Venus (2006)

How about instead of giving you a plot description, I direct you to the trailer? That's okay, you can watch it. I'll wait.

No, seriously, go ahead.

All done? So you're thinking, what, sweet little comedy about an unlikely friendship between an older man and a younger woman? With the pom POM on the soundtrack, and the "I'm nice to her," and the Corinne Bailey Rae encouraging us to tell her our favourite song and let our hair down? And maybe he helps her develop a little self-esteem, so she can come to the point where she self-identifies as Venus, Roman goddess of love and beauty?

You're not going to see that movie. You might want to see that movie, and I certainly did, given that I've see the trailer the last three or four times I've been to the Bytowne. Unfortunately, that movie does not exist. All those scenes exist in this movie, to be sure, and there really is a scene set to "Put Your Records On."

If you make the mistake of screening this movie, however, you will be treated to an unnerving experience about one elderly gentleman's sexual obsession with his friend's niece, a wretched woman with no self-esteem who uses the old man's attraction to manipulate him every chance she gets. It's disgusting and awful, and I feel kind of sorry for Jodie Whittaker to be "introduced" in such a role. To her credit, she does a great job with the physicality of the role, wonderfully conveying how uncomfortable in her own skin Jessie is, but the script has this minor problem: by the end, there's really no redeeming Jessie. She turns around too late for the audience to do anything save despise her.

Despite the characterization of Jessie, the movie has two even greater flaws. The first is the way it gives you glimpses of another, better movie, one about a bunch of formerly successful actors now going about the day-to-day of business of being old: relegated to the sidelines, trading pills over morning coffee, discussing obits. There seems to be a bittersweet comedy in there about aging and fame, but we don't get to see it. Leslie Phillips, Vanessa Redgrave, and Richard Griffiths are all delightful distractions from the A plot. Too bad there's not enough of them to go around.

The second of these flaws is also the movie's other saving grace: Peter O'Toole's fantastically honest performance as Maurice. He's lyrical as a man accustomed to having any woman he wants and finding his latest attempt unmoved. But it doesn't last. Nothing good in this movie lasts for nearly as long as it should and that which we do not wish to see goes on and on and on.

I suppose I should take that as a comment on life, but I very much doubt that director Roger Michell and writer Hanif Kureishi had that in mind. C-

Three is a Magic Number

Feria Films is turned three yesterday. Today is the anniversary of my first review. We've had some highs and some lows, but nothing's really changed, has it? I just keep seeing movies and telling you about them. I'm no more qualified than I was when I started, but I show up. I show up at the theatre, and I sit back down here. I suppose that's all the qualification I need.

Last summer, a lovely young man asked me for a Feria Films Top 10. It took me a while to figure out what that would mean (within a genre? within a given time period? ever?). I settled on "personally." Below is an excerpt from that list:

Before Sunrise and Before Sunset (Collective grade: A)
I know that they are two movies, but I can hardly think of one without the other, much less talk about them separately. Despite all the romances I write about and see, it is these two that best represent both the ecstasy of falling in love and the exquisite pain of losing that love.

Rushmore (Grade: A+)
The more I see this movie, the more I get out of it. Wes Anderson has such a great talent for creating little worlds that are just a slight horizontal shift from our own, for suspending our disbelief with grace and wit, and for attention to detail.

The Yards (Grade: A -)
You must have guessed that I would put at least one Joaquin Phoenix movie on the list. It was a tough call, and my joy over the commercials for Gladiator or my purchases of Inventing the Abbotts , Walk the Line, or Quills doesn't exactly suggest it's the right one. Still, despite the talent he is surrounded by, he owns this movie start to finish, and that final sequence, sitting alone in his car, patiently waiting . . . that's what great cinema's about.

Sin City (Grade: A+)
I love this movie. I love it to the point where I watch it, I watch it again, and then I get up the next day to watch it some more.

