The London of Sweeney Todd is a London I never wish to know: a gray, smoggy, corrupt hive of decadence and deprivation. It is a London as black as the heart of Benjamin Barker, the scorned barber sent to prison on a trumped up charge at the hands of the pious, yet evil Judge Turpin. Escaped and returned, Barker, a.k.a Todd, plans to exact his revenge on Turpin and all of London.
Tim Burton's imagining of the hit Broadway musical is his darkest work to date, and also one of his best. Harnessing the immense powers of his muses Johnny Depp and Helena Bonham Carter, he has blended the macabre with the blackly comic into a work of extreme gothic vision, a true work of art. Reigning in his usual artistic flair, he has instead chosen to shape the talents of his two actors and the supreme source material into an angry portrait of love and revenge.
Depp as Sweeney, with crazed hair and ghostly complexion does fine work (though try to ignore his ridiculous accent) as the spiteful demon barber who returns to Fleet Street to cut the throat of Judge Turpin (Alan Rickman), the man who has taken Sweeney's daughter as his ward, and whom he believes killed his beautiful wife, Lucy. Setting up a shop above Mrs. Lovett's pie shop, he practices his new, bloody art on the unsuspecting patrons of the city with the help of the other tenant, Mrs. Lovett (Bonham Carter). The two join in a grisly partnership which puts into perspective the old adage "you are what you eat".
It was an ambitious undertaking by Burton to do a musical, especially one normally thought of as a "singer's" musical, but he succeeded exceptionally. Depp has interviewed saying that before his acting career he had intentions of singing for a band, but his voice is by no means something one would put on a stage. Nor is Bonham Carter's, who had had no vocal training prior to this film. However, both of them do their own singing to great effect, taking the theatricality out of the material.
Indeed, I don't believe that anyone but possibly Jayne Wisener who plays Sweeney's daughter, Johanna, would have had much experience in musical theatre, but that gritty realism of their voices does nothing but add to Burton's dark vision of the poor streets of 19th-century London, with all of its Victor Hugo images of poverty and prostitution. Mrs. Lovett explains "times is hard" and certainly that seems to be so.
The complexities of the story are wonderful in all of their gruesomeness, giving a complete, abominable picture of human nature. People deal in misdeeds because they love, they hate, or they are simply out for a quick shilling. The material is justly lauded so the story was nothing to be uncertain about. What was in question was Burton's ability to translate it to the big screen, and to my great relief it is a masterful movie musical.
The artistry of the film is fantastic, as expected. Colleen Atwood's costumes and Dante Ferretti's award-winning art direction is superb. There is a obscene amount of tomato soup-looking blood, but thankfully it helps to lessen what would be almost too horrible were it realistic. It is a nightmare vision, and beautiful to behold.
The work of all actors is great, including a supporting cast of Rickman, Timothy Spall, and a hilarious Sacha Baron Cohen. Bonham Carter steals the show for me, though, whose plays a woman whose love for Sweeney is so strong that it leads her to what I consider the most deplorable acts of the story, though her performance will lend her to being seen as a victim. Her facial expressions are a work of genius.
I would hate to spoil the film so I will end with an enthusiastic urging to you to watch this movie. For those of you who have never seen the musical it will be a rare treat from the campy song and dance musicals of late like "Chicago" and "Hairspray". And for those of you who, like myself, know and love the stage performance, it will be a new and compelling adaptation. Some purists may not like it for what it leaves out, but what it does center on is tremendous. I hope this will not be the last musical adaptation that Burton decides to undertake, and judging from its execution a horror film from him might not go amiss either.
3.5/4
Sunday, November 18, 2012
Thursday, November 15, 2012
Manhattan (1979)
All of the oddities and quirks of Woody Allen's work can't distract the fact that at its core what Allen creates is honest, poignant and often it seems effortless. Before he got bogged down with being the great Woody Allen he wrote and directed from the heart. "Manhattan", very much a continuation of his masterpiece, "Annie Hall", could very easily be an autobiographical piece judging from how earnestly it presents the conflicts of a man at a crossroad of life.
Directing himself once again in the lead role, Allen plays Issac, a forty-something writer who has quit his job, lost his wife to another woman, and has turned to dating a 17-year-old girl named Tracy (Oscar nominee Mariel Hemingway). Intellectually he knows it's a bit smarmy (possibly more than a bit) to be dating a girl less than half his age, but Tracy is beautiful and innocent, unlike his icy ex, Jill (Meryl Streep). Directionless, he turns to easy sex with a pretty young thing, and living vicariously through her, in a way.
