The Short Take: 2009 so far

Bearing in mind that January and February are generally a cinematic wasteland that people use to get caught up on awards fare, there's sometimes a gem in the bunch, an Eternal Sunshine or In Bruges. This year, not so much, hence the capsule reviews.

My Bloody Valentine 3D (2009)

Reason: Jensen Ackles

Yes, we went for the Ackles. It's a known fact that I rarely watch horror movies in part because I scare easily and in part because I don't have the stomach for gore. I've started to get over both in recent years, and, more importantly, Ackles should really be a lot more famous than he is. Probably not for this movie, in which we learn that even pregnant women aren't safe in horror movies any more, but generally he should be. Aside from the Ackles, Edi Gathegi, and the brief moments when I considered it possible that Jamie King was the killer (spoiler: she's not), there's little to recommend it. D

Push (2009)

Reason: Chris Evans

Okay, not really. I like Evans, but I wouldn't go to a movie just for him. I actually decided to go because the AV Club claimed it was not that bad, and it turns out they were right. Dakota Fanning's the best part of the movie as its emotional core, and the relationship between her and Evans is surprisingly sweet and believable. There's enough style and moody blues to keep your interest even when the story doesn't (makes them super soldiers how?). Camilla Belle's spangly suit didn't do any one any favours, though. B

Taken (2008)

Reason: Liam Neeson

Oh, again not really. It did turn out that he is the only reason to see this movie, but we also needed to get out of the house. If we get to see famous original Ruby and hear Neeson shout, "This is not the time for a dick measuring contest, Stuart!", so much the better. Other pluses include the hilariously short running time (91 minutes), and the important take home lesson that if you incur incredible amounts of damage, kill foreign nationals, and uncover a sex slave ring*, France will send you home with a pat on the back. C

*You know, the kind made up of affluent white Westerners.

The International (2009)

Reason: Clive Owen (for reals this time)

If you were thinking that what you'd really like to see is Naomi Watts and Owen slumming it for no discernible reason with nothing but risible dialogue between them, have I ever got a movie for you. It's as though someone made a full length version of Superfluous Indifference. The current economic climate adds a patina of relevance to the proceedings, so it's too bad that it wears off pretty quickly. The shoot out in the Guggenheim goes like gangbusters, but in the end you're left with nothing but the distinct feeling that Watts, Owen, and Armin Mueller-Stahl deserve a lot better. C

Friday the 13th (2009)

Reason: Jared Padalecki

Since pretty much everyone I know that watches Supernatural is a Dean-girl, I've got this complex called, "I'm not even a Sam-girl, but you guys are making one due to your insane love of Dean." One might also call it unnecessary pity, as no one is kicking The Chest out of bed for eating crackers. Aside from the fact that Padalecki wears far fewer layers than he does in the average episode and I was reminded that Ryan Hansen exists, there is no reason to see yet another horror remake. Now let's do something about that hair. D

"I learned, at a very young age, the only currency worth anything in this world is power."

Between you and me, I think betting against Irina Derevko is always a mistake. Mind you, I've only finished season two, so don't spoil me on anything. Just like I won't spoil you on the ten steps I uncovered to win Best Picture in my latest Culture article. You can also read my advice column (updated every Monday; send questions to advice@culturemagazine.ca), and check out my new YouTube picks. Currently playing is an all-Conchords edition.

Pop Culture Round Up: February 21 - 27

But how do you ask questions?

Good for them.

I can't saw I ever thought much about this (confession: I don't have an mp3 player. I used to, then my headphones broke, then it broken, then I realized I prefer to hear the world around me most of the time when I'm out walking, which is pretty much the only time I used it), but I am glad that there is a solution. There's no reason to be denied your Prokofiev.

Holy shit, harsh! Sometimes criticism is crisis really gets me down.

Heh.

Watchmen guide for the uninitiated. Next Friday still seems so far away.

