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Baby Driver (2017)
Brilliant, but ho-hum.
Okay, so I watched Series One of Spaced last week. I watched Hot Fuzz last night. I pretty much have Shaun of the Dead memorized, word for word, camera angle to camera angle. I got myself fully into the Edgar Wright Zone. Tonight, I saw this film on the big screen, my first Edgar Wright big screen experience since seeing World's End for the second time. And it was fun. Lots of chases, lots of gunplay., lots and lots of Kevin Spacey, Jamie Foxx, and Jon Hamm chewing up the scenery (although, it must be said, not enough of Flea with his prosthetic nose). The soundtrack was brilliant, and warranted by the plot. So why do I feel let down?
The problem, I think, is that on some level I expected Edgar Wright to do something more with the form. All of the actors do very well performing their roles, but all of them are playing basic stock characters: the Innocent Kid who has been coerced into a life of crime, his crippled Foster-father trying to keep him on the straight-and-narrow, his naive, wholesome Love Interest, the sinister Mastermind, the psychopathic street wise Gangsta, the sociopathic Whiteboy thrill seeker with his sultry Moll, etc, etc. All well and good, but all something we've seen before.
With Baby Driver, Edgar Wright proves that he can make a heist/car chase/shoot 'em up movie as well or better than any other director. No one doubted that he could. I just wanted him to do something subversive with the form.
Cike Nie Yin Niang (2015)
Opaque and gorgeous
Gorgeously shot, using a 1.37 X 1 aspect ratio, which somehow makes every frame seem even more like a painting. Hou moves the action along at his own pace, which means that frequently the film comes to a complete stand-still; in fact, for long stretches, the is no action, as we are given windows into the personalities of the various characters, as they interact with their children, or stare into space. Truthfully, this film makes Wong Kar Wai's "Ashes of Time" seem as straightforward and simple-minded as any of the movies in the Lethal Weapon franchise. I still find myself, a couple hours later, trying to figure out which parts of the plot are determined by other developments, and which are coincidence. I feel like I may have to watch this film half a dozen more times to resolve these issues, and that will be no hardship
The Trip to Italy (2014)
Personae at Play in Italy
Steve Coogan and Rob Brydon reprise their roles as (respectively) "Steve Coogan" and "Rob Brydon" for the third time, following "Tristram Shandy: a Cock and Bull Story", and "The Trip": they play slightly caricatured versions of themselves, seeking constantly to one-up each other with their mastery of verbal dexterity and mimicry. "Coogan", the more successful actor, tries to keep "Brydon" in his place, and "Brydon" shows no willingness to stay there. Underneath all the banter, the two are given to insecurities and intimations of mortality. The scenery, the food, and the women are gorgeous, and the duo partake of it all: the arrival of "Coogan"'s PA, and his "son", bring the film (and, one supposes, the series) to a surprisingly relaxed and companionable close. Altogether, it's been a splendid journey.
Magic in the Moonlight (2014)
What we got on our hands is a dead shark
"A relationship, I think, is like a shark. You know? It has to constantly move forward or it dies. And I think what we got on our hands is a dead shark." - Alvy Singer
A gorgeous, sumptuous movie: wonderful cinematography, great, Jazz Age music (as well as Beethoven), the Cote d'Azur, Eileen Atkins, Colin Firth in full Mr. Darcy mode, Emma Stone
what could possibly be amiss? Well, it seems in the midst of all the prettiness and lovely fixtures, Woody forgot to include some energy. The result is a film which, while sporadically quite enjoyable, and even funny, feels curiously airless. Falls into the category of Woody's oeuvre which includes "A Midsummer Night's Sex Comedy", "Radio Days", "Melinda and Melinda", and "Scoop": movies which are not at all bad, but are almost instantly forgettable.
Ida (2013)
Quiet, and stunning
This is one of those cinema experiences which inevitably lead me into complete incoherence. There is no way I can effectively quantify or qualify the feelings engendered by the film, so I'll just jot down some more or less random impressions:
This is, literally and figuratively, a very quiet movie. The themes are huge, but the presentation is never strident. The arguments are very calmly placed in front of us, there is no special pleading; and the score reflects this. There was a very slight, low frequency hum pervading one of the later reels in the print I saw at the Clay Theater, which was driving me slightly barmy: I can't remember the last movie I've seen in which I would have noticed it.
