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Forever your avid film fan,
Ian

Rio (2011)

Directed by: Carlos Saldanha
Written by: Don Rhymer, Joshua Sternin, J.R. Ventimilia, Sam Harper
Starring: Jesse Eisenberg, Anne Hathaway
Rated: PG

"Rio" is a bit like a Faberge egg, pretty and glittering with a completely hollow inside. One crack of that egg and it becomes all too apparent how little substance is supporting all of that style. Once again Hollywood has banked on the kiddies being wowed by the pretty lights, sweeping into the corner any suggestion of delivering a script with messages other than believing in yourself and the power of friendship conquering all. Been there, seen that.

Like "Happy Feet" and "Finding Nemo", our central character is an anthropomorphized animal who struggles with limitations that his brethren do not. In this case it is a blue macaw, ingeniously named Blu, who has never learned to fly. One of only two of his species left in the world, as a chick Blu was captured by smugglers and by sheer luck fell into the lap of a little girl named Linda.

Now grown up, Blu finds himself more of a human than a bird, snug in his little bookshop paradise in Minnesota and completely uninterested with the animal world. Best friend of the rather sad Linda, Blu is content in drinking hot chocolate and keeping Linda blissfully unaware of how lonely she really is. But when an Brazilian ornithologist named Tulio convinces Linda to bring Blu to Rio de Janeiro to mate with the other of the two blue macaws, he finds his world upside down, and much like a fresh college graduate he must face the challenges of real life.

The story touches on themes of conservation and the dangers of poaching and smuggling, though unlike films like "Wall-E" in doesn't make a point of truly addressing the importance of the topic. Instead they focus on Blu's romance with the spunky macaw Jewel and Blu's own insecurities. The villains are smugglers, and a dastardly, vicious bird named Nigel, but they're all too hapless to be frightening and too dumb to be entertaining. More than anything else they're simply a nuisance, slowing down Blu's attempt to get back home to Linda and into the wings of Jewel.

The film somehow assembles a cast of A-listers, including Jesse Eisenberg and Anne Hathaway as the stars, though their voice acting does little to keep up with the zippy, meandering plot. I suppose the idea of a quick and painless paycheck was reason enough for those two, George Lopez, Jamie Foxx and will.i.am to sign on to the project. Actually the latter two give the best vocal performances of the bunch, particularly will.i.am, who I could foresee having a lucrative future in the business. Most of the rest, however, give lackluster performances with don't lend well to the lackluster plot.

Where the film does excel is in the exuberance of the art direction. There are some clever action moments, but mostly the filmmakers were smart in placing the story in a city for vivacity and during Carnival. The setting lends itself to catchy tunes and a pallet of eye-popping colors. Like "Happy Feet" these birds love to sing and dance, mostly samba, and the choreographed computer work is entertaining.

That doesn't make up for its script which could easily have been penned by a 4th grader, nor does it negate the lack of a memorable villain, solid climax or any sort of organic flow to the plot. "Rio" relies more on energy, pop culture references, and enough jungle-themed jokes to make one gag, than it does on a solid structure. A straightforward story reeks of summertime fluff, and this is about as fluffy as they come.

2/4

Tombstone (1993)

Directed by: George P. Cosmatos 
Written: Kevin Jarre
Starring: Kurt Russell, Val Kilmer
Rated: R

Is it bad that I would recommend this film on the stipulation that the editor cut out all scenes involving women or its star, Kurt Russell, whenever a scene involves him speaking? If that isn't bad then yes, see this film. As it stands, however, no small amount of patience is needed to endure Russell faking a bad boy, gunslinger persona with the most godawful mustache a costumer could inflict, or the numbing melodrama vomited forth from a slew of highly incompetent actresses. Thank God for Val Kilmer is all I have to say.

The days of the Spaghetti Western are long since dead, and they don't need any more dirt heaped onto their graves. Camp and cliche are all well and good, but not in a genre which I hold dearly and that doesn't get nearly as much love as deserved. A simple yet effective true story of a retired lawman and his brothers ridding the town of Tombstone from a renegade band of miscreants, headed by two big names could have punched a heartbeat back into the Western (the early 90's was good to them, think "Dances with Wolves" and "Unforgiven"). The lack of gravity and clear vision finally trumped the solid story.

