It's Complicated, Sherlock Holmes, Before Sunset, The Book of Eli: Movies on a Plane

On one hand, selecting your own movie from a fairly well stocked list makes plane travel that much more enjoyable. On the other hand, that teeny screen six inches from your face changes your perspective, doesn't it?

It's Complicated (2009)

I don't ever think I've seen Meryl Streep this sexy before. She's certainly having the time of her life (to be honest, she seems to be having the time of her life all the time lately. It's great to be Meryl Streep these days), and Steve Martin and Alec Baldwin are right there with her for the most part. Too bad the movie is endlessly distracting with it's "oh, look at the problems of these affluent white people" attitude. I mean, that's all Nancy Meyers movies, but I am telling you it stands out more starkly this time around. You've "earned" a reno to make your massive, gorgeous house even more massive and gorgeous? Seriously, every one's like, "I'm so happy you're getting the reno you've always wanted," and, while I get that a perfect kitchen is the great white whale for a chef or baker, could we cool it with the cooing for a minute? Wouldn't it be hilarious if Meyers were to one day find out that people who work at say, NGOs, never make all that much money? She should write a romantic comedy about them. They need love, too. B-

Sherlock Holmes (2009)

A RE-view! We haven't had one of those in forever. It mostly held up the way I remembered it, but I did find it even more slow moving this time around. How long does it take to get to the plot? Also, I'm not sure how I feel about using the same tricks twice in the one movie (both Holmes planning out an attack in slow-mo, then we see it in real time, and when he pulls off some feat, and we go back to see how he got there). Still, the slow pace gave me more time to appreciate Hans Zimmer's score and the dinner at the Royale. I love that Law is styled after Tsar Nicholas II in that scene. B

Before Sunset (2004)

I can hardly believe that the movie keeps affecting me the same way, but it does: such exquisite agony. By now I know the rhythms and what conversations to expect, and it works for the film. I find myself nearly breathless in anticipation for Jesse to tell Celine he was there or for her to reveal that she thinks all her relationships since have paled in comparison to their one night. And then, there they are in her apartment, one waltz later and Nina Simone on the soundtrack. He is going to miss his plane. It's been six years. Is that enough time to start work on a sequel? A+

The Book of Eli (2010)

It's tough to say because I didn't finish this one, but I'm going to say it anyway: there is a zero percent chance that God wants to you to cross the country killing people when they threaten you but stand by while others are attacked, Eli. Thanks for coming out.

And since we're here, check out my Canadian Cinema Canon on The Trotsky.

Casino Royale (2006)

I finally pulled the DVD off the shelf, so it must be time for a RE-view!

This was definitely a different sort of Bond and a thug, no doubt, but I found it sort of hilarious how everyone focused on the bodies he piled up and ignored that he was (maybe) a computer hacking super-genius as well. He broke into M's computer, her home, and her identity ('cause he knows her real name, see?)!

The only person who seems to care about these things is M herself, as she works in this strange vacuum/non-vacuum situation. Non-vacuum: co-writers Neal Purvis, Robert Wade, and (shudder) Paul Haggis put a lot of effort into showing us that MI6 is infinitely more connected to the British government than what was shown in the past (M attends meetings and answers to the Prime Minister, apparently). Vacuum: none of these people seem all that real. Few of them have names, much less characteristics, that would help them stick in your memory after you see the film. They blend together and disappear.

It gives the movie a streamlined appearance when it is anything but. Which is not to say that it's bloated, exactly. It tells one story, and it tells it very well, which is more than Bond movies have offered in a long time. Both Jeffrey Wright and Mads Mikkelsen are welcome presences, and, from the trailer, it looks like Bond is still pretty focused on Vesper's death, so it's best not to forget about that one.

Only I kind of want to. It's not that I don't like Eva Green generally or in the movie, but Bond-in-love sequence drags and drags. And it's not even that long. I suspect Bond getting his revenge on will be infinitely more exciting to watch. Until then, I'll tentatively stick with my original A-.

P.S. Does anyone else find themselves missing Miss Moneypenny? I really like Craig and Dench's interactions. Thanks to Gwenyth Paltrow's fantastic turn as Pepper, the Moneypenny to Robert Downey Jr.'s Tony Stark, though, I find myself wondering what Bond's long suffering secretary is up to. Mailing out child support payments?

P.P.S How long do you think an actor of Craig's calibre will stay tied down to the role?

The Prestige (2006)

See? I wasn't kidding when I said there were more RE-views in store.

And I bet you didn't even know that a Johansson/Hall double bill was possible.

As per usual when watching something surprising or twisty, particularly if you were surprised, watching it a second time makes you wonder how you could have been fooled. I watched this with a friend who had never seen it, and she was like, "Obviously that guy is his twin." I threw her off the scent, inquiring incredulously, "You think that guy looks like Christian Bale?" She admitted that he didn't, but, seriously, why didn't I notice it before? He doesn't talk! He's always hanging around! Suspicious stuff, man.

Instead, I made a game of figuring out which one he was in any given scenes. Certain scenes, like the ones with Sarah (the still terrific Hall) and Olivia (a less irritated although still unnecessarily English Johansson) or when he is in jail, are more obvious, but it's still a pretty fun game in the second viewing. On the other hand, thinking about this twins business for too long can make you disappointed that you just watched an entire movie to learn absolutely nothing about one of the central characters. Why are the Bordens so obsessed with magic that they are willing to live only half a life to pursue it? The Nolans won't be giving you the answer.