What we have here is one of those works of art which makes me want to revisit other works of art. The opening sequence, of novitiates carrying a sculpture of Jesus into a snow-filled courtyard, reminded me Anton Corbijn's photography for Joy Division's Closer album, and his cinematography of their "Atmosphere" video. At various points I made silent vows to listen to Coltrane's Giant Steps, reread Hesse's Narciss und Goldmund, and listen to Mozart's "Jupiter" Symphony, which, oddly enough, I woke up to this morning.
In Something Like an Autobiography, Akira Kurosawa expresses concern for the plight of Takashi Shimura, a wonderful actor, who Kurosawa felt was overshadowed by Toshiro Mifune in Drunken Angel. Something analogous occurred to me here: Agata Kulesza turns in a yeoman-like performance as the slightly jaded Wanda: but Agata Trzebuchowska absolutely seizes the camera, and never lets it go. She is just compulsively watchable.
And lastly, if I ever commit suicide, I will definitely be using the "Jupiter" Symphony as a soundtrack.
Enough Said (2013)
A solid film
Finding myself with nothing to do on Halloween night, after a lovely afternoon at Baker Beach, I checked out this film on its final screening at the Balboa: it made for a good escape from the madding crowds.
I thoroughly enjoy Nicole Holofcener's movies, especially the relationship she has developed with Catherine Keener, who plays the hapless protagonist in her earlier films. Here she has given Julia Louis-Dreyfus that role, with excellent results. She has written a sympathetic character, who feels insecure in her own judgments, always seeking input on even the most trivial matters from women (and girls) whose judgment she values more highly than her own; we as the audience get to watch the results as they happen, which is kind of like watching a very slow velocity train wreck, and is pleasantly excruciating. The performances all around are excellent, with James Gandolfini taking the laurels, but solid support from Toni Collette and Catherine Keener, and the three young actors who play the three teenage girls.
Yi dai zong shi (2013)
I loved it. Can't wait to see it.
I, of course, saw the truncated version of this film, with half an hour lopped off for the benefit of us guilo who can't be expected to sit through a two hour movie with subtitles. What I saw was, in a very quiet, Wong Kar-wai understated way, entirely spectacular.
In this film, Wong has uncharacteristically spun a fairly straightforward, conventional narrative: we see Ip Man stating his case to unify the divided martial arts worlds of the North and South, we see Gong Er defeating him to avenge her family's honor, we see the disruption of the martial arts' world brought about by the Japanese occupation, we see the protagonists' exile in Hong Kong, and we see the differing paths taken by Ip and Gong. Reading the reviews here, I fail to grasp why people can't seem to figure out the structure; heaven forfend that these people are exposed to Ashes of Time or 2046: their brains might hemorrhage!
Within this simple (for Wong Kar-wai) structure, the details are all simply ravishing. Tony Leung Chiu Wai plays Ip Man as the ultimate stoic; he's jowly, and his face rarely changes no matter the circumstances in which he finds himself. Every so often he will allow himself that devilish twinkle in the eye, the slight suggestion of a smile. Zhang Ziyi does an excellent job with her role as Gong Er, humanizing a rather arrogant, humorless character who has made huge sacrifices in the name of honor. Yuen Wo Ping's fight choreography is typically stellar, maybe some of his best. And Phillipe Le Sourd's cinematography is absolutely gorgeous, colder perhaps than Christopher Doyle's classic camera work on Wong's films, but that is a function of the colder climate, both meteorological and emotional, of this movie.
Now, when am I going to get a chance to see this film? I feel like there's half an hour missing from my life.
The World's End (2013)
I knew I was going to be disappointed; fortunately, I was.
Entering the Vogue Theater, I told the ticket seller "There is no way this can't be a disappointment, is there?". I mean, the culmination of the Cornetto Trilogy? There was just no way it was going to meet my fervid expectations. Well, surprise, surprise: the film was actually better than anything I could have expected.
