Review: Up (2009)

Let’s just get it out of the way, shall we? I am not a Pixar fan. There are a lot of little reasons, I guess, like the fact that I don’t really care for CGI or computer animation, the standard humor of modern kid’s movies annoys me, stuff like that. In the main, though, I’ve been unable to pinpoint my dislike of Pixar’s films. This is not to say that I hated them all; most of them were mildly entertaining. I enjoyed Monsters, Inc. I really loved The Incredibles. But overall, there’s something lacking for me. Still, I try to keep an open mind, and so we recently watched Up.

Carl (voiced by Ed Asner, but he looks like a cartoon Spencer Tracy) is a crotchety old man, mourning the loss of Ellie, the love of his life. They bonded as children over a love of adventure and exploration, but as adults, they got caught up in the mundane and never chased their dreams. When Carl finds himself in danger of losing his house, he decides to make the grand voyage he and Ellie always planned. Together with an unwitting stowaway, Russell (voiced by Jordan Nagai), Carl embarks on a wild adventure to Paradise Falls. Along the way he tangles with his boyhood hero, Charles Muntz (voice: Christopher Plummer, look: Kirk Douglas), whose single-minded obsession with proving the existence of an exotic bird has driven him mad. Ultimately, Carl re-discovers himself through his experiences, and learns to let go of the past and look to the future.

Up has all the usual hallmarks of a Pixar production: excellent voice cast, imaginative story, great visuals, funny little additions here and there. It’s hard to argue with the technical aspects, since they are generally flawless. I will say that the Pixar schtick of giving animals voices without anthropomorph-izing (totally a word) them, per se, is funny at first, but grates a little after a while. I know stuff like that is tossed in to make the kiddies laugh, but it doesn’t amuse me, particularly. I love older children’s movies, so it’s something about the newer stuff that bothers me, but that’s another post for another time.

Partway through Up, I realized what it is that I don’t enjoy about Pixar’s ouvre. In most cases (and like most movies), they have a message. A moral, if you will. And that’s fine, but it’s Pixar’s execution that doesn’t sit well. Their films are too finely calibrated. It’s as though someone wrote a computer program with an algorithm designed to search out each and every concept that tugs at a heartstring, and then put that concept into play within the greater context of the film. Hit this mark, move on to the next mark. Charming montage of childhood sweethearts growing old together, check. Lonely boy with absentee dad, check. Appreciation for unspoiled nature, check. And so on.

I know this is not a widely-held viewpoint, but I didn’t feel like there was any heart or humanity to the movie. It was all too slick, too perfect. That perfection may be, for many, the draw of Pixar’s films, but for me, I think that there is a great deal that gets lost. Had actors been portraying those roles, there would have been a thousand little nuances to their performances that showed us their sadness, their need. In the case of an animated film, we are left to understand those concepts without really seeing evidence of them. An illustration can only go so far; it can only show human emotion on a basic level.

The Pixar films that succeed (for me) are the ones that are not attempting to delve deeper into emotion: The Incredibles is a cartoon action flick. Monsters, Inc. has a sweetness to it, but it’s not trying to go too far. Most of the others don’t reach the emotional depths they’re reaching for. I’m not trying to tell anyone not to watch Up, or any other Pixar film. I’m well aware of their success, and it’s cool that people of all ages can enjoy them. I even look forward to sharing them with my daughter when she’s old enough for them. But I’ll still wish that they were a little less perfect, and had just a little bit more heart.

The Snow White Wars, decided

It’s been a long time coming, but we’re finally ready to decide who really is the fairest of them all. In this corner, we have Snow White and the Huntsman (henceforward known as SW&TH), a dark and gritty retelling of the fairy tale. In the other, Mirror Mirror, full of saturated colors and quippy one-liners. Who will emerge victorious? Ready? En garde…FENCE.

Starring as Snow White…Lily Collins vs. Kristen Stewart

First things first. There are those among you (Hi, Ben!) who will be disappointed to learn that there will be no K. Stew bashing here. SW&TH is actually the first thing in which I’ve seen the erstwhile Bella Swann, and I have to say that I enjoyed her performance. She wasn’t burning up the screen or anything, but I thought that her bewilderment (perhaps natural) suited the role and that ultimately, the flaws in the character were due to poor writing rather than poor acting. Her “rousing the troops” speech was quite good.

Lily Collins, on the other hand, had more to work with, and capitalized on a great deal of personal charm. Her Snow was spunky, kind-hearted, and mischievous, none of which require a great deal of acting, but which she conveyed well, nonetheless. Like Stewart, she did not employ a great deal of range, nor was much needed. Her chemistry with Armie Hammer was weak, but since their relationship was hardly dynamic, it didn’t matter.

Winner: Lily Collins. Overall, she did a better job of selling the role and carrying the action.

As the Evil Queen…Julia Roberts vs. Charlize Theron

I’m a Julia Roberts fan. I know she’s not the most amazing actor ever, but she’s generally enjoyable to watch, and her turn as the Wicked Stepmother was no exception. I thought she was hilarious. She was snarky and appropriately vain, and clearly not a nice person. Since this version of the Snow White story was obviously meant to be a comedy, I think Roberts was a great choice as an actress willing to laugh at herself.