I was once again bowled over by Jackman's performance. Angier is the real villain of the piece, a man so hell bent on revenge for so long that even the reason for his obsession pales in comparison to pursuing it. It's his steadfast belief that Borden could not, under any circumstances, be using a double that drives a lot of the action, and he plays it so well. With Jackman as Angier, has a blood curdling believable quality to it: if he could just understand how Borden works. I love how something so seemingly simple (if he could just) leads to so much complication.

I didn't realize upon first viewing that there were two prestiges at the end: Borden and Angier each get their own prestige. It never occurred to me that we were supposed to think that Telsa (the subdued but still rockin' David Bowie), discovering that the machine duplicated rather than transported, would "fix" the machine. It was more a question of what Angier was going to do with all the extra Angiers, and I figured that one out soon enough. Still, it's the more devastating reveal for the audience; the two Bordens is most devastating to Angier alone.

While I may not feel exactly the same watching this as I did the first time around, it's still a superbly crafted fantasy/thriller and an excellent allegory for filmmaking. Original grade stands: A

Before Sunset (2004)

Yay, RE-view time! I feel like I haven't gotten down to RE-view time in, like, forever. I have a few movies to RE-view, and I am glad we are starting with this one.

Yes, yes, it did take me nearly four years to watch this movie again. I was once again a victim of my own ZipList, in large part because the sequel arrived before the original, and I was hell bent on watching the original first. I also wasn't ready for it for a long time. When I said in my initial review that watching it the first time was agony, I wasn't kidding. It is agony, but it is exquisite agony.

Oh, why wasn't she there? It's been long enough that I can let the cat out of the bag. It's devastating to learn that Jesse showed up and Celine didn't. Celine was the romantic; Jesse's the one who pays for it. I love that he first lies that he wasn't there either, then brushes it off as unimportant, then pleads with her to attribute some meaning to her actions and his life subsequent all in the span of eighty minutes. They've got no time to waste.

The decision to have Hawke and Delpy write the screenplay with Linklater is nothing short of a stroke of genius. Usually sequels are put out with such short time between the stories that the characters have barely changed or such a long time later that the characters are much, much older. In this case, it's neither, yet Hawke, Delpy, and Linklater write Jesse and Celine as heartrendingly realistic older versions of the characters we met in the first film. The verbal tics they use to carry the characters forward are so small that it's easy to miss them: Celine says that she still wants to believe that there is magic in the world; Jesse kids on the square that Celine "plugs" any guy's name in the waltz she wrote about that night, about their night.

The impassive camera catches him hesitantly trying to touch her and pulling back at the last moment. It's so sad and real when the movie suggests that maybe they weren't wrong to romanticize that night. He wrote a novel to reach her. He's married with a kid now, but he was thinking of her on his wedding day. He thought he saw her out of the corner of his eye on the way to the church, he explains. He might have, she confirms. It isn't a romantic comedy about two people who can't quite get it together; it's a romance about two people who want to get it together but have neither the time nor space to do so. Waking Life had them together, but they weren't really. It was just one of Jesse's recurring dreams about the two of them. She demurs as much as she can, but she's felt his absence every painful minute since as well. It ends, as it should, as ambiguously as the first, as romantic and honest and in love as anything could be. A+

Juno (2007)

What's all this then? A RE-view? Sign me up!

To tell the truth, I didn't think I'd ever watch this movie again, at least not for years, not in the least because I wasn't sure I had anything left to say about it. Sars gave me to the hook up re: the problem with Mark and Vanessa in the midst of talking about another movie, and Dana Stevens smartly took apart how we can love and hate the movie at once (hint: it has to do with surviving the 20 minute mark). Enough ink was spilled, but, then again, I think we can all agree that we'd watch just about anything on the plane, right? That's how I came to watch Shakespeare in Love again and The Legend of Bagger Vance . . . twice. It was just as boring the second time.

I was struck by just how underwritten Juno is the second time around. I like Cody and I like Page, and I think that together they have created a character that will rightfully go down in movie history. Let there be no doubt: I like Juno. I do wonder how long Page is going to play things with that monotone before we suspect she's a one trick pony, and I also wonder why Juno gets away with absolutely everything. The script is so proud of its protagonist that it seems fundamentally unwilling to find fault with her. Brenda gets the brunt of her bratty behaviour, although it's unclear why, given that she treats/refers to Juno as her own and has been part of her life for longer than her actually mother with whom Juno has no relationship. Basically, I think Allison Janney, J.K. Simmons, and Philip Seymour Hoffman should get together and form a club devoted to how kick ass they all are.

And why does Brenda have dogs at the end? I get that its supposed to be representative of a change in Juno, but unless that change involves no longer having an allergy, it's a nonsense symbol. Was the allergy never that severe to begin with? Is Juno on allergy meds now? I know it seems like a silly sticking point, but JVO makes a big deal about Brenda being obsessed with dogs, and, in their big fight, it's brought up.