Sitting down to watch this movie is as close to watching a movie, sitting on a couch in your underwear, as you can get in a movie theater. As a devotee of Wright and Pegg (and Frost), you just can't get any more comfortable, with all the familiar motifs from "Spaced", "Shaun of the Dead", and "Hot Fuzz". We're talking fruit machines, vaulting over fences, "Keep off the Grass" signs, all the usual tropes. And then the familiar actors show up: Michael Smiley ("Oi-oi-oi! You lucky people!"), Mark Heap ("Anger...pain...fear...aggression..."), Julia Deakin ("Hello, Brian!"). And Mary, the Zombie checkout girl from "Shaun of the Dead"! And of course, Martin Freeman. And David Bradley. Newcomers Eddie Marsan and Rosamund Pike fit in nicely, as well. The great Bill Nighy was impeccably cast as the voice of "The Network". Yes, I know I'm gushing.
All I can say is, there are plenty more film genres: hopefully the guys are getting ready to perpetrate another trilogy.
Blue Jasmine (2013)
The kindness of strangers?
I seem to have a tendency to take Woody Allen somewhat for granted, purely as a film director. Walking home from the theater, I thought "this is his best movie since...", and it turns out you really don't have to go back too far: "Vicky Cristina Barcelona" to "Match Point" to "Sweet and Lowdown" to "Husbands and Wives" to "Crimes and Misdemeanors" to "Hannah and Her Sisters", and pretty soon you get to "Manhattan": that is a very formidable roster of great movies, and there have been some darn good movies interspersed between those high points. It's just that, as Grandma Woody tells Ed Chigliak in that episode of "Northern Exposure", Woody seems to have a compulsion to keep making movies ("the same movie, over and over and over again...it's not healthy!"), so inevitably the occasional clunker ("Celebrity", "Midsummer Night's Sex Comedy", "Everyone Says I Love You", "Scoop") is bound to happen. This film, I am happy to report, ranks in the upper echelon of Woody's best. We San Franciscans, as I have frequent cause to mention, are a provincial lot; it has been decades since I have seen a theater as full for one of Woody's movies as the Clay Theatre was tonight. We love to see ourselves on screen, and to be fair, it is rare for a movie set here to be worth the price of a ticket. This film fits well into San Francisco: South Van Ness, West Portal, Ocean Beach, The Ramp, Marina Green, South Park, even (God help us!) Rivera and 48th Avenue all form plausible backdrops to the action. The acting is all first rate. The male characters are all inherently flawed, if not downright despicable; Alec Baldwin gives a fine, understated performance as a Bernie Madoff type sleazebag, and Bobby Cannavale and Andrew Dice Clay do nice turns as the lummoxes that Sally Hawkins' character is drawn to. But really, the movie belongs to the two female leads: two of the actors I am always ready to pay money to see, Sally Hawkins and Cate Blanchett. Cate Blanchett steps right into the role Judy Davis has been playing in Woody's films, and she absolutely runs with. Her final scene, on a bench in South Park, with wet hair and no makeup, just sort of sticks to one's ribs. And I will confess that when Jasmine asks "Who do I have to sleep with to get a vodka Martini with lemon twist?", my hand shot up in the air before I could consider that the question may well have been rhetorical, and that Cate Blanchett couldn't actually see me.
Before Midnight (2013)
Probably not a date movie
We catch up with Celine and Jesse as they are summering in the Mani at the villa of Patrick, a distinguished British ex-pat author, who has invited Jesse, now a modestly successful author tentatively working on his fourth book. With some reluctance, Celine agrees to the vacation, leaving her non-profit job in Paris, and bringing along Celine and Jesse's twin girls. Also reluctantly agreeing to the vacation is Hank, Jesse's son from a disastrous early marriage; when dropped off at the airport to return to his mother in Chicago, Hank confesses that he has had the best summer of his life. The setting is idyllic: great scenery, great food, and interesting people. Jesse and Celine are treated to a night away from the twins, in a rather anti-septic hotel; allowed space away from work, parenting, and social obligations, they explore their relationship, and open all the wounds that have scabbed over in the course of the past decade. Both sides of the film, the sunny side and the dark night side, make for riveting viewing. It might help to have seen the previous two films in the series (although, to be honest, I always confuse them with the "2 Days in..." films), but you can probably extrapolate them from what you see on the screen.
