Movie Diary December 2005 - March 2006
3/27/06 Inside Man (Grade: 7 out of 10)
3/25/06 Don’t Come Knocking (Wim Wenders) Off the Beaten Track A dusty Western morality play
that preaches that it’s never too late to grow up, but is thrown from the
saddle by stagey, overwrought dialogue and incomprehensible behavior.
Howard Spence (Sam Shepard), a craggy, aging, vaguely discontented cowboy
actor, forsakes his amoral, bad-boy antics, goes AWOL from the set of his
latest formulaic Western, and sets out to redeem himself by re-establishing
ties with his long-neglected family. Spence seeks out his passive mother
(Eva Marie Saint), and the mother of his son, a shopworn Butte waitress
(Jessica Lange). Spence then encounters for the first time his son
(Gabriel Mann), a morose roadhouse crooner, and his daughter (Sarah Polley) by
another woman, who mopes around forlornly clutching an urn containing the
ashes of her mother. The action mostly unfolds on the empty streets of
Butte, which resembles a ghost town; despite lots of breast-beating, the
interactions of the characters pack little punch. Shepard’s background as a playwright (he
and Wenders collaborated on the screenplay) may explain the closed-in ambience
and excessive histrionics. Some spark is provided by two minor
characters: Tim Roth as an effete detective who tracks down Spence for the
movie’s completion bond insurer, and Fairuza Balk as the son’s eccentric,
colorful girlfriend. But it’s not enough. This is one journey of
self-discovery that doesn’t take us far. Trivia note: Shepard and
Lange are longtime domestic partners and have two children together.
This is their first appearance together on-screen since 1986’s Crimes of
the Heart (although Shepard directed Lange in 1988 in Far North).
According to Wenders, the couple did not work together in the interim because
they agreed that one of them should be at home with the kids at all times.
Now that the kids are grown, they are working together again. Grade: 3½ lonesome cowboys out of 10
3/17/06 V for Vendetta (click for review) Grade: 5 out of 10
3/10/06 Tsotsi (Gavin Hood)
Redemption
Think you need big stars to make a first-rate picture? Famous director? Lavish budget? Think again. Unknown Gavin Hood knocks it out of the park in this earthy South African story of a heartless, baby-faced ghetto gangster named Tsotsi (Presley Chweneyagae), who experiences a personal transformation after he becomes caretaker of his youngest victim – a tiny infant nearly orphaned when Tsotsi shoots his mother in a carjacking. There’s not even pretty scenery (though the film is skillfully shot), just the grinding poverty and corrugated tin shacks of shantytown Johannesburg, and a nuanced performance by the 21-year-old Chweneyagae that takes him from cold-blooded brutality to heart-rending tenderness, with clarity and credibility.
The supporting cast, comprised of unknown South African actors, is uniformly solid. Particularly moving are Terry Pheto as Miriam, a young mother who retains her poise when Tsotsi forces her to help him care for his unaccustomed charge, and Owen Sejake as a crippled, goggle-eyed beggar who, in a mere handful of words, shows Tsotsi that human dignity has nothing to do with one’s station in life. No, you don’t need glamor or Hollywood trappings – just a strong, clear vision and a whole lot of heart. A stunning reminder that transcendent filmmaking knows no genre.
Based on the novel of the same name by Athol Fugard. Winner of Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film of 2005.
Grade: 9 diamonds in the rough out of 10
3/8/06 Find Me Guilty (Sidney Lumet)
Family Ties
Sidney Lumet knows courtroom drama. Almost forty years ago, he directed Twelve Angry Men. He went on to make other strong, socially relevant films, including Serpico, Dog Day Afternoon and Network. Now 81, the veteran helmsman updates the courtroom genre, recounting one of the longest criminal trials in history (lasting close to two years), that of 22 New Jersey mafiosi. Lumet mixes in liberal doses of crude behavior, leading one to wonder whether he felt compelled by the seemingly insatiable appetite of the moviegoing public for sex and violence – or whether there’s an 800-pound Soprano in the room. Whatever the reason, the result is a somewhat ungainly mix of courtroom decorum and gangster hijinks. But the day is saved, for the most part, by an unusual and very effective performance by, of all people, Vin Diesel. Age-advanced to his mid-40s for the part, Diesel plays Jack DiNorscio, a self-sacrificing wiseguy (in both senses) who refuses to kowtow to governmental pressure to rat on his cohorts, and who undertakes his own courtroom defense. Diesel's winning, heartfelt performance carries the film through some uneven patches. Thanks to him and classy Peter Dinklage as Ben Klandis, a no-nonsense mob lawyer, the courtroom scenes, which constitute a good half of the film, are stronger than the action outside, which sometimes verges on slapstick. By the end, you'll be convinced of DiNorscio’s sincerity, if not his innocence. And the jury? For that, my little bandito, you’ll have to invest the nine bucks.
Grade: Seven gagsters out of ten.