Okay, Sars talked about it, but I feel like we've got to address the Mark and Vanessa problem. It's unclear how or why they got together in the first place or why they stay together. Where/when did Mark even meet Vanessa? Touring in Japan? After he sold out and started writing jingles? After Juno, the adoptive parents are the most important characters in the film, yet very little is invested into making them into real characters much less real people. There's no reason to make it so clear that Mark doesn't want a child. If it weren't so obvious from the word go, it would make for a better climax.

I skipped over Olivia Thirlby in my initial review, which was silly of me. As Leah, Juno's female best friend, Thirlby is the unsung hero of this entire production. Sure, she and Rainn Wilson are in serious competition for having to utter the film's most absurd line*, but she's supportive of Juno from start to finish (offering to make the call to Women Now for her, being there during the delivery) for no reason other than their friendship. She even plops herself down in the movie's most absurd set piece.** Thirlby is a brave, funny soul, and I wish I could see a movie with her and Janney together as mother and daughter.

I realize all this bashing sounds bad, but it comes from a good place. I can see all these things and still mostly like the movie, but I recognize that if Cody had only filled everything out just a little more, I could drop all the kinda/maybe/sortas and just out and out like it. Too bad. B

*I will not repeat these lines. Maybe they will go away and die from lack of repetition.

**It moves quickly beyond ironic to eye-rollingly ridiculous for Juno to sit in a display case while complaining that people are staring at her. Why is that display case even open? It's the kind of thing that sounds clever but should have been nixed before the film started rolling. Eating in the cafeteria is stressful enough.

Brick (2005)

It's RE-view, it's RE-view time!*

I know you might be like, dude, this movie came out a long time ago. You saw it a long time ago. Yes, those things are true. I also re-watched it for the first time in August. What's your point, I say. Months elapsed between when Zip sent me the DVD and when I sent it back. You know what? I don't owe you any explanations, but I'll give you one anyway.

See, I held on to it for so long for two reasons: 1) I love the movie and want to watch it repeatedly, and 2) I had to find time to listen to the commentary track. I'm not one for DVD extras most of the time (except theatrical trailers. You shouldn't be allowed to release your movie on DVD without a trailer), but the sheer volume of names listed on the commentary track made me think it might be worthwhile. Writer-director Rian Johnson, smart guy that he is, didn't bother with scene specific commentary. Sure, sometimes they explain an effect or a choice, but mostly he just chats with whoever it is (the costume or set designer, for example) about what it is that they did together to make the film. It's terrifically insightful and a lot more fun than the average running commentary track.

I was a little dismissive of Nathan Johnson's score in my initial review, although I can't imagine why. It's positively Wagnerian with the themes for each character, and I love that he made up his own instruments. He's a talent worth tracking.

I still think high school is a perfect setting for a noir, especially if you are looking to give the genre a reboot or at least to do something unique and have people take notice. I like that while Brendan is the hero, he isn't a hero, and I love that Joseph Gordon-Levitt plays it so close to the chest. I love that Brendan and Dode (Noah Segan) are motivated by the same thing, even though they can't see it that way. I love that the Brain (Matt O'Leary) looks up to Brendan, even though he shouldn't, and that Brendan knows this and doesn't want him to either. For a movie that has such specific and topsy-turvy dialogue, it's surprisingly subtle and ambiguous with its non-verbal cues between the players.

Mostly though, I wonder whatever possessed me to stick that minus there when I first graded this picture. My best guess is the strange costuming, particularly for Laura (Nora Zehetner). At one point, she appears to be wearing turkey feathers on the side of her head. In my second and third viewings, however, this started to make sense to me. High school girls really do wear the strangest things. It's all part of their struggle for identity, and Laura, with her merry-go-round of men and manipulation, would understand that better than most. A

* One day you will understand how "Business Time" may be one of the most perfect songs ever written, if only for its easy substitution quality. Pretty much any two syllable word will do, including but not limited to grocery, laundry, and Christmas. Try it today!

Hot Fuzz (2007)

RE-view! How I do love to re-view, my friends.

Now, I know people who aren't particularly interested in watching a movie more than once. They've seen it, so they know what's going to happen, and that somehow means that they won't enjoy it as much as the second time 'round. To be honest, I've never really understand that line of reasoning. By all means, don't watch it again the very next day, but, if months or years slip by, I'd wager that you may have forgotten a thing or two.

While I may not have forgotten the general plot, there were plenty of hilarious lines in this picture that hadn't stuck in my mind to tickle my fancy during this viewing, like "I'm not made of eyes!," "The little hand says it's time to rock and roll," and "You wanna be a big cop in a small town? Fuck off up the model village."

Oddly enough, the gore got to me when I watched Shaun of the Dead the second and third times, but the ridiculous gore only struck me as funny this time around. It was strange -- I felt like I laughed at completely different things when I saw the movie again. I found it especially funny to learn that many of Danny's (Nick Frost) lines were written for a love interest named Victoria only to cut her character out. Besides, the chemistry between Frost and Simon Pegg can't be beat.