"Greenfield warns social networking sites are changing children's brains, resulting in selfish and attention deficient young people."

Was this an unknown previously?

Finally. What was his problem?

Yay! I can only assume that awesomeness will result.

This week in greatest things ever: Vladimir Putin releases judo instruction DVD.

Good, they should.

The answer is Conchords.

Nine! That's just fine by me.

Hee!

Why?

If I knew how to contact Kenneth Clark, I would mail this to his racist ass.

I don't see this happening, but it's a great rumour.

Top 10 of 2008

With 58 movies to choose from, you'd think this list would be difficult to write. Considering the fact that a mere 14 fell in the A range and not a one received an A +, it appears that I am not going soft, as I suspected. While 2008 was no 2007, what was good was really, genuinely, easy-to-spot good.

N.B. Having seen neither Wall-E nor Man on Wire, neither appear on this list. That's not a knock against either. I just haven't seen them, which puts them out of the running.

10. Tropic Thunder
"Seven years have lapsed between this and the highly quotable Zoolander. If it takes another seven years to get a parody of this quality, one that is this smart, silly, and fun, we'll wait."

9. Milk
"There's something so sweet and innocent and daring about a man who can look at his life at 40, thinking nothing of it, and decide to do something about that."

8. Waltz with Bashir
"Waltz with Bashir is one of the most beautiful movies about death I have ever seen: death to self, to country, to memory."

7. The Wrestler
"Thanks to a fantastic -- though occasionally too on the nose -- script from Robert D. Seigel, this movie is really the resurrection of Aronofsky. Or, rather, the renaissance of Aronofsky as a director."

6. Let the Right One In
"It's to both Alfredson and Linqvist's credit that the answers don't come easy. Instead we're kept off kilter in a world that happens just outside the boundary of normal, that presses in on all sides without ever quite crossing over."

5. In Bruges
"McDonagh's story of guilt, retribution, and spiritual awakening clinches on a dead priest and a midget filming a dream sequence. It's hilariously sad."

4. Slumdog Millionaire
"Working in tandem with gorgeous, sensual, and richly textured work from cinematographer Anthony Dod Mantle and the surprisingly subtle screen adaptation from Simon Beaufoy, Boyle and Tandan have nothing short of magic on their hands."

3. The Dark Knight
"Yes, it's very dark. It's downright bleak. But it is also exactly how it has to be. Nolan executes exactly what he needs to without hesitation or remorse. It's the kind of filmmaking that, despite how dark it is, inspires."

2. Rachel Getting Married
"It's as real as any movie in recent memory and more so, for Jonathan Demme delicately picks up Jenny Lumet's screenplay and weaves colour, texture, and life into her carefully selected words."

1. Entre les murs (The Class)
"In his diverse class (a mix of African, Asian and Middle Eastern immigrants with a few French thrown in), in his role of bringing the kids out, Bégaudeau faces challenges, some of which he meets, some of which he exceeds, and some of which he falls short. It takes courage to recognize this, and afterward you realize that you have witnessed something rare."

Honourable mentions go to Mongol and Iron Man, which were narrowly beat out for a spot on the list. Now, what will 2009 bring?

Oscar Wrap Up (2009)

Around the time that Kate picked up her Oscar (finally, even if she is only 33), I got a little worried. I was four for four, and, by my track record, either Mickey Rourke or Slumdog Millionaire would have to go down. Even though I would have loved to have seen yet another deranged speech from Mr. Rourke (and where the dogs in all this?), I was relieved when Penn took the podium (Rourke's his brother, apparently). Slumdog's win was secure.

As was Anthony Dod Mantle's, who may have taken home the most deserving statuette last night. Sure, Philippe Petit was adorable when he rushed the stage and balanced Oscar on his chin, but, really, is there anything better than Mantle's collaboration with Boyle? Maybe his hair?

