Oscar Picks '09

My picks for the main 5 categories (these are not based on Oscar predictions, but my own general opinion):

Best Picture:

Avatar

Up in the Air

The Messenger

A Single Man

A Serious Man

Invictus

Where the Wild Things Are

The Hurt Locker

An Education

Inglorious Basterds

Best Actor: 

Colin Firth - A Single Man

Jeff Bridges - Crazy Heart

Morgan Freeman - Invictus

Ben Foster - The Messenger

George Clooney - Up in the Air

Best Actress:

Emily Blunt - The Young Victoria

Meryl Streep - Julie and Julia

Helen Mirren - The Last Station

Carey Mulligan - An Education

Arta Dobroshi - Lorna's Silence

Best Supporting Actor:

Woody Harrelson - The Messenger

Matt Damon - Invictus

Christoph Waltz - Inglorious Basterds

Alfred Molina - An Education

Brian Geraghty - The Hurt Locker

Best Supporting Actress:

Julianne Moore - A Single Man

Vera Farmiga - Up in the Air

Anna Kendrick - Up in the Air

Zoe Saldana - Avatar

Melanie Laurent - Inglorious Basterds

Luminescent 'Pandora:' A World 14 Years in the Making

'Avatar'

Review: 5/5

Over a decade ago, writer/director/FX mastermind James Cameron proposed a highly ambitious undertaking: a $400 million film about an ex-marine sent to a distant planet to help humans harvest 'Unobtanium,' a lucrative, jagged crystal. Studio execs scoffed, and with good reason: Cameron wanted to shoot the epic narrative in 3D, and with motion capture as opposed to animation. Fourteen years ago, 'Avatar' was an overly audacious visual composition. Today, Cameron's magnum opus stands complete as a monolithic visual achievement in the 21st century, infusing an extraordinary neon radiance into the stagnant collection of stale aestheticism that's been plaguing the film industry for some time. And that's not to say attention to story detail was abandoned. In fact, this high-concept ode to pantheism and environmental panic is founded in the classic 'hero-narrative' structure, pitting crippled ex-marine Jake Sully (Sam Worthington) against a warmongering human entity - a timely American allegory with virtuoso technical execution. 

Understanding many 'blockbuster' filmmakers' propensity for roaring action sequences, it may be a bit of a surprise to some that, while Cameron has infused his melodrama with a thoroughly extensive, action-drenched third act, it's not without motivation. At it's heart, 'Avatar' is an examination of humans' propensity for infinite freedom, inspiring Worthington's 'Sully' to make profound moral modifications. It's a melodramatic opus worthy of each mesmerizing battle, all of which soar with an explosive visual and emotional intensity: it's everything we go to the movies for.

If there is one area that lacks an 'A+' mark, it's the individual performances, which are often times overly histrionic to the point of satire. But this is a minor criticism of a film that will be exalted as a defining cinematic landmark in this generation. It's an incomparable visual odyssey, a humbling, grand-scale work of cinema magic, and is this year's best picture.

'Globes' Honor Vengeful Jews, War Dramas, Technological Breakthroughs, and Jason Reitman

Not much respect is given to the Foreign Press. Somehow by considering musicals and comedies in a separate category altogether, the general value of films released within the year are eclipsed by a horde of what seem to be unnecessary nominations (Nine, Rob Marshall's newest musical is currently being lambasted by critics everywhere and yet is nominated for various awards). So did the Press get it right this year? In my opinion, yes. 

Below is a list of the nominees for this year's Golden Globe Awards:

BEST MOTION PICTURE, DRAMA

• Avatar
• The Hurt Locker
• Inglourious Basterds
• Precious
• Up in the Air

(films snubbed: The Messenger, A Serious Man, Where the Wild Things Are, The Fantastic Mr. Fox, Up, An Education, Star Trek)

BEST PERFORMANCE BY AN ACTRESS IN A MOTION PICTURE, DRAMA

• Emily Blunt, The Young Victoria
• Sandra Bullock, The Blind Side
• Helen Mirren, The Last Station
• Carey Mulligan, An Education
• Gabourey Sidibe, Precious

(actresses snubbed: Arta Dobroshi, Melanie Laurent)

BEST PERFORMANCE BY AN ACTOR IN A MOTION PICTURE, DRAMA

• Jeff Bridges, Crazy Heart
• George Clooney, Up in the Air
• Colin Firth, A Single Man
• Morgan Freeman, Invictus
• Tobey Maguire, Brothers

(actors snubbed: Ben Foster, Sharlto Copley, Johnny Depp, Jeremy Renner, Nicolas Cage, Max Records)

BEST MOTION PICTURE, COMEDY OR MUSICAL

• (500) Days of Summer
• The Hangover
• It’s Complicated
• Julie & Julia
• Nine

(this is pretty accurate)

BEST PERFORMANCE BY AN ACTRESS IN A MOTION PICTURE, COMEDY OR MUSICAL

• Sandra Bullock, The Proposal
• Marion Cotillard, Nine
• Julia Roberts, Duplicity
• Meryl Streep, It’s Complicated
• Meryl Streep, Julie & Julia

(actresses snubbed: Zooey Deschanel)