I love the way that Edgar Wright uses quick cuts and sound effects to make mundane tasks, like fingerprinting or paper work, seem far more exciting than they ever would be. I love that they would get sent to capture a missing swan. I love the way the movie circles back around on itself, positioning the final showdown as a recreation of Nicholas' first jog through town. I'm definitely sticking with my original assessment: A

Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest (2006)

I went to see PotC: At World's End yesterday, but I don't want to write about it until I get my thoughts about the middle child down. It's RE-view time.

The movie remains long and largely boring, but it works better if you break it up into chunks, like I did. A finger on the fast-forward button would also do the trick. Mostly, I'd skip a lot of the stuff on the island, a lot of stuff with Elizabeth, and some of the Cutler/Governor Swann stuff. I love Tom Hollander in the role, but so much of what he does is just set-up for the next movie. You'd do just as well to wait and catch up then.

As for the island stuff, it's kind of funny the first time around, but it loses it's charm on subsequent viewings, and it feels more like filler than genuine dramatic tension (will they save Jack? Gee, I don't know!)

Oh, Elizabeth. You know, when it came to the first movie, Bend it like Beckham, and Love Actually, I would I have said that I liked Knightley alright. She's not spectacular, but she's serviceable when she's not over-reaching. Plus, as I have long said, she's got a pretty face. But here? Why the focus on Elizabeth? She's childish a lot of the time, and her "attraction" to Jack is possibly the most unbelievable part of the entire movie (of the many I could choose). Her signature line, "Oh, Jack," with a little sigh at the end? Plays like he's her screw-up older brother. If it's supposed to be a more carnal interest, it doesn't show.

To be honest, I don't buy the attraction going either way. Depp can play anything at any time in any way and make me a believer, but the sub-plot groans under the weight of the tacked-on tension. It's upsetting but expected that Jack trade Will's life for his own. But try to steal his lady? Never. Jack knows he could never come back from that. Mind you, all of this speculating is possible because Depp plays the most fully fleshed character on the screen at any given point.

No matter which chunk I was watching, I was consistently impressed with Will's character development. No, seriously. Will is the central character, the tie that binds the mainland lives of Elizabeth, the Governor, and Norrington (Davenport is so foxy when he's a rogue) to the sea-faring world of the pirates, and the movies' moral centre. When he lights that sword on fire? I found myself thinking, "Will's ingenious." During that amazing, best set piece of the movie, water wheel fight? I hoped Will would come out on top. Bloomers bugs in a lot of ways a lot of the time, but here? He's quick on his feet, and I can get behind that.

It's still too long, too exposition-y, too reliant on call backs instead of new material, but it didn't turn me off of going to see the final (?) installment. That's saying something. Not a lot, but something. I'm sticking with my original grade. C+

Inside Man (2006)

RE-view!

Sometimes you can put enough distance between yourself and a movie you panned that you forget what you thought about it in the first place. So when my aunt, sister, and I were trying to pick a movie to watch this weekend, and they asked me if they would like this one, I said, "I think I liked it, but I don't know if you will." We watched it with the two of them tutt-tutting over every swear and "inappropriate" line of dialogue. When the credits rolled, my sister announced, "Well, I think that was a flop!" My aunt agreed.

And I? I thought it was a lot better than I had originally suggested. The pacing didn't seem as slow, the camera didn't seem as off, and, while they were wondering what was up with an asynchronous music in the opening sequence, I was smiling. Suddenly it seemed more smart and hip and New York.

What really convinced me that Russell Gerwitz's script was a lot smarter than I gave it credit for? A lot of the theories coming from my viewing partners were off. They are smart ladies: if Lee and Gerwitz could keep them guessing, that's an accomplishment.

I actually started to like the way Owen and Washington were playing off each other. I liked it when Foster got into the mix. Willem Dafoe played the straight man, and it worked. Chiwetel Ejiofor rocked his small roll. It was all a lot more fun than I remembered. And maybe that was my problem last time. Maybe I got so caught up in figuring out the mystery, in the cat and mouse game, in trying to keep track of the various cats and mice in any given scene, that I forgot to just watch.

I think I was a little too harsh last time. This time, I'm bumping it up to a B-.

Stranger Than Fiction (2006)

RE-view! Yay!

Do you remember that episode of Freaks and Geeks where Sam takes Cindy out to the movies? He takes her to a movie he loves, and she doesn't think it's funny at all. So he breaks up with her. I get where Sam is coming from. It's awkward when you are laughing and the person you are sitting there with is staring blankly ahead. You start to feel like you should stifle your laughter or seem less amused.

Mind you, I had sort of blown this movie out of proportion in my mind. It wasn't quite as good as I remembered. It is pretty funny, and there are plenty of things to enjoy. The gambit of showing us how Harold (Ferrell) measures everything around him is clever, and Emma Thompson attacks those line readings gleefully. If you have to have a voice in your head, you could do worse.

I still don't get the point of having Queen Latifah in such a minor role, and I still find it difficult to fully support the ending. The entire sub-plot regarding the possibility that Karen (Thompson) has been killing off real people for years drops by the wayside. We never find out if Harold is the first or one of many, and we never see that really back up on her, either. I realize that she's not the protagonist, but wouldn't you check out some obits?

Alright, I am over-thinking it. I choose to believe that this is an anomaly with no explanation. There's no point in spending too much time thinking about the why behind it because it'll distract you from enjoying what is is very sweet and light movie. It gets treacly toward the end, but I think we can allow it its flaws. After all, doesn't a man like that deserve to live?