Here’s something that you may not have known. Ready? Listen up. CHARLIZE THERON IS TERRIFYING. In Mirror, Mirror, Julia Roberts makes the claim early on that it is [her] story, and not Snow White’s. That proves to be false, but in the case of SW&TH, it is Theron’s movie from beginning to end. She is chewing up the scenery like there is no tomorrow. If Roberts was willing to laugh at herself, Theron was willing to go full-on psycho with crazy eyes and snarling delivery. Her Evil Queen was literally the stuff of nightmares.

Winner: Charlize Theron. Girlfriend deserved an award for that performance. Seriously.

The Love Interests…Sam Claflin/Chris Hemsworth
vs. Armie Hammer

When I first realized that SW&TH was including a “prince” (Claflin) in addition to the Huntsman (Hemsworth), I thought it was a ridiculous idea. But, it really worked within the framework of the story. I enjoyed Claflin’s role, William, more than I thought I would as well. Both he and Hemsworth had good chemistry with Stewart (no, really), and William actually was a more developed character in some ways than the other two leads. Hemsworth wasn’t given a lot to do besides grumble and look beefy, which he did perfectly well, although I wish they’d just let him keep his own accent. One of the biggest failings of the movie, for me, was that what he and Stewart had to work with was not great. Theron was given all the good dialogue, or something. Maybe they’ll fix that in the (sigh) sequel?

Armie Hammer’s Prince Alcott is the exact opposite of either William or The Huntsman. Oh, he’s still beefy and heroic, but he’s also really funny. Hammer gets full marks for the scenes in which he is under a “puppy love” spell. Beyond that, he was a competent swordsman and has a fabulous speaking voice, but (as previously mentioned) had next to no chemistry with his Princess.

Winner: TIE. I really wanted either Hemsworth or Hammer to sell me, and they didn’t. The addition of Claflin was more interesting than I’d bargained for, but still doesn’t sway the balance for SW&TH.

The Dwarves

Ah, the dwarves. A necessary part of the Snow White story, but in this case, something of a controversial topic, which I don’t really care to discuss in detail. Briefly, SW&TH chose to use actors of a “regular size” to play the dwarves, whereas Mirror Mirror utilized little people (please note that the Internet says this is the PC term. If that is incorrect, please let me know). I don’t wish to be offensive, but to my mind, the rationale has a lot to do with the role that the dwarves play within the two stories. In SW&TH, the dwarves are reasonably serious characters, very similar to those of Tolkien. They are a proud people who have been cast out, and so they join in Snow White’s fight to free themselves. The dwarves in Mirror Mirror have the same motivation, but it’s a comedy, so they’re mostly there to be funny, and, well, there are notably few “serious” actors of a smaller size. Having said that, both septets are effective and enjoyable to watch. In the case of SW&TH, sadly, they don’t quite live up to potential considering we’re talking actors like Ian McShane, Bob Hoskins*, and Toby Jones. Are you noticing a theme?

*This is Bob Hoskins’ final film, as he has now retired from acting due to a Parkinson’s diagnosis. Very, very sad news.

Winner: TIE. Even if the dwarves of SW&TH didn’t have enough to do, they actually provided a lot of the emotional punch of the film, so they even out with the more-present crew from Mirror Mirror.

Visual Effects

The director of Mirror Mirror, Tarsem Singh, is well-known for his use of super-saturated color to produce striking visuals (see: The Fall). However, I was actually somewhat disappointed by the visuals here. Snow White and the Queen stood out from their surroundings due to brightly colored clothing, but for the most part, color was not a major player. Additionally, special effects were kept to a minimum (which I always appreciate). The Queen’s use of the mirror and a surprisingly creepy fight scene were the only notable exceptions.

On the other hand, the visuals were SW&TH’s strongest point (Theron notwithstanding). Director Rupert Sanders did a fantastic job of creating stark and striking landscapes, and while there were plenty of effects, they were never overdone or obviously computer-generated, which is a pet peeve of mine. All of the effects combined to provide a cohesive vision, from the Forest to the Queen’s magic army, to the magical creatures encountered by Snow White on her journey.

Winner: SW&TH. Visual effects aren’t something that I normally notice (unless they’re bad), and I was really impressed with these. Don’t believe me? Both films were nominated for the Oscar for Costume Design, but Huntsman got the nod for Visual Effects as well.

Script

As has been previously mentioned, SW&TH was seriously lacking in the writing department. The story itself was a great idea, but it fell apart when the characters needed to talk to each other. Dialogue was primarily used for exposition as opposed to character development, and as a result some of the characters were fairly static. This is often the case with regard to heroes and heroines, but they can still be fully-fleshed-out characters, even if they’re a little single-minded.