We begin with Wyatt Earp (Russell) and the brothers Earp (Sam Elliott and Bill Paxton), who move to Tombstone with plans of making big bucks in the shiny world of business. Wyatt bullies himself into the attention of the mayor and the local sheriff, and soon a red scarfed gang known as the Cowboys have their eye fixed on him and his family.

Wyatt is going straight, he tells us over and over. But that mustache and that duster say otherwise. They say this is a man who has applied a badge to his chest and uses it to justify his violent actions. In my mind their is something rather pathological about soldiers or security guards or policemen; it certainly takes a specific type of man who willingly puts himself into harm's way, and Wyatt seems to relish in it. A hero? Hardly. More an outlaw with immunity.

But of course Wyatt can't be presented that way. This is the rootenist, tootenist, shootenist town in Arizona, and of all of the men in Tombstone who flaunt about their phallic substitutes at least one of them needs to have us morally sympathize at some level. Not to worry, though. Director George P. Cosmatos (haven't heard of him? Yeah, me neither...) makes sure to sledgehammer our sympathies into us with one excruciating love story with actress Dana Delany. The only thing worse than her acting in her film is her overbite.

She is just one of far too many women here who feel it is in the film's best interest to make sure that every scene is their scene. Frankly, I'm surprised most of them even allowed other people into their shots. Paula Malcomson as Wyatt's sister Allie chewed up the scene in the worst sort of way. Her 101 acting skills had no place being in the same film as Charlton Heston. Please gals, leave it to the gents.

What a revelation Val Kilmer was. I never really took him seriously as anything more than a handsome face, but behind the character Doc Holliday, an alcoholic sharpshooter dying from tuberculosis, he is a juggernaut. Of  course, a great deal of credit must be given to screenwriter Kevin Jarre for penning a genuinely interesting and creative character. A sort of genteel, Southern gentleman, Holliday struts about a calm suaveness wielding a crackling wit.

This is a man's film in general, make no mistake. Fast, precise bullets, drinking, smoking, gambling all fit that great American rubber stamp of the self-made, man's man. In that regard it is a lot of fun. I tried not to take things too seriously, because in the end is there really all that much to analyze about the O.K. Corral shootout? Multitudinous historical inaccuracies aside--and miserable acting from a far too large section of actors put grudgingly aside--"Tombstone" nearly manages a recommendation.

2/4

Rififi (1955)

Directed by: Jules Dassin
Written by: Jules Dassin, Rene Wheeler, Auguste le Breton 
Starring: Jean Servais, Carl Mohner, Robert Manuel, Jules Dassin
Rated: NR

I was somewhat surprised to see a solid French gangster film, but I'm not sure why. Captain Obvious will tell you noir is a French word, but the retrospectively applied term to the genre leaves more American connotation, or at least English ones, than it does continental European. Of course, director Jules Dassin is American, but he is an American with European sensibilities, and here has fashioned a heist picture that at once applies the tension and male-driven qualities of the dime-a-dozen Hollywood gangster films with the uniquely French emotional qualities which drive the story. Most of the film is unremarkable save one sequence, the heist itself, which will floor you. But more on that to follow. Now, some formalities...

Rififi means "rough-and-tumble", and "Rififi" is a handsome film about a small group of handsome, rough-n'-tumble men who plot to rob a bank safe full of tens of millions of francs worth of precious jewels. Heading the team is Tony le Stephanois (Jean Servais) who, after a stint in prison is approached by his good friends Jo (Carl Mohner) and Mario (Robert Manuel) who wish to carry out a small heist. When it is discovered the riches hidden in the vaults, they employ the help of safe expert and sexual deviant Cesar (Dassin) to go for the gold, so to speak.

The four plan the perfect caper and they succeed, making them all instantly wealthy. But le Stephanois's past relationship with the lovely Mado (Marie Sabouret) comes back to haunt him when her current beau, the jealous and dangerous Louis Grutter (Pierre Grasset), learns of their robbery, compounded by the hapless bungling of Cesar. While keeping one step ahead of the police, the group must now avoid the rival gang and protect the ice they've stolen.

All in all it's pretty standard fare, full of characters but only peppered with a few people worth worrying about. Most of the cast flit in and out, like Mado, who seems only to be a part of the movie to link le Stephanois to Grutter and provide a valuable, but not crucial bit of information. What these people do with their jewels is of little interest--even le Stephanois doesn't know what he wants them for--but the underlying themes is what people will do to obtain riches, even without an end goal. It seems as though having and holding the gems is the goal itself.