The Departed (2006)

RE-view! It's so exiting (to me).

GIANT SPOILER WARNING: Plot details ahead! Please do not read this if you have yet to see the movie.

When I was reading reactions to the Academy Award nominations, I was discovered a 50-50 split regarding DiCaprio. Not that he was nominated, haters, but for which performance he was nominated. At the time, I thought Blood Diamond was a pretty solid choice: the character arc was proscribed, but it worked. He made it work. The character was so far down there was nowhere to go but up, and it ended the only way it could in order to complete his character's redemption.

But then I watched The Departed again. If you haven't seen it yet, you need to stop reading and go rent it. Don't worry -- I'll still be here when you get back. Never mind the fact that DiCaprio gives Costigan the animal ferocity of a cornered rat, beady eyed and swift. Costigan's struggle for redemption is astonishing. He grasps for it any place he can get it, and DiCaprio invests his search with such desperate need that your heart pounds in ears as you wait for him to get some measure of it. When he can't save Queenan, he turns around and tries to save Costello. You can see it even when he quietly tries to correct another crew member's spelling. He's too smart for any of it, but it's far too late. This was the performance for which he should have been nominated. C'mon, he does an accent here, too.

What a wonderful world of contrasts writer/adapter Monahan and Scorsese have set up for us. Costigan and Sullivan, Costello and Queenan, even Dignam and Ellerby. Despite that, nothing's black or white, merely the shade of grey that best suits the moment. All people trying to get what they need from each other, never articulating but always asking.

This is the big, beautiful America that Scorsese must believe in to keep making movies like this. It's scary and hella-violent. Nothing's fair or even. The victories are Pyrrhic, but they are victories nonetheless. The best you can do is keep going, take chances when they come.

I'm feeling good enough about this one to drop the minus this time around. A

V for Vendetta (2005)

RE-view insanity!

Just the other day, I thought to myself: what am I going to put in this year's Top 10? Because, although things have picked up lately, I haven't seen that many good movies this year. Then I thought, "V! I'll put V on the list! And I was so pleased.

Imagine my confusion when I pulled up the review to write this RE-view and discovered that I put the year as 2005. Then I looked it up on IMDb and saw 2005. "But didn't I see this is March of this year?" I asked. Apparently, I did. I looked up the release dates and sorted myself out.

I know you don't care about any of that, but at least you got a preview of what will likely be part of the Top 10 that you won't read until March 2007!

Also, thanks to A & M for this lovely b-day gift!

I had been saving this movie to watch in honour of Bonfire Night. Prior to this, I had been trying to convince myself that my high opinion of the movie had been falsely inflated. I didn't want to see it again only to be disappointed, so I kept trying to lower my expectations. As is my custom, I watched the trailer before I started the movie, which, I have to tell you, makes the movie look pretty crappy. Stupid, even.

Listen, guys - I don't normally read my reviews and say, "Oh, good work, self!" I mostly read them over and notice the things I didn't remember to include from my mental check list. But I was reading this review . . . and I was spot on. No, really, I feel like I hit the nail on that head with that one.

The movie is much better than it has any right to be, given (in my opinion) its pedigree. It is far more intelligently penned than one would expect. It is thoughtful and insightful, and McTeigue has an incisive eye. The way he calls up Kent State and Vietnam to go with the other allusions is particularly perceptive.

Portman and Weaving do have some intense chemistry, which amazes me under the circumstances. And, though I am loath to sound like a squeeing fangirl, I have such a crush on him now. V may be the embodiment of revenge, but Weaving fills him the idea that remains unspoken until Evey pulls that lever. There's no way that someone you never see is going to nominated for any best actor awards, which is a shame. Weaving gives one of the best performances of the year.

I did miss one point, though - Natasha Wightman as Valerie. She isn't in the movie for long, yet her stirring monologue brought tears to my eyes. I hope I get to see her in many more movies.

Although I was right about the slow second act, it's not as bad as a remember it. Besides, this movie is so wonderful it charmed my low quality DVD player-through-VCR set-up into behaving. That makes me feel like bumping the movie up to an A. I won't just yet, but I am thinking about it.

Walk the Line (2005)

RE-view extravaganza!

Although I had picked up this movie months earlier, I had been saving it to watch with my mom. My mom, great though she is, never goes to the movies. She appearently used to go with my nana, but I have no understand of when or what movies they saw. I think they used to go to the downtown theatre, which closed when I was about 13. She once told me that the last movie she and my dad went to see in the theatre was The Godfather, which probably means that was the last movie my dad saw in the theatre.

And yet, I fully blame them for getting me hooked on movies.

Anyway, the point here is that I thought my mom would like this movie. When we were listening to the soundtrack at Christmas, my mom remarked that sometimes, not everytime, but sometimes, Joaquin Phoenix's voice could be mistaken for that of Johnny Cash.

After we watched the DVD together, I asked her what she thought. "Oh, it was good," she said. I blinked. "It was very good." My mom wasn't dismissive, she was emphatic, but still. "Very good"? Had I been mistaken about the quality of this film?

Yes and no. I don't think I was wrong about the performance, which are among the best from two highly talented actors. I think they do excellent work, and together that work makes the movie snap with electric energy.

