The Fighter

Before I saw The Fighter, I was ready to dismiss it as another variation on one of my least favorite Oscar bait archetypes: the sports underdog movie. Luckily, what I got instead is a bolder and rawer movie than the advertisements made it look, with some standout performances and a distinctive filmmaking style.

The movie is shot in a way that almost looks like a documentary, with less emphasis on production values and more on intimate character interaction. The style suits the movie well, giving everything an added sense of realism and making the drama more tense and personal. On top of that, the camera-work paints a genuinely bleak picture of a family stuck in a working-class Massachusetts slum.

The movie follows half-brothers Micky Ward (Wahlberg) and Dicky Eklund (Bale) and their family as one tries to make his name as a boxer and the other tries to reclaim it. Christian Bale once again proves how far he's willing to go for a role. He's the thinnest he's been since The Machinist, playing a delusional has-been who destroyed his career with his crack addiction. The character is equal parts charisma and desperation, and Bale plays the part brilliantly, earning every bit of his best supporting actor nomination. Wahlberg, on the other hand, is the most fit he's ever been, and gives a cleverly understated performance. The chemistry between the two half-brothers is the highlight of the movie, and every scene featuring them together stands out.

The boxing is the best I've seen in almost any movie. It's fast, visceral, and intense, offering a nice change of pace from an otherwise slow but gripping movie. However, viewers looking for an entertaining action flick should be warned: this isn't a fun movie. It's a mostly sad film that has as much to with desperation as with hope and ambition. Sometimes it's downright difficult to watch, but that less of a criticism and more of a compliment to the talent involved for crafting such a real and gritty drama. If you don't mind your sports movies a little dark and unpleasant, you'll be treated to a sharp script and a talented cast all delivering their finest.

Score:

It's A Wonderful Life (Day 12)

We all seemed to hate taking our medicine as children, didn’t we? It seems like this trend of resisting certain films – only to adore them when they’re given a chance – is a notable quirk of mine. But in terms of boosting personal morale, which has honestly been a bit low for me lately, maybe another visit to Bedford Falls is exactly what I need. It is ironic that a movie I used to hate watching as a kid every year now is easily my favorite of all time. Thanks for being persistent until I got its message, Dad, and Happy Birthday. This one’s for you.

DAY 12: IT’S A WONDERFUL LIFE

I don’t even know how to review this film, or how this is going to read. So maybe I should just talk freely about it instead…Put bluntly, I have never seen a film that is so time-specific and yet so timeless at the same time. It is fitting that it begins with a series of prayers that go up on Christmas Eve 1946, in the little town of Bedford Falls, New York. In that particular moment, a man named George Bailey (James Stewart) is described to God by others as selfless, someone who some people owe everything to, someone adored by his wife and at least one kid…and yet, as we pan up to an image of blinking stars (one meant to be God, one Joseph…interesting metaphor, to say the least), they realize that Mr. Bailey is considering suicide. So they bring in a angel named Clarence, a simpleton but with the “heart of a child” (guess which strength is most cherished), trying to earn his wings. And in order to prepare Clarence, Joseph and God narrate George’s life for him…and in the process, we learn why he can be simultaneously so loved and yet so miserable.

I could give you every event that occurs in these flashbacks, but it would be a moot point. The appeal of this story is not merely in the sequence of events but in the details, in terms of the wonderfully varied characters and the little motifs that are, shall we say, “Hee-Hawed” into each scene. It makes them relatable and really helps you believe that these people have lived and laughed with each other for decades; in other words, you find genuine friendship developing on screen…But put bluntly, we find out that George has always had a longing for exploration but a sense of selflessness that is greater. He notices that his father’s work at the Bailey Building and Loan Association is small in one sense, but great as well because it is managed independently of miserable slumlord and financial titan Mr. Potter (Lionel Barrymore). And on repeated occasions, from tragedy to financial crisis, he repeatedly has to step up as the noble-hearted adversary to provide a well-intentioned place for people to take out loans and earn savings for their families. Some could argue that Bailey is a human model of communism and Potter capitalism, but it seems to be more of a basic difference – between, respectively, a man who sees money as a means to greater ends and someone who wants it for its own sake – and Stewart and Barrymore play off each other perfectly in this respect, each reflecting the contrasting effects (on the soul, more than anything) of sacrificing one goal for the other. Both of their efforts are top-notch, seeming simultaneously particular in their focus and universal in their ability to be understood, and you can either root for or despise them all the more for it.

And indeed, sacrifice is a central point here. Despite Bailey’s efforts showing notable impact on Bedford Falls and his blossomed relationship with Mary Hatch (Donna Reed) – a woman, in all honesty, much more attractive for her wholesome assertiveness than most actresses today – he continually needs to give up every opportunity to leave his town (even for vacations or honeymoons) to keep everyone else afloat. And every time he hears about his brother and friends in their noble adventures and endeavors, you can see how much it pains Bailey to hear about it. Any sort of shortcoming in makeup or clothing (because the film does span several decades) is more than compensated by the incredible use of body language by every member of the cast, especially in James Stewart as he reveals increasing bitterness and sense of being increasingly “trapped” in every subsequent scene. He knows that he could leave at any time he wants, and no one would fairly blame him for it…which makes it all the more heartbreaking when a mere slip of the mind threatens to throw it all away in one day. Ergo, the numerous prayers by family (he has four kids, by the way) and friend alike, and the way such heartbreak is displayed ranks right up there with Shawshank.

The direction by Frank Capra in these scenes is notably remarkable, because not a single line, camera close-up or visual detail is wasted. The fact that he made it specifically for black-and-white, and it STILL holds up even when colorized, shows how meticulous each shot is. Every action Bailey makes, for better or for worse (mostly better, though), has a direct impact somewhere later in the screenplay and serves to knock him down to his final rung before he is lifted up…through the appearance of Clarence that snowy night (and by the way, for a simple-minded angel, he is surprisingly competent in his job). To note one particular example, it is pointed out that Clarence (wonderfully performed, pure heart and all, by Henry Travers) is reading the book “Tom Sawyer”, which I did not always understand the reasoning behind. As it turns out, there is a scene where Mr. Sawyer fakes his own death, in order to find out how those around him would react at his funeral. A brilliant little clue for those not sure how God will tell his angel-in-training to handle George’s lack of self-worth.

About 75 percent of the film is built up to maybe 15-20 minutes of us seeing just how different the world (even beyond Bedford Falls, in some instances) would be without Mr. Bailey existing. Think “The Five People You Meet In Heaven”, except much less preachy. Needless to say, audiences are surprised…and yet not surprised…by how much worse things would be without him, and Potter is demonstratively proven wrong in his claims about the value of Bailey’s life. Again, the immaculate set design and perfectly-displayed nuances by the cast make the difference in this alternate universe all the more striking. This is truly character acting at its absolute best, and if you are not at least sniffling a little bit once George Bailey learns his lesson, you have a heart as granite-hard as Mr. Potter’s. OK, maybe it will come across a little too sentimental or sappy for some people, but its impact remains profound.

It shouldn’t come across as too surprising that this film absolutely bombed when first released, despite its five Academy Award nominations, only to be appreciated following its airing on TV a few decades later. Its message is, in all honesty, in striking contrast, to a numbers of the brutal, tragically flaunted ideas put forth in society back then (or even today, for that matter). But maybe that is why it is needed. Whether it is due to feeling unappreciated at work, overcoming a mistake, or simply feeling insignificant in an ever-shrinking global society, it is very tempting to focus primarily on building up yourself – because after all, if you don’t promote yourself, who else will? But while standing up for your dignity is all well and good, it is nice to be reminded that your acts of decency are cherished more than you know and probably make more of a difference than you can realize. The sentiment may be corny, but putting the previous question another way, if you don’t promote goodwill, why the hell not?

I absolutely cherish everything about this movie, and not least because it reminds me why I admire my father so much. Growing up, he NEVER told me (despite my curiosity) how much he made as a lawyer, preferring to say he made “Enough” – enough to provide for us, enough to give back to charity, and enough to assume all his responsibilities. I see a good deal of George Bailey in him, and maybe that is the best compliment I can give him. But maybe by watching this film regularly – with its carefully written script, fantastic pace and buildup, and characters that every everyman can relate too (I haven’t even begun to describe them all adequately) – maybe I can enjoy the feeling of being truly “rich”, too.

Score:

TOMORROW (DAY 13): GROUNDHOG DAY

The Day The Earth Stood Still (Day 11)

Greg's Take:

Old sci-fi films have a rare talent for taking the most unsubtle premises and making them feel sincere rather than contrived. And The Day the Earth Stood Still exemplifies that talent better than most. The premise of an alien coming to Earth to deliver an ultimatum seems like something out of The Twilight Zone, complete with an obvious message that would be dismissed as heavy-handedness if it were done in modern times. For a lot of people this could easily be seen as a flaw, but for me it's part of the appeal. Movies like this manage to combine the goodheartedness of moral fables with the "anything is possible" intrigue of science fiction, which might be enough to leave an impact on even the most jaded viewers.