Dassin has done a capable job of wearing multiple hats as director, writer and actor, helming a piece that is taught with a slow build to the final obligatory shootout. But what is most interesting is not the climax, but the heist itself which comes at the halfway mark. Indeed, I'm sure "Rififi" is only really the iconic piece of French cinema it is due the carefully orchestrated breaking and entering of the bank.

For a full 32 minutes the audience is left watching the men execute the plan which they methodically mapped out. Without a single line of dialogue or a note of music the meticulous and exhilarating robbery unfolds. It is beautifully choreographed; I had the impression that I was watching art about art, not about crime, and it certainly makes one wonder about where the information on planning such an intricate scene was gathered. Often ripped off, this is a benchmark moment in cinematic crime, one of terrible urgency yet one that plays with the grace of a Debussy piano suite. It is truly movie magic.

I have a great love for noir  pictures. Even though the characters are meant to move about the screen full of fear and suspicion, I find something so inherently romantic about them. They feature proper men, full of self-worth and a hidden desire to do good. They wander lonely streets and hide behind streetlamps, ducking into payphone booths to send a desperate call of warning. There is never a black and white; the intentions and interests of the characters are made more understandable because they are more morally ambiguous. For all of the heightened sense of drama this brand of cinema feels the most real to me because there really is no good and evil, even though there may be a "good guy" and a "bad guy". Although "Rififi" is largely undistinguished (excepting the centerpiece) it still has the qualities of a great movie, full of that moral ambiguity which I love so much.

3.5/4

The Spectacular Now (2013)

Directed by: James Ponsoldt
Written by: Scott Neustadter, Michael H. Weber
Starring: Miles Teller, Shailene Woodley
Rated: R

Watching "The Spectacular Now" was something of a small revelation for me. Who knew that the coming of age, teenage romp story still had some life left in it? And not just some life, but a beautiful swelling of uncolored emotion. Finally, a film that doesn't treat teenagers like as half-formed people, but rather as fully formed beings transitioning into accountable members of society. I left the theatre with these words rolling around in my head: that was a solid little movie.

Sitting before a keyboard, sipping some unknown potion from a Big Gulp cup, Sutter (Miles Teller) rolls around what to write for his college application essay. It asks him to describe a period of adversity, how he overcame it, and what he learned from the experience. After some thoughtful, moderately drunk moments Sutter describes the end of his relationship with "fucking" awesome girlfriend, Cassidy (Brie Larson). It's an obvious, odious, 18-year-old sex and booze-fueled lusty affair with no sort of real emotion, but that's what he knows. He's a teenage alcoholic, a partier and a joke. That essay is the end of a chapter of his life.

A night of bar hopping leaves a blacked out Sutter on a random lawn to be discovered by Aimee (Shailene Woodley), the quiet good girl who of course isn't right for Sutter, but somehow she is. Rediscovering those long forgotten, pubescent roads hopefully never to be walked again, the movie steers us through those hardest times when "graduation", "virginity", "prom", "parents", "future" were words that held very real and very frightening connotations for us. The yin to his yang, Aimee and Sutter push and pull each other towards an equilibrium in which they can be happy with themselves and each other.

Teller and Woodley deliver surprisingly real and affectionate performances that strip away that shiny tint that seems perpetually painted on movies that deal with the issues of high schoolers. It's an awkward relationship, full of more than casual glances. Sutter is as charismatic as they come, a defense mechanism that we can only assume was acquired from a fear of rejection and failure. He shoots himself down and dotes on others before he himself can become a target of others. She attends French Club and her heroine is a figure from an anime series. She guards herself out of an obligation to her family. To each other though, they are safe.

When you parry it down the plot sounds hackneyed and cliched --the party boy and the loner girl who find solace in each other, but a script by Scott Neustadter and Michael H. Weber should alleviate fears of commonplace ideas. After their triumphant "500 Days of Summer" there is no question that the two writers know how to pen conventional stories in a way that is both unconventional and honest. I didn't once watch Sutter and Aimee's romance blossom and think it was forced or contrived for the sake of making an audience happy. The film breathes and resonates because it's relatable. Sutter is not especially handsome and he wins people over with his smooth talking charm, so why couldn't he and Aimee be together? He calls her beautiful and he's absolutely right.