Frances Ha (2012)
Modern Love, Walks on by...
This is a very small movie, in the best possible sense. Outside of changes of zip codes, nothing much appears to happen; this is an ode to friendship, however fraught and delicate friendships can be. Essentially, this story follows Frances (like Catherine Moreland, in Jane Austen's "Northanger Abbey", she falls into the category of those who would never have been supposed to be born an heroine) as she floats through her life, leaving little indelible impression on her surroundings. She is vulnerable, and yet has a resiliency which seemingly will carry her through all of her gaffes and miscues. She reminds me very strongly of Poppy, Sally Hawkins' character in Mike Leigh's "Happy-Go-Lucky", although it must be said that, when it comes to dealing with real-life situations, Frances makes Poppy look like Margaret Thatcher by comparison.
What Maisie Knew (2012)
Family is where you find it
Adults need to pass tests to get a license to drive a car, we have to apply to the State Department for a passport to travel abroad: heck, one of these days, we might even have to register to buy handguns, after the UN takes over Texas or something. One feels that there really ought to be some sort of test required for parenthood.
Young Maisie is living what should be an idyllic lifestyle, in a huge Manhattan apartment, with a Rock Star mother, an art dealer father, going to a really cool elementary school with all sorts of bright schoolmates. The problem is that she is just one more shiny accessory in her self- involved parents' lives, analogous to a Louis Vuitton suitcase for them to squabble over when the break-up happens. The only people capable of acting unselfishly towards her are the two pieces of eye candy that the parents take up with after the split, both of whom are pawns in the struggle between Susanna and Beale.
The cast is first rate. Coogan plays his best "Steve Coogan" role, familiar from "Tristram Shandy" and "The Trip": you kind of want to like him, but you wouldn't trust him as far as you can spit him. Alexander Skarsgard and Joanna Vanderham give substance to their peripheral characters, and young Onata Aprile, like Christopher Walken, conveys volumes with just her eyes. Julianne Moore plays an absolute monster, who is allowed one, probably transitory, moment of self- awareness at the very end of the story: other than that, Susanna is just bad news.
Silver Linings Playbook (2012)
Good movies have been made about mental illness; this isn't one of them.
David O. Russell has always appeared to me to be the fourth member of a quartet of directors, roughly contemporaneous, who include Paul T. Anderson, Wes Anderson, and Alexander Payne. I would say that, of the four, he has always been the weakest. The only one of his films I truly enjoyed was "Three Kings". With this effort, I think he may have slid a little bit farther down in my estimation. He did manage to get good performances out of his cast, but when that cast includes Robert De Niro, Jacki Weaver, and Jennifer Lawrence, that should be a given. As for the film itself, it was kind of a mess, really. It just seemed interminable, with a whole cast of irritating people acting in dramatically implausible ways. The most sympathetic character, for me, was Tiffany, but I suspect that had more to do with Jennifer Lawrence's performance than anything that was written into the part. I hope she gets the Oscar that she earned for "Winter's Bone", and I hope a worthier role comes her way in the near future.
Quartet (2012)
The Sunshine Boys, Merchant Ivory style
This is the sort of film I normally strenuously go out of my way to avoid: the feel-good movie, especially the feel-good movie (Billy Elliot comes to mind) in which characters find "redemption" and "meaning" through Art. As a rule, the Brits do this kind of film much better (Brassed Off, the Full Monty) than Hollywood (no examples I would care to cite, I haven't had my breakfast yet); this is a hybrid, being a British written and produced movie, with an American director (Dustin Hoffman) making his directorial debut at the tender age of 74.
So, why did I go to see this? "The Big Yin", Billy Connolly, of course. I dote on the man: all it takes is an imitation (and I believe that every single British comedian, of either gender, has one) to make me smile. So, aye, I knew at some point I was going to have to see this, and I am happy enough to have seen it on the big screen (there, I just did one). The acting from the entire cast is, of course, first rate; how not, when the cast is headed by Maggie Smith, Michael Gambon, Pauline Collins, and the great Tom Courtenay? With all respect to my main man, Billy Connolly, Courtenay's performance is what drives the picture; I'm old, and this man has been appearing on screen since before I was even born. We are talking some serious actor's chops here.