Even so, the movie's sort of oddly paced. It speeds up and slows down, rushing through some perfomances, yet letting itself breath for beaitfully done scenes like the one in the diner near the beginning. She gets him to talk about Jack for the first time in years; she confesses to him all her feelings inadequacy as she stands in her family's shadow. Scenes like that are the stuff of great cinema.

I recall when I read Owen Gliberman's comment that WtL had the potential to become a "monster chick flick." I didn't get it at the time, but I can see it now. The film, probably conciously although it goes unmentioned, sets up Johnny's addiction in direct relation to his tortured, protracted romance with June. June turns him down for a kiss? He pops pills for the first time. He accidentally makes June cry? He rips a sink out of the wall, then scrambles to pick up the scattered pills and chase them with beer. He's like House, only with music instead of medicine. And, you know, real.

I wasn't wrong about Vivian, though. No offense to Goodwin, but what a harpy! Could she have resented his career a little more? She didn't want to him to talk about it? That's all he does! What the hell else is he going to talk about?

I admit that I may have over-estimated this movie when I originally reviewed it but only by a hair. It's still one of the best. New grade: A-

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004)

More RE-views!

No, I haven't seen this movie in two years either. It's not like I didn't want to see it, and I think I may have watched parts of it, but I didn't sit down and watch the whole thing through again until not so long ago.

My goodness, how my review didn't do justice to this film! I seem to have overlooked cinematographer Ellen Kuras' arresting visual style, Jon Brion's playful yet melancholy score, the perfect harmony of Michel Gondry's direction with Charlie Kaufman's incredible script. Overlooked no more!

Oh, Kate Winslet, how do you do it? How do you play everything so naturally? How do you manage to generate believable chemistry with just about anyone? (I even buy the pairing of her and Jack Black) Kate, I find it exceedingly difficult to place this mantle on anyone, but I think you are my favourite actress. You take risks, but you're selective. You're sensual and ethereal and achingly amazing in this movie. Clementine is seductive and bitchy and cruel and lovable.

The other half of the relationship, as presented by Jim Carrey, is pitch perfect. Joel is everything that Clementine hates to see and wants to possess. His futile attempts to save her are as romantic as they are idiotic, but the way he seems to write her into his memory - knowing that she's only the version of herself that he chooses to see - it's the way Carrey plays the cruelty of desperation matched with the courage necessary to try anyway that makes your breath catch in your chest.

That final, urgently whispered plea before Clementine disappears entirely from Joel's memory? That last scene in the hallway, knowing what they do and choosing what they do anyway? Makes this the most romantic movie I have ever seen.

As this review was also from the time before grades, allow me to attach another: A+

Mean Creek (2004)

RE-view time!

Now, I know you might be thinking, "Elfin April, you haven't watched this movie again in two years?" And the simple answer is, "Le no." I probably put it on my Zip list as soon as it came out on DVD, but it didn't arrive until recently.

As I recall, I saw this movie not only because of Caulkin but also because a few select reviews sold me on it. Occasionally, when I do not know about a movie in advance, the right review can sell me on seeing it. The problem with many of the reviews I read, however, was that they gave away the film's entire plot.

George's accidental (or not-so-accidental, depending on your point of view) death doesn't happen in the beginning of the film, and the film isn't solely about the fallout. George's death is the climax: there's a lot of rising action before it that centres around the group's ever-shifting opinion about George. Making the plan, calling off the plan, who's in, who's out - all of these things are in flux for most of the movie.

Peck's villain is the most eerily, true-to-life portrayal in the movie precisely because he gets what being a bully is all about - that he's a lonely kid with problems and no foreseeable solutions. The best part of his performance, however, is the way neither him nor the direction nor the screenplay allow us to forget the default setting. Even when he moves to mocking Marty's dead dad, you can see how much the betrayal has gotten to him. His voice has a too-casual anger to it, but his tearful, hurt look is unmistakable.

To have a prank turn fatal isn't a concept that Estes introduced to film. His exploration of it, nevertheless, is bar none. The shock, the rushed yet reluctant burial, the acceptance of consequences . . . it all feels so natural in a completely artificial situation.

But, really, it is all about Caulkin. Right at the end there, when the detective leaves the room, and he knows he doesn't have to say or do anything, when he turns to the camera and slowly, deliberately announces that he has never seen Rocky so out of control in his life - that's when the movie socks you in the gut. You see him, in the span of 30 or 45 seconds, age years, decades. The child is gone in a instant.

Because I wrote the original review before I graded movies, let's grade this one now: A

Serenity (2005)

Whoo! More RE-views! Rules.

You know, I really got into that review last time. I got into the movie this time around, too, and I probably will next time.

I'm not even sure my RE-view has a purpose, as my feelings about the movie haven't changed. I suppose I could write ruminations about Mal and River as father and daughter, Watcher and Slayer, unconditional love and duty, but I won't. I could tell you about how I approached the show from Simon and River's relationship, from his point of view specifically, but I won't do that either. Jacob's recap does that much and more. To be honest, it's so detailed and expertly written that I'd wager it might be better than the movie itself. I mean, you need to see the movie to understand, but his recap digs deep into the myth-arc of the series, of any Joss series. There's little I say that he didn't.