BEST PERFORMANCE BY AN ACTOR IN A MOTION PICTURE, COMEDY OR MUSICAL

• Matt Damon, The Informant!
• Daniel Day-Lewis, Nine
• Robert Downey Jr., Sherlock Holmes
• Joseph Gordon-Levitt, (500) Days of Summer
• Michael Stuhlbarg, A Serious Man

(actors snubbed: Bradley Cooper, Ryan Reynolds, Jesse Eisenberg, Sacha Baron Cohen, Adam Sandler)

BEST ANIMATED FEATURE FILM

• Cloudy With a Chance of Meatballs
• Coraline
• Fantastic Mr. Fox
• The Princess and the Frog
• Up

(looks good)

BEST FOREIGN LANGUAGE FILM

• Baaria (Italy)
• Broken Embraces (Spain)
• The Maid (Chile)
• A Prophet (France)
• The White Ribbon (Germany)

(films snubbed: Lorna's Silence, Let the Right One In, Coco Before Chanel, The Damned United, An Education)

BEST PERFORMANCE BY AN ACTRESS IN A SUPPORTING ROLE IN A MOTION PICTURE

• Penélope Cruz, Nine
• Vera Farmiga, Up in the Air
• Anna Kendrick, Up in the Air
• Mo’Nique, Precious
• Julianne Moore, A Single Man

(actresses snubbed: Natalie Portman, Maggie Gyllenhaal)

BEST PERFORMANCE BY AN ACTOR IN A SUPPORTING ROLE IN A MOTION PICTURE

• Matt Damon, Invictus
• Woody Harrelson, The Messenger
• Christopher Plummer, The Last Station
• Stanley Tucci, The Lovely Bones
• Christoph Waltz, Inglourious Basterds

(actors snubbed: Richard Kind, Peter Sarsgaard, Alfred Molina, James Gandolfini, Brad Pitt)

BEST DIRECTOR

• Kathryn Bigelow, The Hurt Locker
• James Cameron, Avatar
• Clint Eastwood, Invictus
• Jason Reitman, Up in the Air
• Quentin Tarantino, Inglourious Basterds

(directors snubbed: Spike Jonze, J.J. Abrams, Michael Mann, Marc Webb, Wes Anderson, Robert Zemeckis)

BEST SCREENPLAY

• Neill Blomkamp and Terri Tatchell, District 9
• Mark Boal, The Hurt Locker
• Nancy Meyers, It’s Complicated
• Jason Reitman and Sheldon Turner, Up in the Air
• Quentin Tarantino, Inglourious Basterds

(screenplays snubbed: Lorna's Silence, Invictus, Up, Public Enemies, Funny People)

Suffice it to say, themes of post-war survival, economic stability, underdog glorification, and environmental concern (see: Avatar) are wholly relevant in a year dominated by recession and socio-political commentary. Will the Oscars offer a different outlook? Perhaps, but this year's 'Globe' nominations, I'd say, are an accurate prediction of what's to come in February.

'Fox' is 'Fantastic'

'The Fantastic Mr. Fox'

Review: 5/5

Wes Anderson should have made an animated film years ago. His penchant for carefully drawn, introspective caricatures is all the more fascinating with a camera that self-reflexively dollies left and right, up and down, in a calculated whimsy that is an exquisite fit in the animation realm. The fact that Anderson chose to use an archaic, stop-motion style of animation that seems entirely out of place given Pixar's ridiculous monopoly on all things cartoon, should be a credit to the auteur's innate directorial sensibilities. He's a well-regarded eccentric, and is one of the best working American directors today... oh, and have I mentioned his new 'Fantastic Mr. Fox' is the most exuberant of all his work? 

The plot and essential themes are those that are familiar to Anderson, given his wholehearted embrace of 'outsider' protagonists who often find themselves alienated from respected social cliques. They also maintain an unusual desire to execute grandiose, hair-brained undertakings that always go awry. 'Fox' is no different. Mr. Fox, voiced by George Clooney, finds himself aging faster than he would have liked, and convinces an Opossum friend of his to burglar a few of the nearest entrepreneurs, Boggis, Buntz, and Bean. Of course, things don't go as planned, and hilarity ensues... I don't mean that in a sarcastic way. I'm being completely literal. It's hilarious.

With original music by Alexandre Desplat (a perfect compliment to Anderson's decidedly idiosyncratic world), glowing cinematography by Tristan Oliver, proficient stop-motion animation, and, of course, a perfectly formatted script that caters to all things divinely atypical, and with a fitting sense of unity and togetherness, 'Fox' is one of the best films of the year. Animated or otherwise.

Economic Stability Still 'Up in the Air'

'Up in the Air'

Review: 5/5

In film school we're asked consistently to analyze films not only formally and aesthetically, but as a representation of contemporary ethnology. How is the film a response or reflection of current societal norms? Does that or does that not enhance the credibility and value of the film in question? Jason Reitman's 'Up in the Air' answers these aforementioned questions, specifically mirroring the disposition of a unified nation confronted with domestic catastrophe. With a tragically comic tone, and brought to mortality by Reitman's expert writing and direction, the film renders compassionate performances from everyone involved, from Zach Galifianakis to George Clooney.

