenes were airy without any emotion behind his dialogue and in the end he is eclipsed by the performances of Stienfeld, Bridges and Brolin (as brief as his appearance was). The ending felt tacked on, even though it is very true to the ending in the novel. I hated the horrible attempt at an uplifting ending in the original, but still this “downer” ending felt hurried and unsatisfying.  And finally, there is a scene where Cogburn and LeBoeuf shoot cornbread like skeet in a pissing contest which felt like a cheap attempt at levity.  The scene should’ve been cut, adding nothing to the plot and being a low point for each performance.

This was a great western. A wonderfully crafted story of wild west justice and vengeance, the story of an old curmudgeon learning to care for another and a young girl coming of age.  Although it’s not one of my top five Coen Brother films, it still brings me to my final point against Rex.  Master story-tellers deserve their recognition.  Rex said it himself in his interview with Cavett that he believes people should receive adequate recognition for their accomplishments. The Coen Brothers have proven themselves across all genres and time-periods, taking us on an odyssey in the depression era south to the Jewish communities in the suburbs of Minnesota, the seedy underworld of Texas and into the surreal worlds of parenting in Arizona and writing “boxing pictures” in 1940’s Hollywood.  There are only two movies they’ve made that I would say you shouldn’t bother seeing, which leaves them with a solid winning record.

So, the Coen Brothers will go on to make more cinematic history while Rex will simply start to fade into obscurity longing for the days when his opinions may have been relevant. And to The New York Observer, as long as there is Andrew Sarris who can contribute (despite taking him off your permanent staff) what need is there for Rex Reed?