I saw . . . this: Part 3

An on-going series about movies I saw, had some thoughts about, but won't be reviewing.

Sunset Boulevard (1950)

I really only knew Billy Wilder from his comedies before this, but it doesn't take that much of a leap to see what he could do with darker material. His best comedies, like The Apartment, had a dark edge to them anyway. I liked the movie well enough, but there were moments when I felt like Gloria Swanson was swinging away from truly rocking the role and into high camp. Still, it's her movie from start to finish. William Holden may be the protagonist and the narrator, but he basically has the thankless task of standing back from her whirlwind.

Splendor in the Grass (1961)

I went into this one thinking that it was one of the great teen romance movies of all time, and I turned it off wondering how in the world it got that rep. Natalie Wood and Warren Beatty do great work in their roles, particularly Wood (I can still hear her hitting all the right notes of yearning and desperation), but . . . were they kidding with this stuff? And isn't it supposed to be based on an urban legend from the town in which writer William Inge grew up? Alright, kids, here's today's take home message: go out and lose your virginity immediately because it will drive you completely crazy (Wood) or to a physical collapse (Beatty) if you don't. I get what they are doing here with ideas of growing up right and sexual repression and the whole parents-just-don't-understand thing, but this is too much. At a certain point I only kept the damn thing on because I was waiting Beatty and Wood to finally find their way back to each other, only to get a sickening feeling that they wouldn't. And then they didn't. So they went through all of that for nothing? Okay, then.

Confidential to Warren: I'll take this all back if you would just make some more movies. Thanks.

The Hours (2002)

If you take three great performances from three great actresses and toss in another tender, haunting, and dense score from minimalist Philip Glass, what do you get? An dull and dry movie, apparently. I can understand why the women in question received such accolades, but what is with this movie? On and on she goes, with no real surprises and not much in way of the character development. If we are supposed to consider it a meditation on a theme (suicide), then it failed in that regard as well. One woman doesn't end up offing herself even though she had a freaky hell-child from whom I wanted her to escape. In other plot, I simply counted the minutes until the suicide occurred. "Now? How 'bout now? Now? Oh, finally." And then that roundabout twist revealed too late into the movie that the mom walked out? How was that supposed to make me feel? Ah, well. I think, in the end, that it's more of a mood piece than anything: impossible to really see what's happening if you're not in the mood.

A Top 10 I wish was mine

For those who wonder why film criticism is important. Rarely have I read an elegiac ode to movies that is more passionate, more heartfelt, or more whip smart than what the good folks over at the AV Club have cooked up for this year's review. I've always been jealous of their ability to reduce a movie to cinders in three paragraphs, and now I have to be jealous of their ability to suffuse film criticism with imaginative joy as well.

Pop Culture Round-Up V

The kind of thing more people should be writing about. Because my ZipList isn't long enough.

Sounds like this guy knows what he's talking about. Good list.

Why didn't my school ever get on this?

These are so fun. I only got half right, mind you, but they were fun.

How embarrassing. I have seen only 5.5 of these movies.

Driving Lessons (2006)

Outline: Straight-laced mother Laura (Laura Linney) convinces her 17 year-old son Ben (Rupert Grint) to get a summer job. He takes a position as an assistant to Evie (Julie Walters), a former actress turned eccentric (don't they always?).

There's not much else to write up there without giving away all the plot points, but I will tell you that there is an affair and a road trip.

I've been reluctant to review this particular film as it is going to force me to say some things that I'd really rather not. Let's start with the good.

The good: Walters and Grint, of course. They have such a sweet and natural chemistry that it borders on miraculous when their lonely hearts find each other. Writer-director Jeremy Brock reportedly based the work on his own experience working for a Dame as a teenager. If Dame Peggy Ashcroft was anything like Evie Walton, he was lucky to have found her. Walters plays her as the kind of carefree spirit that only gets that way after a lifetime of losing that for which she cares the most, and it is hard not to get caught up in her spell as Ben does. Grint is also delightful as a young man struggling desperately against the apron strings.

Those strings, mind you, are more like a noose the way Brock has written Laura. I've long held that Linney is one of the best actress out there doing the work today, but, regardless of the accent or the blasé one-dimensionality of the character, Linney is awful in the role. I don't think it's that she's miscast because she did a similar take on suburban life and acting out a proscribed role to a much better effect in The Truman Show. Linney offers a reprehensible monster and no insight into why she needs to control Ben so desperately. I mean, what was with her always standing in the driveway waiting for him? Could she hear him shuffling along? And her final, undeserved comeuppance? What was the point, exactly?

Also, why was super-cute Bryony (Michelle Duncan) interested in Ben? Oh, you're not going to show us any of that? Thanks, Brock.

And finally, could Clive Carroll and John Renbourn have written a more ridiculous and cutesy "look at me with the piano and the hand-claps!" score? Don't get me wrong, I was initially swayed by its syncopated fun, but it wouldn't have killed them to vary the routine a little. After a while, it was grating and lent itself to negative comparisons to Tim DeLaughter's similar and superior Thumbsucker work.