As for the story, it's just one of those: "will they get the Gala on stage and save this wonderful home, where they can be themselves and inspire future generations?" What do you think? I can't say that I noticed the direction, one way or the other: I suppose you would have to categorize Dustin Hoffman as an "actors' director", which is what's called for in a film like this. For me, the best part of the film was the end credits, where the actors' names were accompanied by head shots from when they appeared in opera companies and symphony orchestras way back in the day.
This Is 40 (2012)
40, down
Wow, this film seems to be generating a lot of hostility: I am not quite sure what's behind it. I guess people went into this expecting a sitcom-like, snappy feel good film, like 40 Year Old Virgin? Or goofy, happy-go-lucky characters such as Seth Rogen's posse in Knocked Up? Did these people not see Funny People? I am all in favor of letting Mr. Apatow develop as a director. To be clear here: this film follows Pete and Debbie's story arc from a few years after the events in Knocked Up. The are both turning 40, and neither is handling it particularly gracefully, but they weren't handling their lives and relationships particularly well in the earlier film. I found this movie to have a Larry David Show quality to it: however irrationally and offensively our protagonists behave, there are always others who will go them one better (or worse). Yes, Debbie and Pete are defective human beings; but so, I would argue, are all the people inhabiting this world, excepting the very gentlemanly Graham Parker (and Billie Joe Armstrong). Such is the stuff of comedy. Are these caricatures? Surely, and yet they are caricatures of realities which I see every day. Is the teenage daughter given to histrionics? You bet, but that is what teenagers are like, and the fact remains that teenagers turn their parents into equally irrational and histrionic characters in that relationship; I actually found it refreshing to find a teenager in a movie, played by a teenager, who isn't a wisecracking savant commenting on the follies of her elders.
To sum up, this felt to me like a mature work from a good director. There are moments of farce, slapstick, and outrageous humor, surrounded by moments where things just happen. For people who can't handle that kind of pacing, you are welcome to stay out of movie theaters, and sit in front of your TV sets: the networks are sure to have plenty of non-challenging sitcoms that are specially designed to pander to you.
Hitchcock (2012)
A biopic that actually feels like a real movie
I find it constructive to compare this movie with last year's My Week With Marilyn: both films focus on a well known Hollywood figure, each engaged on a specific project, and the struggles that their creative temperaments cause in the realization of those projects. In both films we are conscious, to greater and lesser degrees, that we are watching actors portraying these iconic figures (in the earlier film, Marilyn Monroe and Lawrence Olivier, in this Hitchcock, Janet Leigh, and Anthony Perkins), and in each we have moments of the actors' slips showing, as it were; moments where we feel "Ah ha, there's Kenneth Branagh!" or "Yep, Scarlett Johnasson." The difference for me is that this feels much more spacious, much more like a movie that might have been made had we never heard of Alfred Hitchcock. The previous movie felt airless by comparison. I feel a lot of factors contributed to this: the inclusion of the Ed Gein backstory, and its effect on Hitchcock's subconscious, the lush cinematography, and Danny Elfman's score all played roles in making this picture breathe.
A Late Quartet (2012)
Yet another silly Beethoven movie
I seem to have a week spot in my head for movies dealing with the life and music of Ludwig Van Beethoven (not, I would hasten to add, for movies starring St. Bernard's dogs). If nothing else, I will say that you are pretty much assured of having a good soundtrack. Not having learned my lesson from the transcendent piffle of such films as "immortal Beloved" and that one with Ed Harris playing Beethoven, the name of which escapes me at the moment, I got sucked into this rather silly film. What this movie does well; Christopher Walken. He gives the film any of the weight it has, from reading from T.S. Eliot, to giving a cracking (and plausible) anecdote about Pablo Casals. He inhabits the part of a master musician coming to terms with the end of his playing career with a quiet gravitas; his eyes do most of the work. Also, the other members of the quintet play their roles as musicians quite well: the driven first violinist, Mark Ivanir, and Philip Seymour Hoffman, playing a man quite literally fed up with being second fiddle, and Catherine Keener, as the violist with emotional ties to all three of her fellow members. And I have to say that Imogene Poots (a name even P.G. Wodehouse would have fought shy of using in any of his writings) doesn't disgrace herself in a rather thankless role, as the daughter of Hoffman and Keener's character who inevitably has an affair with Ivanir's character. Where the film falls down is in the plot. It's not so much that the plot veers into melodrama, and from melodrama into farce; Beethoven's own life, after all, was redolent of both farce and melodrama. The problem is that all the melodramatic and farcical elements are so blatantly telegraphed. We see them all coming a mile off. A more damning problem I had with the film (after all, I do enjoy both farce and melodrama, in good cause), was the absurd use of Angelo Badalamenti's score to heighten the melodrama. I mean, here you have four very good actors, all perfectly capable of conveying emotion through their craft. The movie hinges on a performance of Beethoven's Opus 131, arguably the most sublime composition ever; why not use that for a score? I made it a point to sit through the final credits to the end, just to hear the end of the quartet. It might well have been the best part of the movie.