While I loved Kate's dad's whistle, my award for best acceptance speech is going to Dustin Lance Black. It was beautiful, moving, and simple. That he happens to be so cute and youthful didn't hurt either.

Pattinson did not bite anyone during the show (though I feared in particular for Rourke, who was seated directly in front of the young vampire). Seriously, though, even Troy made a crack about his pallor. I wouldn't be surprised if being perpetually in character was part of his particular brand of crazy.

Pluses: great hosting by Jackman (but where did he disappear to after half time?); the presentation by committee plan worked out (loved the endless movement that went with Angelica Huston's little speech -- apparently she's too va va voom to stand still; loved Swinton for wearing separates and Maclaine for wearing pants); a lovely, moving speech from Ledger's family; the Pineapple Express interlude complete with singing; Jerry Lewis; Angelina's emeralds; Marion Colltiard, as always I hope; Tina Fey, as always for reals; Penélope Cruz's dress; Penélope Cruz, just generally; Viola Davis's dress; Taraji P. Henson's dress; Ben Stiller's Joaquin Phoenix impersonation if only because it may, as Dana hopes, serve as proof that it's all a put-on; my boyfriend Robert Downey Jr, now and forever.

Negatives: the salute to musicals; the salutes to genres; the inability for the camera to show us people's names during the dead people montage; watching Po trying to eat a dumpling at the bottom of the screen during everything ever; figuring out who those two people about to kiss were and then promptly forgetting; getting distracted by said kissing; SJP's dress; Winslet's dress; the general dreariness of the dresses, actually; no Javier Bardem with Penélop Cruz; Meryl Streep's dress; Reese Witherspoon's dress; Reese Witherspoon's make up; Frida Pinto's dress.

All in all, a decent night. Now if someone will only start mass marketing Wall-E crock pots.

Oscar Round Up (2009)

Let's do this thing. View full list of nominees.

Performance by an actress in a supporting role

Amy Adams in Doubt
Penélope Cruz in Vicky Cristina Barcelona
Viola Davis in Doubt
Taraji P. Henson in The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
Marisa Tomei in The Wrestler

I didn't mention Henson at all in my review of Button or say much about Tomei in The Wrestler. It's not that either of them don't deserve consideration. They are both great in their respective roles (though it's hard to pick out exactly what's meant to be so extraordinary about Henson's work. Tomei manages to imbue the old stripper with a heart of gold trope with an earthiness that grounds the character). I mention these things because I don't think either one is going to win. Instead, that'll go to . . .

Who will win: Cruz. Which is fine by me, as she is by far the spark that makes the movie come alive.
Who should win: From the list, Davis. She gets more across in her ten minutes of screen time than most other actors can in an entire movie. I hope she wears something fantastic tomorrow night. Going outside the list, Debra Winger and Rosemarie Dewitt for Rachel Getting Married.

Performance by an actress in a leading role

Anne Hathaway in Rachel Getting Married
Angelina Jolie in Changeling
Melissa Leo in Frozen River
Meryl Streep in Doubt
Kate Winslet in The Reader

Do you think Streep ever saw Hathaway as competition when they were making The Devil Wears Prada? While I doubt that Streep thinks that way, I doubt she would have if she did. While it's great to see something as small as Frozen River up there and a great character actress like Leo on the list, that's as far as she'll get. Jolie's nod feels like par for the course, and, though Hathaway deserves it for shedding her lingering Princess Dairies shimmer and bringing something truly revelatory to the screen, she's not really much of a contender. It's a Streep-Winslet grudge match.

Who will win: Winslet.
Who should win: Hathaway.

Performance by an actor in a supporting role

Josh Brolin in Milk
Robert Downey Jr. in Tropic Thunder
Philip Seymour Hoffman in Doubt
Heath Ledger in The Dark Knight
Michael Shannon in Revolutionary Road

Since this category's been a foregone conclusion for months, let's take a moment to note how unimaginative it is. Downey, sure, but why not go whole hog and put Cruise up there? Ledger, yes, but let's not forget about Eckhart. Harvey Dent made that movie. What about a little something for Michael Sheen? Brolin deserves it for waking up a couple of years ago and deciding to knock every one's socks off, and Shannon deserves it most of all for breathing such life into the holy fool trope that the role became that movie's lightening rod.

