Sideways

Sideways (2004)

It's RE-view time! To remind you of the rules: I see the movie in the theatre; I see it again on DVD. No plot description and no holds barred on what I may mention for that movie's plot.

While no movie is ever perfect, this movie is the closest offering from last year. Last year, unlike the others between it and my beloved 2000, was an amazing year for movies. Movies were wonderful to watch last year.

As I was watching it this time, I kept trying to put my finger on what makes it so good besides the obvious. Outside of the quality of the actors, the direction, the script, the setting.

The scene that kills me, the scene that breaks my heart and sends it soaring, occurs when Miles and Maya discuss what got them into wine. When he starts to describe the pinot grape as "thin-skinned, temperamental, ripens early," it's as "haunting and brilliant and thrilling and subtle" as the wine he so loves. And then, with the same question, Maya pushes the bounds with how "a bottle of wine is actually alive. And it's constantly evolving and gaining complexity. That is, until it peaks, like your '61. And then it begins its steady, inevitable decline." Chilling and uplifting.

The true triumph of Alexander Payne's latest offering, that which sets it apart from Election and About Schimdt, is that is isn't a mood piece. You need to be in the right frame of mind to find Election hilarious. If you're not there, the movie seems tedious.

With this film, though, you don't have to been in the mood to be amused. You just to watch. The movie will get to you. It's inevitable. It is haunting and brilliant and thrilling and subtle and alive and constantly evolving and gaining complexity as any one piece of time (thanks, JS!) can be.

Plus, I like that it makes me compare Miles' wine snobbery to my alleged movie snobbery. It's not as though I refer to myself as a cineast. I can't even spell cineast.

Although Miles is clearly an alcoholic, the oenophile in him is drawn not to the bottle but to the single mouthful - he's seduced by its colour, clarity, viscosity, and scent long before the wine hits his lips. I'm a junkie for film, but the cineaphile (if I may be so bold as to use that word) in me is drawn to the single scene, the perfect line reading.

Towards the end of the movie, as Miles is bidding Jack so long until the rehearsal dinner, Miles turns back to Jack to get their stories straight.

Miles: Uh, wait a minute, wait a minute. How come I wasn't hurt?
Jack: (throws arm up casually) You were wearing your seat belt.

Perfect, perfect scene. Jack doesn't even pause in his reply, and Miles starts to chuckle softly at the simplicity of Jack's scheme as he heads back to his car. It's the briefest of moments, and it is in those brief moments that the audience gets to feel like they are on the inside. Not because they've just watched this whole movie but because there's an undeniably familiar quality to this one tiny moment.

That's why I'm into movies. And they just taste so good.