2 Days in New York (2012)
Post-romantic comedy, part 2
I mentally tagged this film's predecessor, "2 Days in Paris", as a post romantic comedy, i.e. a comedy examining a relationship after the passion has banked down, and the relationship sustains itself mainly on how well the couple can get along with each other. If "Romeo and Juliet" had had a happy ending, Shakespeare could have written a post-romantic sequel, set five years latter, as the couple struggle with their whacky in-laws, Juliet's strained relationship with Romeo's annoying best buddy, Mercutio, and for good measure a couple of squalling brats. In this sequel, Marion has split up (finally) with her annoying boyfriend Jack, and is living with her son Lulu in her boyfriend Mingus' apartment. Mingus, played by Chris Rock, has shared custody of Willow, a daughter from a previous marriage, and everything seems very cozy, although Mingus is annoyed that Jack has been teaching Lulu to call him "pretend-father", which sounds like Jack. Marion is preparing an exhibition of her photographs, themed around relationships, featuring herself in bed with other people, and before you can say "Nan Goldin", we are told that as part of the opening, she will be auctioning off her soul to the highest bidder. Then, the eagerly awaited visit from her family: along with the expected Jeannot and Rose, from "2 Days in Paris", Manu, now installed as Rose's boyfriend, has made the journey, which makes him the straw that is like to break Mingus' back, and send him for long visits into his office to talk things out with a cardboard cut-out of Mr. Obama. That's the set-up: I don't want to throw out any spoilers. Suffice to say that the culture clash comedy is about as good as you are going to find anywhere, Delpy shines again, and Chris Rock, for whom I have never had much use as an actor, gives a surprisingly nuanced performance. Oh, and from now on, whenever I'm (word I'm not allowed use of by IMDb, but rhymes with "sit") on by a pigeon, I'll wonder what I have done to deserve it,
Sleepwalk with Me (2012)
If you're sure nothing else good is in movie theaters...
I guess I should start with a disclaimer: a couple hours after seeing this movie in the theater, I popped a copy of Akira Kurosawa's Red Beard into my DVD player, because I had borrowed it from work a couple of weeks back, and the pressures of managing fantasy baseball teams in two leagues hadn't afforded me the time to commit to a 3 1/2 hour epic set in Tokugawa era Japan. Consequently, my recollections of this film will perforce be even more evanescent than they probably would normally have been.
So, the set-up is this: our hero, Matt, is living (and it would appear, being supported by) his brilliant, gorgeous longtime girlfriend, Abby. In the course of working open mikes and providing intros for established comedians, he has managed to work up "almost eleven" minutes of material. A flaky agent sends him on the road to a series of extremely bush league engagements where, through dint of desperation, determination, and by mining his fear of commitment to his relationship with Abby, he manages to find his comedic feet, and carve out a career for himself. His lightning strike on the road to Damascus is the line he throws out backstage, talking to a more established comedian: "I'm not going to get married until I'm sure nothing else good can happen in my life". And there is the crux of the film. Matt is tired of everybody correctly perceiving that his relationship with Abby is the best thing that can be said for him, and so, at whatever cost his subconscious takes out on his sleeping hours, he starts to pull out of the relationship. At the end, he concludes that Abby was going to spend the rest of their lives with him just because she doesn't want to hurt him.