Brokeback Mountain (Grade: A+)
Again, tough choice: this time it was choosing an Ang Lee picture. It's not even the only one I own, but I think it's his best work to date. He treats the physical relationship between Ennis and Jack almost reverentially, and that's part of the appeal. Lee is telling a powerful love story, and he brings more humanity to it than any other director could ever dream of doing.

Pop Culture Round-Up IX

Exciting stuff! I'm sure most of the choices will be pretty obvious in the end, but it's fun to see what they've come up with.

Holy shit! Not just a reason to live, but a reason to tune back into CSI . I love Liev.

V. useful in awards season. I just wish they'd put one of these together more often.

A sweet tribute. The writing is a touch off, but it's nice nonetheless.

What? No Teen Wolf? Pfft.

And I thought the Academy didn't like Canadians. An interesting perspective.

This Galaxy of Fame is laugh out loud funny. I know you might think that I do that a lot, but I usually stifle it at work. Not possible with this one.

Scott Baio probes the Hollywood dating labyrinth. I really want this book now.

I saw . . . this: Part 5

Because sometimes, I watch movies.

The Odd Couple (1968)

It's pretty funny, and I have had Neal Hefti's score stuck in my head for days. It wasn't, however, as funny as I expected it to be. It's a shame to have high expectations sometimes. And, I feel I really must tell you, Jack Lemmon is a lot funnier than Walter Matthau. Still, it's a pretty good way to spend an afternoon.

The Red Shoes (1948)

A little slow to start and a little too much of the romance happens off screen for my taste, but this take on the Hans Christian Anderson fairy tale is fantastic. Moira Shearer is wonderful as a ballerina caught between her composer and her director. The ballet sequences are beautifully staged and filmed. A delightful and daring picture.

Ninotchka (1939)

"Garbo laughs!" And so will you! No, seriously. Like the above, it's a little slow to start, and Garbo's Ninotchka is downright harsh when she first appears. But she's soon charmed by Paris, as I was by the picture. It's on the ridiculous side, but what screwball comedy isn't?

Ryan Gosling, people!

Yesterday I warned Em (either during Heroes or 24, both of which were awesome last night) that I might spend most of today pissed off. Pissed off at the Academy for their poor choices in nominations. And when I caught sight of the Best Picture nods, I felt a certain tightness in my throat. Because I am at work, I had to restrain myself from yelling, "WHERE THE FUCK IS CHILDREN OF MEN?" I pretty much guessed it wouldn't be there, but still. I wanted it to be there.

But then, people. But then. I took a good long look at Performance by an actor in a leading role, and something strange happened. I let out a startled laugh. Then I started to clap. Ryan Gosling has been nominated for Half Nelson. I'm not too sure about his chances to win . . . but I can't stop smiling. It's so right. So called for. So what I want to see.

When I hit Performance by an actress in a supporting role, I had to do it all again. Rinko Kikucki and Abigail Breslin? Bearing in mind that I haven't taken a complete leave of my senses, and that I am, in point of fact, aware that I was not nominated for anything nor in anyway related to any sort of nomination, I found myself positively giddy again. Getting things right! It's what the Academy is (sometimes) about!

Anyway, those were the big happy surprises. Other things that pleased me include:

• Leonardo DiCaprio for Blood Diamond. I know it's sort of an obvious role and therefore, perhaps, an obvious choice, but I don't care. You forget about the accent weirdness five minutes in, and it truly is an achievement.
• Pretty much everything going on in supporting actor, especially Mark Wahlberg. Loved, loved, loved him in the role.
• Pretty much everything going on in Performance by an actress in a leading role. Again, no surprises here, but good solid choices all. That's something I can respect.
• Achievement in directing. No, I didn't really like Babel, and I can see everything going that way come February 25. The choices are, to a certain extent, obvious, but I like them. I'll be sad when Marty doesn't win. Again.
• Original Score. Now those are some nominations I can get behind.