Mirror Mirror’s dialogue, full of snappy one-liners, was quite entertaining. Having some seasoned professionals like Julia Roberts and Nathan Lane around doesn’t hurt, but everyone acquitted themselves well in this respect. The story itself was rather more straightforward, and I’m not saying that the characters were any more developed than in Huntsman, but it was just more fun to listen to them talk. In a full-on comedy, it’s a bit more palatable for the dwarves to also be funny, and Lily Collins displayed surprisingly effective timing.

Winner: Mirror Mirror. It’s not award-winning dialogue, but it was totally effective within the context of the film.

And the winner is…

If you tally up the categories, you’ll find the two movies have reached a tie. As far as it goes, I do think that they were reasonably equal in terms of “tangibles.” Both entertaining films, solid B pluses. However. Remember that theme I mentioned earlier? Time and again, SW&TH reached for something greater, and fell just a bit short. I have no complaints with the actors. The film was great to look at. The story, with all of its extra interpretation and exposition, was a really fantastic idea. Unfortunately, the script just couldn’t live up to the idea. Snow White and the Huntsman could have been a really great movie, but it misses out on its full potential.

Conversely, Mirror Mirror isn’t trying to do anything fancy. It’s a semi-modernized, light look at the fairy tale. Everyone performs adequately, and it’s a totally entertaining way to spend a couple of hours (give or take). While the visuals may have been a bit disappointing given the film’s director, they weren’t bad, and didn’t detract from anything overall. Lily Collins, despite being a newcomer, manages to carry the film admirably well, and if you’re not a Julia Roberts hater, I think you’ll find her an entertaining, not-too-villainous villain. And so, by the slightest of margins, I declare Mirror Mirror the official winner of the Snow White Wars. Both movies are totally worth watching for the popcorn factor, and have markedly different interpretations to offer, but the lost promise of Snow White and the Huntsman was a sad disappointment.

Review: The Night of the Iguana (1964)

The Night of the Iguana, adapted from the Tennessee Williams play by director John Huston and Anthony Veiller, is simultaneously lighter and more opaque than other Williams adaptations like Cat on a Hot Tin Roof or A Streetcar Named Desire. The action follows a disgraced clergyman, Rev. Shannon (Richard Burton), who has been reduced to curating bus tours in Mexico. His past starts to catch up with him when the hostile leader of a tour group (Grayson Hall) discovers his dalliance with Charlotte (Sue Lyon), an underage girl under her charge. In an attempt to stall his ruin, Shannon waylays the group at a rundown hotel near Puerto Vallarta which is run by Maxine (Ava Gardner), an earthy American woman who harbors feelings for the erstwhile man of God. The arrival at the hotel of itinerant painter Hannah (Deborah Kerr) and her aged poet grandfather (Cyril Delevanti) adds to the chaos of the scene, even while Hannah attempts to smooth everything over. The meat of the film is an emotional night of breakdowns and soul-searching conversation, climaxing in the completion of the poet’s last poem. Ultimately, The Night of the Iguana has something of a happier ending than one would generally expect from a Williams piece, although not without some ambiguity.

It sort of sounds like a wacky rom-com, doesn’t it? There are certainly moments where the drama almost seems to be played for laughs. At first glance, Burton’s “defrocked” priest is an over-the-top caricature: often drunk, wide-eyed and indignant, feigning innocence when caught red-handed. Even in despair, he seems to be playing a part rather than truly suffering. It is in his quiet moments that Burton peels back the layers to reveal Shannon’s pain. Though boorish on the outside, he’s really a deeply faithful man who loves God and all his creations, but who sees humanity’s hypocrisy as the ultimate disappointment. He is a keen observer of human nature, able to cut others to the core when he lashes out. It is up to Maxine and Hannah to restore his faith in humanity, and they both make the attempt in highly individual ways that would seem to represent the struggle between emotion and reason. Maxine is a hedonist, but she has a good heart and seems to genuinely care for Shannon. Meanwhile Hannah is more aloof, but it is her cool rationality and quiet faith that brings Shannon back to himself. Both Gardner and Kerr fill these roles memorably; it was fascinating to watch two actresses, a little bit beyond their prime, use their age and experience to truly provide their characters with the right sensibilities. Gardner in particular is riveting as a woman who knows she is no longer young, but still relies on her sexual appeal and presents a facade of independence while fearing the loneliness of growing older. Kerr is perfectly cast as her polar opposite: Hannah is not without feeling, but she has made her peace with being a “spinster,” and fills her life with travel and experience instead of companionship.

The Night of the Iguana is something of a departure from the typical “play-turned-film.” There is a fair amount of movement and action in the first half of the movie, during which the tour group is traveling through Mexico. Even when the location settles on Maxine’s inn, something about the direction and the performances of the three leads manages to seem more dynamic than many theatrical adaptations. Although shot in black and white, Huston still manages to capture the lush vegetation and beauty of his location, and indeed is credited with putting Puerto Vallarta on the map as a tourist destination. The scenery adds to the heat and passion of the production; it’s easy to imagine the sultry night bringing out ugly truths and revelations. In the final estimation, the film belongs to its three leading performers, however. Burton does seem to be chewing the scenery at times, but I think that this behavior is a part of his character: Shannon enjoys the dramatics and is even called out for it by Hannah at one point. Kerr and Gardner are a match for Burton, and all three are greatly entertaining to watch. As with most Williams, there’s a lot going on here, and it feels as though multiple viewings might be needed in order to truly understand the depths that the film is trying to reach, but for good direction, cinematography, and excellent performances, you really can’t go wrong here.

