The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford (2007)

Premise: On one of his last heists, Jesse James (Brad Pitt) accepts Charley Ford’s (Sam Rockwell) younger brother Bob (Casey Affleck) into his gang, despite the objections of Jesse’s older brother, Frank (Sam Shepard). Winter falls and sends the gang into hibernation, where Bob’s sycophantic obsession with Jesse festers into something more sinister.

I’m just going to go come out and say it: this movie’s not for everyone. It’s slow and atmospheric, full of forbidding landscapes and weighty narration. It’s a little like being caught in dream conception of the famous outlaw and discovering it’s a nightmare from which you can’t wake up. You can only ride it out.

It’s not so much a movie as it is a wrestling match between Pitt’s Jesse and Affleck’s Bob. Every time you think you have a handle on which of the two, if anyone, is the coward, the movie shifts focus yet again to pick up another facet of the story, another part of their twin personae.

Invoking Terrence Malik on his best day, director Andrew Dominik, working from his own screen adaptation of Ron Hansen’s novel, has created a world that’s not so much murky as it is relentlessly grey. Roger Deakins’ cinematography captures the stark, cold winter landscapes and the dull, overcast days that follow the snow to great effect. The world around these men is a reflection of the internal, seemingly empty with great dark forests at the edges. Combined with Nick Cave and Warren Ellis’ circular and moody score, the movie manages to take the oppressiveness that comes with a long, cold winter and apply it to the character’s psyches.

There’s a lot of great supporting work from the aforementioned Shepard and Rockwell, as well as Jeremy Renner, Garret Dillahunt, and the thoroughly creepy Paul Schneider, but this is really the Pitt-Affleck show. Pitt has grown from the pretty boy we first met into a far different man. The first shots we see of Jesse, standing alone in a wheat field, his face looks weathered, haunted, and handsome in way it never has before. He’s both snake and snake charmer, coiling around his prey to choke the hero worship out of Bob, only to demand it back again. It’s a difficult and nuanced performance, sad and strange, one that Pitt handles with aplomb.

He’s perfectly matched in the slight, pale Affleck. From his hunched shoulders to his wheezing laugh to his shortness of breath is almost every situation, Affleck is exactly what you would expect a coward who shot his boss in the back to be without ever actually being a coward. Affleck’s Bob is perfectly aware of his actions but detached from their consequences. He’s too young to see the bigger picture, and it is in that lack of experience that Affleck soars. It’s a wonder that he can draw me in with his maturity in other roles and still make me feel sympathy for the inevitably of his immaturity here.

Meditative and heavy, aided by Hugh Ross’s insightful narration, the slow pacing in this movie will probably put a lot of people off (like, say, those that left the theatre when we were there). If you stop fighting it, though, it will draw you into its haunting embrace. A-

Pop Culture Round-Up: The Forgotten Edition

I keep forgetting to post this, but it's here now.

See? See what I mean?

"I am hoisted by my own petard!" Someone should definitely buy me Inside Inside for Christmas.

Hee! "Instead of a laser-focused obsession with revenge, violence, magic, guilt, dragons, 'papes,' or other such ephemera."

Strange piece about a strange guy. And check out this photo gallery as well.

Just so charming in interviews, I tell ya.

Adorable.

Aw! That show ruled, you guys.

Collect your picks for your Hallowe'en movie night, and learn what inspired Hostel at the same time.

Gone Baby Gone (2007)

Premise: After her three year-old niece goes missing, Beatrice McCready (Amy Madigan) hires a pair of detectives, Patrick Kenzie (Casey Affleck) and Angie Gennaro (Michelle Monaghan), to help out with the "neighbourhood aspect" of the search. Patrick and Angie encounter equal measures of difficulty in trying to get the mother, Helene (Amy Ryan), the uncle, Lionel(Titus Welliver), and the cops (Morgan Freeman, Ed Harris, and John Ashton) to cooperate until their search turns up a suspect.

Right before we got to the theatre yestereve, it turned out that we were not decided about what movie to see. One person did not want to see this movie at all, in fact. She thought it looked like a TV movie of the week. Instead, she went to see Into the Wild while the rest of us stuck to our guns. She missed out.

A tense thriller has one of two effects: 1) you feel completely drained afterwards or 2) you get an adrenaline rush from the pent up anxiety. Fall movies tend to fall into the former category, so it's a pleasant switch to see one that not only falls into the latter but is brilliant all the same.