I can say that I didn't mind Book being marginalized in the movie because he could grate in the series, but his character is marginalized to the point where someone who didn't know him from the series wouldn't entirely understand his relationship with the other characters, generally, and Mal, specifically. Joss excels at establishing believable characters in a matter of seconds, so that's not the problem. It's the part where Book dies and Mal gets all worked up about him being part of the crew even if he does live on Haven now that would go over the head of someone who had never seen Book living on the boat to begin with.

It sucked that Jayne's character was dumbed down for the movie. I don't mean that he was a braintrust in the series, but a lot of his complexity, or startling lack thereof, was removed in the movie in a way that didn't work for me. You know that arc where Jayne tries to sell Simon and River back to the Alliance, then he seems to change his mind, gets double-crossed, discovered by Mal, almost killed by Mal, buys them apples, then warned by Simon? You know, that one? Those apples were my character touchstone. Jayne wasn't motivated by guilt (at least not entirely so). He wanted to buy back his place on Serenity. He needed to show Mal he was a valuable resource. It was, for me, the beginning of his transformation from mercenary to loyal member of the crew, but the movie kind of . . . pretends that none of that ever happened. Which sucks.

Of course, the worst marginalization was that of Wash because it gave Joss license to spearify him! What was that? I get it, sort of. It works along the same principle as Anya dying in the series finale of Buffy or Wesley in that of Angel. Someone has to die because none of them should have lived that long in the first place. There's no reason to think that everyone would survive a combined Reaver/Alliance attack, and Wash had the least to lose. His death could have the greatest emotional impact with the least plot impact.

I'm stickin' with my original grade. This movie rocks pretty hard.

Closer (2004)

RE-view! Rules are here.

I see now what my problem with it was. I couldn't quite put my finger on it before, but I've got it now.

It's not the performances. The performances are excellent. Not uniformly so, but that's too much to expect. It's tough to tell if Portman and Owens play the more compelling characters or if their characters are more compelling because they are so well played. Alice owns Dan from the first moment that she locks eyes on him through the crowded street, and it's her that gives him the courage to pursue Anna so ruthlessly. Portman gives the opposite performance of what a doe-eyed ingenue would do: instead of letting vulnerability show around the edges of her strength, Portman makes strength shine through layers of vulnerability.

Owens has the mean task of playing the most adult character in the movie, one who has emotions and issues but isn't too far gone to recognize responsibility. When he is introduced, he's the victim of a cruel joke, and he spends the rest of the movie floating on top of the other characters, able to observe and plan and execute when the rest are awash.

Although I have a tendency to point the finger at Roberts, she's not as bad as I originally made out. She makes it easy to understand why Anna is drawn to both Dan and Larry. Her early scene with Portman is probably her weakest, but her work with Owens elevates her usual shtick to an impressive level.

It's Dan that remains a mystery to me. Never mind what I feel are Law's diminishing returns. If you consider the relationship between Dan and Anna the movie's catalyst, then it has to be the most believable one, right? Except it's not. Dan's obsession with Anna baffles me. It comes out of nowhere, and it never feels quite right. After awhile you can accept that he is obsessed, but the important why continues to nag in the back of your mind.

Still, it's not the acting or the direction or the cinematography, for that matter, that holds the movie back. It's the writing. Specifically, it's the screen adaptation that doesn't work. Plays are talky by nature; it's fair to expect a talky movie. Patrick Marber basically "opened up" his play: I'm guessing that there are a lot more locations here than in the original work. Locations aren't enough. Everything happens off screen. Everything. The art show is the centrepiece (right), and it's well done, but it's the scene in the private room between Alice and Larry (top) that has the most going on and feels the most real. Not everything has to happen where we can't see it. Putting the viewer in the middle of the action helps them get more out of what they are seeing.

My original grade (B -) seems generous upon second viewing. C +

Batman Begins (2005)

There's nothing like a little RE-view action to get you through your days, is there?

I did not give Bale the mad props he deserved last time around. Bale is one of those actors that just makes everything so completely believable. I very much believed that Bruce loved Rachel, although I really have no idea why. His loyalties, loves, and losses were all so present, even if some of them had to remain under the surface. That's my boy.

Speaking of the evil one, Holmes is even more annoying this time around. What is it, exactly, that Rachel wants from Bruce? She acts like a crazy bitch to him instead of being glad that he's alive after all this time, and, when she discovers that he's gone to incredible lengths to do exactly what she's always telling him to do, she tells him that's why they can't be together? What the shit? Stupid, stupid, made up, not from any of the source material character. I personally believe that there is absolutely no reason for you to be in the sequel, so you just better not show up.

Also, Neeson is a giant. There's only a three, four inch height difference between him and Bale, but he absolutely towered over him. Towered. I don't know if it was camera angles or other trickery (Bogart had to stand on a milk crate to achieve the same advantage over Becall), but it really added to how intimidating Ducard was.

Also also, special thanks to Sarah for fan wanking a bit for us last night. Indeed, a little reading around has born her theory out. Good thinking, Sars.

May I just say that that was a bit of a waste of Ken Watanabe? Just a little bit. Sadly, more of him is not to be had. Ah, well. Sacrifice and all that.