The highlight is Michael Rennie as Klaatu, the alien who comes to Earth with a simple yet powerful message: make peace or be annihilated. He pulls off a careful balancing act of class, wit, and deadly potential, without ever being too overt about his true nature and intentions. On top of that, his dialogue is superbly written, making any scene with him a joy to watch. And as he begins to find value in the planet he first savagely condemns, it forces the viewer to feel the same.

Admittedly, the production seems very obviously dated, so the goofy looking robot and flying saucer that are supposed to represent technology far superior to ours seem like benign threats at worst. Seeing the future through the lens of the past will always feel a little awkward, but this movie is smart enough not to turn itself into an effects spectacle, instead putting its focus on exploring humanity from an outsider's viewpoint. And in this respect it succeeds.

Score:

Ian's take:

The film does still feel like a success, even after all these years and corresponding advances in CGI. But the reason why this film succeeds is not merely because it evaluates humanity from an outsider’s perspective. We have cheesy Keanu Reeves remakes and other preachy pseudo-Messiah films for that. Maybe this is just me being a bit shell-shocked from angry television commentary, but this film also works for me because it actually makes humans seem…real. Every reaction they have against Klaatu, from the man wanting credit for helping the Pentagon to the armed forces concerned about protecting the public, doesn’t seem forced and instead holds a somewhat justifiable (though not always correct) sense of reasoning behind it. At a certain point, the excuse that “humans will attack anything different from themselves” (aka James Cameron Syndrome) feels stale to hear at best.

Particularly noteworthy are the characters that seem to modify their opinions properly, based on the new information they receive. In the process of finding temporary lodging under the alias “Mr. Carpenter”, Klaatu befriends a WWII-begat widow named Helen Benson (Patricia Neal) and her son Bobby (Billy Gray). What works so well is that Helen and Bobby do not immediately think that “bright, strange man” is the same as to “message-bearing alien” at first glance. Instead, they simply note his unique intelligence (and lack of knowledge of basic US history), while Helen appreciates his bond with her naturally curious and surprisingly well-mannered son. Of course, they eventually piece things together and find themselves in the mix of world-altering matters…but their natural charisma and likability makes us eager to follow them along as they discover the truth, and Edmund H. North’s adapted screenplay (based off Harry Bates’s “Farewell to the Master”) really does make it feel like a fun mystery of sorts – intriguing for its characters, even if you can guess most of the answers before it ends.

But any cheesy Bobby/Encyclopedia Brown jokes aside, there really is a successful buildup to the final scene that feels organic and well-earned; and the ultimate speech by Klaatu really is a phenomenal payoff that allow for some fun interpretations of the film. Where do these aliens come from? Are they from another world in this present moment, or from Earth in the future? Is the warning of destruction solely related to outside weapons like Gort, or does it also involve the atomic-based chaos that humanity can now unleash upon itself? One thing is for sure: even with some special effects and suspense-building devices that feel a bit primitive, its central message remains as powerful today as it has ever been. For that alone, Gort stands head-and-shoulders above the average B-movie classic.

Score:

TOMORROW (DAY 12): IT'S A WONDERFUL LIFE

Our scores and what they mean

For anyone curious, here's what our scores represent. 


0 hombres - Simply put, this is a movie with absolutely no value whatsoever. To give you an idea of how hard this score is to achieve, if a movie gets even one thing right (one funny joke, a comprehensible plot that wasn't plagiarized, a passable performance, a decent action sequence or a single well-shot scene) it warrants at least half an hombre. There's a saying that even a broken clock is right twice a day, meaning even with complete incompetence, you're likely to get something right, if even just by accident. These movies are clocks so thoroughly broken that they're only right on the off chance that their warped and mangled hands point to a better clock.


0.5 hombres - A truly terrible movie. A top contender for worst film of the year if not longer. While sitting through a 0 hombre movie could be seen as a test of fortitude, these movies will only garner disappointed looks from people wondering why you wasted your time and/or money.


1 hombre - An awful movie. It's not unwatchable but it's not worth watching even for free. These movies could be much worse, but that's the closest thing to praise they're going to get.


1.5 hombres - A very bad movie, but one with at least a few redeeming qualities. Like a  bacon, lettuce, and dead raccoon sandwich, there are elements that work but it's far from a satisfying whole.


2 hombres - A bad but by no means terrible movie. Maybe even a guilty pleasure for some. For the rest it might be worth catching on TV if you have time to kill. Watchable enough that you can save your voice to rant in frustration another day.


2.5 hombres  - A mediocre to passable movie. Might be a worthy rental for fans of the genre or style, but nothing worth going out of your way to see. In the immortal words of Bart Simpson, "Meh." (Not making this up by the way. The Simpsons features the first credited use of the phrase "Meh.")


3 hombres - A decent movie. Too flawed to recommend with enthusiasm, but worth the price of a ticket. The bards will sing of its adequacy for ages to come.


3.5 hombres - A good movie, nothing more and nothing less. Add your own snarky commentary here if you want.


4  hombres - A very good movie. Not likely to win many major awards, but it's bound to satisfy fans and win over some skeptics too. Worth owning and rewatching, but not quite worth starting a new religion over.


4.5 - An excellent movie, maybe even a masterpiece held back by some minor flaws. A serious contender for best of the year for its genre. The sort of movie you'll want to send us angry hate mail for, demanding to know why it didn't get 5 hombres.


5 hombres - A true masterpiece. Possibly one of the decade's best. While it's not as impressive as earning the coveted 0 hombres, only two or three movies a year can hope to earn this distinction. The difference between a 4.5 and a 5 is largely subjective (technically it's all largely subjective but I think you know what we mean.)

Guess Who's Coming To Dinner (Day 10)

At this point, there are currently about a dozen or so romance films being released each year. Most of them are comedies that follow an annoyingly similar formula – main characters meet by chance, wacky hijinks ensue (which you’ve likely seen in trailers), love develops, one character screws up and admits his folly (yeah, almost always the guy’s fault), they kiss, credits roll. But what about films that follow them after love is set in place? You get a film that is more serious, but likely more effective in what it can talk about issues beyond the romance itself.

DAY 10 – GUESS WHO’S COMING TO DINNER

It is always quite unusual to watch a film so directly tied to the problems of its own generation, one that we can barely imagine existing today. This is such a film, which depicts the events of one day in 1967 San Francisco. Joanna “Joey” Drayton (Katharine Houghton) is bringing home Dr. John Prentice (Sidney Poitier), and is ready to tell her parents that they are set to be married – and quite soon. John comes across as an almost frustratingly ideal candidate for marriage – incredibly accomplished and well-respected in the medical world, charming, well-reasoned and gentle (dammit, he sets a high bar) – but the most notable trait of his may be one outside his control. Namely, he’s black. Despite leading a very progressive newspaper and art gallery, respectively, Matt and Christina Drayton (Spencer Tracy and Katharine Hepburn) find themselves put to the ultimate test of tolerance right in their own home.

You could find every reason in the world for these parents to oppose the sudden marriage, and this film slowly brings out details that would bother many even if skin color was not the issue. He’s 37 (and already in a terribly tragic marriage before), and she’s 23. They only met about a week and a half earlier, while she was on vacation in Hawaii. And, oh, might I add that due to professional duties on Dr. Prentice’s part, the parents are essentially given one day to ultimately decide whether they can approve the marriage with “no reservations”? Make no mistake: unlike in many romance-based films, the film never, ever questions whether Joey and John truly care about each other. They are deeply in love, and its positive depiction of an interracial relationship was remarkable groundbreaking for its time. But fittingly (and almost frustratingly), the practical questions gradually become minute in comparison to the giant multi-colored elephant in the room, even as the titular dinner becomes increasingly complicated – and life-changing – to the futures of everyone involved.

In all honesty, I cannot imagine a situation where the age, speed and genuine feelings in a relationship would be dwarfed by skin color…and I suppose that is a sign of how different things are now. But in the context of this film, it is a question every single character must ask. In 1967, interracial marriage was still illegal in a number of states and would surely warrant ridicule and social separation of some kind anywhere…and the families of both lovers are well-aware of this. Spencer Tracy and Katharine Hepburn are the true main characters in this film, for although they are merely two of the parents, the questions they must consider most correspond with what the audiences of the time felt, and they are exemplary in their efforts. They fit the role they should and their onscreen chemistry (this being their ninth pairing) is downright tangible, with Hepburn showing graceful resolution in her belief that love is what is most important and Tracy gradually revealing a more frustrated personality that is all-too-aware of the cruelty other people are capable of. I will probably say it a million times over the course of this year, but for some reason – maybe because there was less rush to get to the next scene in films of the past – actors in previous generations do appear to get more immersed in their character’s lives and emotions. And because they believe in it, so does the audience.