Isaac soon falls for another, however, the mistress of his best friend. Diane Keaton is Mary, whom Isaac initially describes as a pseudo-intellectual, and indeed she is. Allen's work is often self-aware, and it's all too clear from his films, even dating to his recent "Midnight in Paris" that he can't stand those who flaunt their smarts. I suppose you could argue that he fell into that trap himself in his later life, but I would have to say that by then he deserved it. Here, though, it is simply wit, and razor sharp at that. But that's a digression. Isaac and Mary begin dating, but it becomes clear that they two of them are too afraid of commitment to be true to one another. We watch as they try to navigate through each of their considerable insecurities toward happiness.
This is a great movie in many respects. I found it a bit hard to identify with as I am only 21 and have never had a relationship that could have become love. I appreciated its ideas, though. This is a story about a collection of people who look for love in the wrong places, find it in spite of themselves and then choose to let it go. In many ways it is slightly devastating because all of them could be happy if they so chose, but this is a film by Allen, for Allen, and it doesn't seem to me that he believed in love for himself when he wrote the screenplay.
What we watch is set in front of a beautiful New York City backdrop. He titled the film after the great city for a reason, and that is because the true mistress is Manhattan herself. Shot in glorious black-and-white it references a time when the city should have always been filled with cigarette smoke and jazz. As uncertain as he is with love, Isaac also laments the loss of the values of a dying city. It is changing and not for the better. Isaac turns to the wrong women the same way the city turned to vice and garbage. How do we still find the beauty in a place like that?
This is a sweet and affecting film, and certainly one of his best. The laughs come easy and so do the tears. It's romantic without being sickly sweet, and it also takes the time to flirt with profundity. In the end--despite it being written, directed and starring Allen--it is hopeful about love. It has faith in the human capacity to heal and move on. It also acknowledges that we are fallible beings, but sometimes our instincts should not be ignored. It handles emotions with ups and downs, but fortunately it closes on a beautiful high.
4/4
Directing himself once again in the lead role, Allen plays Issac, a forty-something writer who has quit his job, lost his wife to another woman, and has turned to dating a 17-year-old girl named Tracy (Oscar nominee Mariel Hemingway). Intellectually he knows it's a bit smarmy (possibly more than a bit) to be dating a girl less than half his age, but Tracy is beautiful and innocent, unlike his icy ex, Jill (Meryl Streep). Directionless, he turns to easy sex with a pretty young thing, and living vicariously through her, in a way.
Isaac soon falls for another, however, the mistress of his best friend. Diane Keaton is Mary, whom Isaac initially describes as a pseudo-intellectual, and indeed she is. Allen's work is often self-aware, and it's all too clear from his films, even dating to his recent "Midnight in Paris" that he can't stand those who flaunt their smarts. I suppose you could argue that he fell into that trap himself in his later life, but I would have to say that by then he deserved it. Here, though, it is simply wit, and razor sharp at that. But that's a digression. Isaac and Mary begin dating, but it becomes clear that they two of them are too afraid of commitment to be true to one another. We watch as they try to navigate through each of their considerable insecurities toward happiness.
This is a great movie in many respects. I found it a bit hard to identify with as I am only 21 and have never had a relationship that could have become love. I appreciated its ideas, though. This is a story about a collection of people who look for love in the wrong places, find it in spite of themselves and then choose to let it go. In many ways it is slightly devastating because all of them could be happy if they so chose, but this is a film by Allen, for Allen, and it doesn't seem to me that he believed in love for himself when he wrote the screenplay.
What we watch is set in front of a beautiful New York City backdrop. He titled the film after the great city for a reason, and that is because the true mistress is Manhattan herself. Shot in glorious black-and-white it references a time when the city should have always been filled with cigarette smoke and jazz. As uncertain as he is with love, Isaac also laments the loss of the values of a dying city. It is changing and not for the better. Isaac turns to the wrong women the same way the city turned to vice and garbage. How do we still find the beauty in a place like that?
This is a sweet and affecting film, and certainly one of his best. The laughs come easy and so do the tears. It's romantic without being sickly sweet, and it also takes the time to flirt with profundity. In the end--despite it being written, directed and starring Allen--it is hopeful about love. It has faith in the human capacity to heal and move on. It also acknowledges that we are fallible beings, but sometimes our instincts should not be ignored. It handles emotions with ups and downs, but fortunately it closes on a beautiful high.