Who will win: Ledger.
Who should win: Ledger. That's right. If that's the list you're going to give me, that's how I vote. It's a stunning performance, and those who suggest otherwise is just looking to be contrary.

Performance by an actor in a leading role

Richard Jenkins in The Visitor
Frank Langella in Frost/Nixon
Sean Penn in Milk
Brad Pitt in The Curious Case of Benjamin Button
Mickey Rourke in The Wrestler

Much like Leo on the leading lady list, it's nice to see some recognition for a consummate character actor like Jenkins. He won't win, but it'll be great to see him there. Langella should have won last year for Starting out in the Evening, and I doubt the Academy is going to rectify that this year. Same goes for Pitt's work in The Assassination of Jesse James. Which leaves us with showdown between Penn, playing a truly likable character that he refuses to allow to slip into caricature, and Rourke, whose crazy Oscar campaign only underlines want an amazing feat his raw performance truly was. This is the closest race of the bunch.

Who will win: Rourke.
Who should win: Rourke. Why not? Also, Robert Downey Jr for Iron Man, Christian Bale for The Dark Knight, François Bégaudeau for Entre les murs . . .

Achievement in Directing and Best Motion Picture of the Year

We've got five for five this year, and, as I have said in the past, it's hard to talk about one and not the other.

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, David Fincher
Frost/Nixon, Ron Howard
Milk, Gus Van Sant
The Reader, Stephen Daldry
Slumdog Millionaire, Danny Boyle

I've seen and reviewed all these movies, so I'm just going to call it.

Who will win: Boyle, Slumdog Millionaire
Who should win: Boyle, Slumdog Millionaire. Neither it nor him fit the "little indie that could" bill that has been applied during its campaign, but it's the best of the bunch. I sincerely hope that Anthony Dod Mantle wins for cinematography as well. Love that man. This year, I think that means something. The only upset I can see is in favour of the Van Sant/Milk combo.

I'll tell you what, though. I will laugh and laugh if I get this all wrong.

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button (2008)

Finally! One day to go, and I can now official say that I have seen all of the movies up for Best Picture. It's nice to cross this one off the list.

That said, it's . . . alright. I'd like to say that it's more than that, but it's not really. While the scope of director David Fincher and screenwriter Eric Roth's adaptation of the Fitzgerald short story is epic, nothing about the finished product really is. Fincher continues to be one of the most exciting visual directors working today, and while Brad Pitt and Cate Blanchett turn in fine performances as Benjamin Button and his true love Daisy, there's nothing in the emotional payout or the story to earn the label of epic.

Part of the problem is that the formula the plot line follows bears more than a little resemblance to Roth's previous Academy favourite, Forrest Gump. Which, when thought about objectively, is nothing more than an alright movie itself: a likable protagonist in unlikely circumstances set against major events across the 20th century and with a circuitous love story running through the middle. And yet, the best part of movie occurs when Pitt and Blanchett are finally freed up to be their approximate ages instead of covered in prosthetics and make up (for the record, her youth make up is far more impressive than his old man make up). I imagine it's difficult to fully inhabit a character who is also a construct.

The decision to move the story to New Orleans seems a strange one as well. They use the beautiful old city admirably, but using Katrina as a framing device is questionable at the very least. Factoring in that poor Julia Ormand, reading the story to her mother on her deathbed, has to learn and digest two idiotic decisions in short order, and it feels, at the very least, unsettling. Confidential to the producers: maybe you could have gotten her some blue contacts? Just a little biology related thought.