In fact, everyone comes across as believable, as decent people who want to do the right thing but are not sure how to do so in conjunction with the slow rate of social growth in mainstream society. The younger generation already feels prepared to take the next steps forward, to the point where one can identify himself as just “a man” instead of as “a colored man”. Poitier and Houghton are refreshingly forthright in this regard, with Houghton showing the resolute certainty in the future that heartfelt love produces at a young age and Poitier displaying the idealistic charm and yearning of a man simply longing to fall in that state once again. They present racism as a flawed mentality that is not permanent, something that feels like it will be around forever but is already in the process of fading away with the previous generation. And to the film’s noteworthy credit, through the critiques of the Drayton’s black house cook Tillie (Isabel Sanford) and John’s parents, they present racial bias as something that needs to be overcome on both sides of the aisle.

Maybe this review is a little shorter because, frankly, my assessment of the film should match how straightforward the film itself can be. Director Stanley Kramer and his cast must have truly felt a collective desire to tackle such a controversial topic, and in a way that said “Screw you!” to those willing to hide away from or condemn those standing against it. This is most poignantly emphasized in the final scene, which actually contained the final speech of Spencer Tracy’s illustrious career (he would die barely two weeks later, and they all knew he was dying at the time) and one where the tears of everyone in the room were real. And thus it moved audiences as well. Personally, I may have some issues with how sometimes the fixation on race relations feels a little…well, forced in occasional scenes. But considering the social context of the time, it was probably necessary and only feels dated now because it did its job then. And on top of its powerful message, fantastic acting and wonderfully subtle camerawork by Kramer, such passion by everyone involved makes it feel like a film you want to finish, with characters you want to see grow and eventually live happily…if not perfectly…ever after.

Score: 9/10 

(must-see for anyone sick of romantic comedies, Kutcher or Aniston)

TOMORROW (DAY 11): THE DAY THE EARTH STOOD STILL (ORIGINAL)

No Strings Attached

I'll begin this review by saying that I've never been the biggest fan of romantic comedies. This is because too often they're not very romantic or very funny and rely too heavily on being cute and quaint instead. If you're a fan of the genre, feel free to take my criticisms with a grain of salt.

This movie follows old friends Emma (Natalie Portman) and Adam (Ashton Kutcher) who decide to become friends with benefits, swearing to do away with love and romance. If you've ever seen a romantic comedy before, you know exactly how this idea will end. But as with every romance, it's the bumps along the way that define the story. In this case it's a mostly rewarding blend of surprisingly bold and bizarre humor. The comedy focuses on the flawed and awkward relationships between flawed and awkward characters, featuring a quirky but likable cast of supporting characters. The highlight is Kevin Kline as Adam's father, who gives out terrible life advice and has a thing for younger women. Every scene with him is a high point of the movie. The most disappointing performance is Carey Elwes as a side character with only two lines despite top billing. It's an even bigger waste of his talent than Saw 3D.

There's unfortunately also a decent number of unfunny moments and jokes that simply fail to pay off. Other scenes just feel altogether useless, especially those that follow largely unexplored side characters. Luckily these are outnumbered by the movie's funnier moments. And some jokes, particularly one about a balloon, are some of the funniest I've heard in the last year.

The two leads both handle their parts adequately. To say that Ashton Kutcher is a limited actor is an understatement, but this role falls perfectly within his range, and for what it's worth he nails it. His role doesn't demand much, nor does he add much to it, but he pulls it off with charm and knows how to laugh at himself.

Natalie Portman's role is a little more demanding, and she does justice to it too, but after Black Swan it's disappointing to see her going back to eye candy roles. Still, it's refreshing to see Portman show a sense of humor, though she doesn't handle comedy as naturally as Kutcher. At times I could almost feel her cringing at some of the lines she had to deliver. Also, I have some problems with how her character is writtern. I'm not going to call Emma a slut, but her obsession with constant casual sex and crippling fear of romance and commitment comes off less like an endearing quirk or flaw and more like a serious personality defect.
On the other hand, it's nice to see Portman show her range and see her character learn to overcome her fear of intimacy, even if it's possibly the most obvious rom com cliche.

I had more fun with this movie than I expected to, but for others who share my skepticism of romantic comedies, I can't promise the same. I can guarantee that this is a better than average romantic comedy by recent standards. What exactly that's worth I'll leave for other people to judge.

Also, just a final random thought: since this movie and Friends With Benefits have essentially the same premise and are coming out at about the same time, wouldn't it make much more sense to call the one with Justin Timberlake No Strings Attached?

Score:

Gladiator (Day 9)

About midday yesterday, it was suggested by my father that I take a look at the most recent Dan Brown novel, “The Lost Symbol”. There is a symbol of world-changing importance lost, Robert Langdon must find it, you get the basic formula for his stories. I never read his previous books as a whole and was honestly skeptical when I began reading…I ended up putting it down after reading to the last page, following 16 straight hours of my eyes glued to the text. Why am I telling you this? I guess it sometimes takes a while for someone's work to pull you in; the same could be said for this film.

DAY 9 – GLADIATOR

In all honesty, I have heard some combination of three common replies when asking people about this film: “I have not watched that film in ages”, “I think I remember a few action scenes” and “Eh, I recall it being okay”. So it shocked me when I learned that this film was actually a juggernaut in 2000, scoring a Best Picture Oscar (along with 4 other wins and 7 other nominations….unreal) and a plethora of praise by critic and fan alike. Why the discrepancy? Now normally, it would help to give a basic summary of the plot and then my overall impressions. But that may not work as well here, seeing as my opinions changed as the film progressed. Bear with me on this.

We are given a basic summary, in both text and action, of the state of the glorious Roman Empire. It is the late 2nd century, and the reach of Emperor Marcus Aurelius would even make Leonidas and all of Sparta uneasy if opposed to it. One battle of resistance in the Germanic barbarian region is all that remains for peace on every frontier, and General Maximus Decimus Meridius (Russell Crowe, at his rugged best) is at the forefront of their triumph. Unrivaled in his combat abilities and the ability to lead with integrity, he is beloved by his soldiers and (as we learn) the Emperor as well. This presents a conflict when Aurelius, in his aged state, presents his intentions to pass the throne to Maximus instead of his biological son Commodus (Joaquin Phoenix, much more charismatic when clean-shaven) – a decision Maximus is not too thrilled about, preferring to return for home to dote on his wife and young son. I am hoping that it does not give too much away, but let’s just say that it never ends well when a brooding character sees longed-for power slip through his hands.

(Insert rant, starting now. Vague spoilers, beware.) And for that matter, for an aging Emperor that has led a massive expense of the Empire, you would think Aurelius would be prepared for betrayal of some kind. Why not write a letter with his intentions just in case something goes wrong, if you are not going to have at the very least, what is he thinking when he attempts to console (to someone losing their sense of self-worth, for that matter) by basically “It’s not your fault you suck, it’s mine”?! Seriously? Give this guy a lecture on letting someone down easy! (End rant.)

Long story short, the way Aurelius is presented reveals a great deal about where Ridley Scott’s strengths and flaws as a director stick out. He is a near-unparalleled genius at battle and action sequences, immersing yourself in a way that gets your adrenaline pumping. That being said, especially in this film, some of the more dialogue-centered scenes feel a bit stiff and sometimes results in characters that feel tacked on for the sake of moving the plot forward. But as the power struggle ensues, and Aurelius’ vision of a return to republican government gets choked away, Phoenix and Crowe exhibit enough intensity and raw emotion to keep you interested in how events unfold. And when one of them makes a no-return choice and the other faces devastating losses for it (and they hold nothing back in revealing this, thank God), the action picks up and the film accelerates into overdrive.

From that point on, it becomes a raw revenge movie for Maximus even as he is captured and put into the slave trade (to fight as a gladiator dubbed “The Spaniard”, for public entertainment), channeling his inner pain into a tangible way to destroy the life that irreparably damaged his. Thankfully, once action is ingrained, it makes the characters introduced more compelling too. Oliver Reed, as Maximus’ buyer Proximo, magnificently fills the role of an aged warrior whose passion for the fighting in arenas is infectious; and since he died during the production of this film, what a way to show your magnetism on the screen to the end. A fellow gladiator named Juba (Djimon Hounsou) becomes his closest ally, and his natural charm serves well to develop the emotional dimension (e.g. regarding the afterlife) of Maximus’ progress. And Commodus’ sister Lucilla (Connie Neilsen), a former lover of Maximus, shows great strength and almost masculine poise in how she responds to the political chaos around her (which, admittedly, did sometimes feel a bit like “breathing scenes”, to give audience a chance to settle down between different battles), which helps us see how Maximus’ battle is somehow keeping hope for Aurelius’ vision alive.