2/11/06 Caché (Michael Haneke). Enigma. Georges and Anne Laurent (Daniel Auteuil and Juliette Binoche) are a thoroughly modern Parisian couple, well enmeshed in the trappings of intellectual middle-class life; he’s the host of a literary TV talk show, and she works for a publishing house. The couple’s daily routine is disrupted when they receive a series of videotapes, accompanied by crude, vaguely threatening drawings, revealing that they are under surveillance. In the absence of an overt threat, the police refuse to get involved. The Austrian director/screenwriter Haneke has a deft touch for the interactions of family life: he strips off layers of civility, as the bizarre harassment puts an increasing strain on the relationship between Georges and Anne, as well as their relation with their uncommunicative, resentful adolescent son, Pierrot (Lester Makedonsky). The affair has a particularly odd effect on Georges, who starts doing foolish, hotheaded things, like picking a fight with a young Afro-French bicyclist whom he accidentally bumps into on the street. A series of unsavory events from Georges’ childhood, involving an Algerian family that worked for Georges’ parents, seems to hold the key to the mystery; it is gradually revealed that what is unnerving Georges so is a long-standing, deep-seated sense of guilt. But the film ends abruptly, leaving the identity of the perpetrator unresolved; for various reasons, it is unlikely that any of the possible suspects is the guilty party, and there are too many loose ends. In the final scene, Haneke drops an oblique clue, but even that just serves to raise more unanswerable questions. Although the picture is executed with more than a little finesse and skill, especially in the performances of Auteuil and Binoche, consummate professionals both, Caché is more disquieting than illuminating. And that, to be sure, is exactly what Haneke intended. Grade: 6 opaque thrillers out of 10.
2/05/06 Bonnie and Clyde (click for review) (Grade: A)
1/18/06
Imagine Me and You (Ol Parker).
Taking the Plunge. Frothy, fast-paced British
romantic comedy gives “chick flick” a whole new meaning, as young wife (Piper
Perabo) "crosses the street" for plucky lesbian florist (Lena Headey), to dismay
of Perabo’s Hugh-Grant-clone husband (Matthew Goode). Cast is attractive and
repartee lively: Perabo resembles a well-scrubbed cross between J.Lo and Rosario
Dawson, and talented Headey sparkled in little-seen Aberdeen (2001).
But
the humor is sometimes cloying, and the romance facile; in such a rush to get to the
next joke or plot point that one feels jerked around, and characters are not
developed. Best character is cheeky wannabe-Lothario (Darren Boyd) with designs
on Headey, who soon realizes futility of his task, but makes the most of the
situation nonetheless. Yes, the ‘60s Turtles chestnut
Happy Together, whence title is derived,
is heard, but in service of a rote ending. Not much here to sink your teeth
into; despite the Sapphic twist, it’s a little too, uh, normal. Grade: 6
lipstick lesbians out of 10.
1/5/06 Match Point (Woody Allen). Semi-Charmed Life. A change of setting, from Allen’s usual Manhattan environs to a well-manicured London, seems to inject a breath of fresh air into this neo-Shakespearean drama of manners and deceit. Glib young tennis pro Chris Wilton (Jonathan Rhys Meyers), not content with his good fortune in landing a steadfast, adoring wife, Chloe (Emily Mortimer), whose family connections afford him a seamless entrée to the rarefied upper strata of London business and society, risks everything by embarking on a lustful, ill-advised affair with Nola (Scarlett Johansson), his brother-in-law’s flighty, ripe fiancée. Spins a deliciously tangled web, as the nervy social climber is ultimately driven by the pregnant, hysterical Nola to a desperately violent act. Successful on several levels: a story arc that steadily picks up momentum, crisp dialogue, and a peppy young cast. But Johansson’s excessive histrionics are a distraction, and bonehead moves by a couple of detectives who obviously didn’t cut their teeth at Scotland Yard take a toll on credibility. Despite the lurid subject matter, Woody’s no sensationalist : there’s no nudity, explicit sex or gore. (The scene in which Nola and Chris’s passion is first unleashed, nicely set in a pouring rainstorm in a meadow, cuts away before the pair start to disrobe.) Overall, hangs together rather well, with a gravity and an unforced quality sometimes missing in Allen’s pictures. Grade: 7.5 arrivistes out of 10.
12/20/05 Munich (Steven Spielberg). Aftermath. When the Arab terrorist group Black September kidnapped and murdered a group of Israeli athletes at the 1972 Munich Olympics, the Israeli government sought to avenge the killings by sending a team of hand-picked commandos to assassinate, one by one, the eleven leaders of Black September who planned the assault. Spielberg’s recreation of the daring, covert counter-terror campaign criss-crosses Europe and the Middle East at a frenetic pace, ratcheting up the level of intrigue and danger faced by the team as they hunt down their prey. Made with documentary-like realism, thanks in no small part to bravura cinematography by Janusz Kaminski, highlighting spectacular explosions, gory shootings, dismembered corpses, and interwoven flashbacks of the Olympic kidnappings and their disastrous dénouement. The script (by Tony Kushner and Eric Roth) has a strong political flavor, laced with soul-searching debates about whether the end justifies the means and whether such vigilante tactics are worth their moral and political costs. But the dialogue is frequently stilted, and the characters thinly drawn. One rarely forgets that these are actors, playing roles. And are we to believe that Golda Meir and Moshe Dayan conducted their summit meetings in English? At 2 3/4 hours, too long, weighted down by a coda intended to show the traumatic psychological effects of such clandestine warfare, but which comes off as nonsensical. The upshot is a cloak-and-dagger procedural no more resonant than any number we’ve already seen: suspenseful and propulsive but ultimately uninvolving. With Eric Bana as the shell-shocked commando leader and always-excellent Geoffrey Rush as a wiry, intense Mossad officer. Grade: 6 vendettas out of 10.