The problem I had, and it's not a serious one, is believing that choice. Maybe it's just my appreciation for Lauren Ambrose, but really, there have been perfectly happy marriages built on worse foundations. The relationship of his parents contributes to Matt's misgivings: his batty mother, wonderfully played by Carol Kane (and why the hell isn't she in more movies?), and his stern father (James Rebhorn), might seem like a misalliance at first glance, but nothing in the film suggests that they aren't perfectly happy together, if a little uncomfortable to be around. And really, is a life of parking lot assignations with stand-up groupies (I suppose there are such groupies, but what a sad thought) the something else good that can come along?
In short, I liked the movie well enough: it was a treat seeing Ambrose, Kane, and Rebhorn, the backstage camaraderie amongst the comics rang true, and Birbiglia's actual stand-up pleasantly reminded me of Garry Shandling's delivery. My complaint would be, no matter how true the story is, it still basically feels implausible.
Beasts of the Southern Wild (2012)
This is why I go to see movies
Beasts of the Southern Wild is a film unlike any other I can think of. The closest I can think of would be AGUIRRE WRATH OF GOD, and some of Terry Gilliam's films, particularly ADVENTURES OF BARON MUNCHAUSEN and TIDELAND. Yet there is an organic quality, a sense of place, that makes it unique. And Quevenzhane Wallis is a much more assured 6-year old actress than Sarah Polley was. The cinematography is excellent, the score is kept carefully under wraps until it bursts triumphantly into full volume during the final credits (something I wish more directors make note of). And any complaints that aurochs didn't look like giant wild boars miss the point of the movie: the aurochs that inhabit Hushpuppy's imagination are the aurochs that are tattooed on Miss Bathsheba's thighs: as with everything else in the Bathtub, they are works of salvage. Like the works of Herzog and Gilliam, this film represents a triumph of the imagination.
Take This Waltz (2011)
Still trying to figure Sarah Polley
I have developed something which I have dubbed my "Sarah Polley Complex". Consider: As a pre-teen, she appeared in one of my all-time, top-10 movies ever, Terry Gilliam's THE ADVENTURES OF BARON MUNCHAUSEN; She featured in my two favorite Atom Egoyan movies, EXOTICA and THE SWEET HEREAFTER; One of the films which got me into Michael Winterbottom, THE CLAIM, also was graced by her; She directed Julie Christie in AWAY FROM HER; And she starred in series three of "Slings and Arrows", which, until I discovered "Deadwood", I might have considered as my favorite television series.
And yet...I'm not sure whether (SWEET HEREAFTER aside) I have ever thought of her as being able to act her way out of a paper bag, and after this film, I'm not sure how I feel about her as either a writer or a director.
I have to commend this movie for being honest enough to show its characters, all of whom are generally very likable people, as occasionally insufferable. It is a treat to watch Michelle Williams, and let me say that I am in no doubt of her abilities as an actor. It's nice that Seth Rogan has been given a chance to show off some chops in a more or less serious role, although it's a little disconcerting to discover that, slimmed down, he looks a bit too much like Ben Affleck for my comfort. And I have to say that Sarah Silverman gave a very plausible performance as an alcoholic. The problems for me are in some of the directorly touches; the pointless montage as our heroine and hero are deplaning, the nauseating use of steady-cam as they sit over their untouched martinis being the two glaring examples. I guess the message of this film is that some people need to fill the hole that appear in their lives whenever the momentum lessens; some choose alcohol, some new relationships, and some being spun around an amusement park to the tune of "Video Killed the Radio Star", which may be the most benign palliative. Also, it's probably not a good idea to allow your relationship to reach the stage of casual urination in front of your significant other.
When this comes out on DVD, it will lend itself to a neat drinking game: down a shot whenever you spot a cast member from "Slings and Arrows". I made it to a round half dozen, on first viewing in the theater.
To Rome with Love (2012)
When in Rome...