There are some other things that I liked (e.g. any time I saw the words "Pan's Labyrinth" or "Children of Men"), but we don't have to get into that right now. What we do have to talk about, however, is the absolute lack of consideration for The Fountain in areas like art direction and visual effects. Listen, voters, I can see how you might be watching The Fountain, thinking something along the lines of, "What's going on here? What the fuck? Also, is there a plot?" Those are good questions. But regardless of linear concerns, that movie looked amazing. Truly mesmerizing. And that deserves some attention.

Pan's Labyrinth (2006)

Premise: Ofelia (Ivana Baquero) and her pregnant mother, Carmen (Ariadna Gil), move to Northern Spain at the end of the Spanish Civil War. Carmen's new husband, Capitán Vidal (Sergi L ópez), is responsible for rounding up the remaining rebels. Ofelia meets Pan (Doug Jones), a faun who charges her with three tasks she must complete in order to return to her rightful throne as the Princess of the underworld.

Now, I know what I just told you might make you think that this is a lovely little fairy tale/fantasy to which you can take the kiddies. It's rated R for many a good reason, folks. Reasons like, "horrifically violent" and "gory." I saw a 12-ish looking girl come in with her parents and remarked to one viewing partner that I couldn't believe someone had brought their kid. A grown woman got up and left at one point. I'm laying this all on now, and thick, because I feel I didn't do enough to warn my viewing companions that this movie was going to be as gory as I knew it was.

All that said, this movie is awesome. It's disturbing, and more than once did I try to climb inside my seat, but it is so good that I have no problem telling you that it is one of the best movies of the year and probably one of the better movies I have ever seen in my life. Writer-director Guillermo del Toro doesn't let you off for a second. There is no reprieve in this movie. There is general high tension only broken up by moments of slightly less tension. It's pretty much a cinematic heart attack with hallucinations thrown in for good measure.

Most of the time when I watch movies in a language I don't understand, I find it a little difficult to assess the performances. Not so here. López is positively monstrous throughout, and it is impossible not to be chilled simply by looking at him. Baquero is moving as the sensitive and driven protagonist. But it is Maribel Verdú as Mercedes, Vidal's traitorous housekeeper, that really caught my attention. Her Mercedes is as generous as she is dangerous, and, to be honest, she kicks ass. Her performance is the kind that makes you wish that you could be the character.

Javier Navarrete's score is as filled with as much imagination as Ofelia and as much menace as Vidal. Guillermo Navarro's inspired cinematography enhances the already enchanting experience.

Excellent, excellent movie. A+*

* Star because it is really, really violent. I'll may never be able to watch it again.

Pop Culture Round-Up VIII

Critics get into what goes into a Top 10. Treasure the crackpots, indeed, David.

It's about time. Now, could someone explain to me what "an overdose riddle" is?

I so love this list. Personally, I'd go with Amanda's so-called friends from Some Kind of Wonderful. Plus, James Spader is so completely awesome as Steff that I find it impossible to really hate him.

Heh. Certainly an amusing way to look at movies.

You guys? This photo gallery makes me giddy. I love dystopia on the silver screen.

The Queen (2006)

Premise: After the death of Diana, HM Queen Elizabeth II (Helen Mirren) struggles with her family's public perception, as well as to understand the public's outpouring of grief, while newly elected Prime Minister Tony Blair (Michael Sheen) attempts to seize the moment politically as well as guide the Queen into the modern political arena.

You guys, I don't really feel like reviewing this movie. After all the attention it has received, after Mirren's win last night, what's the point, really? Basically, you're thinking, is it really that good? Short answer: Yes.

Long answer: This is so stupidly obvious and done at this point, but, my goodness, people, look at Mirren go. One of the keys to Mirren's talent is the way she creates a new body language to go with each role instead of relying on actorly tics, to the point where you sort of forget that she's an actress at all instead of, well, Her Majesty. Never mind the balls it takes to play the royal currently sitting on the throne, you'd be hard pressed to come away from this film without new found respect for the Queen. By the time Mirren, director Stephen Frears (a jack of all trades, that one), and writer Peter Morgan are done with her, all your sympathy lies with the woman forced to go against decades of training for the sake of her country.