So in essence, the incredibly brutal action scenes, authentic atmosphere and set design (at times, near-impossible to tell it is not really ancient Rome we’re seeing), and (mostly) compelling performances compensate for the occasional dry dialogue and excessively sharp separation of action and discussion. But…there must be a reason why Gladiator resonated more deeply than most other period pieces, and I may have an idea about it. What is sort of interesting to me, in the process of seeing Maximus claw and slash his way to his final destination, is how closely the gladiator scenes resemble our enjoyment of team sports today. Much like in ancient Rome, we idolize those willing to put themselves into such danger….but would usually prefer to see it from the stands. We do tend to be fickle about who we support and who we condemn as unworthy…but almost always, we will support those who deliver results in their competitions. And, sadly, even though we know the horrible toll such events take on “fighters” then and now, we still embrace it because it makes us experience life in its most intense manifestation….because it makes them feel alive too.

My apologies if this seems a bit too long-winded, because it is not intended to be. More than anything, just know that Gladiator is a film that effectively presents violence in a way that does not feel pretentious or slipped in for shock value (and there is a great deal of it, make no mistake). Ridley Scott does a great job of putting audiences in the moment, in a realistic manner that helps us sympathize with the plight of Maximus like we would for any well-told news story of a broken warrior, an aspiring athlete striving to be great again. Despite the slightly predictable storyline and the occasional faulty line or character, what I expected to be a glorified B-movie turned out to be much deeper and more personally relevant experience than I anticipated. Hopefully, the upcoming Super Bowl will be equally compelling – but don’t count on it if the Bears beat the Packers this weekend.

Score:

So I guess my thumb, in judgment, is pointing up

TOMORROW (DAY 10): GUESS WHO’S COMING TO DINNER

Season of the Witch (Greg)

After seeing the number of ruthlessly negative reviews for Season of the Witch, I knew I had to see it. Having seen a lot of bad fantasy in recent years, I was intrigued to see one supposedly so bad that it warranted Uwe Boll comparisons. Having seen it, I can safely conclude that either my standards are too low or the critics are overreacting, though not by much.

The story follows two knights defecting from the crusades (Nicolas Cage and Ron Perlman) and a company of extras not worth naming on a mission to bring an accused witch to justice. This is second-rate fantasy in the truest sense, with imitation ringwraiths, bad cg monsters, and a war sequence that looks like it was lifted from a poor man's Lord of the Rings meets 300.

Nicolas Cage is disappointingly bland, as he is in most roles that force him to play the upstanding hero. He's a more than  capable actor when the material is in his range, and when it's not, watching him embarrass himself is sometimes worth the price of admission. This is far from a career low for him, but considering the lows his career has seen that's as backhanded as a compliment gets. The rest of the cast is the same: adequate but unremarkable. Ron Perlman once again manages to make himself likable just by being Ron Perlman, and for what it's worth, he knows how to get some entertainment value out of stock action roles.

The dialogue is awkward in a way that reminds me of Shymalan's The Village; it sounds outdated but never convincingly period. Characters speak casually in American accents, which is at least better than the faux-British accents we're used to hearing in so many second-rate fantasies. The action is on par with everything else in this film. Attacks are thrown around with choreography better fit for pro wrestling.

The movie tries to create some intrigue about whether the unnamed girl is actually a witch, but it's obvious from the beginning that the movie isn't going to pull any clever twists. I won't give away what happens in the third act, but it steers the movie from uninspired but watchable fantasy into sci-fi channel territory. If Season of the Witch had ended before that point, with no closure or explanation for why it ended, it would still be better off.

So in closing, Season of the Witch isn't a disaster, but it's far from anything I'd recommend paying money for. If second rate fantasy is your thing, then I suppose you could do worse.

Score:

Sherlock Holmes, 1922 Version (Day 8)

Chances are, the following statement will automatically make me sound at least 23 years, 6 months, and 19 days older, but here goes: Kids today do not know how lucky they have it. Silent films are an entirely different beast to tackle, needing to be incredibly selective about which lines of dialogue they post on the screen (by “post”, I mean “shoehorn in between actors maybe saying ‘peas and carrots’ to keep their mouths” moving). Without the use of audio beyond background music, the other aspects of cinematically telling a story were much more significant. But at the same time, examining them on occasion provides a great opportunity to witness how multi-dimensional acting is really meant to be.

DAY 8: SHERLOCK HOLMES, 1922 VERSION

For anyone who has ever read the classic books by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, your ears should perk at the mention of Professor Moriarty, an underground crime lord who seems to be the Godfather on figurative steroids (he’s old, frail and completely unappealing) in his ability to arrange someone’s death with a wave of his chicken-boned hand. It is indicated that his eye is partially focused on the happening at Cambridge, where Prince Alexis (Reginald Denny) asks for the help of his friend Waston (the future Doctor himself, played by Roland Young) when he is accused of stealing money from the university. Watson points in the direction of a young inquisitor named Sherlock Holmes (John Barrymore), who we first see under a tree, observing a bird feeding its babies. Seeing the two at this stage of youth is incredibly fascinating, largely because it gives the audience a chance to see the duo’s initial friendship and radiant curiosity that sparked their later work together, in its rawest form. You could imagine it as that decade’s version of the Star Trek remake, with director Albert Parker assuming the role of J.J. Abrams quite effectively.

Anyway, it is no shock that Holmes quickly determines the real thief, and Moriarty’s role in it (if this is a shock, please go read the books and see what the character was capable of). But unfortunate events hinder his ability to pursue the matter further, and he continues to view the capture of Moriarty as his greatest destiny – even as his reputation for solving crimes eclipses Scotland Yard. Years later, when Moriarty’s agents try to blackmail Prince Alexis, using critical events from those Cambridge days, Holmes finds himself professionally (and emotionally) pulled into the case. What eventually emerges, and how Holmes ends up handling the complex case, is not for me to say. I have had enough Encyclopedia Brown mysteries spoiled by nosy friends to know how low giving such a spoiler would be. All I will say is that Holmes emerges as quite the romantic, and use of light and fire is involved.

OK, this is almost the opposite of my review of Crash, in that the concept is flawed but the delivery is excellent. Let me start with the good news. You can tell how truly disciplined actors were in the silent film era; for every single movement, facial expression, and use of body language is utilized as a way of communicating the dialogue that cannot be typed on the screen (some lines are not told to audiences, for it would make a 90-minute film Avatar-length in run time). The vast majority of the time, even though you don’t hear the characters, you know exactly what they are saying – a huge compliment to the director (as well as writers Marion Fairfax and Earle Browne). In particular, this makes the three central characters shine in a new way. Rather than played him as the usual isolated, embittered crank, Holmes is re-imagined as a wide-eyed, outgoing hero as well as a sleuthing genius – requiring a certain level of confidence and approachability that John Barrymore pulls off easily, with the charisma his acting family is legendary for. In his onscreen debut, level-minded Roland Young also succeeds in bringing out the best in Dr. Watson, making him look like an effectively practical thinker to compliment Holmes deeper questionings (rather than the dullard who merely asks Holmes “How did you solve it?”). And Moriarty…man, if “maniacal” and “brooding” was in the Old Oxford Dictionary, Gustav von Seyffertitz’s performance would be put down as the first synonym.

For its time, the way the scenes were shot don’t impeded the film’s progression, although it feels a bit primitive by today’s standards; and considering the dated nature of the film reel (it was feared lost for decades), it is not that hard to observe and take in everything being seen. However, what I did notice was a conceptual error in how Holmes’ sleuthing was presented in this retelling. Maybe a part of this was due to the film adapting the famous play starring William Gillette in the titular role, rather than the original novels. But most of the time, Holmes’ stories went like this:

______

Act 1: A mystery is presented to Holmes, often a murder or anticipation of a crime against the city.

Act 2: Without knowing who is responsible, we follow Holmes (Watson tagging along) as he does unusual things at a particular scene in his attempts to observe what has occurred…much to the surprise of those who call in his help.

Act 3: Holmes reveals the true villains and how they acted, with every action he did pointing out an additional clue to help solve the case. Everyone is impressed, the pair return to 22 Baker Street for pipes and tea.
______

In my mind, the thing that made Sherlock Holmes influential is that you never quite knew what was happening or going on, but had to trust in Holmes’ judgment in the story to clear things up. In this film, Moriarty is immediately revealed as the main culprit, and the storyline eventually boils down to a game of cat-and-mouse. With some of the action scenes involved by the end, and the mystery most often involving the trapping of the villain instead of who the villain actually is, this film’s tone often screams more Italian Job than Doyle’s literary creation. Which is not to say it is done poorly, just a different beast in nature from what you might expect.