The film's strength is in its raw and sympathetic characters and in the fact that it doesn't feel the need to throw glitter in the eyes of the viewer. The ending hits you like a sucker punch because it has taken the time to create damaged roles for talented actors who are given free reign to explore and expand the identifiable troubles of their relationship. What Aimee and Sutter have may or may not be true love, but the end result isn't the point. The point is the process and "The Spectacular Now" drives it home.

3.5/4

Blue Jasmine (2013)

Directed by: Woody Allen

Written by: Woody Allen

Starring: Cate Blanchett, Sally Hawkins, Bobby Cannavale, Alec Baldwin, Peter Sarsgaard

Rated: PG-13

Cate Blanchett gives the best performance of her career as the title character of Woody Allen's modern adaptation of Tennessee Williams's "A Streetcar Named Desire". Positively swallowing the screen, Blanchett is an unstoppable force who, unless she meets her immovable object, will handily win the gold come Oscar time. 

Hearkening back to the classic Hollywood performances of the mid-20th Century, she plays the lofty and delusional socialite, Jasmine, a woman who had it all and lost it through her own doing and is forced to take stock of her life. After losing her house and her crook husband (Alec Baldwin), Blanchett leaves New York to stay with her sister Ginger (Sally Hawkins) and pick herself back up again. Forced back into the real world, the neurotic housewife struggles with Ginger's humbler way of living and works to maintain the insanity that bubbles just under her surface.  

We meet Jasmine on an airplane where she sits gabbing with an older woman on the plane. The lady says nothing as Jasmine talks and talks and talks, recounting her life story, and when they finally reach the airport the old lady takes off while Jasmine tries to get her phone number. From the start there is the fear and vulnerability of a woman who has just suffered a nervous breakdown. Blanchett does nothing to hide the wounded characteristics of her character and certainly Jasmine is not easy company to keep.

Hawkins gives some fine acting as the caring if enabling Ginger who takes her in much to the chagrin of her grease monkey fiance, Chili (Bobby Cannavale). With her help Jasmine goes to school to learn how to use a computer in order to be able to take online classes on interior design. She tries to work, she tries to date, but mostly she tries to reclaim her status. As much as this is a character study about a woman so complicated only Williams could pen her, it is also a very sharp commentary about the excess of the 1%.

Of course that all really comes second to Blanchett's interpretation of Blanche DuBois and the circumstances that lead to an unstable woman's reality shattering around her. On the surface she is the dying heir to those 1940's starlets: shining with a demure refinement, dressed to the nines, and speaking with a hint of a Mid-Atlantic accent that reminds one of her Oscar-winning turn as Katharine Hepburn. And then one sees Jasmine talking to herself, replaying the events of her life before she was given Edison's Medicine, and we realize that behind that porcelain skin and Fendi purse she is a woman keeping her dismembered parts loosely stitched together with Xanax and alcohol. 

A lot of critics have been saying that this is the best Allen film in years, even decades, and that he has finally struck gold with the blackest sort of comedy at a late hour. I'm not as convinced. Aside from a host of great supporting roles and an almost frighteningly committed turn from the star, the film as a whole is kind of a mess. It has no organic flow to it and no suitable direction to it. Unlike its source material it spends a large amount of time showing us where this mysterious hurricane woman came from and how she got to San Francisco. But the background only gets us so far and we wonder where she will end up. Will her lies assert her back into a life of comfort? Can a make believe world become reality if one presents a picture of composure? There is no satisfying conclusion to the movie and I left wanting more.

This isn't to say that it is a bad film. On the contrary, there are too many good parts for this to even have the possibility of being bad. When the plot is derived from one of the greatest plays of the last hundred years, and is refashioned by master of guilt who has a assembled a truly fine cast it is difficult to err. A more linear narrative from Allen might have worked to his benefit though.

I wouldn't even venture to say that he had much to do with Blanchett's acting. Sure the director is wonderful with his actresses, but there is a point when one person's genius ends and the other's begins. What was so startling about her performance was the way in which she played almost two completely different roles yet was always in character. Some scenes had no buildup to a meltdown, yet Blanchett entered as Jasmine and all semblance of "acting" melted away. No warm-up, just delivery.