Morgan may present it as a comedy of manners, and, to a certain extent, it is, but there's an undercurrent of tragedy that kept the laughs from turning into howls. And no, I don't mean the death of Diana, although that was tragic in and of itself. I mean the way the country expected HM to turn on a dime and lay prostrate in front of them in rendered clothes with ashes on her head for an ex-HRH. To be honest, I found the public outpouring of grief a little bizarre both then and now, and good for HM to show a little restraint and respect.

Sheen doesn't seem to getting attention, which is too bad, as he had the equally difficult task of playing a now-reviled politician back when he was quite popular. And he manages to make him likable. It helped that Helen McCrory played Cherie as a shrew that I wanted to smack. Even so, I felt a twinge of sympathy for the man who was determined to "save these people from themselves" when everyone around him was happy to hand them a few more inches of rope.

My viewing partner had one complaint, which I will let her express for herself in comments, and I will move on to my one complaint: Alexandre Desplat's score was, at times, a little too whimsical for my tastes. There were moments when I half expected Mirren to wander off into Narnia or metamorphize into a woodland creature.

So, yeah, it is all that. Go see for yourself. A

Pop Culture Round-Up VII

Directors Guild Award nods.

Tim Gunn likes to talk dirty, especially about fashion.

Vote for which TV series you'd like to see again via DVD. I recommend Cupid as your first choice. And your second. You can pick your own third choice, but I'd recommend Cupid.

"He had figured out how to live without regrets." Probably not the final word on Altman but certainly a nice one.

People's Choice awards confuse me.

Huh. "Talent and work ethic," my eye. He's hot, and that's all there is to it.

Noel Murray and Scott Tobias talk about some shows you should be watching, including those that have drawn me back to NBC.

The Good German (2006)

Story: Captain Jacob Geismer (George Clooney) returns to Berlin to cover the peace conference at Potsdam at the end of WWII. His driver, Tully (Tobey Maguire), is suspicious. When Jake discovers that Tully is going around with his old girl, Lena (Cate Blanchett), it only looks all the more suspicious to Jake. By the time a body turns up at the conference, Jake's got one heck of a mystery on his hands.

The movie I saw the day after Children of Men obviously had a tough act to follow. I couldn't bring myself to turn on the TV, and popping in a DVD was out of the question. Even so, we made our way over the ye olde Bytowne.

I gotta say - this movie was a lot of fun to watch. Few directors can infuse their films with energy the way Steven Soderbergh does, and I'm pretty sure the fact that he acts as his own cinematographer and editor (under pseudonyms) has something to do with it. All that hoopla about 40s technology and imitating a more stagey style of acting is pretty soon forgotten. The film moves along at a good clip, and it's easy to enjoy.

Oh, Thomas Newman. First Little Children and now this? It's like you've been listening to my complaints. Your big, booming score recalled Bernard Herrmann in the best possible way.

I didn't write this review yesterday because I realized that beyond the above, I didn't have much else to say. I was entertained by what I saw up the screen, and I'm certain that I will enjoy seeing it a second and third time. But, to me, it's like Ocean's Eleven. It's fun and well done. Soderbergh's equally adept with that caper as he is with this noir, but it's not a heady movie. It's noir, to be sure, but it's still light. On the other hand, it's quite the feat to make a noir that isn't heavy.

Basically, it's fun and the topic can be serious, but the movie doesn't really take itself that seriously. It's a diversion in the best sense of the word. B+

Children of Men (2006)

Premise: In 2027, people have grown infertile. In Britain, chaos reigns, borders are closed, and illegal immigrants are rounded up in cages to await deportation. Theo (Clive Owen) is contacted by his ex-wife, Julian (Julianne Moore), the leader of a radical political group, to assist in the transportation of an illegal out of the country. Theo discovers that the young girl in question, Kee (Claire-Hope Ashitey), is pregnant, and he must deliver her to the Human Project in the hopes of saving both the girl and her unborn child.