4/4
Monday, November 12, 2012
Labyrinth (1986)
If you ask me I will always tell you that I love films because imagination can take the place of logic and that should be perfectly acceptable. Often times I will like a film simply because it pushes the boundaries of film making instead of focusing on being a "good" movie. I suppose that if I shut off the nagging part of my brain that screams about the ridiculousness of the whole premise then I can see how I might actually have enjoyed "Labyrinth". At the moment, however, the nagging is simply too loud to be ignored.
Sarah (Jennifer Connelly) is a 15-year-old coping with the death of her mother and the remarriage of her father. She plays make-believe and her bedroom is a trove of stuffed animals and bedtime stories. I might have found her to be a rather disturbing girl if she weren't so pretty and didn't enunciate so heavily like a stage actress. Forced to babysit for her crabby infant brother, Toby, she summons the goblins from a fairy tale to come and take the boy away. When Jareth the Goblin King (David Bowie) actually does come and takes the baby, Sarah heads out to get her brother back.
Transported to a magical land somewhere in Britain I assume (considering the accents, the bad teeth and the rolling hills) Sarah must reach Jareth's castle within 13 hours, lest her brother be turned into a goblin himself. It's a simple setup for an adventure film in which Sarah faces many challenges navigating the mystical maze surrounding the castle, making friends and enemies along the way and discovering things about herself in the process.
This is a Jim Henson production and therefore it can be expected to have amazing puppetry, great sets and fun musical numbers, all of which is true. I was talking about imagination earlier, and this has no shortcomings in that department--at least outside of the script. There are lots of clever locations and sight gags used, not to mention several awesome songs by Bowie. He is really the prime reason for seeing the film. Who wouldn't be interested in a transvestite, pedophilic vampire who contact juggles?
I tried not to care about the plot really hard, but it's impossible when it's confusing and completely arbitrary. Was the whole adventure a dream? If so, Sarah thinks an awful lot of herself. If not, Jareth needs to learn how to pick up girls. Why did Jareth give her a time limit anyway? And if he is so powerful why not just send her back to the beginning of the labyrinth himself? Does it make logical sense that she would spend hours fighting Jareth's minions and then simply choose to be his lover? It doesn't work and it made me angry.
I did enjoy the messages of a troubled teen having to come to terms with adolescence, but that went by the wayside in the very last scene. In the end, though, this film is for children who aren't going to notice the idiocies of the whole thing. There is always something going on, it's occasionally funny and the messages about friendship and insecurity are easily identifiable. I would guess that this is the type of film which would garner cult status from people my age, but as this was the first time I saw it there was none of the childhood nostalgia to keep me from seeing that although it's brightly colored and has Bowie in tights, the whole premise is a bit too thin.
2/4
Sarah (Jennifer Connelly) is a 15-year-old coping with the death of her mother and the remarriage of her father. She plays make-believe and her bedroom is a trove of stuffed animals and bedtime stories. I might have found her to be a rather disturbing girl if she weren't so pretty and didn't enunciate so heavily like a stage actress. Forced to babysit for her crabby infant brother, Toby, she summons the goblins from a fairy tale to come and take the boy away. When Jareth the Goblin King (David Bowie) actually does come and takes the baby, Sarah heads out to get her brother back.
Transported to a magical land somewhere in Britain I assume (considering the accents, the bad teeth and the rolling hills) Sarah must reach Jareth's castle within 13 hours, lest her brother be turned into a goblin himself. It's a simple setup for an adventure film in which Sarah faces many challenges navigating the mystical maze surrounding the castle, making friends and enemies along the way and discovering things about herself in the process.
This is a Jim Henson production and therefore it can be expected to have amazing puppetry, great sets and fun musical numbers, all of which is true. I was talking about imagination earlier, and this has no shortcomings in that department--at least outside of the script. There are lots of clever locations and sight gags used, not to mention several awesome songs by Bowie. He is really the prime reason for seeing the film. Who wouldn't be interested in a transvestite, pedophilic vampire who contact juggles?
I tried not to care about the plot really hard, but it's impossible when it's confusing and completely arbitrary. Was the whole adventure a dream? If so, Sarah thinks an awful lot of herself. If not, Jareth needs to learn how to pick up girls. Why did Jareth give her a time limit anyway? And if he is so powerful why not just send her back to the beginning of the labyrinth himself? Does it make logical sense that she would spend hours fighting Jareth's minions and then simply choose to be his lover? It doesn't work and it made me angry.