At the end of the day, it's Fincher and Roth's refusal to draw any conclusions or apply anything more than a broad "life is sad sometimes" moral to their story that stops it short of being the epic they were obviously seeking to create. It's certainly a technical masterpiece. Maybe next time they can remember the heart. B-

Pop Culture Round Up: February 14 - 20

Sort of a slow week if you want to read something other than Oscar coverage.

"Americans have developed an admirable fondness for books, food, and music that preprocess other cultures. But for all our enthusiasm, have we lost our taste for the truly foreign?"

I'm a little sick of this.

Oh, c'mon. This is just too much. It's on purpose, I am sure of it.

Mystery solved!

I'm pretty sure the answer is, "Maybe?"

If you think about which you have gone without longer, the results seem obvious.

Now that is a tradition worth remembering.

First a bidding war over Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, and now this? This is what happens when copyright can't protect you anymore.

Three does make a trend.

Type fonts are cool, and so is his photo.

Heh. I'm often outraged by the same thing.

Holy crap! That makes sense, and it's probably an unsinkable series, but seriously, what is the matter with that studio? Will they hire Catherine back? Will they hire me? It's my favourite of the books!

Waltz with Bashir (2008)

Waltz with Bashir is one of the most beautiful movies about death I have ever seen: death to self, to country, to memory. The animation technique layers the characters, the scenery, the background players, so it's at once alive and surreal. It's also the first animated documentary I've ever seen.

I'm not entirely certainly I should be calling it a documentary (semi-documentary? auto-documentary? fact-based animated head trip?). Writer-director-star Ari Folman can't remember when he went to war in Lebanon back in 1982 at the age of 19. Well, that's not entirely true. He remembers swimming.

Folman looks up fellow soldiers, commanding officers, a reporter, and he gets bits and pieces of what he's long repressed: a solider who could only kill dogs, the scent of patchouli, a waltz with assassinated President Bahsir Gemayel. Some of them don't appreciate his digging things up. No one remembers the swim.

The movie comes back to it, over and over again, like a wave overtaking his memory every time he manages to build up something substantial. Folman's sure he went swimming during the Sabra and Shatila massacre even if no one else remembers it. Why can't he remember the massacre itself when he was only two hundred yards or less away, he asks his psychiatrist friend.

Your parents were in a concentration camp, weren't they?

Yes.

Well, there you have it.

When the final frames suddenly snap from animation into newsreel, it doesn't carry the shock it was meant to because the last exchange is too ponderous. What does that mean? It's presented as though Folman has experienced some sort of Holocaust of the mind: he can no sooner understand what his parents went through than he can imagine what happened to the Palestinians. So he went swimming. His mind's on a vacation. It took the conclusion with it. A-

The Wrestler (2008)

If I gave my reviews subtitles, this one would be called "Darren Aronofsky Grows Up."

The Wrestler is a strange movie to watch because it's almost the reverse of what the trailer suggests. That's not a bad thing, and it's not that the trailer is misleading, exactly. If anything, the trailer only gives you half the story. It's not about a man with a crappy life who gets a shot at a second chance professionally. It's about a man with a crappy life who gets a shot at a second chance professionally and a shot at a second chance personally and has to choose between them.

A lot has been made of this movie as the resurrection of Mickey Rourke, who plays the eponymous character, and it should be. No person seems more ideally suited to the story of a man who abused his body and fell spectacularly from the limelight. As Randy "The Ram" Robinson, Rourke makes the combination of contrition and obliviousness particularly devastating. It's hard to put yourself on the right track when you have no idea what that track looks like.

More importantly, thanks to a fantastic -- though occasionally too on the nose -- script from Robert D. Seigel, this movie is really the resurrection of Aronofsky. Or, rather, the renaissance of Aronofsky as a director. His previous movies hold little rewatch value for one reason or another, but in this case he manages to sidestep his tendency toward vagueness in the search for meaning and instead focuses on his characters to drive the drama. Working for the first time with cinematographer Maryse Alberti, Aronofsky abandons tricky camera work for quiet details that dot Randy's wrestling gigs across Jersey, the strip club with the dancer Randy's sweet on (Marisa Tomei), and his college aged daughter's home (Evan Rachel Wood). His sense of place is more present than ever before, and it gives the story a gritty reality that hits home nearly every time. A

Oh, and Bruce Springsteen? Was robbed.