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The Best Years of Our Lives (1946)

Normally, war and post-war films are seriously depressing. Think The Deerhunter. Oy. But we were pleasantly surprised by The Best Years of Our Lives, which is #37 on the AFI list. Winner of 7 Oscars, including Best Picture and Best Director for William Wyler, the film follows three soldiers as they return home after World War II. Portrayed by Fredric March, Dana Andrews, and Harold Russell, the three men struggle to re-assimilate themselves into normal society and their personal lives. All three give impressive performances, with March and Russell both winning Oscars. Russell in particular is affecting as a young man who has lost both arms below the elbow. He really did lose both arms, and so was selected for the film to provide a realistic perspective on veterans with disabilities. As a whole, the film is amazingly perceptive (and still relevant) in its views on the amount (or lack) of concern shown to returning veterans. Hollywood has long had a “liberal” slant, and The Best Years of Our Lives definitely showcases that. Despite a “happy” ending, the film still manages to be affecting and sincere, and is even a little bit controversial in addressing concepts like divorce and extra-marital affairs. Co-starring Myrna Loy and Teresa Wright, The Best Years of Our Lives is totally worth a watch, even if you’re normally afraid of post-war films like we are.

Moonrise Kingdom (2012)

Oh, Wes Anderson. So quirky and charming. I think I tend to enjoy his films despite myself, and it’s possible that Moonrise Kingdom might be my favorite so far. This is due almost entirely to a crack cast that includes Bruce Willis, Edward Norton, Bill Murray, Frances McDormand, and Tilda Swinton (SWINTON). These are all seasoned professionals, and you can count on them to be perfect. Still, the movie is not about the adults, but rather about a pair of young misfits, Sam (Jared Gilman) and Suzy (Kara Hayward) who find love and understanding with each other. Both of these young actors played their parts perfectly (keep an eye out for Hayward. I’m predicting big things from her), and their romance was so refreshing when compared to most rom-coms these days, which seem to focus mainly on sex and neuroses. For Sam and Suzy, their feelings are based upon finding someone who sees and accepts them as they really are. They’re actually the sane ones in the equation when compared with their adult counterparts. Great love story, great performances, the usual fantastic look and feel of an Anderson film…I might venture so far as to call this one a “must-see.”

Capsule reviews

The Tourist (2010)

I finally got around to seeing The Tourist recently. I scoffed at the concept early on, but decided it looked like it could be entertaining, and that I liked Angelina Jolie and Paul Bettany enough to give it a try. Let me tell you: that was a mistake. This movie is astonishingly dull. Despite boasting a good cast and having a somewhat promising premise, there’s just nothing going on here. Johnny Depp stars as Frank, a milquetoast math teacher, dragged by international woman of mystery Elise (Jolie) into a world of intrigue. Bettany and Timothy Dalton are British agents seeking to bring down Elise and her elusive lover, whom they believe to be Frank. You’d expect a comedy of errors, some great action sequences, and an explosive ending, possibly with a twist of some kind. Instead you get Depp mumbling, Jolie struggling with an accent that has somehow deteriorated since Tomb Raider, and Bettany and Dalton looking appropriately embarrassed to be involved in the whole thing. There are very few laughs, and only a few, weak action sequences. Ok, ok, so there is a twist; by the time you reach it, though, you’ll find you never really cared. I’m really not sure the last time I’ve been so very bored by a movie. I really do think it had promise, but The Tourist somehow falls flat.

Despicable Me (2010)

Initially, I had very little interest in Despicable Me. Animated features aren’t really my bag, and neither is Steve Carell. However, word of mouth was really great, so it got an add to the Netflix queue. In contrast to The Tourist, this addition was not a mistake. Carell stars as Gru, an “aging” villain who is determined to bring off one last heist that will assure his place in history. When he adopts three adorable orphans, Margo, Edith, and Agnes, as part of a plan to steal a shrink ray from a rival villain, Vector (voiced by Jason Segel), he finds his priorities altered. This movie is laugh-out-loud funny. It does a great job of balancing simple humor with more sophisticated jokes for the parents, and doesn’t overdo its ultimately warm and fuzzy message. While it may suffer from comparisons to The Incredibles (Syndrome is a much better villain than Vector, for one thing), it is different enough to stand strong on its own. Naturally, we can expect a sequel sometime this year, so if you haven’t seen the original, I’d suggest doing that. Whether or not I will tune in for more of Gru, the girls, and their little yellow minions (alternately hilarious and annoying) remains to be seen, but that has more to do with my dislike of sequels than my enjoyment with this first installment.