In a narrative almost intentionally written for this era in U.S. history, Clooney's Ryan Bingham plays a selfish businessman who prefers stereotyping to racism. He's lovably detestable as the film's performance centerpiece, whose job it is to terminate employees when their own employers cowardly opt out of the sordid situation. Oh, and he has an unusual affinity for airline food and four star hotels; a faux-reclusive whose insecurities are not restricted only to personal relationships. He intentionally isolates himself, as his job requires that he make no real, human connection. That is, until he meets Alex Goran (Vera Farmiga) who describes herself as Bingham with a vagina.

Bingham's life is that of a corporate gypsy, afraid to accept a reality that may sometimes offer emotional anguish, and instead preferring a sterile existence enriched by the all-encompassing, desolate whites, blues, and blacks that are adroitly observed by cinematographer Eric Steelberg. The soundtrack by Rolfe Kent adds a somber sentimentality to Bingham's odyssey, audibly mirroring the film's narrative arc that affectionately studies one man's disconnection from a world seemingly on the verge of collapse.

Inform the NOK, and Do Not Offer Hugs

'The Messenger'

Review: 4.5/5

Who would imagine the job of the U.S. Army casualty notification officer would consist of so many rules and regulations? Don't touch the NOK (next of kin), don't inform anybody else except the NOK, be on duty 24 hours a day, and beware of the beeper; it's the high-pitched ring of grief delivery. Writer and director Oren Moverman understands these statutes having served in the Israeli Army earlier in his life, and wholly details the heart-wrenching duty the film's primary characters face on a daily basis. These characters, played impeccably by Ben Foster and Woody Harrelson in Oscar-worthy performances, are devoted to their job, and often do it well despite their rabid insecurities and overwhelming anxiety (Harrelson's Tony Stone is a recovering alcoholic who rarely sleeps, and Foster's Will Montgomery suffers from an extreme case of PTSD and survivor guilt). 

To elaborate, Montgomery is a U.S. Army Staff Sergeant who's just recently returned to the states and is considered by many of his peers to be a 'hero' for his service in Iraq. He's partnered with Tony Stone as a rookie member of the Army's Casualty Notification service. Preferring to woo his former girlfriend (Jena Malone, also great), Montgomery frowns at the idea of "grief counseling" until he finds an unusual connection with Olivia (Samantha Morton), a poor widow with a young son. What unfolds is an abnormally upsetting, quietly humorous portrayal of grown men without any family, who build a kind of understated brotherhood out of diffidence and subdued depression. Don't expect any buddy-film cliches here. This one aims for the jugular.

Shot by Bobby Bukowski with a verite'-like grittiness comparable to a heavily sedated ' Jason Bourne' adventure, the film is rendered with a visual sense of authenticity, reminding the spectator that this job is all too real. Moverman knows this, and shows a genuine empathy for his despondent subjects in one of the year's best films.

Simply Put: Great 'Education'

'An Education'

Review: 4.5/5

'An Education,' based on a memoir by Lynn Barber, may appear to be a simple tale of adolescent egotism and ill-placed complacency. Is it? Yes. But with virtuoso direction courtesy of Lone Scherfig, expert cinematography by John de Borman, and an Oscar worthy performance from Carey Mulligan as the film's naive protagonist, 'Education' becomes a quietly iconic, modestly leveled tour-de-force.   

Taking place in Southwest London in the 60s, the film follows teenage Jenny Miller (Carey Mulligan) as she obediently attends private school, and studies Latin as per her father's incessant demands. Why so diligent? Her family, mainly her father (played in another Oscar-worthy performance by Alfred Molina) wants her to attend Oxford, and doggedly pushes her, sometimes against her will. This is all well and good until David Goldman (Peter Sarsgaard) a charismatic, dapper thirty-something charms the young girl taking her to exclusive night clubs, chic restaurants, and Paris (yes, Paris). 

If the formula sounds a bit routine, then maybe it is. If not for the overall formal and technical execution, it could have very well been a mediocre film at best. Instead, cinematographer de Borman exercises a formal depth and erudition, casting the obscure London town in a dual hybrid of stark pastel exteriors and deep gold and blue interiors, which coalesce to mirror a kind of binary state of mind, riddled with the delightful contradictions that are the bases for teenage angst: it's a winning formula on both scales. As is the nearly flawless direction by Scherfig, who directs with a thorough knowledge of her characters and the monotonous world they inhabit (Goldman's attitude towards redemption is brilliantly conveyed as an inhabitant of such tedium). In fact, the same tedium Jenny is struggling to escape. Not to worry. She'll learn her lesson.

Overly Grim 'Precious:' Underdog Story Borders on Ridiculousness

'Precious: Based on the novel PUSH by Sapphire'

Review: 2.5/5

The opening credit sequence in Lee Daniels' 'Precious' is presented over a black screen, scribbled illiterately in what seems to be orange crayon. This brief, maudlin preface whimpers piteously across the screen, blatantly reflecting Claireece 'Precious' Jones' ignorant, subjective view of a lower-class U.S. society, populated by stereotypical caricatures that parade across the screen, gratuitously pleading for spectators' empathy. I recognize that we're in a time of recession, and underdog narratives should be quite the apt societal appeal, but the unnecessary, borderline obscene histrionics that dominate Precious' world reminds the audience that things sure could be worse. Daniels doesn't once ask the audience to admire Precious' dogged persistence, but instead asserts vehemently that you pity the girl and the ludicrous plausibility of nearly every obstacle she encounters.