Congratulations, Ben Affleck, on your directorial debut in a motion picture. Based on Dennis Lehane's novel, the screenplay B Affleck co-wrote with Aaron Stockard is a work of genius, managing bon mots without making them seem overwrought or out of the ordinary for the working-class characters. I got a little nervous during the opening narration (my aversion to voiceovers no secret from you, gentle reader), though it ended with one of my favourite bits of scripture. It turned out to be a clever use of voiceover, for the most part, giving us exposition while keeping the camera and the action moving forward and away from the conversation instead of forcing to sit with a bunch of talking heads. Wonderfully comfortable in a return to his own working class Boston roots, B Affleck's direction is assured and insightful, although he could stand to lay off the close-ups. Even so, this picture shows a tremendous amount of promise.

I read that Angie is based on Lehane's own wife, and I hope not for her sake. Much like with We Own the Night, the main female drew the short straw for characterization. You know that part at the end of Mystic River (another of Lehane's novels) where Laura Linney's character goes all Lady Macbeth out of nowhere? Monaghan's Angie is an extension of that moment, but it builds a lot more slowly and works within the character. Nonetheless, her tendency to jump to conclusions and her desire to pressure her partner into decisions outside of his comfort zone didn't line up with what we knew about her. And, if she was from around there, as is suggested earlier in the movie, why doesn't she have the same understanding of the neighbourhood, the people, much less the accent? As it was with Mendes, it was hard to tell if the blame should lie with the script, the direction, or the actress. I think the answer is somewhere between the three.

Freeman is good, but it's nothing we haven't seen from him before, so let's just leave it at that. Harris, on the other hand, is delightfully dangerous and explosive, in a way that I feel we don't get to see from him often enough. He's the kind of cop that toes the line only so much as he has to because he's seen enough to know when he shouldn't.

Of course the movie, naturally and entrancingly, belongs to Casey Affleck. One of the few actors who can play the maturity and wisdom that comes from experience that makes a man, Affleck owns the screen whenever he appears on it (which is pretty much always, hurrah!) making us feel the weariness that creeps into bones when one is faced with difficult decisions with no right answers. The case's many turns threaten to put his immortal soul in peril, and it's a rare actor who can make that danger resonate without seeming heavy handed or overly religious.

And be scorching hot. Just thought I should add that.

Backed by Harry Gregson-Williams' plaintive, piano-driven score, the Afflecks have delivered a tense and grim morality play. It's one of this year's best. A

Elizabeth: The Golden Age (2007)

Story: Although there is still pressure to take a husband, the Virgin Queen (Cate Blanchett) continues apace, facing rumours of assassination due to an alliance between the imprisoned Mary, Queen of Scots (Samantha Morton) and King Philip II of Spain (Jordi Mollà) and flirting with Walter Raleigh (Clive Owen). As Walsingham (Geoffrey Rush) ages and the assassination plot moves forward, Elizabeth must confront the very real threat of Holy War and the fall of England’s empire.

Once, some of us so hotly anticipated a sequel to a movie we had so thoroughly enjoyed that our enthusiasm convinced a young man who had not seen the original to attend the screening of the sequel. Sadly, that sequel was the second PotC, and the results were lamentable to say the least.

When this movie’s truly spectacular trailer started popping up, again people who had never seen the first seemed more than happy to see the second. Wanting to avoid a PotC: DMC repeat, we spent weeks tracking down the DVD of the original. We watched it, and Blanchett was just as captivating as remembered. And I completely forgot Daniel Craig’s subplot, so it was a pleasant surprise.

By the time this movie was released, the buzz wasn’t good. I haven’t read a review, mind you, but I could tell that the movie wasn’t going to be the glorious epic the trailer had promised. Far from it, as it turned out.

So I tried to keep my company’s expectations low. Unfortunately, I must not have kept my own low enough. This movie is wildly, inexplicably boring. At 114 minutes, it’s ten minutes shorter than Elizabeth: The Virgin Queen and nowhere near as good.

Blanchett displays little of the same fire and vulnerability she brought to the role nearly ten years ago. I think that was likely a conscious choice, as the first movie focused on a woman who abandoned the personal for the sake of the political and the second movie shows the consequences of that decision. Still, there’s a scene late in the movie where Elizabeth has absolutely unseemly meltdown over entirely the wrong thing, and I found myself thinking, “I don’t think Elizabeth would behave this way.” And later still, standing on that ridge in her robe, smiling at the CGI sight before her, “A little too happy.” I realize it might seem overly nit-picky for me to point these things out, but the first movie’s success is a direct result of Blanchett’s flawless performance. A single misstep has the potential to sink the ship. Even so, when she appeared before her troops in armour on a white horse, a fantastic long red wig flapping in the breeze, I thought, “Boudicca.” And really, wouldn’t that be great?