Review: Skyfall (2012)

2012 was James Bond’s cinematic golden anniversary. Dr. No, the first James Bond film, was released in 1962. For a film franchise to last 50 years seems no small feat: Bond has had to morph through various actors and through changing times to remain relevant in today’s entertainment sphere. Naturally, there have been successes and failures along the way, but audiences still seem fascinated with the British super-spy. With the twenty-third entry into the series, Skyfall, Bond once again finds himself struggling, not only against a shadowy enemy, but also against the passage of time. It’s not much a spoiler to say that, as usual, he comes out on top.

After losing an encrypted hard drive containing sensitive information, and being shot and “killed,” Bond returns to help out his superior, M (Judi Dench), who is under attack, both from the unknown terrorist who has stolen the drive and from her government, who believe her to be obsolete. Under the watchful eye of Gareth Mallory (Ralph Fiennes), a bureaucrat brought in to “transition” M out of office, M and Bond must work together to discover the identity of their enemy, who has destroyed MI6 headquarters and is using the information on the hard drive to out agents embedded in terrorist organizations. After a few adventures in exotic locations, Bond meets Severine (Bérénice Marlohe), an exotic beauty who naturally falls for Bond and leads him to his quarry: a former MI6 agent named Raul Silva (Javier Bardem). Silva has a personal vendetta against M, and has well-laid plans in place to provide him with a chance to take his revenge. Ultimately, Bond and M make a run for it and force a final showdown with Silva.

Skyfall, unlike its predecessor Quantum of Solace, feels like a natural continuation of Casino Royale both in style and substance. Directed by Sam Mendes, the film loses nothing in terms of action sequences and fancy camera-work to provide us with the stylish look we’ve come to expect from Bond in general, and from Daniel Craig’s tenure in particular. While the plot is straightforward Bond (we’ve seen turned agents before), the themes explored within the plot make Skyfall a thinking man’s action flick. Not only is there the reality of Silva’s gripe with his former boss, there is also the continued idea of MI6′s obsolescence in the twenty-first century. Bond is aging, and he doesn’t bounce back from his brush with death as well as he once did. M’s methods are questioned, and the very notion of what constitutes national security seems to be changing along with technology and society. That these themes make an appearance in an action film at all is unusual, and it’s a testament to the actors in the film that the finished product is a seamless and stylish entertainment.

Did you get a load of that cast? Daniel Craig continues to redefine Bond as a thug with a heart, and Skyfall provides us with more insight into what makes him tick. Judi Dench has been impeccable throughout her time as M (17 years!), but for her as well, Skyfall offers an opportunity to expand her range and show us what she’s really made of. Ralph Fiennes’ appearance classes up the place a little, and Naomie Harris and Berenice Marlohe (as the requisite Bond girls) actually show a bit more depth than many of their predecessors as well. I was skeptical of another new addition: Ben Whishaw as Q. The re-introduction of the Quartermaster as a baby-faced computer geek seemed a bit gimmicky to me, but it fit into the broader theme very well, and Whishaw’s interactions with Craig are some of the most entertaining of the film.

And then…there’s Silva. Javier Bardem is nothing short of a revelation. If anyone would like to argue his status as the best Bond villain ever, please apply within. Silva takes all of the components of effective villains past, and combines them all into one riveting, creepy package. He’s efficient (not one of those bumbling baddies), cold-blooded, brilliant, and more than a little insane. Ultimately, though, what makes him fascinating is that his motives are realistic. Instead of a bad guy who wants world domination, or just wants to destroy everything, Silva is actually sort of relatable. His experiences tie into the government’s issues with the operations of MI6, and shine a light on the complicated relationship between an agent and his superior. Bond himself could easily end up in a similar position, were he made of different stuff. Ultimately, Skyfall is about the connection between Bond and M, explored through the catalyst of Silva himself. It’s hard to say whether or not another actor could have accomplished all of that, but Bardem manages to create a fully-developed character who is, if not exactly sympathetic, at least somewhat understandable, and certainly more realistic than most Bond villains.

I had a conversation recently with a die-hard Bond fan, about who our favorites were, and such. After seeing Skyfall, I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s not really valid to compare Connery to Craig, especially with regard to the movies themselves. They’re so clearly the products of different eras: the early Bond films were often campy and unrealistic, while the later films, particularly Casino Royale and Skyfall, have been rooted in the more gritty and practical film-making of today. The action sequences still strain belief, they still take place in a world very different from our own in terms of glamour and intrigue, but for the most part, they take place in the “real world”. All of this is to say that for me, Skyfall may very well be the best (so far) of the Bond films, but I hesitate to call it a “Bond film.” It’s so far removed from the earlier aesthetic and feel of a Bond movie that it feels like something almost entirely different. It’s a superior movie that happens to be about James Bond, and as a fiftieth anniversary gift, I’d say it’s worth its weight in gold.