I did enjoy the messages of a troubled teen having to come to terms with adolescence, but that went by the wayside in the very last scene. In the end, though, this film is for children who aren't going to notice the idiocies of the whole thing. There is always something going on, it's occasionally funny and the messages about friendship and insecurity are easily identifiable. I would guess that this is the type of film which would garner cult status from people my age, but as this was the first time I saw it there was none of the childhood nostalgia to keep me from seeing that although it's brightly colored and has Bowie in tights, the whole premise is a bit too thin.
2/4
Sunday, November 11, 2012
The Vanishing (1988)
Sociopath [soh-see-uh-path]
noun
A person with a psychopathic personality whose personality is antisocial, often criminal, and who lacks a sense of moral responsibility or social conscience.
On a balcony it would be normal for a man to entertain the idea of jumping off, possibly seriously harming himself. Of course he does not as his animal instincts instructs him to preserve his body. Perhaps it is simply predestination that he does not jump. But what if a person were to make the leap simply because he does not accept the idea that he was destined to remain stationary? This person is the sociopath, and Dutch director George Sluizer plants him as the central character of his terrifying character study.
On a holiday to France from Amsterdam, Saskia is kidnapped at a busy rest station. Her lover, Rex, goes on a hunt for the perpetrator that takes three years, all the while fueled by mysterious postcards from the kidnapper. After several failed encounters, the man finally decides to meet Rex face to face and explain why and how he pulled off his perfect crime.
The criminal is Raymond, a university professor, a husband, and a father of two. Although looking at his 80's, European style and imposing physique I might personally have had trouble starting a conversation with the man, he is a most unsuspecting person. His house is large and clean, his daughters are lovely. He is smart, well regarded, and although his family suspect he has a mistress, one would never imagine that he would be the type of person to drug a young woman in broad daylight and take her back to his isolated summer residence.
A period of three years is very long time and we get to share little of it with Raymond. The director simply allows us to imagine what his life was like on a day to day basis knowing that he did something heinous but an action not shown or described. However, we do get to spend a long and very uncomfortable hour and a half examining this seemingly normal man as he meticulously plans out his actions over the course of months, all shown through flashbacks.
I have a morbid curiosity of for what people will do in order to feel sexually gratified--I have even written a play about it And, indeed, this film reminded me very much of "Mod Girl" (almost uncomfortably so), though it obviously came out considerably before I wrote my play. But why this man does what he does is not for sex, at least not that we are told about. Instead, it is about a man who commits his crime simply because a crime is there to be committed. He is a boy standing over an anthill carrying a very large magnifying glass and the sun is blazing too hot for us to see what it really is that he's doing.
The film is slow, but usually very interesting. Rex's hunt for a girl long gone becomes dry, especially as he now has a very pretty girlfriend and yet only talks about Saskia. However, when the plot is about Raymond it is engrossing. The clues we pick up are startling and made me fidgety in my chair. Watching him employing different tactics to try to get unsuspecting girls into his car was deeply disturbing and made me immediately think of "Silence of the Lambs" which no doubt took considerable influence from this film.
The pace quickens in the third act, and seems to go from a three to a ten in a matter of minutes. It culminates in one the scariest, most shocking climaxes I have ever seen; it left me literally on the edge of my seat. Some will have trouble suffering a lot of talking and a slow, unnecessary setup, but good things come to those who wait. Perhaps it is a sign of our own sociopathy that we eagerly wait to the end to know what an insane man will do to a helpless girl, but I suppose I'm okay with that.
3/4
noun
A person with a psychopathic personality whose personality is antisocial, often criminal, and who lacks a sense of moral responsibility or social conscience.
On a balcony it would be normal for a man to entertain the idea of jumping off, possibly seriously harming himself. Of course he does not as his animal instincts instructs him to preserve his body. Perhaps it is simply predestination that he does not jump. But what if a person were to make the leap simply because he does not accept the idea that he was destined to remain stationary? This person is the sociopath, and Dutch director George Sluizer plants him as the central character of his terrifying character study.
On a holiday to France from Amsterdam, Saskia is kidnapped at a busy rest station. Her lover, Rex, goes on a hunt for the perpetrator that takes three years, all the while fueled by mysterious postcards from the kidnapper. After several failed encounters, the man finally decides to meet Rex face to face and explain why and how he pulled off his perfect crime.
The criminal is Raymond, a university professor, a husband, and a father of two. Although looking at his 80's, European style and imposing physique I might personally have had trouble starting a conversation with the man, he is a most unsuspecting person. His house is large and clean, his daughters are lovely. He is smart, well regarded, and although his family suspect he has a mistress, one would never imagine that he would be the type of person to drug a young woman in broad daylight and take her back to his isolated summer residence.