A slight, fitfully amusing collection of thematically linked but otherwise unconnected vignettes, all taking place in Rome. The highlights were the casting of Judy Davis, the perfect Woody actress; the story of the mortician who would rival Domingo, if allowed to sing in the shower; and the city of Rome itself, which is pretty damned gorgeous. Most of the segments are intermittently amusing, but more than anything else this reads like a collection of Woody's prose, brought to screen, which he accomplished with much greater success in DECONSTRUCTING HARRY. Altogether, a good reason to avoid 4th of July lunacy, but certainly not a great film.
Bernie (2011)
Slab of Life
Jack Black inhabits the character of Bernie Thiede, a fastidious, slightly epicene, extremely civic minded assistant mortuary director, who becomes enmeshed in the extremely demanding clutches of the wealthiest widow of Carthage, Texas. All of the performances in this film are spot on brilliant, but most especially those of the chorus of Carthage's upstanding citizenry, who are all anxious that Bernie receive justice, tempered strongly with mercy. This film marks the first time I've enjoyed seeing Matthew McConaughey on screen since DAZED AND CONFUSED; perhaps he should work with Richard Linklater more often.
Moonrise Kingdom (2012)
This is why I go to movies
Wes Anderson creates spectacular quotidian worlds. Every detail in every one of his frames is meticulously realized; like Dickens, he leaves no loose ends. The shot that still has me dizzy is the view we get of the Bishop's living room, all violently clashing plaids, set off by the incredibly garish slacks being sported by the bare-chested Mr. Bishop (Bill Murray) on his way to "find a tree and chop it down". What other directors, seeking to emulate Anderson's whimsy and tweeness, don't understand is the sheer amount of bloody diligence which goes into creating these immaculate universes. Where Anderson's hermetically ordered worlds are allowed breathing space is in the latitude he gives his actors to bring their characters to life, and in this film the adult actors relax nicely into their roles. Where Anderson really gives free reign is to his juvenile actors, the Khaki Scout troop as well as the two leads, and they reward him with energetic, fully inhabited performances.
The sole sour note on the evening was having to see this wonderful movie at The Sundance Kabuki, where the "amenity fee" brought the price of my ticket to $13.50. In no way do I regard having to choose my seat before seeing the house an amenity; in fact, it is quite the reverse. This website won't let me publish my true, "Deadwood"-ian opinion of Mr. Redford, so I will just state that it will hopefully be a long time before I have to patronize his theater again.
The Five-Year Engagement (2012)
Van Morrison sings Van Morrison better than anyone else
It had been over two months since I had last ventured forth into a movie theater, and what the heck...an Apatovian movie, on my way home from work, starring Jason Segel and Emily Blunt, two eminently appealing actors: what's not to like? This was my thinking, such as it was. This film, it turns out, is marginally better than Forgetting Sarah Marshall, and not nearly as good as Get Him to the Greek. On the plus side, the actors all performed their parts well, and there were a lot of good actors scattered throughout the ensemble, including Brian Prosehn, Mimi Kennedy, David Paymer, Jim Piddock, Chris Parnell, Jacki Weaver, and Rhys Ifans. Molly Shannon's cameo is the funniest thing I can remember her ever doing. Jason Segel and Emily Blunt have decent chemistry, Segal and Chris Pratt have absolutely amazing chemistry. Some of the set pieces were pretty funny, especially in the first half of the film. The negative? Pretty much everything else. There is a lot of air in this film. San Francisco is not even remotely a character in the movie: a lesbian chef is about as San Francisco as it gets. Pop quiz: if you're traveling from San Francisco to Ann Arbor, which Bridge do you cross? Hint: it's not the Golden Gate. The City pretty much could have been any place else, and the same holds true, I'm sure, for Ann Arbor. The University of Minnesota Psychology Department should consider legal action for being portrayed as sub-moronic, and lord knows professional chefs chop onions a whole lot better than anyone in this film seemed capable of doing. Outside of the acting, the whole project just felt lazy and half-assed (I was going to type "half-baked", but in fairness I think that would have brought about a major improvement in the quality of the finished product, or it certainly wouldn't have caused any damage). I left the theater with the sense that this was the most mediocre movie I had ever watched. It was average. Oh, and one thing more: I love, love, love, love crazy love Van Morrison's songs, but really...nobody sings Van nearly as well as the Man himself. Why the mediocre cover versions?