Review: Les Miserables (2012)

Translating a stage musical (let alone a wildly popular one) into a screen musical can’t be an easy task. There are all the issues of how faithful an adaptation one wants to make, and the use of Hollywood actors versus stage actors, and a myriad other questions that ultimately won’t matter because half of your audience is going to think you ruined the show, regardless of how hard you work at it or how well the other half thinks you’ve done. Tom Hooper took on all those challenges in bringing Les Miserables to the screen. He apparently chose to adhere very faithfully to the original show, albeit with some necessary cuts here and there. He opted for mostly known actors. And, to up the ante, he decided to film the singing live, as opposed to working with a pre-recorded soundtrack, in an effort to bring a new level of introspection and personality to the characters. Predictably, it’s proving to be a polarizing film in many ways.

Les Miserables tells the story of Jean Valjean (Hugh Jackman), a released French convict who breaks parole in order to start a new life for himself. He’s become the well-respected mayor of a small town, but he finds his steps dogged nonetheless by Inspector Javert (Russell Crowe), whose single-minded purpose is to bring Valjean to justice. When another man is captured in his place, Valjean comes forward, and must flee from Javert, even while he attempts to fulfill a promise to a dying fallen woman. Fantine (Anne Hathaway) has lost everything in attempting to care for her daughter Cosette, and Valjean promises to retrieve the girl and raise her as his own. To do this he must not only dodge Javert, but also deal with the Thenardiers (Sacha Baron Cohen and Helena Bonham Carter), crooked innkeepers who have been looking after Cosette. Valjean manages to settle down quietly with his new charge for many years, but on the eve of the 1832 Paris Uprising, everything comes to a head. Javert is back on Valjean’s scent, and to complicate matters, Cosette, now a young woman (Amanda Seyfried), has fallen in love with Marius (Eddie Redmayne), a young revolutionary. The second act deals with the failed revolution and its aftermath, in which many will die, and some few will find a happy ending.

Les Mis is an intense experience. It’s almost entirely sung, and well, the title translates to “the miserable.” It’s not a happy story for the most part. The music, however, is transcendent and makes the whole thing utterly worthwhile. To take that music and attach it to a big-screen film is a heady experience. The film, while not always beautiful, is visually stunning and sticks close to all of the iconic images that fans of the musical expect. There are, of course, technical complaints about the camerawork, particularly with regard to the practice of extreme close-ups during big solo numbers. I myself didn’t take issue with this, but I can see where it could be annoying to others. My main interest in a dramatic film is typically the acting, and since the camerawork was designed to heighten the performances, it worked for me. More problematic in my opinion was the heavy use of green-screen. It’s an epic show, and a few huge set-pieces and sweeping panoramas are not out of scope. I only wish they’d been slightly more realistic. However. Let’s get back to the performances.

With an oft-performed show like Les Miserables, it is to be expected that every single production will be different. Every actor has his or her own interpretation of the role, and every actor brings his or her own set of limitations. I found the performances across the board to be excellent. Much has been made of the performances of Jackman and Hathaway, and for the most part, the praise is deserved. Hathaway in particular maximizes her time on-screen and puts everything she has into the tragic role of Fantine. Because she has a smaller role, she is more able to find the right balance of melodrama and subtlety required. Similarly, the roles of Marius and Cosette and the Thenardiers don’t require a great deal of range, and as such Seyfried, Redmayne, Cohen, and Carter do a fine job. Samantha Barks (the lone stage actor) as Eponine, Aaron Tveit as Enjolras, and Daniel Huttlestone as Gavroche are also worthy of mention, and provide some of the best singing.

Because of the size of their roles, Jackman and Crowe seem to have a much more difficult task in bringing the characters of Valjean and Javert to the screen. Jackman, of course, is an accomplished stage performer and was the only suitable option for the role of Valjean; I would argue that the same is true of Crowe. They seem to have chosen two different approaches to their roles here, with varying success. Jackman sinks his teeth into his musical numbers and nails them, but I found his acting to be a little too melodramatic and unnatural at times. It’s as though you can see the work he’s putting in. Crowe, on the other hand, gives a much more subtle performance. He does not have as robust a singing voice as might be wanted, and so his interpretation of the character of Javert is much quieter and introspective. Although it is a slightly different take on the character, I found it to be no less enjoyable or effective. It was an appropriate decision given his vocal abilities, and his acting is such that he carries it off well, if a bit too understated for the musical genre. His is the most natural and nuanced performance of the film.

While there are things that could be criticized (the afore-mentioned cinematography, a certain awkwardness of transition sequences, a few slow moments here and there), the overall effect is exactly what a fan of the musical would hope for. The decision to sing live, I think, paid off for the film as a whole, and for most of the cast (Crowe perhaps being the exception). It’s a much less polished sound that one would expect, but it fits so well with the story and its themes. Les Mis is a strange entry into the genre: the story (based on the novel by Victor Hugo) is highly dramatic and character-driven; characteristics that do not necessarily lend themselves well to the bombast and spectacle of a stage musical. What Hooper and his actors have tried to do here is bring the focus back around to the individuals and their lives. It makes the film somewhat uneven overall, but ultimately extremely satisfying.