A period of three years is very long time and we get to share little of it with Raymond. The director simply allows us to imagine what his life was like on a day to day basis knowing that he did something heinous but an action not shown or described. However, we do get to spend a long and very uncomfortable hour and a half examining this seemingly normal man as he meticulously plans out his actions over the course of months, all shown through flashbacks.
I have a morbid curiosity of for what people will do in order to feel sexually gratified--I have even written a play about it And, indeed, this film reminded me very much of "Mod Girl" (almost uncomfortably so), though it obviously came out considerably before I wrote my play. But why this man does what he does is not for sex, at least not that we are told about. Instead, it is about a man who commits his crime simply because a crime is there to be committed. He is a boy standing over an anthill carrying a very large magnifying glass and the sun is blazing too hot for us to see what it really is that he's doing.
The film is slow, but usually very interesting. Rex's hunt for a girl long gone becomes dry, especially as he now has a very pretty girlfriend and yet only talks about Saskia. However, when the plot is about Raymond it is engrossing. The clues we pick up are startling and made me fidgety in my chair. Watching him employing different tactics to try to get unsuspecting girls into his car was deeply disturbing and made me immediately think of "Silence of the Lambs" which no doubt took considerable influence from this film.
The pace quickens in the third act, and seems to go from a three to a ten in a matter of minutes. It culminates in one the scariest, most shocking climaxes I have ever seen; it left me literally on the edge of my seat. Some will have trouble suffering a lot of talking and a slow, unnecessary setup, but good things come to those who wait. Perhaps it is a sign of our own sociopathy that we eagerly wait to the end to know what an insane man will do to a helpless girl, but I suppose I'm okay with that.
3/4
Saturday, November 10, 2012
True Grit (2010)
The Coen brothers are among the most imaginative and skilled American filmmakers working, presenting us works that often polarize audiences and never fail to get noticed. "True Grit" marks a deviation from their previous work as their most realistic, least obscure story. But how good the results are is a testament that their skills go beyond the oddball and the macabre--they simply are damn fine craftsmen when paired with the right material.
Going back to previous work such as "Raising Arizona" and "No Country for Old Men", Joel and Ethan bring us back to the desert for their version of the great American western, told through the eyes of two decided city-slickers. A ruthless killer murders the father of Mattie Ross (newcomer Hailee Steinfeld) and makes off with his two California gold pieces and his gray mare. It is up to Mattie to venture from the back country to the town to settle her father's affairs, and then into Choctaw territory to find and kill the villainous Tom Chaney (Josh Brolin).
Mattie, though only 14, is plucky and whip smart, able to spin circles around those who oppose her in order to get her way. Steinfeld practically shoved her way into an Oscar slot in one particular scene early on when she steps into a horse trader's shop and robs him blind, all with his legally binding signature. Throwing about a smattering of Latin and the name of some lawyer or another in Bumblescum, Nowhere, Hailee's true grit makes her a mini force of nature.
With much persuasion she is able to hire the meanest bounty hunter in the west, a US Marshall named Rooster Cogburn, played by the more the capable Jeff Bridges. The drinking, trigger-happy, lawless law enforcer peers out of one eye and slurs a string of indiscernible words out of the side of his mouth. It doesn't seem to me that Bridges bathed for the entirety of the filming process and it wouldn't surprise me if there was real whiskey in the bottles he swigs from. No sentence he gives is a "line". It's just one of those performances where you forget the actor with nothing but Rooster left behind to watch.
The two make for unique and actually quite charming little duo. They are joined by a third, one Mr. LaBoeuf (Matt Damon), a Texas Ranger who has been after Chaney for months. Together this ragtag band of misfits traverse and fight the wilderness, the Pepper Gang, led by the nasty Lucky Ned Pepper (a fantastic Barry Pepper), and occasionally each other as they near their bounty.
I have always been a big fan of the western film and have to say there is nothing like a really good one. Honing in their more unusual point of view, the Coen bros. have constructed a beautifully shot and impeccably written piece of art that is the best of its genre since "Unforgiven". I might argue that it's even better than that. The directors have taken painstaking efforts to reconstruct a Midwest 1880s that is both meticulous and all encompassing. Sets, costumes, props, the extras used, dialects, slang--it all seems perfect to me. It is quite simply a great film.
I love the story for its natural humor and its continuous suspense. Nothing felt forced and yet I always felt as though I was in a state of insecurity. Rooster's quest for Chaney led by "a harpy in trousers and a nincompoop" is funny, exciting, fabulously acted and lovingly crafted. While watching I pitied the characters, but once it was over I admit I wished I was right there beside the trio, pistol in hand.