Consider an early scene during which Precious' evil mother, played by Mo'Nique, rifles a glass bottle at her daughter in the den of their less-than-modest apartment, and screams cruel platitudes in a rant that is overly scripted and probably more articulate than it should be, given the distinctly bleak world that Daniels wholeheartedly invites the spectator into. This early scene firmly establishes the 'evil mother' caricature who's so relentlessly overbearing that her actions and dialogue become progressively absurd and unmotivated. It's seemingly a one-note performance, and Mo'Nique ups the ante with a complete embrace of all things malicious. Her own spectrum of human emotion remains absent throughout the film (until the film's climax, which itself renders a narcissistic, evil Mo'Nique who finally offers some insight into her evil-doing. And how does she do this? By screaming, ranting, and crying, with the malevolence meter cranked to 11). And all the spectator can do is feel sorry for Precious, as she is the target of her mother's misplaced anger (and let's not forget Precious' dreams, which are visited in a flashback-like aesthetic, and boast aggressively poor construction and execution). 

In all likelihood this film will be nominated for an abundance of Oscars given its subject matter and the overtly topical goings-on. Is it the best film of the year? In my opinion: absolutely not.

A 'Carol' for Everyone

'A Christmas Carol'

Review: 4/5

Charles Dickens' classic tale is familiar to anyone who's been witness to countless sitcom and filmic adaptations. Themes of greed, generosity, compassion, and humanity permeate the adage rendering it a universal account of man's deepest and most potent tendencies toward materialism and warns of the remorse initiated by such acquisitive inclinations. That a modern, cinematic telling of 'A Christmas Carol' may seem to be a bit of a superficial undertaking could not be more amiss. The world today stands on the brink of chaos triggered precisely by the fondness for monetary gluttony that Dickens' tale distinctly foretells, and director Robert Zemeckis acknowledges this reality with a visually untamed jolt of 3D fascination, executed with a virtuoso knack for such a groundbreaking technology and a kind of innate aptitude for infusing charm and benevolence into the nucleus of his films' sincere spirit. His version of 'A Christmas Carol' is as true to his voice as any film he's directed, and it boasts not only a thrilling ride through a harsh wintry landscape, but an incredible performance from Jim Carrey as the universally detested Ebenezer Scrooge.

Everyone knows the story. A greedy man is haunted by three ghosts, and offered an introspective evaluation of his life's choices. You know how the story turns out. But that's not the point here. This contemporary remake of such an eternal narrative is timely both technologically and culturally. Never has a 3D film been carried out with such arduous devotion to precision. The camera soars eagerly through Scrooge's past, ducking underneath oak trees, and darting toward and through the starry night sky. A brilliant opening sequence has the spectator dodging Christmas reefs and chestnuts on a busy avenue corner only to swing inside Scrooge's office and land gently on a medium shot of the old hag scribbling away on Christmas Eve, and ignoring his nephew's request for him to join his family for Christmas dinner. Another sequence, featured in the film's trailer, has Scrooge gripping tightly to a brown top and flying, literally, in front of full moon. It's an immediately classic scene that will be remembered for years to come.

Culturally, I cannot stress the relevance of this film. It pleas sincerely for humanity while vehemently renouncing greed and maliciousness. In a country inundated by two partisan media outlets, each verbally assaulting one another in the guise of patriotism, there is not a better cinematic reminder that we are, all of us, easily susceptible to one of the greatest sins known to man, and that we can conquer this propensity with personal reflection, and a firm belief in hope.

 

Clooney and 'Goats': The Only Two Worth Watching

'The Men Who Stare at Goats'

Review: 3/5

It's a bit of a disappointment to label 'The Men Who Stare at Goats' a mediocre outing for director Grant Heslov. The trailers looked promising, the story wildly original, the cast impeccable, so what happened? Subjectively, here are a few theories: 1. the voice-over narration robs the film of its absurdity and relies on such a conventional plot device to further the unusually thin narrative, 2. the script could have used a few revisions - 'Goats' plays like a cliffs-notes version of a film that would have benefited from less montage and narration, and more attention to the bizarre central characters, and 3. the film was rushed into production mainly due to its innovative, satirical interpretation of the contemporary Iraq war. All this aside, the film is enjoyable as it stands, and boasts a hilariously compelling performance from George Clooney.

The film documents 'Daily Telegraph' reporter Bob Wilton (Ewan McGregor) and his search to find a gripping story in Iraq to prove to his ex-wife that he's worth being with. By kismet, he meets Lyn Cassidy (George Clooney) who he persuades into allowing him on a very, very secret mission: to locate psychic-spy founder of the New Earth Army, Bill Django (Jeff Bridges). What is the New Earth Army? What are psychic spies? Cassidy lets Wilton in on this information, and the film plays intermittently by Cassidy's memories, which are narrated by Wilton, and are far, far too short. The comedy never elevates beyond its one-joke premise. Good thing for the filmmakers: that one joke is hilarious (look for a defining scene involving a manipulated Cassidy, and a harmless goat).

Coated in thin yellows, tans, and oranges 'Goats' clearly aims to be lighthearted fare, which, at its core, it's not. This is an unfortunately gentle comedy masquerading as an acerbic social satire - an exceedingly conflicting hybrid that lacks a finite identity. It plays less on the execution of the absurd, and more on the minimal observation of the ridiculous. Comedic timing is replaced with an air of misplaced quandary - jokes fall flat. Good thing Clooney can win a staring contest. 