Pop Culture Round Up: February 7-13

BAFTA winners.

WGA winners.

Criticism in crisis: why review?

Sad. Peel her a grape, angels.

Yeah, we were written before, people. Totally not cashing in.

I wouldn't normally link to a list like this, but some of my favourites are on it.

Tell 'em, Emma!

Ah, Dana. That closing paragraph is why I love you.

What the hell? How have I been missing this?

Six? Did we see the same movie?

"One year later, the evidence is clear: The WGA strike crippled the film and TV biz."

Aw.

Orchestras inspired by Soloist to do good deeds. Aww.

I find that his friend at the screening does a better job of explicating why The Reader shouldn't win than Ron Rosenbaum does for the majority of the article though I agree that the character lacks any real show of remorse.

Important question.

Isn't the book not due out until April, though? At any rate, they should hire me. I would rock that shit.

That would be a difficult list to create.

Whoa. I can't even imagine.

Does anyone just feel 'meh' about him at this point? Also, the topic seems a little uninspired. Wouldn't something about rounding up certain key players in the Iraq war for war crimes be a more exciting, left-wing topic?

Here's two ideas you don't see together every day: William Shatner ballet.

All these new ideas are . . . not worrying, exactly. Questionable. Yes, I have questions. How will I know who designed the dress unless some interchangeable E! host asks the starlet?

All of this just really makes me love her more. Please, please write a tell all. I would pre-order that mother.

Woman after my own heart.

I don't usually make a point of linking to these things as I would end up linking to them every freakin' week, but I found this one in particular to vibrate with a love of film. I find that Scott Tobias gets that way when he writes about Soderbergh, and it makes me wish he would write a book about him.

Aw, don't blame yourself, James. Either he's crazy or he's an idiot, but you're not responsible for either. You are a wonderful director.

Let the Right One In (2008)

Premise: A lonely 12 year-old boy, Oskar (Kåre Hedebrant), befriends the new girl in his apartment complex, Eli (Lina Leandersson). He needs her help to stand up to bullying, but, given that she's a vampire, her help might not be for the best.

Director Tomas Alfredson, working from John Ajvide Lindqvist's adaptation of his own novel, evokes a cold, oppressed atmosphere for this meditation on the nature and requirements of friendship. It's a strange movie, full of fuzzy close ups meant to keep you off-kilter. It's also remarkably smart, establishing certain relationships with a single glance and keeping others contained unbearably long.

Hedebrant gives a heartbreakingly vulnerable turn as a kid who is, perhaps, too trusting for his own good. The lovely Leandersson mirrors his work with a world-weariness that only serves to shadow how lonely Eli truly is as well.

It's to both Alfredson and Linqvist's credit that the answers don't come easy. Whether Oskar and Eli's friendship is good for either of them is not for the filmmakers to judge, it would seem. Instead, like the close ups, we're kept off kilter in a world that happens just outside the boundary of normal, that presses in on all sides without ever quite crossing over. Oskar lives his life in the margins, and his salvation comes from the same place. Whether that salvation has its place in grand scheme remains in question. A-

Sidebar: I know that this movie is set in the 80s, but were there no child supervision laws in Sweden at that time? Damn.

Pop Culture Round Up: January 31 - February 6

DGA winners.

I don't know why exactly but heh.

"The nominations of a still relatively little-seen crop of best-picture contenders are making it harder for producers of the Oscar ceremony to deliver on an earlier promise: to create a big night for the movies, even if some of the movies are not so big." You know, I never used to think one way or the other about whether the movies nominated were seen or unseen, but she does have a point. What makes you tune in if the only movie if you are likely to have seen is Wall-E? You already know and like Wall-E. You don't need the Academy to tell you that.