Blanchett’s ever-so-slightly wobbly performance aside, there are plenty of other elements that returning director Shekhar Kapur, returning writer Michael Hirst, and new co-writer William Nicholson manage to make thoroughly dull. The problem, at its core, is that they take on too much. Historical or not, not every plot and subplot improves the story for the viewer, and Kapur’s dreadful pacing helps not one bit.

Walsingham, as portrayed by the inestimable Rush, is the most intriguing carry-over character from the first movie, largely because he’s a mystery. We don’t know how he got that job, why he was in exile, or what motivates him. And that’s fantastic. Now he has a family and relationships. What the crap is that? Walsingham's life should be the subject of an entirely different movie not shoehorned into this mess. By taking away some of the enigma, they’ve taken away part of what made the original great.

The casting/characterization problems don’t end there. Mollà’s infantile take on Philip, scurrying around on reed thin legs, afraid of his own public, and Morton’s unhinged Mary rarely seem like worthy opponents for Elizabeth, although Morton does, oddly, find a scrap of dignity for Mary shortly before her death. Vidal Sancho, as the Spanish Ambassador, is a far more worthy antagonist even with his limited screen time. Owen (an actor so talented he can hold the audience rapt even with a sub par monologue) inexplicably has zero chemistry with either Abbie Cornish, as Elizabeth’s lady in waiting Bess, or with Blanchett. And, while I am not immune to appeal of gorgeous men in period clothes diving into bodies of water*, Kapur’s extended shot of Owen’s swim made it clear that he wouldn’t have known how to handle the battle scene even if he had had the budget to do it properly.

*Click on the right to watch and listen!

While all these flaws do make the movie boring, they also make the movie ripe fodder for a drinking game. Hey, it’s got that going for it! C-

We Own the Night (2007)

Premise: When Joseph (Mark Wahlberg) is promoted to captain and heading up the street crimes unit, he asks his brother Bobby (Joaquin Phoenix), manager of the hottest night club in Brooklyn, to keep an eye on one of his patrons, Vadim Nezhinski (Alex Veadov), the nephew of the club’s owner, Marat Buzhayev (Moni Moshonov). Bobby refuses. After Joseph is shot, Bobby appeals to their father, Deputy Police Chief Burt Grusinsky (Robert Duvall), to let him help bring Nezhinski down.

I’m surprised that this movie didn’t do better (not that it didn’t do very well for itself, especially compared with the release of writer-director James Gray’s last picture) because the screenings were sold out two nights in a row at the theatre I went to this weekend. Even so, I must admit I’m pleased. There are times when you know about an actor or a writer or a director, and they are so good that you know s/he could be far more widely known than s/he is at present. And some of those times, you’re glad s/he isn’t, so you can sort of keep him or her to yourself. Other times, though, you want to share that person, make sure that everyone finds out about him or her, so that person you so admire can get the attention s/he deserves.

Gray is like that for me. I want more people to know who he is and watch his movies because he is a brilliant and underrated filmmaker. Although his focus is on character drama, he is equally adept with action set pieces and positively gifted when it comes to creating and sustaining tension. The feeling of foreboding hits the audience long before we get to the moment when we should really start to worry, and he builds it so slowly you are nearly hyperventilating by the time the action kicks in.

Gray was right: this is a movie about fate with the parable* of the prodigal son as its framework. I think after I post this review and start reading what critics had to say more than a few will complain that the movie has a foregone conclusion. That’s true, but knowing how it will end frees Gray up to explore how each character will get there. Plus, it serves him well not to ignore the role of the older brother. He takes it even further, long past the end of the original story, to look at how the brothers will deal with the situation in the long run.

It is a wonder to see Wahlberg and Phoenix back together on the screen and under Gray’s direction. This time around it’s Phoenix’s character that must deal with the consequences of his inaction, and to see him play than against Wahlberg with Wahlberg as the more upright and the more hot-headed brother is great. They’re both so subtle here: Wahlberg reserved and Phoenix quiet. Phoenix is so quiet, in fact, that I thought he was getting a little carried away with the mumbling until he started enunciating, and I was forced to notice when he started enunciating, realizing that it was a character choice. Phoenix does a lot of subtle physical work here that makes me feel subsequent viewings are downright necessary.

Perhaps that’s one of Gray’s best features as a director. His movies hold up well to repeat viewings because of the variety of characters and facets. It wasn’t until I was going to bed later that night I figured out how the movie dealt with class and class mobility as Dennis Lim had said.