Look Around: 'Box' is Everywhere

'The Box'

Review: 3.5/5

Writer/director Richard Kelly's films seem to exist in isolated expanses of time and space. They are a caustic expose' on characters with odd jobs and an all encompassing adoration for cosmology and quantum gravity. 'The Box' is no different, focusing attention on a school teacher, Norma Lewis (Cameron Diaz), her husband, Arthur (James Marsden), and an ominous man with a terrifyingly unusual scar, Arlington Steward (Frank Langella). He shows up at the doorstep to the couples' unadorned suburban home, and offers them a box with a foreboding red button inside. If they are to push it, they receive a million dollars. The catch? Someone will die. "Is this something we can live with?" Arthur asks his wife tentatively. Such is the premiere question that dictates the film's tightly-woven narrative arc.

So as not to give away spoilers I will not elaborate on the plot further, though it is by no means preposterous, as a majority of critics assert. Rather, the film is an inspired, high-concept parable that infuses a stark reality with supernatural accoutrement that only adds to the enthralling nature of the film's quasi-science fiction nucleus. Observing elements of suspense and harsh social commentary, the overall drab, muted atmosphere is at both times heightened and subdued - a vicious hybrid of realism confronted with the unexplainable. Why is the menacing, yet oddly polite, Steward so casual in his presentation of such a morbid catch-22? Maybe it's because he's wise enough to know that, especially in a time of recession, materialism is an unfortunate primordial value.

Shot in bleak whites, greys, blacks, reds, and browns and lensed with a keen adherence to the sense of dread and unease, which manifests in obscenely long-shots interspersed with rapid editing, Kelly formally suggests that the monotony of suburban life exists on the relative edge of unforeseen disorder, very much like chaos theory itself.

Seriously? Coen Brothers' Newest Film is Unrelenting

'A Serious Man'

Review: 4.5/5

"I'm not an evil man!" Larry Gopnik screams in his stuffy, collegiate office, and with legitimate reason. He's been the unfortunate victim of unmotivated divorce, a possible bribery scandal, a car accident, and anonymous letters that denigrate him and his chances for tenure. His neighbors hate him. A naked woman visible from Gopnik's house roof distracts him infinitely. He's forced to move out of his own home and into a cheap motel with his brother in law, Arthur, whose brilliance manifests in very unfortunate ways. His son steals money for pot. His daughter does the same for a nose job. And on top of that, the rabbis he visits offer, essentially, superficial advice that amounts to more and more questioning. It's an exhausting decathlon that Gopnik takes valiantly in stride, even though all signs point to an eventual self-implosion. He's a 21st century hero who battles an intangible enemy without any apparent weaknesses.

"Many people lose track of Hashem," says the unusually young rabbi Gopnik visits first, offering him no help in his existential struggle that, at this point, is only beginning to mount. Frustrated, Gopnik storms out of the rabbi's office, and into his own, where a phone conversation suggests that by doing nothing, one is subject to torment. Gopnik, who teaches physics at the collegiate level, finds himself at odds with these unexplainable phenomena. Mathematics can answer everything, can't it? This is a question the Coen's posit, but that they do not explicitly answer, out of respect for the spectator's intelligence. After all, they've given the audience plenty of signs that suggest various possible solutions to all of Gopnik's unwarranted problems. An opening prologue offers more of a clear answer, but I feel there is much more to it than is initially presented. To avoid spoiling the jarring adventure for readers, I'll refrain from a gratuitous discussion of the film's possible meanings.

Suffice it to say that the film, which is shot with a kind of continuously dynamic framing that adds a certain gravitas to the seemingly insignificant setbacks, has a strong element of macabre that is emphasized with the Coen's use of an oddly thunderous score that builds gently until the film's final, disturbing frame.  

No One's a King, They're All Children

'Where the Wild Things Are'

Review: 5/5

The opening scene in director Spike Jonze's adaptation of Maurice Sendak's children's book, 'Where the Wild Things Are' features the film's protagonist, Max, a young pre-adolescent whose energy only exceeds his imagination, ferociously chasing what seems to be a dog, but the cutting is so rapid and exhilarating it's hard to know for sure. This scene firmly sets the tone of Jonze's audacious interpretation of 'Wild Things,' an innovative and bold film that, in time, will be recognized as a landmark achievement in imaginative sovereignty, formally and aesthetically, that should have devout classical Hollywood cinema enthusiasts scoffing and discarding the emotional resonance this film produces.

The film plays distinctly by Max's emotional tones which generally dictate the plot developments, thereby creating a much more relatable world for children (though this realization may startle them). Max lives with his single mother and sister who, from his tender perspective, ignore him and disregard his requests for participation in his endlessly inventive attempts to fashion artificial worlds that serve as a fortress for his solitude. Frustrated that he feels abnormal, Max initiates a fight with his mother, bites her shoulder, and tears off into the night. Into another realm populated by 'Wild Things' that carry with them their own unfounded insecurities, and take a genuine liking to Max after he makes unrealistic promises about being a sort of saint. He's destined to save the 'Things,' whose world is made up of circular homes built of sticks, a rock fortress with tunnels, sand dunes, and a sun that dies. The world is cast in drab greys, browns, golds, interspersed with greens, and whites - an aesthetic palate that compliments the 'Things' and Max's constantly oscillating emotions. It's an uncompromising visual triumph and a candid plea for filmmaking ingenuity in the 21st century, shattering expectations of universal tradition and cultural labels. Max is unapologetically feral and violent, the 'Things' are vulnerable and thoroughly insecure, Max's sister doesn't jokingly dislike him, she ignores him altogether, and his Mother doesn't spout off inane cliches during the film's denouement. It's a daring amalgamation of vastly conflicted, anarchistic characters that all genuinely desire to be loved.