But that basic issue set aside, it really is a wonderful addition to the Sherlock Holmes analogy and one that I think any fan of the series should see. Great in acting (on a whole other level), unique in its depiction of Holmes, and comparatively short in its length, it is a shame so few people have seen the quite-forgotten film (I will post the link below.) This is probably a film worthy of an 8 for fans of silent films or the cloaked sleuth, and more a 6 for everybody else. As for me, my deduction convinces me to post a rating right in between.

Score:

Link to Part 1: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Smm5s-yziPQ

TOMORROW (DAY 9): GLADIATOR

The Social Network (a belated review)

I realized, watching the movie for the second time today, that I've put this review off for too long. The Social Network came out before I took this site seriously, and I wanted to keep a focus on current and classic film. But since this movie is a Golden Globe favorite on the track to win quite a few Oscars, not reviewing it seems like too glaring an oversight.

The Social Network isn't a movie I expected to like. Too many sentimental and sensationalized dramas in the past have made me suspicious of the phrase "based on a true story," and I didn't expect the story behind Facebook and the world's youngest billionaire to be so exciting. In this case, however, I'm glad to be proven wrong. The Social Network is that rare movie that's expertly written, acted, and shot without feeling the least bit like Oscar bait.

The first thing that stands out about this movie is the script. Characters and dialogue are both expertly written, and yet they both feel so natural that they hardly feel like they were written at all. Every character has a unique personality and intentions, and the main drama comes from the interplay of these ambitions. There are no obvious heroes and villains, just people with understandable flaws. It's rare that a movie can pull this off without some unsubtle social message about how people relate to each other. How accurate this movie is to the true story, I don't know or care, but for what it's worth The Social Network doesn't feel the least bit sensationalized. That in itself is an impressive feat considering how often movies try too hard to force a story shape onto real events.

For a movie that's 95% conversation, it never drags. If anything, director David Fincher paces it like another high-tension thriller. Aside from maybe Buried, no other movie this year has been able to accomplish so much with dialogue alone.

The only scene that feels like it doesn't belong is the rowing match set to Hall of the Mountain King. For a film that so expertly avoids cliches and fake drama, it's odd to see a scene that looks like something out of a Gatorade commercial. Another thing I don't like is that some side-plots feel like they're left hanging somewhat toward the end. Like I've said in my Dark Knight review, I could nitpick for hours if I wanted to, but when the movie gets so much right, what's the point?

The visuals are impressive, especially in the first half that centers around the Harvard campus. Out of countless movies to use the campus, this feels like the one to bring it out to its full visual potential. It's nothing worthy of a best cinematography award, but worth admiring nonetheless. The score by Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross is infectious yet tasteful, and this is coming from someone who's never gotten into Reznor's music.

And what impressed me possibly the most is the ending, which reinterprets the movie as a character study about Zuckerberg's self-discovery. It comes naturally yet it's such a revelation that it almost feels like a plot twist. And I have to give respect to Jesse Eisenberg for giving such an impressive performance. Again, knowing close to nothing abut the real Mark Zuckerberg, i'll leave that aspect for other people to judge. Eisenberg plays Zuckerberg as an aloof genius who's easy to hate and admire all at once. He's a complex person to say the least, always thinking two steps ahead of the surrounding world yet believably confused about about the choices he's made despite a cold exterior. As the movie sums him up in the end, "You're not an asshole, Mark. You just try so hard to be."

The supporting cast, which includes Rooney Mara, James Garfield and Justin Timberlake, is also very solid. Timberlake especially, whom I've had every reason to underestimate until now. It certainly helps that they all have such a strong script to work with, as it really feels like even the smallest roles have some personality in them.

In short, The Social Network is an easy movie to love, both as art and as entertainment. Minor gripes aside (because what good would a critic be without them?) this isn't my personal choice for the year's best picture, but I could hardly complain if it won.

Score:

The Green Hornet (Greg)

The popular TV, comic book, and radio series The Green Hornet makes its way to one more medium, and the result is equal parts superhero parody and bromantic comedy. The story follows Britt Reid (Seth Rogen,) a slacker and heir to his father's media empire, and Kato (Jay Chou,) an expert mechanic with a black belt in kicking ass. After a night of debauchery together accidentally turns them into heroes, they decide to use their talents (well, Kato's talents, Reid's money) to fight crime, with Reid taking on the persona of The Green Hornet. The two make an effective team with Reid's undeserved cockiness perfectly balanced by Kato's stoic but deadly nature. The dynamic reminds me a bit of Big Trouble in Little China, which I highly recommend for any fans of this movie.

The scenes that feature Rogen and Chou together are highlights of the movie, especially when Kato gets to show off his martial arts skills or their awesome car is involved. And the casual rivalry between the two is surprisingly funny and never feels fake, even if we've seen it in countless action-comedies before. One scene towards the middle in which the two leads turn on each other made me laugh louder than anything else. There's a disappointing number of jokes that don't fully deliver and feel even more ad-libbed that some of Rogen's other comedies, but it would be a huge stretch to call The Green Hornet unfunny.

Christoph Waltz seems miscast as the criminal overlord Chudnofsky. I think he's trying to channel what made him great in Inglourious Basterds by hiding his destructive capability behind a casual and sometimes comical demeanor. But in this case he doesn't come off as scary or funny. And I can't blame him because the script rarely gives him anything interesting to say or do. In other words, he's like Scar in the second half of The Lion King. Instead of seeing the treachery and cunning that got him where he is, we see him whine and complain as his empire falls apart around him and only occasionally do anything violent.

James Fraco makes a memorable appearance in the beginning of the movie as a minor villain with the right blend of suave and sleazy and some of the movie's best one-liners. After that scene I'm convinced that his character would be a far more fitting antagonist for a lightheardtead action-comedy and a better foil for Rogen's Green Hornet.

Cameron Diaz feels out of place as the love interest that sets our two heroes against each other, and for the most part she seems to be phoning in her performance. Even if she isn't a first-rate actress, I'm used to her performances being breezy, charismatic and fun. Again, I don't know whether to blame her or the bland role she's given, but the scenes with her character seem to drag the most.

At its best, The Green Hornet has great fight scenes, cool car chases, better than average buddy comedy, and a fist-pumping soundtrack. But for the other half of its running time the movie's stuck in neutral going nowhere in particular and wasting opportunities for better jokes and stronger drama. I wouldn't quite call The Green Hornet a disappointment, but it's obvious that this isn't the best they could have done with the talent and  source material involved. If this movie has any killer flaw, though, it's that that the superhero myth has been deconstructed in funnier (Defendor, Mystery Men) ballsier (Kick-Ass) and more clever (Watchmen, The Incredibles) ways before.

Score:

Crash (Day 7, in dedication to Dr. King)

Over the course of this year, there will be moments when my reviews take longer because of personal matters and outside efforts. But at other times, it will be because of what the film I am attempting to examine entails. This one, in particular, is one that I vaguely remembered seeing before and somehow felt uneasy about seeing again. Within 10 minutes of starting this film, I remembered why. It took me three days to get myself to watch this, another two to write this review, and I am still not sure what to say. But keeping Dr. King in mind…well, to say they “crashed” into me is a cheesy pun at best, but the description fits well. Here goes…

DAY 7: CRASH

In all honesty, the best way I can attempt to describe this film is to say that it could also be titled “Racism Actually”. It follows about 8-10 storylines in post-9/11 Los Angeles (depending on how you count) over the course of 36 hours, taking an outside approach to help watchers learn how their lives merged and clashed in a way that eventually led to murder. You get a surprising diversity in situations laid out here, ranging from a District Attorney and his abrasive wife getting carjacked (Brendan Fraser and Sandra Bullock) to a rookie cop struggling with his partner’s discriminatory behavior (Ryan Phillipe and Matt Dillon) to a Buddhist African-American television director dealing with the clash between the discrimination he faces and the beliefs that dictate his response to it (Larenz Tate and Chris “Ludacris” Bridges…yes, the rapper). Stereotypes and stereotype-seeking attitudes are present in every scene of this film, demonstrating in quite a loud fashion how their tendency to group other people interferes with their everyday lives – and why they are so hesitant in their attempts to confront it.

Even with a fine-toothed comb, I really cannot pick out a bad performance that was in this film. Everyone does the job the script asks of them, for better or for worse, and they do deliver anytime a particular scene demands a particularly potent emotion from them. We get angry, we get defensive, and we sure as hell hate being told our subjective worldviews are tainted – or our backgrounds “cookie-cutter” in terms of their racial, sexual, or ethnic elements. So if the actors’ reactions to these emotional events greatly favored subtlety, maybe it would have been more realistic…but it probably would not get the point across as effectively to the audience. Their outer expressions match our inner ones, a fitting mirror to our ideological confusions. In addition, the way this film was edited and shot perfectly fits the tone of the movie, almost as if director Paul Haggis had a painting previously sketched out for the amount of light and darkness he wanted in every new reflection of the City of Angels. To say it consistently helps establish and maintain the proper mood, in terms of highlighting the screenplay's clever twists and turns, is a major, major understatement.