4/4
Going back to previous work such as "Raising Arizona" and "No Country for Old Men", Joel and Ethan bring us back to the desert for their version of the great American western, told through the eyes of two decided city-slickers. A ruthless killer murders the father of Mattie Ross (newcomer Hailee Steinfeld) and makes off with his two California gold pieces and his gray mare. It is up to Mattie to venture from the back country to the town to settle her father's affairs, and then into Choctaw territory to find and kill the villainous Tom Chaney (Josh Brolin).
Mattie, though only 14, is plucky and whip smart, able to spin circles around those who oppose her in order to get her way. Steinfeld practically shoved her way into an Oscar slot in one particular scene early on when she steps into a horse trader's shop and robs him blind, all with his legally binding signature. Throwing about a smattering of Latin and the name of some lawyer or another in Bumblescum, Nowhere, Hailee's true grit makes her a mini force of nature.
With much persuasion she is able to hire the meanest bounty hunter in the west, a US Marshall named Rooster Cogburn, played by the more the capable Jeff Bridges. The drinking, trigger-happy, lawless law enforcer peers out of one eye and slurs a string of indiscernible words out of the side of his mouth. It doesn't seem to me that Bridges bathed for the entirety of the filming process and it wouldn't surprise me if there was real whiskey in the bottles he swigs from. No sentence he gives is a "line". It's just one of those performances where you forget the actor with nothing but Rooster left behind to watch.
The two make for unique and actually quite charming little duo. They are joined by a third, one Mr. LaBoeuf (Matt Damon), a Texas Ranger who has been after Chaney for months. Together this ragtag band of misfits traverse and fight the wilderness, the Pepper Gang, led by the nasty Lucky Ned Pepper (a fantastic Barry Pepper), and occasionally each other as they near their bounty.
I have always been a big fan of the western film and have to say there is nothing like a really good one. Honing in their more unusual point of view, the Coen bros. have constructed a beautifully shot and impeccably written piece of art that is the best of its genre since "Unforgiven". I might argue that it's even better than that. The directors have taken painstaking efforts to reconstruct a Midwest 1880s that is both meticulous and all encompassing. Sets, costumes, props, the extras used, dialects, slang--it all seems perfect to me. It is quite simply a great film.
I love the story for its natural humor and its continuous suspense. Nothing felt forced and yet I always felt as though I was in a state of insecurity. Rooster's quest for Chaney led by "a harpy in trousers and a nincompoop" is funny, exciting, fabulously acted and lovingly crafted. While watching I pitied the characters, but once it was over I admit I wished I was right there beside the trio, pistol in hand.
4/4
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
The Lady Eve (1941)
A direct decedent of "Bringing Up Baby", Preston Sturges's comedy pits two Hollywood greats, Barbara Stanwyk and Henry Fonda, in a game of love dealt out in the cards. She is Jean, a fast talking card sharp; he is Charles, a snake-loving heir to a brewing fortune. What begins as a cruel con ends in love, but not without some major bumps along the way.
Stuck on a boat heading to New York Charles, recently returned from a year in the Amazon--a trek we hear about far more than necessary--must beat off the ladies with a stick until he literally trips over the beautiful and brash Jean. It's love at first sight. It has to be. In the same vein as "Baby" he is a simp of a scientist who is charming purely by being a naive nerd. He is no match for the cunning of our gold digging siren, but his ignorant charm wins her over as well--something not in the cards.
Despite the plights of her two associates, she decides to marry Charles after a night of slight of hand and gentle caresses of the face. A past like Jean's can't remain a secret for long, however, which leads to a very ugly end to their intended nuptials. But Hell hath no fury like a woman's scorn, so they say, and a plot of revenge gets underway.
Stanwyk is perfect in her role. As much as she is seductive and gorgeous, she is also manipulative and cunning, able to play a man just as well as she plays poker. Drawing so many connections to Howard Hawks's screwball wonder would be rude, but there can be no denying the many flashes of Kate Hepburn in her performance. That isn't a bad thing (how could it be?), it's merely an observation.
As much as I like her, though, I couldn't find myself attracted to Fonda. Certainly no man is as big a fool as he is and his weak spine began to get annoying. A little bit of range would have been nice to break up the monotony of the love struck schoolboy in awe of the tough, female protagonist.
I also didn't accept the romance. I can overlook the head-over-heels infatuation they formed, as it is a romantic comedy and never strives for realism, but at the end of the day this guy was stuck in the jungle, surrounded only by men for a year. He was simply horny. One would think it would wear off after a while.