Alright, small praise for Nicholas Farrell as Robert Marshall because he seemed like a nice enough guy trying to figure a way out of a bad situation, which is exactly what I thought the role should be. And nailing those tent pegs in at the end? That's parenting.

As one Bytowne mate succinctly put it, "cute but dumb." Indeed. C

Blood Diamond (2006)

Premise: During the civil war in Sierra Leone, Solomon Vendy (Djimon Hounsou) is separated from his family and taken to work in the mines. He finds a massive diamond and manages to hide it from his captors. Smuggler Danny Archer (Leonardo DiCaprio) wants the diamond in exchange for helping Solomon find his family. Journalist Maddy Bowen (Jennifer Connelly) wants Danny's story and agrees to help Solomon in the process.

Well, that was horrifying. At the beginning, there was a brief second that my mind flitted back to a comment I read a few years back as to whether there is a such a thing as a "genocide genre," but it didn't last. The movie is shockingly yet un-gratitously violent, and it's difficult to think of much else while you are watching it. To be honest, given the sheer weight of Hounsou's performance, it's nigh impossible to process any thoughts at all.

Although there is a certain paint by numbers quality to Charles Leavitt's screenplay, it's also terrifying and uplifting and ballsy. He's a writer not afraid to call his characters out on their flaws, and he's willing to push them. Perhaps his best quality as a writer, however, is his reluctance to push them too far. Too often we see characters in these do-or-die situations, with road block heaped upon outrage and yet always ready to overcome. Here the characterizations are much more mild as well as complex. Well, maybe not all of them.

There's a single-mindedness to Solomon that I am tempted to label one-dimensionality, but Hounsou embraces the role with such ferocity that I admit I cannot. Hounsou plays him as a man constantly at the tipping point, but he has the strength of mind to always bring himself back from the brink. It is an award-worthy performance and provides the film's moral centre.

DiCaprio shines as a materialist with minimal possessions. Arhcer's development is predetermined, but DiCaprio gives it such a natural feel that you can forget your misgivings. There isn't a moment were his opportunist isn't renegotiating, and he lets all that conflict show. As for the accent, it's a little odd for the first few minutes (bear in mind that it's supposed to be South African by way of Rhodesia), but you get used to it and even get to enjoy it.

Ah, Connelly. I'm starting to like you. It was nice that you could show Maddy's feelings without resorting to tears, and your lovely opaque irises demonstrate a formidable resilience in a time of crisis.

I should just come out and tell you that I love director Edward Zwick. I love the TV shows he produces, anyway. The movies he directs tend to be long and all work along the same idea, but they have an earthy, humanist quality to them that is difficult to ignore much less dislike. He takes odd casting choices and brings out a sublime quality to the performances.

Props to James Newton Howard for his hearty and dramatic score. There were a few moments that were a tad clichéd but none of them too much. Actually, that's the movie in a nutshell. A-

Golden Globes

Nominations are out. I gotta say, I'm a bit disappointed. I'm looking at some of the titles thinking, "That wasn't very good. That wasn't very good. Neither was that." What's happened to movies this year? Were they not very good?

Ah, well. There are the nods that I do appreciate: Justin Kirk, Mary Louise Parker and Weeds; Masi Oka and Heroes*; Katherine Heigl, as Izzie is my fav intern; Sarah Paulson, who is doing yeoman's work on that sad-sack show**; Kyra Sedgwick, who rocks The Closer pretty damn hard; Hugh Laurie; Keifer Sutherland and 24; the double nod for Clint Eastwood that I sort of hope will split the vote and give the award to Martin Scorsese; Rinko Kikuchi, who was the best part of Babel; Will Ferrel, even though I would call that a dramatic role; Meryl Streep and Emily Blunt for The Devil Wears Prada, even if the movie itself was not so good; any props whatsoever for Kate Winslet and Leonardo DiCaprio are fine by me.

Oh, and the lifetime achievement award going to Warren Beatty. Now if it would only convince him to come out of retirement. Le sigh. At least I have Bulworth.

*If you're not watching, you need to start.

**Which I faithfully watch every week, like an idiot.

Pop Culture Round-Up IV

Just reading this list makes my eyes well up.

National Board of Review's Top 10 of 2006 is out (already!). Too bad many of the films aren't.

Giggles. I'd like to say there was some sort of Western-centrism to this that offends me, but it's too funny to be annoyed. I would pay good money to see that.

Little Children (2006)

Idea: Depressed suburban housewife Sarah (Kate Winslet) and emasculated househusband Brad (Patrick Wilson) begin a tentative friendship that leads to an affair. Convicted sex offender Ronnie (Jackie Earle Hickey) moves back in with his mother (Phyllis Somerville) in the same neighbourhood. Larry (Noah Emmerich) becomes Brad's football buddy and obsessed with personally policing Ronnie.

It's been a while now, but I'm still not sure how I feel about this movie. Okay, that's not entirely true. I have a fairly good handle on how I feel about this movie, but I don't want to come out and say how I feel about this movie.