That being said, there are two major problems that really do hinder this film's impact in my eyes – which, like the film’s plotlines, are completely intertwined. The first one involves the length of the film, 112 minutes including the credit crawl. At the very, very minimum, there are at least eight different mini-tales we are being exposed to. That gives us, at most, about 15 minutes with each distinct set of characters – maybe notch it up to about 20-25 if you account for the characters overlapping onscreen. What this means is that you barely have enough time to establish each individual, display their racist tendencies, and briefly give an alternate explanation for why they are that way. Usually it is along the lines of either “painful event with family” or “inner character flaw”, but it does not always make the characters feel complex enough to seem fully…well, human. At the very least, some of them seem two-dimensional, merely distinct in the “here’s racist one, here’s racist two” sort of way. It would not come across this way to me if the characters’ collective nuances were more subtle; but by necessity to the script’s intentions (problem number 2, by the way), the way they are initially presented is very extreme. They scream racial slurs to others’ faces, they openly express skepticism towards the idea of racial coexistence, you get the idea. So when you finally start to see a little more depth to them, you aren’t given enough time to dive too deeply; and thus, the shift in tone towards the end of the film (from characters being unlikeable to sympathetic) feels rushed and unnatural.

So does this feel like a Best Picture Oscar film to me? Well...in terms of execution, not really - even though it is still a very good film. But in the end, it would be cheap for me to say that these flaws are why I did not want to watch this film. Admittedly, I did not want to be confronted by the message this film DOES manage to deliver. In our current technologically-speared world, with communication and exposure to other views at an all-time high, you would expect differences to feel smaller in importance. But they don’t…if anything, as we are increasingly aware of how tiny our individual views are, in comparison with how many ways of thinking exist, it makes us desperate to cling to those we can identify with…

Maybe a personal story could help make my point more understandable, one that involves my freshman year in college back in 2006. Every time a new set of freshmen (and freshwomen) arrives at Union College, every extracurricular organization does what they can to encourage them to join their efforts. Coming from a Catholic upbringing and high school, I was eager to check out the Vatican-heeding collective and what they had to offer. They came across as very friendly and at first, I could identify with them. But in the room, there were several tables covered in sign-ups sheets – for everything from politics to abortion to preparation for Lent later in the year. And all I could think was, “Why does me following Christ as a Catholic need to entail all these man-made views too? I thought faith was the important thing. Is my “Catholic” the same as theirs?” I ended up leaving the info session, and decided that day I could not be a Catholic anymore…and it is an inner conflict I still feel today, and one that made me wonder at times if it might just be easier to live what I was raised on.

But you know something? The turning point was when I was told (by a Hindu, no less) that one key to inner peace is “realizing it is an individual journey”. I did not understand the statement at the time. After a while, as humbling as it is for me, I think I am starting to grasp its meaning, and in turn, what Crash is focused on saying. At a certain point, as a necessary part of maturing, we each are forced to learn that nobody can have the exact same views or background as us, no matter where we come from – and at that point, stereotypes that others use can really hurt, because we are uncertain enough already in our stumbling efforts. But maybe part of finding that peace can come from remembering that everybody goes through that process. We all have inner pains, we all feel like others may have it easier at times, and we all have been tempted to attack the world around us in response to feeling attacked by life. And hey, it may seem easier to use a characteristic like race or ethnicity (for others and maybe even for ourselves) as a shield in those weaker moments, against anything different or unfamiliar. But let’s face it: we just can’t do that anymore, not in today’s age of instanteaneous exposure and informational overload, and trying to do so will just lead to more collisions like the ones that bookend this film.

What makes me grateful for Dr. King and his work is that he made it feel possible that the shields could be put down, that our global society could learn to make common traits our chief focus and our different characteristics only secondary – something to be celebrated in pursuit of a larger worldwide path. I may not be “Catholic” in my journey anymore, but I warmly welcome anyone Catholic, white, black, gay, white, bisexual, trisexual…well, anyone in general to join me. It may not be perfect, but if you welcome me as I am (and as I am becoming) too, maybe a few negative collisions can be averted that way.

Score:

TOMORROW (DAY 8): SHERLOCK HOLMES, 1922 VERSION

Apocalypse Now, featuring a mini-review of Dear Zachary (Day 6)

If you want to call me a semi-hippie, that is fine; but in all honesty, diving into dark stories (especially war-related ones) is not exactly my forte. If a fire hydrant shot out water on a street corner, you might notice me running underneath like it was a sprinkler on metal-enhancing steroids…whereas makers of a film like Apocalypse Now might wonder how to hone its water as splash-laden projectiles. Put simply, I am a bit out of my element here, which is largely why this film took me so long to view and understand. But with the help of a certain documentary, one that I absolutely feel compelled to recommend, maybe a semi-cohesive analysis can be produced.

DAY 6: APOCALYPSE NOW (including a mini-review for “DEAR ZACHARY”)

Where to begin with what this film delivers? Well, the protagonist in the film was eager to cut the BS and learn his mission at the beginning, so let’s follow suit. This is actually one of the most creative adaptations of a novel I have ever seen, modernizing Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness and reworking it to suit the Vietnam War circa 1970. Immediately we are introduced to Capt. Benjamin Willard (Martin Sheen), a special operations officer who is considerably seasoned and highly effective in his line of work…and for likely that same reason, struggled to return to normal Stateside life. So in a return to duty in Saigon, he is assigned a mission that does not exist, to take out a believed-to-be-rogue Special Forces officer in the Cambodian jungle named Colonel Walter Kurtz (Marlon Brando). Why Kurtz is to be killed with “extreme prejudice”, considering his successes and decorated background, Willard is not sure, but he takes the job anyway.

Carried by the Navy Patrol boat identified as “Erebus”, a.k.a. “PBR Street Gang” on radio, Willard meets a variety of characters who respond to the war differently. Some soldiers come across as figures you normally would not expect to be war-hungry (such as famed surfer Lance Johnson, played by Sam Bottoms), some still come across as childlike (Tyrone “Mr. Clean” Miller, played by Laurence Fishburne in a way that comes across as “Morpheus before he found his swagger”), and a few who simply forget why they came to fight at all. Every effort to develop a connection to their homeland, from riding waves to Playboy Bunnies, seems hollow and makes the soldiers begin to feel the same way. Eventually, Willard is increasingly filled with the desire to encounter Kurtz as he learns more about him. The script really works well in gradually (through Sheen’s narration) letting the audience learn more about Kurtz’s history…even as Willard start to feel a connection to him, while peppering in enough grittiness and brutality to leave audiences battle-shocked for weeks. And that is before the final hour inside Cambodia, which pulls no punches and would absolutely not pass Hollywood censors today without an R rating or higher. The less I say about how Willard and Kurtz eventually meet, the better; but I can tell those of you who read Conrad’s book that this adaptation stays true to the original text.

Since I want to focus more on the bigger message (and why I have a second film mentioned here), let’s just get the simple weaknesses and strengths of the film out of the way first. In all honesty, I sometimes found the behavior of the ensemble cast a little “hammy”, as if they were trying to express their emotional states in such an extreme environment by merely amplifying their characters’ normal personalities. While I have been told this was normal in older war films, it is not very realistic (based on what I have been told by family in the military) and it threw me out a couple otherwise-great scenes. Also, I have never been in a combat setting like Vietnam, but…there seemed to be a huge lack of communication and discipline that was almost universal among the soldiers. Sometimes it seemed like Sheen was the only military-minded character on screen….was that a normal by-product of that war? I’d expect a couple soldiers or leaders to be lax or mentally unstable, but this was ridiculous.

But thank Heavens, the three most important elements were near-perfect. First off, the two main characters in this film were fantastic in their roles. Martin Sheen recalls a bygone era of true acting, where a performer believed he (or she) could use body language and subtlety to say just as much when not saying a word. His tone and mannerisms seem like a great representation of a soldier who hates war but can no longer function anywhere else, and any talent or charisma his sons picked up was largely hereditary. Marlon Brando, meanwhile, proves as General Kurtz that he can play subdued as well as imposing, while also demonstrating that you don’t need much time on screen to steal the spotlight. Meanwhile, in terms of both scenery and combat displayed, director Francis Ford Coppola did everything he could to help audiences comprehend and eventually despise what war is really about. Light and shadow are used brilliantly and consistently throughout the film, reflecting what changes Kurtz has undergone and what Willard is tempted to fall into; and anytime you can create a scene featuring severed heads and it doesn’t feel like overkill, you know a sense of brutality has been well-delivered.