Even more anarchic than Max and the 'Things', is the film's loose narrative structure, which deviates from Hollywood formula. Yet, the film's content renders that deviation motivated: it's an escape to a world where we see through Max's childlike imagination - an escape from a world of rules and science, and into a land engineered only by sporadic imagination. This is not to say the film defies story to the point of theme deprivation. In fact, the film carries with it classic themes of love, forgiveness, and impatience.

In an era that this country is in now, an otherworldly film like this offers the purest, most authentic form of escape. If only we were as enlightened as Max. 

Owen, MacKay Elevate 'Boys' Beyond Melodrama

'The Boys Are Back'

Review: 3/5

Director Scott Hicks' 'The Boys Are Back' could have easily been a vapid tale of regret and loss suitable for daytime syndication on the Lifetime Channel, but, under Hicks' tender direction the film soars as a charming ode to life after grief; a study of sorrow merged with vivacity that infuses the film with a kind of dual atmosphere, brought all the more to fruition by Clive Owen's portrayal of a benevolent father without a clue, and by George MacKay, as Owen's eldest, estranged son, Harry, who deserves Oscar consideration for his heartrending turn as a tormented teen growing up without a father.

The plot is relatively familiar, although it is, I'm told, inspired by a true story: Joe Warr (Owen) is an esteemed Australian sportswriter with a lovely wife, a young son (Nicholas McAnulty), and an older son (MacKay) who's the product of a failed marriage. Warr's current wife dies suddenly, her death being attributed to the all-too-familiar cancer epidemic, and it becomes Warr's mission to reunite his two sons, abandoning rules and responsibilities in favor of various forms of amusement. "Just say yes," Warr posits, in a valiant, if flawed, effort to divert his sons' focus from tragedy into an effervescent, cathartic lifestyle free of austerity. That this demonstration of carelessness ultimately leads to obvious plot developments is forgivable, considering the exceptional nature of the overall production.

The cinematography by Greig Fraser, relying on warm summer hues that elicit the quiet, buzzing nature and tone of the overall film is some of the best of the year. An opening sequence of Warr speeding down an Australian beach at sunset in an SUV with his youngest son resting on the windshield, screaming with excitement, is lensed with an idyllic, almost dreamlike tracking shot that discreetly alters its focus to the horizon as the SUV speeds on. This photography gorgeously indicates not only Fraser's ability to find a sense of life in the indistinct haze of dusk, but Hicks' deft directorial feel for perseverance, no matter how gentle the message may be. It's a genuine, inspiring film during a time of recession.

Arrogant 'Amreeka': A 96-Minute Sermon

'Amreeka'

Review: 2/5

There's a palpably didactic declaration that echoes throughout writer/director Cherien Dabis' unambiguously biased American-immigration character study, 'Amreeka,' that insists that a Palestinian view of a recently post 9-11 U.S. is saturated with offensively drawn caricatures, elementary discussion of the Iraq war, the starkness of which is derisory, and an impressionable protagonist, Muna, that's continually susceptible to the oppressive American government, inhabited by malicious police officers, and bankers that politely ask that Muna not blow the bank up if she is to be hired. Not surprisingly, she isn't hired. Instead she's forced to work in a conveniently presented 'White Castle.' When asked by her niece why she didn't at least pick 'Wendy's' she sighs and disregards the comment. America to her is a 'White Castle,' lacking color and inspiration, peopled with overtly oppressive supervisors, and a teenage dropout named 'Matt,' which Muna advises translates to mean 'death' in Arabic. Come on.

The film, which documents Muna and her teenage son Fadi's migration to America, Illinois to be more precise, initially presents these two characters as hopeful and eager to pursue a freer life in the states. Yet, once they arrive at an American airport, they're subject to unnecessary racial profiling that borders on absurdity when an overbearingly stern police officer confiscates a cookie jar that he believes could cause a threat to the airport's safety. It doesn't stop there. Once enrolled in a nearby high-school, Fadi, who's only shown in a class conveniently titled 'Current World Issues' endures white skater-teens' defense of America's invasion of Iraq, while Fadi and his cousin, clearly, argue against this notion. Why the white American teens in this film are intentionally portrayed as racist dogmatists without any significant counter-representation is evidence of an inconsiderate filmmaker who disregards fact to make a superficial argument seem factual. Michael Moore would be proud. And yet, it gets worse. Fadi is soon inundated with the teenage 'American' lifestyle which, we are told, instructs him to wear baggy hoodies and smoke marijuana. On his first night being particularly stoned, he decides to slash the tires of the bigoted white kids in his class. He's in-turn the victim of a beating at school, which the white principal (who we soon learn is a Polish-Jew who can't seem to catch a break in America due to, according to him, his cultural background) justifies, affirming Muna that they're just silly kids.