I know I have come out against narration in movies in the past, but I think my stance on the issue has been considered much more harsh than it really is. In certain movies, it more than works - it's necessary. It worked in, say, American Beauty because Lester, while the protagonist, was only one character, and he didn't go around telling us how everyone else felt. It was necessary for Sunset Boulevard because it was tied to the very conceit of the story - a writer telling the story of his death from beyond the grave. It works in the first Bridget Jones movie because it mimics the source material (all the events are Bridget's interpretation or memory thereof) and because it is used sparingly.

It works well here, in certain cases. Particularly for Brad's character. It's not that Wilson doesn't do a good job (because he does); it's that certain ideas and how they make Brad feel, like that bit about the jester's hat as it slowly sails to the floor, could do with a bit of exposition.

Of course, there were other times when I wanted to yell, "Shut up, Will Lyman, SHUT UP!" Again, particularly as they applied to Sarah. Winslet is an incredible actress - there isn't a fraction of a second where the exact right emotion, as well as a plethora of others, doesn't register on her face. Mind you, the idea of trying to make her plain is laughable, but that doesn't stop Winslet from putting her all into Sarah's boredom and detachment.

I get that there are difficulties in adapting a book for the screen, particularly when the director (Todd Field) works with the author of the novel (Tom Perrotta). I get that there are chunks of prose so beautiful, so rich and meaningful that it is painful to cut them. On other hand, I doubt you want your audience to waste the denouement thinking, "Really? X is surprised to find himself in this situation? This moment is meant to be, in some way, ironic? Thanks, narrator! How would I have discovered that on my own?"

Alright, leaving aside my personal vendetta against unnecessary narration, let's give credit where it is due. Hickey was both scary and incredibly sad. It takes confidence to return to the screen after more than a decade of absence to this kind of role, and he does it will aplomb. Jennifer Connelly, who I never thought much of in the past, dazzled me with her mincing gaze. Thomas Newman, whom I have railed against, wrote a score than is sparse but elegant, working with the natural sounds of the neighbourhood (particularly the train that rolls through town) instead of another Shawshank rip-off.

And, finally, Field. Let us marvel at his talent - his ability to get inside of people's emotions and insecurities and present them in a way that feels fresh and honest. His exploration of grief in In the Bedroom was heavy without being heavy-handed, and now, examining the causes and short-term consequences of infidelity (of all sorts), he creates an intelligent and wholly believable world littered with the debris of the everyday.

But Madame Bovary at the book club? Come! On! At least Winslet got an amazing line out of it. B+

Deliver Us from Evil (2006)

Focus: Victims and their families share their stories of abuse and the difficulties they have had rebuilding their lives as writer-director Amy Berg recreates the timeline of when Oliver O'Grady was first accused of molesting a child, the years the Catholic Church spent shuffling him around from one small-town California parish to another as he sexually abused untold numbers of children, and his arrest nearly three decades later.

It's tough to separate the subject matter from the documentary. I am in awe of the courage it took Anne, Nancy, Adam, and their parents to participate in this feature. Their interviews are gut-wrenchingly honest. None are more heartbreaking than the interviews with the parents, particular with Bob and Maria, Anne's parents. It's horrifying what they all went through, and the bravery that it takes for these parents to face the camera and admit the extent to which they were duped and the extent to which they blamed themselves is beyond noble. If I went in for that sort of thing, I'd call for them to be elevated to the realm of saints.

That said, and truly meant, Berg's not the best director. She lines up an erudite and articulate group of experts, and they do a very good job of illuminating the situation from both perspectives. That she gets O'Grady to walk her through everything that happened (he's roaming free back in Ireland, just so you know) is a testament to her power as a interviewer, especially given that the Church declined to comment. But the first twenty to thirty minutes of this 101 minute documentary drag, mostly because of poorly chosen clips. Berg finds her footing and send the thing humming along, but, given the highly disturbing subject, she really should have gotten the doc moving far sooner in order to prevent the audience from walking out.

Mind you, she does an incredible job of waiting for her interviewees to tell the real story.

Still, I find myself wishing that I had seen the movie promised by the trailer, a doc so powerful it dared you to ignore it, all set to Johnny Cash's cover of "God's Gonna Cut You Down."* Even so, it is all but impossible to overlook. A-

*Okay, perhaps I would have been placated if the song had appeared in the film.

Pop Culture Round-Up III

EW hits the spot with their celebrity endorsement photo gallery. Too bad they missed the Revlon/Robert Altman matchup.

Congratulations, Ryan! And Half Nelson generally! And also Little Miss Sunshine.

Should I be alarmed by how many of these I have seen?

About this list: There are movies that I think are overrated on there, movies that I think understand why other people think are overrated, but some of them were complete surprises. I mean, of all time? Are people still talking about, much less watching and having strong reactions to Chariots of Fire? Good Will Hunting? Being overrated at the time and being cannon and overrated aren't really the same thing, Premiere.