Although I have yet to read the review, I understand that Dana Stevens called Children of Men the "movie of the millennium." She backtracked a bit in the Movie Club, and I have no idea why. Set twenty years in the future, director Alfonso Cuarón has created a world that is as close as tomorrow and as far away as WWII. He brings the Guernica to life, weaves T.S Eliot into the dialogue, takes time for a laugh, and never stops surprising you. He does that which every movie attempts, and, I see now, most movies fail.

As Theo, Owen plays the living embodiment of 1 Corinthians 13:13. It's so close to the chest because both the screenplay and Owen himself refuse to make Theo's motivations explicit until the very end. There's no real reason for Theo to put himself on the line like this, but he does, and it's exquisite.

A couple of those I went with last night remarked that Ashitey wasn't quite at the calibre they would have liked, but I can't say that I agree. The most extraordinary thing is happening to Kee, but it's also the most dangerous thing. She's young and not very bright, but Ashiety gives Kee the will to survive in a real and honest way. The bond Kee and Theo form is so sweet.

I could probably spend a whole day on the supporting cast, perfect as it was, but I don't want to do that. People were surprising me left, right, and centre. People I didn't think could surprise me anymore (Michael Caine), people I constantly underestimate (Chiwetel Ejiofor), people who are better than I know how to express (Julianne Moore). Pam Ferris, as the well named Miriam, was the standout for me. Miriam was a true-believer surrounded by liars and even her short monologue on her own experience could not dampen her faith and dedication.

I know it was a novel, and I know that there are five credited screenwriters, but I really have to give it up to Cuarón here. There were lighter moments, but every second of ease and tranquility meant that whole minutes of sorrow and strife would follow. Every frame of cinematographer Emmanuel Lubezki's was telling the story, every note in John Tavener's score, every location. It all adds up to Cuarón putting together something so amazingly uplifting from the ashes.

Children of Men appears to be getting shut out of major American awards, and I can't come up with words to explain how fucking stupid that is. What Owen does here is why men should win Best Actor awards. What Cuarón does here is why people should win Best Director. What happened on the screen isn't just why movies should win Best Picture awards. It's why we go to the movies. It's why we should care about what's happening in our world. It's a glimpse at the not-at-all distant future, at a world of despair, and it has the courage to tell us to take heart. Dana Stevens is right. It's not just the best picture of 2006. It's the movie of the millennium. A+

I saw . . . this: Part 4

Let's go chronologically, shall we?

Gentlemen Prefer Blondes (1953)

It helps when you don't expect much more than singing and fluffy fun. I recall an oddly long class discussion about Monroe not too long ago, and I seemed to be the only one willing to stick my neck out for her. A lot of people don't think she had the chops to do much more than be The Girl, but I disagree. I just don't think she was ever given the chance to really prove herself. Mind you, she's no Jane Russell, but the combination of Russell's earthy presence and luscious growl was the perfect contrast to Monroe's frosted perfection.

GoodFellas (1990)

I don't think I need to go into much detail here, but this is one the best movies I have ever seen. Scorsese and Liotta make it easy to see why Henry is so attracted to the lifestyle. Despite the violence, they manage to make a crew seem warm and congenial. I even teared up when everyone was there to congratulate young Henry after his first pinch. By the time they pull out the rug from under Henry, they've cut an Aristotelian tragic figure. You may have watched him sow the seeds of his own destruction, but it's too difficult not to feel sorry for him. Actually, now I kind of wish I hadn't been so hasty to mail the DVD back.