Aesthetically the film seeks to impart a sense of graphic realism, utilizing a verite' style of shooting that works initially in the film's poignant exposition, but is then compromised by the cartoonish representation of Palestinian life in America. These elements compete when they should unite, creating an uneven narrative and technical balance, which Dabis embraces, attempting to mask superficiality with faux-realism.

'Retreat' is Harmless

'Couples Retreat'

Review: 3/5

There's something about the banter between Vince Vaughn and Jon Favreau that brings an element of languor to any film they approach. Peter Billingsley's 'Couples Retreat,' is no exception, pairing the aforementioned duo with the hilariously deadpan Jason Bateman and the seemingly impressionable Kristen Bell. The film offers nothing extraordinary by any stretch, but its gentle approach to contemporary relationships suggests lighthearted fare that aims to be nothing more than a jocular compilation of familiar humor and conventionally drawn characters.

If you've seen any of the countless trailers, you know the premise. Bateman's relationship with Bell is approaching rocky terrain, so the two coerce their friends into a week-long vacation at the ominously titled 'Eden' - a picturesque beach that "looks like a screen-saver." Once the group realizes that they're in for early-morning therapy and "couples skill-building," hilarity ensues. Original, thoughtful hilarity? Not by any means. But if you enjoy Vaughn ranting incessantly about the restraints of the island, Bateman playing his quintessential straight man, Jean Reno as an eccentric French therapist, a gratuitous 'Guitar Hero' battle, cameos from John Michael Higgins and Ken Jeong, and kitschy little kids that say the darndest things, then this film will more than satisfy. If you're looking for the next 'Hangover,' I would politely advise you to stay away. Far, far away.

The film is essentially director Billingsley's debut (IMDB informs me he directed and indie film in 1994), and judging from the film's story and pacing, he seems to be more suited for the television medium. He lacks a distinguishable style and most commonly resorts to standard shot compositions and an exceedingly traditional mise-en-scene that seeks to play strictly by the book with no evidence of personal insight or an honest knack for comedy (credit Vaughn, Bateman, and Favreau for their flawless comedic timing and execution). An opening montage offers mild suggestion otherwise, but, all things considered, this film knows its disposition.

Scariest Movie of All Time?... I'd Say No.

'Paranormal Activity'

Review: 2.5/5

Maybe I'm a victim of a superfluous marketing campaign that made insincere promises about the tonal gravity of Oren Peli's 'Paranormal Activity'. Or maybe the film authentically is more than a bit tedious. Observing the film's protagonists Micah and Katie biding their time at home, busying themselves with talk of a demonic presence that's haunted Katie since she was eight years old, does not at all build tension. It builds frustration and provides the film with an ongoing anticipatory nature that never satisfies the spectator's desire to be genuinely scared.

During the film's overstayed exposition (it lasts more than twenty minutes in a ninety minute film), Micah and his girlfriend Katie, who are unusually agoraphobic for some reason, discuss the demonic presence ad-nauseam in a monotonous 'chit-chat' manner. This is, of course, when they're not conversing about Micah's consistent use of the camera, providing the audience with his point of view throughout the prolonged daytime sequences that merely amount to the inevitable bedtime scenes, which linger for far too long, consistently with an unsatisfying result (after the first twenty minutes... a door slams shut. Terrifying). Yet, these night sequences, which are viewed through a static camera with a 'night-vision setting,' I will admit, are a bit unnerving. Why the director chose to utilize these scenes to create an unnecessary, eventual sort of expectation, I do not know, since the film never offers any form of fulfillment.

The faux-documentary conceit is supposed to, I'm assuming, add a level of false realism to the film. This phony 'reality' is plagued by the continuing perspective of the camera. For the majority of the film, we are to believe that we're looking though Micah's point of view, but there are various scenes that follow Micah while Katie's in another room. Who's holding the camera? The so-called 'reality' is compromised in an arbitrary attempt to build tension. And this tension amounts to (SPOILER ALERT): slammed doors, a swinging chandelier, a broken picture frame, and grating off-screen noise. These elements could very well produce tension and fear, if only they were to add up to a rewarding climax.

'Silence' is Deafening: Foreign Film is One of the Year's Best

'Lorna's Silence'

Review: 5/5

In a scene early in the Dardennes brothers' newest film, 'Lorna's Silence' Lorna, played with a quiet fervor and insipid self-deprecation by Arta Dobroshi, is caught in the middle of her decrepit apartment living room, while her arranged husband Claudy (played exceptionally by Jeremie Renier) pleads with her to help him stay off heroin. She hesitantly refuses, but words do not communicate this altercation. Watch Dobroshi's face as she considers Claudy's request: the spectator can completely interpret what she's thinking as she scans her mind for a sincere, but firm way to respond to Claudy's inquiry. Such is the success of the film, which is part drama, part psychological thriller (an unnervingly quiet thriller shot with documentary-style realism). The Dardennes brothers focus intensively on the character of Lorna, who's caught in a dual lifestyle that slowly begins to corrode while she struggles to live the life she's dreamed of.