Did anyone else sense a vibe between Lucius Fox and Alfred? No? Just me?

Mad props also go out to Murphy. Em was right: Dr. Crane is all the more frightening because of the way Murphy overarticulates. That's exactly what makes English villains seem so extra-creepy to American audiences, and he brought that to his American accent. Smart move, Cillian. The fact that they've yet to find you means you could still pop up, which would be delightful. Besides, the fact that the mask is so basic is what makes it so harrowing. Those peeps over at Supernatural totally ripped off the whole idea.

Finally, I said it once, and I'm about to say it again: If I had my druthers, I would take that perfect shot of Bruce coming down the stairs of Wayne Manor (at left, although it's a wide angle shot in the film) and mate it with the shot in The Count of Monte Cristo where the Count walks down the steps to his gala after he arrives is a hot air balloon, switching his walking stick in front of him and his coat blowing in the wind behind him?* Anyway, I'd mate them and have perfect shot babies.

*I'd show you, but I can't seem to find the image anywhere.

Sin City (2005)

Oh, how I do love RE-view time. I expect you know the rules by now.

How is it possible that I wrote the entire review last time without talking about the electric guitar driven score? That's crazy talk! John Debney, Graeme Revell, and Robert Rodriguez (director/editor/cinematographer extradorinaire) rock my world. When I find myself walking down the street, humming the selection that you can hear with the menu on the DVD, feeling (to be honest) sexier, I can't help but thank these gentlemen for their fine work.

While Jessica Alba's many failings were a bit more obvious to me this time (I know she's smokin', but people have really got to stop putting her in movies), I did notice that she had a personality for half a line. Apparently a green screen and Bruce Willis bring these things out in her. So much the better I say.

If anyone let me down during my second screening (which was very shortly followed by my third screening), it was Brittany Murphy. I've never thought much of the peroxided actress, and I confess that most of the time she handles her simple role well. That is, until, she's forced to tell Dwight (Clive Owen) what a damn fool he is. Murphy, there's a little trick to clunky/unrealistic dialogue - you either say it winkingly or you pretend it's perfectly normal. There's no half way, no in between. Your over the top deliver (are you hoping for one of those out-of-left-field supporting actress nominations?) grates.

Personal loyalties to Owen aside, Mickey Rourke owns this movie. By the time he utters his rousing speech about the "old days, the bad days, the all-or-nuthin days" being back, I'm so completely on his side that it's a little scary. He's the magnetic north of these disparate yet connected stories.

I still love every violent, vengeful, blood soaked frame. Can't wait for the sequel. A+

p.s. (2004)

The Topher Grace RE-view double bill!

This movie is so, so much better than I originally gave it credit for.

More specifically, Grace and his character are so much more than I gave them credit for.

Linney is one of the most talented actresses out there today, and it's very difficult to watch any one not get swallowed up by her on-screen brilliance. I sometimes fall into the trap of thinking that she needs someone like Sean Penn, a weighty leading man to say the least, to balance her out.

But that's not true. Annette Benning she is not. Linney knows exactly how to play every character, and her Louise is wonderfully reduced to girlhood at the very mention of her lost high school love. It's captivating and wholly realistic.

Still, if you pay attention to Grace, and I did this time around, he'll steal your heart. I think it's possible that I didn't see it before because of the real way Grace plays F. Scott. Everything F. Scott says or does is believable to the point where you start to wonder if it's dialogue or improv.

For better or worse, the lines he is dealt vary from natural to preposterous. He shows up at Louise's apartment the morning after Louise confesses who she thinks he is to talk about what she said. Peter (Gabriel Bryne) is there, and, when he asks Louise who this crazy man is, F. Scott replies, "Oh, didn't she tell you? I'm the dead guy!"
Louise (distractedly): He's an MFA applicant.
F. Scott (incredulously): An MFA applicant? Are you fucking insane?

I can't even do that exchange justice. I've watched it three times since I got the DVD in the mail, and I'm still laughing at it. Completely normal and natural way to react after what's happened between them.

On the more preposterous side, later in the same conversation Louise claims that she can't deal because "the whole thing is just to fucking mystical for [her]."
F. Scott: "You don't think this is mystical for me, too?"

Look at that line objectively. Think about it. It's hilarious. It's okay to laugh. But here's the thing - it's really hard to laugh when Grace says it. Somehow, he manages to sell it. He manages to make it look like it's appropriate and natural to swear during interviews and throw everything over his shoulder like he doesn't care if he ever picks it up again.

And he just is. He's so nervous and naive, but his has that kind of relationship naivete that makes him so much more mature than Louise can be in the situation. He seems to genuinely astonished that Louise could be interested in him that it's not hard to understand why he's so drawn to her.

I was watching the first seduction with the talk of portrait painting, and it reminded me of a passage from one of my favourite books, A Recipe for Bees. The heroine, Augusta, is remembering how her affair with Joe began, and she remarks that she opened herself up to him, but that men always remember themselves has initiating the affair. I don't think I understood what Gail Anderson-Dargatz meant until I watched this scene again. F. Scott thinks that he's seducing Louise, but he wouldn't be able to if she already given him permission. You'll see what I mean.

This movie was so much better than I remembered or gave it credit for. No longer B+ but A.