What I still haven’t figured out is Eva Mendes’ character. I think I like her as an actress (or at least I’d like to like her), but she doesn’t have enough of a character for me to sympathize with her as I supposed to. She has scenes with Phoenix that are very sweet, but, by the time she has her inevitable freak out, I found myself thinking, “Really? That’s what kind of couple you are? Since when?” I sadly can’t go into greater specifics without giving too much away, so you will have to see for yourself.

Other than that, the only other flaw worth noting is a cut early on that suggests that the director thinks we’re stupid. It was the exact same thing that they used in Fracture to let us know we’re stupid, so it could have been studio interference rather than a directorial choice. Either way, it was unnecessary, and it makes me want to bump the grade down even more than I already have to over the lack of character for (from?) Mendes. For now, I give it a hesitant A-.

* I had to look that story up to see if it was called a parable. In my first year prose fiction class, my professor used Jesus’ parables to explain the difference between parable and allegory, and I recalled that while they would have been parables to the people who heard them, they are allegories for us reading them because we get the explanations that the disciples got. And that’s one to grown on.

Pop Culture Round-Up

Dennis Lim on James Gray: Mr. Gray is smart and neurotic enough both to complain about being misinterpreted and to know that he shouldn’t.

Vote for yourself, then check out my suggestion in the comments section.

"Director knocks populism, current films" has got to be on the the funniest sub-headings I've read in a while.

"Filmgoers may feel they're in a time warp lately, with movies revisiting what many consider the second golden age of American cinema, if not literally -- they're all set in the present day -- then in style and sentiment." Except that We Own the Night isn't set in the present day, Ann Hornaday makes a pretty good point.

Yay, Crosstalk is back! And they're talking about the only new show I have picked up so far this season: Pushing Daisies.

This isn't the kind of movie that would normally interest me, but the casting is certainly keeping it on my radar.

The rockin' David Edelstein got a blog. I'm glad of it.

Ed. Note: I hope to be back to the business of writing about the movies I've watched very soon. Last night marked my first foray to the theatre and the first new, non-previously-blogged movie I have seen since September 30.

And remember that scene where the guy has sex with the pie? Well, I don't. Because I fell asleep in the theatre.

Hey, you know how you lie awake at night wondering how I would throw a movie night, so you can throw the Perfect Movie Night, too? Wonder no more. Check out my latest Culture article to see all the gory details.

As for next month, stay tuned.

Pop Culture Round-Up

Which list, which list? I like the short one, myself.

You guys really need to take this quiz, if only to find out what I got.

I might be looking forward to one of these, but this quiz is still pretty fun.

Peter Berg continues to charm me.

YES!

Mon meilleur ami (2006)

Idea: Out to dinner one evening, François Coste's (Daniel Auteuil) friends declare that they aren't friends at all - none of them even like him. Stupefied by this revelation, François makes an outrageous bet with his business partner, Catherine (Julie Gayet), to produce his best friend by the end of the month. François discovers in short order that no one he knows likes him, so he enlists the aid of a friendly taxi driver, Bruno (Dany Boon), to teach him the secret of making friends.

What I read about this movie claimed that the superior first two acts were ruined or nearly ruined by the contrivance in the last act. I disagree. The first two acts are so mean-spirited that the contrivance in the third act is a welcome break.

Co-writer and director Patrice Leconte's movie is supposed to be a comedy, but, by making this 50 year-old man's sudden discovery that he is friendless and his attempts to make new friends or reconnect with old ones the butt of every joke, well, there's nothing all that funny about that. There are definitely laughs along the way, but François is such a pathetic wreck that the first half of the movie is mostly sad. It's hard not to feel bad for him, even if he regularly prevents deeper relationships from forming because of how he behaves. It seems that Auteuil specializes in this sort of closed off, successful businessman, whether he plays him for pathos or comedy, but he does it so well that I don't see fit to complain.

Leconte and co-writer Jérôme Tonnerre give François a worthy contrast in Bruno, a man so friendly that it blinds François from seeing that he is equally friendless. The revelation as to why comes in a little late to make a difference to the narrative, but Boon plays Bruno so well that you still say, "Aw."

As for that bit of contrivance, it's executed well and played for laughs, so you might as well go along with it. Sure, it'd be better if the narrative didn't need contrivance to wrap itself up, but this isn't that kind of movie. For all the meanness at the beginning, the movie is sweet and funny enough to prevent it from being a waste of time but not enough of either to get you to care for too long after the credits roll, making it the perfect Sunday afternoon diversion. B

Shake Hands with the Devil (2007)

Premise: Focuses on Lt. Gen. Roméo Dallaire's (Roy Dupuis) time with the UN peacekeepers during the Rwandan genocide.