Review: The Fall (2006)

I am of the opinion that nearly everyone needs a little more Lee Pace in their lives. I know I do. How is this guy not hugely famous? Where’s his superhero vehicle? Maybe he’ll finally have a true breakout when he hits theaters in The Hobbit movies. He’s also in (sigh) the final installment of the Twilight franchise? I don’t know much about that. Anyway. If you are looking for a little Lee Pace in your life, and aren’t particularly interested in him playing a vampire, you could do worse than to check out 2006′s The Fall. You could do better (see: Miss Pettigrew Lives for a Day), but hey, maybe you’ve already seen that one.

Alexandria (Catinca Untaru) is a little girl with a broken arm. She spends her days puttering around the hospital, befriending everyone from the man who drives the ice truck to her favorite nurse, Nurse Evelyn. One day, she chances to meet a fellow patient named Roy (Lee Pace). He is, apparently, paralyzed from the waist down, having suffered an injury whilst performing stunts for motion pictures. Roy seems lonely, and he draws Alexandria in with an epic story of a band of heroes who seek revenge against an evil governor who has made their lives miserable. Eventually the lines between reality and fiction blur, and we realize that Roy has a shattering ulterior motive.

In some ways, The Fall sounds better on “paper” than it appears on film. Reality and the story that Roy tells Alexandria are woven together convincingly, but some of the details get muddled in the back-and-forth motion. Additionally, one must be paying fairly close attention to really pick up on the realities of Roy’s situation; although things do eventually become clear, there are still aspects of the narrative that could have been described more simply, or perhaps even left out without any real loss. The acting is also somewhat inconsistent. Pace and Untaru have a good rapport, and are both very convincing in the “real-life” portion of things, but when Pace’s character steps into the story world, he’s a little awkward, which I suppose could be the point. All of the other characters are fairly minor, and don’t have much time to shine one way or the other.

The main reason to see this movie (unless you really do need more Lee Pace in your life) is for the visuals. The Fall is stunningly gorgeous; sometimes distractingly so. It’s directed by Tarsem Singh, who has become known for films that are more about looks than plot or acting. Within the story world, his usual of vast landscapes, architectural oddity, and super-saturated colors are truly breathtaking. The real world has not been dulled down to heighten the contrast, either, which I appreciate. No detail is too small to be over-looked; keep your eyes peeled for aspects of the real world that get used in the story world-it’s an interesting and entertaining endeavor.

My theory about why Lee Pace is not more famous than he is has to do with this movie. Had it been more successful and accessible, I think he would be a bigger name now. But, the film is more of an oddity than anything else, and so it is not something that a lot of people are likely to see. It has a great deal of merit, but it’s hard to really recommend it overall. It’s visually interesting, has some very dramatic moments, and was mainly enjoyable to watch, but it lacks something. I’m not sure what exactly, but it misses the mark in terms of being a truly compelling film.

Review: Double Indemnity (1944)

You have to hand it to a movie in which the main characters are so unlikable, nobody wanted to play them. Such is the case with Double Indemnity, number 38 on the AFI 100 List, and the first piece of film noir we’ve encountered so far. Starring Fred MacMurray, Barbara Stanwyck, and Edward G. Robinson, Double Indemnity is a stylish piece of work that undoubtedly stood out in the 1940s for its callous protagonists.

MacMurray stars as Walter Neff, a jaded insurance salesman. On a routine call to renew an auto policy, Neff becomes interested in Phyllis Dietrichson (Stanwyck), who quickly tries to involve him in a scheme to murder her husband and collect insurance money. It is Neff himself who plans and orchestrates the entire enterprise, even though he knows that Inspector Keyes (Robinson), the claims adjuster for his company, has an uncanny knack for uncovering phony claims. As the story unfolds, Neff and Phyllis become suspicious of each other, and their relationship spirals out of control. The film opens with an injured Neff leaving a memo of his confession for Keyes, so the audience knows right away that there will be no happy endings.

This is a very intense film. Even though there is no real mystery involved (I always thought that mystery was a key component of noir), the audience is drawn into the increasingly tangled web that Neff and Phyllis have spun for themselves, and we watch with a sort of morbid anticipation for what will happen next. The script, adapted by Raymond Chandler and director Billy Wilder from the novel by James M. Cain, is lean, mean, and lightning-fast. The cinematography is fascinatingly dark, with tight shots that add dramatically to the tension. The movie feels very modern in some ways, not least of which is the coldly fascinating characterization of its leads.

Neff and Phyllis are, indeed, extremely unlikable. From the very beginning, Neff is cynical and somewhat crude, and Phyllis is obviously sly and conniving. When they first enter into a romance with one another, there is a somewhat disturbing lack of passion or interest: their relationship seems conducted merely out of boredom and intrigue. As their plans unfold, they seem to lose interest in one another, with Neff focused on getting away with the thing, and Phyllis making her own plans. Neither shows the slightest hesitation or remorse for what they are doing. Both Stanwyck and MacMurray are impressive in these roles; MacMurray’s deadpan narration truly adds to his character’s lack of spirit, and Stanwyck plays the femme fatale as a woman for whom it is too easy to use her sex to get what she wants. On the other hand, Robinson’s Inspector Keyes is a blustering, affable little chap, and it gives one pause to consider the ease with which his mind is able to understand the lengths of depravity to which others might go. Ultimately, he is the hero of the piece, but his good-guy qualities are effectively overshadowed by the disturbing nature of Neff as villain. He really is a sociopath. As much as it is Phyllis who instigates the plot, it is Neff who performs every function with no notable emotion whatsoever. This would be “normal” in other situations involving criminals, but since Neff starts out as nothing more than an insurance salesman, his calm descent is even more unnerving.