Moreover, the first act dragged and ending was superficial and obvious, though it confusingly seemed also to come out of nowhere. Suddenly the credits were rolling and I didn't feel the story had been resolved. It's a cute film and more than occasionally funny, but the potential was far greater than the outcome. The third act zips along and is a lot of fun, but it ends in an odd and unpleasant train ride which I didn't fully understand. Jean exacts her revenge, which we know will happen, but what she does really doesn't make a whole lot of sense and makes her seem far uglier than it probably intended to. In short, it was a nice, long setup with a dud of a punchline.
3/4
Stuck on a boat heading to New York Charles, recently returned from a year in the Amazon--a trek we hear about far more than necessary--must beat off the ladies with a stick until he literally trips over the beautiful and brash Jean. It's love at first sight. It has to be. In the same vein as "Baby" he is a simp of a scientist who is charming purely by being a naive nerd. He is no match for the cunning of our gold digging siren, but his ignorant charm wins her over as well--something not in the cards.
Despite the plights of her two associates, she decides to marry Charles after a night of slight of hand and gentle caresses of the face. A past like Jean's can't remain a secret for long, however, which leads to a very ugly end to their intended nuptials. But Hell hath no fury like a woman's scorn, so they say, and a plot of revenge gets underway.
Stanwyk is perfect in her role. As much as she is seductive and gorgeous, she is also manipulative and cunning, able to play a man just as well as she plays poker. Drawing so many connections to Howard Hawks's screwball wonder would be rude, but there can be no denying the many flashes of Kate Hepburn in her performance. That isn't a bad thing (how could it be?), it's merely an observation.
As much as I like her, though, I couldn't find myself attracted to Fonda. Certainly no man is as big a fool as he is and his weak spine began to get annoying. A little bit of range would have been nice to break up the monotony of the love struck schoolboy in awe of the tough, female protagonist.
I also didn't accept the romance. I can overlook the head-over-heels infatuation they formed, as it is a romantic comedy and never strives for realism, but at the end of the day this guy was stuck in the jungle, surrounded only by men for a year. He was simply horny. One would think it would wear off after a while.
Moreover, the first act dragged and ending was superficial and obvious, though it confusingly seemed also to come out of nowhere. Suddenly the credits were rolling and I didn't feel the story had been resolved. It's a cute film and more than occasionally funny, but the potential was far greater than the outcome. The third act zips along and is a lot of fun, but it ends in an odd and unpleasant train ride which I didn't fully understand. Jean exacts her revenge, which we know will happen, but what she does really doesn't make a whole lot of sense and makes her seem far uglier than it probably intended to. In short, it was a nice, long setup with a dud of a punchline.
3/4
Thursday, November 1, 2012
The Master (2012)
It will be extremely difficult for a person to like this film, easy for them to love it, and even easier for them to passionately hate it. I fall into the middle category, though I must say that I found it a difficult and at times extremely uncomfortable movie-going experience. This is not something for the feint of heart, nor is it for a person resembling its main character, aggressive and easily manipulated. Paul Thomas Anderson has added to his small yet fantastically strong collection of films a piece that may challenge the way you view the medium altogether.
Reflection has done little good for me. My ideas are unclear, combating a swirling mixture of emotions, frustration, fear and delight. Anderson's perverse and hateful view of humanity which we first got a full taste of in his masterpiece "There Will Be Blood" is deepened in intensity in his loose depiction of the cult of Scientology.
A staggering triumph of craftsmanship, the United States of 1950 is reconstructed absolutely. It is crisp and modern, idyllic and beautiful on the surface, though there is something slightly off-putting about it. Perhaps it is not in the construction of the place, but rather its presentation. Fish-eye lenses, saturated colors and the jarring and ever present musical score from Jonny Greenwood turn harmless Navy boys into nameless enemies.
Freddie Quell is one these sailors, returning home from the war with a case of the nerves. Stumbling about, talking with slurred words and seeing out of one eye, the violent, deranged, sexually depraved man is an outcast of outcasts. Joaquin Phoenix gives what is quite possibly the performance of the year and easily the greatest of his career as a lost, crazed soul. He does not perform for his audience, he simply inhabits a screen. This is his world, immersed in a character who drinks paint thinner, peroxide and whatever liquid happens to leak out of torpedo; a vagabond and a killer whose purpose is pussy and whose means is his fist. It is a character study of epic proportions of an incredibly frightening man.