And now, the big picture…oh boy…in all honesty, it was really hard for me to figure out what this film was trying to say as I was watching it. Did it involve the hypocrisy of the US calling natives “savage”, even as Lt. Col. “Napalm in the Morning” Kilgore (Robert Duvall, very deep impact for only having 15-20 minutes on screen) coordinated a brutal bombing of a village…for the sake of the surfing waves there? Maybe a little, but its message seemed to be deeper than that. Was it about the potential for savagery lying dormant inside of every man, or the implications of going home either with death or victory? Again, this is pretty clear in the battle scenes even before we get to Kurtz. The mysterious Colonel has to be the key to this, since the film build up to his being revealed…so maybe it is involves the “diamond-bullet” moment that Kurtz claims affected his perception of the way the Vietnam War was working. This is where the film Dear Zachary comes into play; bear with me for one minute.

Dear Zachary: A Letter to a Son about his Father involves director Kurt Kuenne’s effort to eulogize his deceased best friend Andrew Bagby, by travelling around the country (actually, across several countries) to talk with friends and gather photos and video that can paint a full picture of the wonderful life he lived. The reasons for this become apparent in the film, and I would be a disgrace as a critic if I gave away anything beyond what is revealed in the title. (It is on instant Netflix now; please see it whenever you can and DO NOT read any spoilers or summaries of the film. Trust me.) What I can say is that it is impeccably ruthless in how straightforward and raw its depiction of humanity is. Just as Apocalypse Now emphasizes the idea that good does not always prevail inside a man, Dear Zachary shows that it does not always prevail in how society chooses to act…even with the highest stakes.

I guess my point is that, for me, Apocalypse presents a notion that seems almost contradictory at first: if humans approached war without a sense of humanity or moral judgment, then they would get through wars much more quickly. Under this reasoning, it may seem very tempting to focus more on results than how your character may be perceived, on ensuring success instead of risking failure. But the price of choosing such a road is that morality no longer serves as your compass, only survival. Thus, when exposed to true evil and immorality, Apocalypse and Zachary leave audiences with a choice of their own. I won’t say which people in which film choose which path, but I will say that if you have 4 hours, this is a life-affirming double feature that I encourage every reader to undertake (see Apocalypse Now first). But then again, whether you accept my humble opinion is a decision to make as well.

Score for Apocalypse Now:

Score for Dear Zachary:

TOMORROW (DAY 7): CRASH

True Grit - Original vs. Remake (Greg)

This is the beginning of a segment I hope to keep running, in which I pit recent releases against the works that inspired them. The remake of True Grit is a movie I've been looking forward to since I first heard about it, being a fan of most of the Coen Brothers' work and the original movie with John  Wayne. Since I haven't read the book, I won't make any judgments about which is the better adaptation.

The scripts follow essentially the same story. When Mattie Ross' father is betrayed and killed by his partner Tom Chaney, the young girl hires gritty U.S. Marshall Ruben "Rooster" Cogburn to track down Chaney and avenge her father's death. The two make an unsteady alliance with Texas ranger LaBoeuf and end up facing off not only against Chaney  but a criminal called Lucky Ned and his gang.

The remake sticks closely to the original for the most part but makes some changes that usually pay off. Beginning the movie in the aftermath of the father's death rather than before makes for a stronger opening, especially since the murder wasn't particularly compelling in the original film. The only thing the Coen brothers do to their disadvantage is try to force unusual bits of humor and satire into the script that often clash with the mood of the film.

The remake obviously looks better in terms of sets, costumes, and cinematography, but that's a given with the advantage of forty years and a bigger budget. That's not to say that the original looks bad, but it certainly feels dated compared to modern westerns, or even Leone's westerns. The remake takes some obvious visual cues from the original, which is a certain kind of praise in itself, but the Coen Brothers know how to expand and improve on the original visually. Both films are fairly sparse on music, but what little music they do feature is enjoyable and fits the atmosphere of the movies well.

The action is well done in both movies. Again the remake has the obvious advantage of time and budget but the original holds its own. If nothing else, John Wayne knows how to put on a compelling gunfight.

But the heart of both movies is the performances, and in that respect neither disappoints. Both Matt Damon and Glen Campbell are likable as LaBoeuf, with neither giving an obviously better performance than the other.

Mattie Ross, on the other hand, is a much easier comparison. Kim Darby certainly does justice to her role, playing a strong and likable heroine. She's convincingly tough, sharp-witted, and innocent without ever being naive, providing a good heart to a gritty tale. All of this, however, only serves as context when I say that Hailee Steinfeld absolutely blows her away. Steinfeld takes everything that works about Darby's performance and makes her character bolder, more clever, and at the same time more realistic. She sells her anguish and desire for revenge much more convincingly than Darby does. As far as memorable heroines are concerned, Steinfeld's Mattie Ross is almost in the same league as Ellen Ripley in Alien.

And now for the leading man. John Wayne and Jeff Bridges both do excellent jobs as the merciless U.S. Marshall Rooster Cogburn. Both play hardened, dissatisfied drunks with a hint of heart buried beneath a harsh exterior. The key difference is that that Bridges shows more grit, while Wayne shows more heart. And While Jeff Bridges adds more nuance to his character and the script gives him slightly more to work with, John Wayne is simply more likable in easily one of the best performances of his career.

The biggest drawback to Bridges' performance is his character's accent, which makes him sound nearly unintelligible. He mumbles through most of his lines, forcing the viewer to piece together whichever words they understand and hope they get the gist of his dialogue. This trend only gets worse when LaBoeuf loses part of his tongue in a gunfight, making much of the dialogue between the two characters a chore to understand. If Bridges has any other weakness, it's that he exaggerates his character's faults while Wayne implies and internalizes them.

So all things considered, both films are more than worthwhile and come very close to being genre landmarks. If I had to give a tiny edge to one over the other, it would be the remake, primarily for such an excellent performance by by Haille Steinfeld.

Score for both movies:

My Cousin Vinny (Day 5)

The next film is a comedy all about how accidental encounters, simple misunderstandings and tear-your hair-out coincidences can build up in the worst possible way. You know, like wanting to catch up on blog posts on the same weekend that a 7-9 team defeats the defending Super Bowl champs and the local Jets team defeats Manning in a revenge game as time expires. Yeah, NFL football is huge in my family, requiring a Farmville-like level of attention in order to not look utterly ignorant…And admittedly, being from a true Italian family, there were other convenient reasons for the delay in the next post.

DAY 5: MY COUSIN VINNY

To be quite frank, I am not sure how to review this film. Part of it is that I am embarrassed by how similar watching this film was to my encounter with Shawshank, in that I refused to watch it for a long time (You know where a bunch of people are a fan of something and you naturally feel compelled to be suspicious…e.g. snootily skeptical…about its worth in a begrudging-hipster sort of way? Anyone who has ever read Armond White knows exactly what I am talking about.), only for it to end up as one of my favorite films once I got (as my uncle would put it) my figurative head out of my ass and gave it a chance. And the other factor? Well…let’s just say that my family exhibits a great deal of the Italian-American macho mannerisms exhibited by Vinny and Company (I will get to that later), and as I try to write this, I find myself subconsciously comparing my family’s behavior to the film itself. In other words, on a personal level, it’s an awkward story for me to analyze (and if I give anything other than universal praise, I’ll never hear the end of it). None of this should be counted as a detriment to the film.

OK, enough rambling, here is the plot in vague tones, since a huge amount of the humor involves how the main characters get from Point A to Point B. Two New Yorkers, Stan Rothenstein (Mitchell Whitfield) and Bill Gambini (Ralph Macchio, who between this and Karate Kid, built a career out of playing the hapless victim of life’s misfortunes), decide to drive to UCLA for their next term of college and pass through Beechum County, Alabama. By chance, bad timing puts them in a seriously bad spot, when they grab food at a local convenience store and end up leaving with an arrest for murder. Unlike Shawshank, I am not spoiling anything in saying that the audience knows their innocence from the start; the fun is seeing how they are able to get out of such a situation. With the defense that “he’s family” (which, realistically, seems like a bit of a stretch), Bill decides that his cousin Vinny (Joe Pesci) could be their defense lawyer. So with his lovely-but-spunky fiancée Mona Lisa Vito (Marisa Tomei), Vinny comes down and…proceeds to screw up at every possible turn, completely unfamiliar with the Southern customs and anti-“big mouth” mannerisms necessary for Alabama court room etiquette (this…is a bit more likely). The fact that it is seen as even remotely possible (e.g. realistic in any sense) that Vinny could win the case by movie’s end is a miracle in screenwriting lore. Which you will hopefully notice between the repeated pain of your ribs from laughing so hard.