All in all, a fascinating film. From start to finish it is a taut, dramatic piece of work, with very little extraneous content. Double Indemnity is apparently held up as a prime example of film noir, and has influenced many films that followed it. Without knowing a great deal about the genre, I would say that there is a definite feel to the movie, exemplified by the dark cinematography, angular camera work, and the emotional distance of its characters. At various points throughout, I found myself questioning whether or not I thought the acting was good, or whether or not the plot had gotten confusing, but in the end, it all seemed to fall into place so neatly that one must acknowledge the the whole is greater than its parts, and that the film, unusual for its time, stands up against films of today that may go further, but do not capture so effectively the sometimes ugly nature of humanity.

Review: Frost/Nixon (2008)

Have you ever wondered what would happen if you amassed a cast full of excellent character actors and made a movie with them? Well, look no further than 2008′s Frost/Nixon. Led by the superb Frank Langella, this dramatization of the post-Watergate interviews between British television personality David Frost (Michael Sheen) and Richard Nixon (Langella) is an extremely well-constructed film in every way, but of course it is the acting that stands out.

David Frost is a British media personality, a playboy who spends his time interviewing celebrities and living the good life. After the American Watergate scandal and President Nixon’s subsequent resignation, he takes it into his head to conduct a series of interviews with the disgraced politician, hoping for huge ratings and a major payoff. He assembles a crack team of researchers (Matthew Macfadyen, Oliver Platt, Sam Rockwell: seriously, that’s enough reason to see the movie right there) and actually manages to get Nixon himself on board, for a tidy sum, of course. The hard work remains to be done, however; while Frost is trying to gain network backing and financial support, his team is trying to construct hard-hitting questions while balancing their own varied agendas. Meanwhile, on the President’s side, his Chief of Staff, Jack Brennan (Kevin Bacon) attempts to maintain control of the situation in the hopes of creating positive spin for Nixon and clearing the way for some kind of political future. Ultimately, Frost finds damning evidence against Nixon and the interview essentially closes the door on his political career.

Despite knowing very little about the whole Watergate scandal (I know, I’m a bad American), this was a fascinating film. I’m not generally a fan of movies where people just sit around and talk, but the performances in this case were by and large so compelling as to make a movie about putting together an interview really interesting. Perhaps unsurprisingly, the movie is based upon a play by Peter Morgan, but unlike many plays-turned-films, this one manages to hide its roots. There are plenty of scene changes and locations that can be utilized, and Director Ron Howard does a great job of keeping things moving without getting bogged down in details. And there are a lot of details. One flaw of the film is that it does assume a certain amount of knowledge of the real-life events being discussed, and I definitely found myself lost a few times.

Still, plays-turned-films are always about the acting, and this one is no slouch. The supporting cast, as mentioned previously but also including Toby Jones and Rebecca Hall, all bring their A-game. Kevin Bacon in particular is truly great, while Oliver Platt and Sam Rockwell are always so much fun to watch. Without knowing a lot about the real David Frost, I think that Michael Sheen does good work in showing us the dynamics of his character: he changes from thinking the experience will be a lark to nearly giving up to finding some motivation to make something special happen. Still, for reasons I can’t put my finger on, I didn’t find his performance completely convincing. Perhaps that is how we are meant to react, given his opponent on the field: Langella as Nixon. Frank Langella may be the reigning god of character actors. One can only imagine the pressure to portray someone as iconic as Richard Nixon, who still looms large in current memory. Before watching the film I remember thinking “Langella as Nixon? If you say so. He looks more like Reagan.” While his looks are perhaps not completely perfect, he still manages to capture the person with great skill. We see so many sides of Nixon, and while he’s really sort of the villain of the piece, he is ultimately a sympathetic character in Langella’s hands; he did what he believed was best to do, but he understands what it has cost him and has the grace to move on.

Again, I’m not generally a fan of movies with more talk than action, but this is a fine piece of work. The cinematography and costuming deserve mention for providing a very authentic feel to the movie, and Ron Howard’s direction is very keen and insightful. Frost/Nixon definitely feels like a Howard movie: it’s very character-driven and human. We learn as much about Frost and Nixon from watching how they approach the interview as we do from seeing the event itself. I don’t recall any scenes that did not serve to strengthen the characters and provide us with some extra detail of their personalities. Dramatic without being over-the-top, amusing at times, intelligent and above all, professionally crafted. What happens when you construct a cast entirely of character actors? In the case of Frost/Nixon, you get an extremely worthwhile film.