Two hours on Freddie alone would be engrossing in itself, but this man needs a purpose. Anderson brings him into the hands of Lancaster Dodd, a man of shining charisma who speaks in prose and whose eyes penetrates the soul. He is the Master, leader of The Cause, who with his wife (Amy Adams, in yet another superb performance), sets out to purify the souls of his following by bringing them into past lives extending back trillions of years (that's trillions with a "t"). One man with a broken mind should not fall into the hands of another with a silver tongue. But Freddie does, and we journey with him as he is broken with the arms of a congregation as dangerous as Freddie is.
Philip Seymour Hoffman is powerful as Freddie's foil. His false humor and his quick, easy explanations relieved me and made me trust him in spite of myself. Why Lancaster would take such an interest in Freddie I still do not know, but when these two acting greats face off in moments of stillness the air becomes too stifling to breathe. The two fall so deeply into their characters and rely so completely on one another that Anderson's words rise to the level of profundity.
I don't want to hyperbolize and frankly I don't think I have. What we have is the supreme work of an artist whose mind is so far beyond that of the average audience member that it becomes an exercise to keep up with him. Anderson manipulates his scenes so perfectly that they become hypnotic, brainwashing me as well, as I worked to process the great truths I was hearing. He has an audience in mind and this audience knows who they are. What worries me is that I might not be learned enough to fall into that category.
His two latest films are sisters, developing further his view of man as an animal. It is an alarming attack on the subconscious, and a transplendent vision perfectly executed. I don't know precisely what it all means to me personally, but it has gotten me thinking not only about the craftsmanship of the movie, but larger questions about life and relationships. To be able to get another person to do that is nothing short of genius.
4/4
Reflection has done little good for me. My ideas are unclear, combating a swirling mixture of emotions, frustration, fear and delight. Anderson's perverse and hateful view of humanity which we first got a full taste of in his masterpiece "There Will Be Blood" is deepened in intensity in his loose depiction of the cult of Scientology.
A staggering triumph of craftsmanship, the United States of 1950 is reconstructed absolutely. It is crisp and modern, idyllic and beautiful on the surface, though there is something slightly off-putting about it. Perhaps it is not in the construction of the place, but rather its presentation. Fish-eye lenses, saturated colors and the jarring and ever present musical score from Jonny Greenwood turn harmless Navy boys into nameless enemies.
Freddie Quell is one these sailors, returning home from the war with a case of the nerves. Stumbling about, talking with slurred words and seeing out of one eye, the violent, deranged, sexually depraved man is an outcast of outcasts. Joaquin Phoenix gives what is quite possibly the performance of the year and easily the greatest of his career as a lost, crazed soul. He does not perform for his audience, he simply inhabits a screen. This is his world, immersed in a character who drinks paint thinner, peroxide and whatever liquid happens to leak out of torpedo; a vagabond and a killer whose purpose is pussy and whose means is his fist. It is a character study of epic proportions of an incredibly frightening man.
Two hours on Freddie alone would be engrossing in itself, but this man needs a purpose. Anderson brings him into the hands of Lancaster Dodd, a man of shining charisma who speaks in prose and whose eyes penetrates the soul. He is the Master, leader of The Cause, who with his wife (Amy Adams, in yet another superb performance), sets out to purify the souls of his following by bringing them into past lives extending back trillions of years (that's trillions with a "t"). One man with a broken mind should not fall into the hands of another with a silver tongue. But Freddie does, and we journey with him as he is broken with the arms of a congregation as dangerous as Freddie is.
Philip Seymour Hoffman is powerful as Freddie's foil. His false humor and his quick, easy explanations relieved me and made me trust him in spite of myself. Why Lancaster would take such an interest in Freddie I still do not know, but when these two acting greats face off in moments of stillness the air becomes too stifling to breathe. The two fall so deeply into their characters and rely so completely on one another that Anderson's words rise to the level of profundity.
I don't want to hyperbolize and frankly I don't think I have. What we have is the supreme work of an artist whose mind is so far beyond that of the average audience member that it becomes an exercise to keep up with him. Anderson manipulates his scenes so perfectly that they become hypnotic, brainwashing me as well, as I worked to process the great truths I was hearing. He has an audience in mind and this audience knows who they are. What worries me is that I might not be learned enough to fall into that category.
His two latest films are sisters, developing further his view of man as an animal. It is an alarming attack on the subconscious, and a transplendent vision perfectly executed. I don't know precisely what it all means to me personally, but it has gotten me thinking not only about the craftsmanship of the movie, but larger questions about life and relationships. To be able to get another person to do that is nothing short of genius.
4/4
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