With this being said, two questions must be asked of this film in particular: Does the audience learn how much of a culture shock a New Yorker would face coming down there, and do the characters (on both ends) handle such awkwardness in a manner that makes this comedy serve its original purpose – namely, to laugh at its absurdity? On both counts, the verdict is a yes. At every turn between the checkpoints of the trial itself, the local population and environment are effectively used to show how out of his element Vinny is. Sometimes it only takes one time for a joke to hit home (Anyone want grits after this? Anyone at all? …I thought not.), and other times a joke is recycled several times over the course of the film (the arc regarding being able to sleep is actually quite well-delivered). But to writer Dale Launer’s credit, most of these little scenes play a big role in how the case unfolds and they almost always catches you off-guard. And especially in the courtroom, director Jonathan Lynn does a pretty good job (most of the time) in shooting said scenes in a way that lets us focus on what is being argued and not how it’s being shot. In other words, Michael Bay would NEVER be able to pull this off.

Their collective jobs here, however, are to bring out the best in the actors, because for all its pratfalls and fantastic dialogue, the bulk of the film hinges on how their respective characters come across…thank God Italians are not shamed. Despite the fact that Joe Pesci has played wanna-piece-of-me confronters like Vinny roughly, say, 573 times in his career, it is nice to see him gradually come to the realization that such an attitude alone will not help him here. In the couple scenes where he shows a little macho-laced vulnerability and (justifiably felt) insecurity, it works…eh, pretty well, which only makes his in-your-face moments in court all the more enjoyable. This added dimension is largely sparked by the presence of Marisa Tomei, who hits her role – as the fiancée who is subtly sweet and supportive, but openly won’t take any “horsepucky” – out of the ballpark. The chemistry between the two is thick as marinara sauce, and it really feel like the two enjoy bringing the best out of each other…which, by the way, is exactly why I do not mind her winning an Oscar for this film. And for those of you who think this sort of attitude would never work in a courtroom or family setting? I have experienced these sorts of “Italian time bomb” personalities all my life, and…yeah, they’re accurate.

In all honesty, I am not the sort who ever developed the same sort of New Yorker mannerisms that my family did, so I can perfectly understand if a film chock full of ‘em may turn some people off. And as for some of the legal inconsistencies in the film…I’ll refrain from comment. (All I will say is that in order to avoid mistrials, countersuits and terrible press in this day and age, no suspect would ever, ever, EVER be as poorly informed as the unlucky college students are in this situation, and it throws you out of the film a little.) But what’s a little exaggeration in a film like this anyway? I suppose it helps that those playing the Alabama locals, in particular the stern-but-fair Judge Chamberlain Haller (Fred Gwynne, who I mistook for a real Southern judge at times), hold their own and don’t come across as backwoods pushovers. And regarding the film as a whole, it’s got a bunch of memorable quotes, the originality of the script shines through, and…well, in all honesty, when I first saw Vinny handle this case on DVD, I rewatched the last 15 minutes three times in a row. I guess as the audience “jury”, he swayed me.

Score:

TOMORROW (DAY 6): APOCALYPSE NOW

Footloose (Day 4)

OK, first extensive weekend of film watching. Thank God my Steelers have until seven days from now to prepare….and that snow is starting to make mere retrieval of mail an act of practical senselessness. You’ll get icicles on your inner thyroid before you can scrape the frost off your mailbox, and I am only slightly exaggerating. I miss Hawaii, so let’s warm up with a dance film, shall we?

DAY 4: FOOTLOOSE

Oh jeez, snow fell at a rate of 2 inches per hour…good Lord…) Anyway, if you didn’t know any better, you’d say the Western town of Beaumont had a chill in the air, they move around so stiffly. But it is actually a coldness in their hearts that exists…Oh God, this is getting ridiculous…Think of a warm place…warm place…OK, ready now.

Footloose is actually a story I have encountered, in theatres and on video, several times over the past half decade, and it certainly exemplifies the whole outsider-changes-things-for-the better, cementing-role-as-teenage-girl-heartthrob, High-School-Musical-precedent formula we see about five or six times a year advertised in the big Multiplex today. This ancient version of that tale involves a Chicago kid named Ren McCormack (Kevin Bacon), who is moving with his mother to live with his relatives in Bible Belt Town, USA. I am not exaggerating here, since it is the sort of place where “church probation” is considered a major punishment to fear. And under this system, sparked by a tragic accident and encouraged by tough pastor Reverend Shaw Moore (John Lithgow), a ban on dancing is alive and not-so-well in town. With the encouragement of rhythm-inept best friend Willard (Christopher Penn…yes, Sean’s brother) and always curious about the mixed signals of Rev. Moore’s daughter Ariel (very…erm, distracting Lori Singer), Ren gets over his culture shock and finds himself an ambassador of a movement that can heal more people than he ever thought possible.

(*pulls up another blanket* OK, it is getting colder tonight, I am gonna make this quick.)

This is a weird one for me to review, because I do have a problem with this film – one that has very little to do with the ingredients the film contains. The acting works well enough and presents a gritty enough tone to seem realistic. Kevin Bacon displays enough subtlety, and raw enthusiasm for his cause, that makes his breakout fame following this film’s release well-deserved (even if someone else did do those warehouse dance moves). John Lithgow serves as a great spiritual (and I guess legal, in a theocratic sort of way) foe for Ren, using his full body language to display his full belief in his sermons’ teachings and wavering mannerisms (watch his eyes during some of the quieter scenes) to point out his uneasiness everywhere else. Oh, and Sarah Jessica Parker looks better in this, as Ariel’s friend Rusty, than she ever did as Carrie Bradshaw, I don’t care what anyone else says.

The songs also come across as catchy and effective in their synthesized, ‘80s-retro sort of way, especially tunes like “I’m Free” and the theme song by Kenny Loggins that seals his place in music history – despite him disappearing from the pop scene within a few years (and their playing the song THREE TIMES in the film!). The scenes showcase a great deal of energy, the story takes good turns, we get multiple kinds of villain types in the film…so what’s the problem? The story, simply put, tries to dip into too many areas and feels shallow in all of them. Roger Ebert, in his review (01/01/1984), points to three things that Footloose tries to do (albeit in a harsh manner): present a conflict occurring in town, introduce flashy teenage characters, and sometimes serve as a music video. I don’t have an issue with any of these elements, and sometimes they intersect quite well. But I point to another group of three:

1) Outsider-against-norm: Ren (with help of other flashy teens) attempts to find his place in a new environment, by bringing in something he naturally connects with (namely, dance) for the rest of the town to share.

2) Coping-with-loss: Reverend Moore and family attempt to struggle with a painful past, in order to reconnect with each other in the future.

3) Orwell’s 1984 for Kids: Demonstrate the importance of individualism and anti-censorship, even when such expression is discouraged (and vigilantly enforced) under religious or moral guise.

It is difficult for me to get into this without being spoiler-heavy, although I think many could piece this together by watching the trailer on Youtube. But my big problem is NOT in presenting all these storylines but in the varying emotional tones they each represent. Scenario 1 presents Ren as the underdog and makes the town (and Reverend Moore) seem like a hymn-crooning villain needing defeat…but so much is made of the lewdness and violence exhibited by some of the characters that it almost makes Rev. Moore’s warnings about corruption seem somewhat reasonable. Scenario 2 tries to show how such actions are seeded in pain, not through an innate desire for Main Street tyranny…but even when we find out the Moore family’s connection to the law against dancing, it is not consistently given the dramatic weight needed to make us sympathize with them all (in other words, play “sad and grieving” convincingly, Lori Singer!!!!). And as for the 1984-esque sense of being watched and blocking of censored material…well, it looked like the townsfolk had no trouble getting tapes when necessary, and with Internet getting Slayer and Tupac on any computer in seconds, this above all else really makes the film seem dated.

All this wouldn’t seem so disjointed if more time was given to flesh everything out, but I swear, about 25% of this movie consists of songs and dance montages – significantly undermining director Herbert Ross’ chances to move the story forward. This is why I strongly prefer the Footloose tale in the musical theatre forum, since it allows the characters to sing those same songs from the original film (and, in turn, use them to supplement their own development as characters). Plus, without such insights, it is hard to imagine such character turns as Sarah Jessica Parker looking for the nearest man to move around with on the dance floor…or Kevin Bacon taking on five dudes in a fight….you know what? Never mind, comment retracted.

Put simply, this is a classic case of a nostalgic film, one that clearly has flaws in consistency and usage of time…but that also has a great deal of charm and supplies a great deal of memorable scenes and songs that will stick with you even after your broken, aged hips prevent you from dancing anymore. And I do like that it has a unique message that does combine all three plotlines: in the end, even in pain or unfamiliarity or oppression, the choice to do what’s right is something we each are entitled and obligated to hold onto. No excuses, no copouts, just move forward. Next step for me? More blankets.

(Overall Score: 7/10, 6/10 if you are born after the 1980s.)

TOMORROW (DAY 5): MY COUSIN VINNY