In all "Blue Jasmine"'s most powerful asset is its ability to be both funny and tragic, sometimes simultaneously. There is little time for lulls and the plot unfolds with the frenetic energy of Jasmine's mind. The project mostly rests on Blanchett's shoulders, and fortunately all involved there is no reluctance from her about holding it up.

3/4

The East (2013)

Directed by: Zal Batmanglij
Written by: Zal Batmanglij, Brit Marling
Starring: Brit Marling, Alexander Skarsgard, Ellen Page
Rated: R

From Romulus and Remus to Mowgli to Native American folklore, throughout history and around the globe there are stories of feral children raised by wolves. It is in human nature to examine oneself as a beast, to draw association with animals, anthropomorphize them, and study the adaptive behavior of man in a naked form. Government is an artificial construct derived from a pack mentality in which we as humans have an alpha and a series of omegas, but suppose we did not. A Hobbesian state of nature is a cruel place, but for a rare few the structure is far crueler.

Sarah (Brit Marling) is a new operative for a highly secretive intelligence organization that specializes in the protection of large enterprises. Her husband tells her he knew more about her when she worked for the FBI. After nine months of dedicated research she is chosen to infiltrate an anarchic eco-terrorist cell known as the East which has been splashed across the media for their covert and highly dangerous attacks against the major members of certain corporations. Masking herself as an ultra-left wing vagabond (I guess they prefer to be called "travelers") she earns the trust of a member after evading the police.

Brought into their headquarters, a dilapidated, fire scorched house in the middle of the woods, Sarah must then assimilate herself into their small but fiercely dedicated group, and work towards undermining their future attacks. These are the types of people who live off of discarded food found in dumpsters, who bathe each other in rivers and refer to animals as if they were reasoning beings. A disturbing opening sequence shows the hooded group break into the home of a CEO of an oil refining company. Shot using a handycam, we see them slink into the lux abode of the ultra-rich and then dump gallons of oil into the air ducts of the house, the same oil which spilled into the ocean killing an ecosystem.

This is an electrically charged, morally ambiguous thriller about the hypocritical nature of extremism and the way that charisma and cultish community can sway the beliefs of the undecided. It is obvious going in that Sarah's sympathies will be tested; in the first jam we see the disastrous results of pharmaceutical company's new drug. In the second, the effects of contaminated water. And the third, well...more on that later. The group is headed by Benji (Alexander Skarsgard), our alpha male, and under his quiet power Sarah is slowly turned to the cause.

She is the feral child, and the East is her pack. The fluidity of beliefs raises all sorts of ethical questions, and although the film at first seems to hold left-leaning sympathies it's results are not so cut and dry. They praise equality and freedom from oppression of the establishment for that only leads to the harming of the masses by the privileged few, but there is a natural order to the group headed by Benji, Doc, and Izzy (Ellen Page). They cherish life and love, but warp Biblical passages to justify what they believe to be their magnanimous justice.

The film is sleek and stylish and full of great performances. Fortunately, for all the nail-biting tension of the jams, the ethics lessons and political remarks, the plot never loses the human quality behind it all. There are deeply spiritual moments of beauty and love shared within the East, and the strong acting from all involved keep it grounded and clear of being labeled corny.

Spoiler Alert

There are so many good things going on throughout the duration of the movie that it is almost a shame to talk about the major hole in the plot which irked me beyond measure.

We know from the onset that there will be three jams against certain companies: the poisoning of the CEOs at the party and pushing Izzy's father into the polluted lake are established. Then Sarah goes back to her intel company, and upon returning learns that the last attack will be against her own firm. It turns out Benji knew all along that Sarah was a mole and was keeping her around and earning her trust in tandem with her doing the same.

But this implies that the attack on Sarah's company was premeditated from the start, contradictory to what learn about the East initially: that everyone knows their part and most of them understand the whole of the jam before they commit it. If only Benji and one other person knew about Sarah, then is this jam new? Was it formulated after Izzy's death? If so, why wasn't that explained?

The third act falls to pieces, feeling muddled and rushed, and I didn't buy the message of the end credits at all. The lack of believability in its final moments ruined the even-handedness of the first two-thirds of the film. I knew there was something amiss while watching it, but it was not until further thought after I left the theater that I pinpointed what rubbed me the wrong way.

A bit more care towards the end was needed, but it doesn't completely diminish the solid work of most of this very cool picture.

3/4