The story centers around Lorna and her husband. They're Albanian emigrants in Belgium that maintain an unusual desire to open up a snack shop, but, in order to do so, they need money, and a permanent resident status. An Italian mobster, Andrei, helps Lorna and her husband with this issue, concocting a plan to have Claudy, a heroin junkie, marry Lorna in order to gain citizenship, then divorce and remarry her real husband. Yet, as is obvious, affairs are not carried out in the proper manner. Without giving away spoilers, suffice it to say Lorna finds herself guilt-ridden, spiraling downward into the fringes of insanity. Watching Dobroshi slowly implode, both mentally and physically, is to be witness to an incomparable exhibition of the malaise caused distinctly by various forms of exhaustion. The performance is worthy of an Oscar. She will be nominated.

Much credit needs to be attributed to the Dardennes brothers for creating a tone of harrowing disquiet by utilizing such a limited formal technique. The tension in this film is comparable to that displayed effectively in the Coens' 'No Country for Old Men,' constructed not by a lingering soundtrack or long stretches of dialogue, but by a naturalistic technical style, and, equally, Dobroshi's multilayered portrayal of Lorna, whose gradual decline occasionally results in self-mutilation. That no one involved in the affair bothers to notice the extent of Lorna's desolation, not because they are unconcerned with her, but because her level of hubris is abnormally high, subtly proves her resolute willingness to exert herself far beyond her boundaries to live the life she wants. 

'Whip' Never Cracks: Formula Falls Flat in Drew Barrymore's Directorial Debut

'Whip It'

Review: 2.5/5

Despite the mise-en-scene built entirely of loud primary colors, the great original concept, and the promise of Ellen Page playing a derivative of her delightfully anarchic 'Juno,' 'Whip It' staggers across the screen with an unusual didactic sensibility, thoroughly founded in kitsch. Throughout the film the spectator is explicitly reminded that women are uncompromising in their desires, blinded to the point of intentional stubbornness. What could have been a delicate character study is morphed into a hybrid of childlike decorum and fatuous feminine lament (the dad, played by Daniel Stern, drinks beer and watches football). The result limits the actors to one-dimensional anachronisms required by the film's conventional approach to a non-conventional subject.

Ellen Page plays Bliss Cavendar, a former beauty-pageant participant living in the archetypal small-town anywhere USA where ennui rules and nothing 'cool' ever happens to anyone. Especially poor Bliss who bides her time living through her mother's vicarious dreams for her. Needless to say, when Bliss discovers a roller-derby in a nearby town (Austin, TX), she lies about her age and joins the team. She becomes the star, the team starts winning games, she falls in love, she falls out of love, she upsets her mother with her defiant adherence to roller-derby, etc. You can see where this one's going.

What's most unfortunate, though, is that Page, who is an actress of considerable talent, exhibited in 'Juno,' 'The Tracy Fragments,' and 'Hard Candy,' is limited to a character that has two defining characteristics: indifference and a kind of atypical benevolence that only comes to fruition in the film's last act. This permits Page the opportunity to pout her way through the shamelessly obvious impediments that anyone taking on this new endeavor would very likely face. I wanted to empathize with Bliss, but given her direction to maintain a quiet, bellicose temperament, I became eventually annoyed with her superficial demeanor, even though it seems that Page is attempting, scene by scene, to layer her muted performance.

The film is shot with the aforementioned loud primary colors, which proves to be the filmic equivalent of a moving 'Hello Kitty' bus. It assaults the spectator, reminding us that we'd better be paying attention... or else. The direction by Barrymore is respectable given that this is her first outing in the position. She does come across with a very recognizable visual style, I'll admit, but the film, which attempts to be a punk-rock ode to bored teenage girls in rural towns, makes a cacophonous wail, urging for recognition.

 

 

Style Over Substance: 'Fame' is all Flash

'Fame'

Review: 1.5/5

The general moral that the 'Fame' story seems to posit is that, whether or not diligence grants individually desired results, it is in our best nature to keep going - to move on, to "live forever." In this contemporary reboot of an already popular musical, director Kevin Tancharoen insists that the spectator accept the deliberate lack of story in substitute for disorienting dance sequences, cut together with a ferocious intensity that would have 'Transformers' director Michael Bay inquiring: "What the hell is going on?" The film plays out like an overwrought music-video montage, featuring shallow, stereotypical characters with no depth or genuine insight. But to Tancharoen, that's not the point. Character and story serve merely as a combined backdrop for the wildly choreographed dance numbers, assembling an overly-urbanized atmosphere that deprives 'Fame' of its most profound messages.

The film, which follows several students attending the New York City High School for the Performing Arts - their areas of focus all blatantly complimenting their racial and class status: the Black and Hispanic guys produce Hip-Hop, the goofy Jewish kid writes screenplays, the evidently gay male is a ballet dancer, etc. Why couldn't the Black guy be a ballet dancer? Why couldn't a gay male produce Hip-Hop? I suppose these are unfair questions considering the film prides itself on adherence to formula - the most diluted of formulas, but formula nonetheless.

I don't need to describe where this film is going. If you haven't seen 'Fame' in any medium, just watch the trailer. No surprises here. No attention to story either, which is unfortunate seeing that the drama carries with it such culturally relevant themes of persistence and hope (great themes for a film in a time of recession). That said, it's a bit frightening that 'Fame,' whose audience is clearly the vulnerable child-demographic, contends that the world in urban areas is brimming with cultural stereotypes. And given the continual box-office success of films in this same genre (Step-Up, Stomp the Yard, Take the Lead), these stereotypes are destined to live forever.