You want to know the truth? I'm not sure I can write about this movie. I can't find the words to express what Dallaire lived through for those 100 days. I wouldn't have made it through the first day, and he stayed there long after the UN refused to back him up in any way, long after they ordered him to leave. Many of his team deserted. Others were killed or struck down with illness. But he stayed and bore witness to everything the rest of the world was so quick to turn their backs on. And at the end, passed out on that bench or quietly remarking to a therapist, remarking, not even complaining, not even then, that he's failed? Dallaire, how could you have possibly failed? The world failed you. We failed you.

It is a testament to Dallaire's work since he returned and to the quality of the filmmaking here that the movie feels much closer to a documentary than a biopic. It also never turns into hagiography, which would have been the easy way out. Instead, we get fantastic work from the extraordinary Dupuis, who hollows Dallaire out in front of our eyes, never once going for anything showy even when Michael Donovan's script hands him big, meaty chunks. Dupuis always shows Dallaire holding back until the very last, and it is in that reservation that we begin the feel the weight of what he went through.

Expertly filmed on location in Rwanda where possible, director Roger Spottiswoode, cinematographer Miroslaw Baszak, and composer David Hirschfelder work in concert the provide both the most breathtaking and the most painfully intimate view of the country possible. Hirschfelder carries this through not by the overused string section but by largely depending on percussion. His score signals the low rumble of thunder in the distance long before the others recognize the storm that is upon them.

In the end, it would be an understatement to call this movie heartbreaking. It goes far beyond that. It's shattering. A+

Full disclosure: I haven't read the book, seen Dallaire speak, or watched the 2004 documentary, so I can't speak as to how this movie stacks up.

The Short Take: Part 3 + Bonus Explainer

Explainer: I was looking at my labels the other day, and I noticed that I have two that are sort of similar: I saw . . . this and The Short Take. I invented the latter because I had a lot of movies backlogged to review and the former because I didn't have a lot to say about a backlog of movies. Although I'd retired The Short Take in favour of I saw . . . this, I've decided to revive it and make a distinction between them. Henceforth, The Short Take shall be reserved for capsule reviews of non-classic movies that I have seen in the theatre or on DVD, and I saw . . . this for pithy paragraphs on classics if and when I manage to take them in. As always, if I have more to say, chances are you will have to suffer through a longer review.

The Host (2006)

I don't normally go in for horror movies or creature features, but I had heard so many good things about this Korean outing that I hit the Bytowne to check it out. It's a fantastic hor-com that defies a lot of the expectations that I have for either genre: we see a full view of the creature in the first ten minutes, our protagonist is neither hero nor anti-hero, the title doesn't refer to the creature. They also pulled the creation story for the creature from fact, and the monster rarely looks fake (maybe for a few seconds toward the end) and is always terrifying.
All that and a subtle hint at a possible sequel? It all adds up to a funny and scary adventure. A-

Tristram Shandy: A Cock and Bull Story (2005)

I wanted to see this went it first came out because it was so well reviewed (and often on Top 10 lists for the year), but I never got the chance. I liked it a lot, but you have to give yourself time to sit down with it if you are going to catch half of what is going on. Based on what's considered the first post-modern novel (written back before there was a modern to get all post-y about), Laurence Sterne's The Life and Opinions of Tristram Shandy, Gentleman is also considered un-filmable. Obviously the easy thing to do would be to make it a movie within a movie, right? That's exactly what director Michael Winterbottom and screenwriter Frank Cottrell Boyce did, and it works. Steve Coogan does triple duty as Tristram Shandy, his father Walter, and, of course, Steve Coogan, but his sly humour is well suited to the role. He is only the beginning of the treasure trove of comedic actors this movie offers. If nothing else, see it for the argument Coogan and co-star Rob Brydon get into at the end about who is better at impersonations. A-

Prozac Nation (2005)

I read somewhere that this movie's release was delayed because the protagonist was considered unlikeable. It's not that Christina Ricci doesn't do a great job with the role (she does), but Elizabeth is so cruel and frustrating that watching her self-destruction barely arouses an iota of sympathy. We want to ascribe all of her bad qualities to her illness, but it's up to the script and the actress to make her sympathetic. You can see Ricci trying, but the movie never quite makes
it. As for the title as a reference to some larger idea of the entire country over-medicating, it's the medication that makes Elizabeth tolerable at the end, so . . . it's a good thing? Yay Prozac? That doesn't sound right. D