Mr. & Mrs. Smith (2005)

My dad warned me not to bother, pronouncing it a "stupid, stupid" movie. I did anyway, and I think we should add "boring" to stupid. While I appreciate that Pitt could hold his own against Jolie (and that's saying a lot), there's little between them on screen. From the stereotypical portrayals to the unnecessary "twist" to wildly anti-climatic finish, there's little of redeeming value to be found. If you're desperate to see one of these actors doing hot things hotly, I can think of a dozen other movies to recommend them.

And while we're here:

Producers Guild Award nominations.

Screen Actors Guild Award nominations.

Pop Culture Round-Up VI

Slate's Movie club's started.

 

Now, this is just stupid. Also, they were assassins not spies. Look it up.

 

I'd like to pretend that the second movie so turned me off of the series that I won't go see the third, but between a recent viewing of Ocean's 11 (which, I confess, I own) and the delightful trailer for Ocean's 13 (which gives everyone props, to its credit), I'm probably going to be catching the movie this summer. Ah, that eye roll.

25th Hour (2002)

Premise: On his last free day before a seven year prison sentence, Monty (Edward Burns) says goodbye to his dad (Brian Cox), has one last hurrah with his two best friends (Barry Pepper and Philip Seymour Hoffman), and tries to figure out if his live-in girlfriend Nat (Rosario Dawson) is reasonable for his fall.

I've read a couple of things in year-end round-ups that have celebrated the return of Spike Lee or, more specifically, the return of quality Spike Lee joints. Between Inside Man and When the Levees Broke: A Requiem in Four Acts , he's certainly had a successful and lauded year, but I found myself replying, "What about 25th Hour?"

Sure, there are a few commercial and critical failures wedged in between, but directing David Benioff's self-adapted screenplay is one of the best things Lee has ever done. I feel no shame in telling you that I love this movie. I've watched three times already, and I hope there is no end to the screenings.

The book came out pre-9/11, but under Lee's initiative Benioff rewrote what remains the clearest and most honest depiction of post-9/11 New York in a film to date (Rescue Me does the same thing on TV) . Lee weaves that reality in seamlessly with Benioff's original tale of melancholy, and it works because of the way events and emotions are allowed to inform each other in the story. It is as compelling and heartbreaking as they come.

The supporting cast is bar none with note perfect performances from Hoffman (no surprise there), Cox, Pepper (one of the best supporting actors out there), Anna Paquin, and Dawson. I like Dawson, but I'm still surprised when she really brings it in a movie. Dawson lets the way Monty's life and money have altered her bleed through Nat's every word and action. The two-step Monty and Nat are doing throughout the film is as realistic and lived-in as it comes.

O Edward Norton! Bully for me that it's time to promote The Painted Veil, which means that I read two interviews with him this morning. Is there an actor that can pack as much intensity into his wiry frame? Actually, I got to thinking this morning about how Norton and Ryan Gosling are cosmic acting twins (watch American History X and The Believer before you tell me I'm wrong), so I'd really like it if the two could star opposite each other in a movie. Maybe Norton's the good guy and Gosling's the bad guy, and maybe there's some sort of a reversal? We'll iron out the details later. I've never seen Norton do something I can't get behind (mind you, I never bothered with Death to Smoochy), and . . . well, I think this might be my favourite of his performances. Monty's got this sort of languid tiredness that fits with his depression, but Norton shows him trying to fight his way out of it in order to enjoy his last moments, as well as trying to find a way to survive once he gets there. I was already choked up twice over by the time I got to his bravura soliloquy, but Norton just had to push it a little further into a breathtaking cinematic moment that redraws the line on a love-hate relationship. And, as a bonus to me, Benioff and Lee make it a reference to my favourite part of Catcher in the Rye. And, oh, how does he do that thing with his voice when Monty finally figures out which way is up? So much hurt and betrayal!

Okay, I've got to stop with that now before I spend the rest of the day waxing rhapsodic over Norton's undeniable talent.

If I were to put together a list of American filmmakers, that being those who showcase their deep love of their country in their films, Lee would hover near the top. I suppose it's the same love-hate relationship that Monty has with New York, impossible to ignore. Much like the film. A+