Also, heh. I'm buying a Group of Seven work when my ship comes in just to be contrary. Or maybe I'll get cute Geoffrey Farmer to do an installation. I suppose that would be selling out, though, so maybe that wouldn't work. Good thing no actual ship is on the horizon with all these decisions to make.

This is true, and I can get behind it. I'd personally like it if we had shorter seasons but more seasons throughout the year.

This link pretty much exists for the last line. Could you imagine what mincemeat Don Draper (name must be said in full) would make of Edward? Edward could be his new Pete, actually, now that Pete seems to be on his way up (or dead, or down). I love that show.

And this one exists pretty much for the headline.

Oh, dear. This does not suggest good things for my future.

This dramatic thriller and its casting strike me as better suited to a comedy.

You'll never guess who Clint Eastwood's best partnership is with!

Really? That doesn't seem right.

"Indeed, Disney said its CEO decided to forgo an additional bonus of $2.4 million as a gesture of good will." Generosity!

At first I balked, but I think I get this. It's cocktail party fodder.

Heh. Dude, you so don't get it.

"I don't have a message." That's good to know. Also, of course.

Alright, I don't want to spend a lot of time on the thing that you've been hearing and seeing all week, so you get this and this. But that's it.

Backlash to the backlash: "Some say the Oscar contender is 'poverty porn,' but that criticism misconstrues the nature of art."

Okay, I totally want this, especially if it a) contains insults about the source material or b) is secretly a tell-all. Would it be too much to hope for both?

Heh: my friend sent me a link to this for the headline.

I know this one! I know this one! Is the answer, "Yes, for pete's sake, kill it and put us all out of our misery?"

Ugh, why? I mean, I know why, but still.

This casting has blown my mind.

Meanwhile, at the Church And State Fair, Maeby was signing up for the inner beauty pagaent.

Behold the beauty of my latest Culture article! But no, I am not going to link to it because you need to behold the beauty of our entirely redesigned website! That's right, friends, check it out, and I am sure you will easily find your way to my thoughts about quotable movie lines. As for Miss Smartypants, she is excitingly moving to a weekly format, so you can read her lovely advice every Monday! Keep sending those questions to advice@culturemagazine.ca.

Entre les murs (The Class) (2008)

Premise: A year in the classroom of a grade nine French teacher (François Bégaudeau).

It's going to be hard to sell you on the movie based on that premise, but it would be disingenuous to say that there's more than that. There is, there's so much more; but to the plot, there isn't. This is one of the bravest movies I have ever seen.

Writing a memoir, co-writing the screenplay based on said memoir, and starring in the adaptation sounds like a massive ego trip. For Bégaudeau and co-writer and director Laurent Cantet, it's not. It takes courage to look at a situation, to point out its flaws (apathetic students, frustrated teachers, institutional racism), and to say that you are also responsible. The big confrontation, if you can call it that, seems to arise out of nowhere, and any hope of resolution disappears just as quickly. Moreover, Bégaudeau is at least partially at fault, and the way he frames the issue and its solution to his class in the courtyard, to his fellow teachers in the staff lounge, and to the principal in his office makes compromise look futile.

Bégaudeau and Cantet make of all this matter not with explosive acting, sad back stories, or a shocking death the way that American filmmakers would have. They establish it slowly through rhythm, the back and forth between Bégaudeau and his students as he engages them, fights them, corrects them, inspires them, and sometimes fails them. Instead of being stultifying, it feels so real and natural that you'd think you were watching a documentary. The camera is only in place to bear witness not to call attention to anything or to present a point of view. It's Bégaudeau's story, but it's not about him. It has less to do with the notion the English translation of the title is trying to push -- class as people -- and everything to do with class as place, where there is a definite limit to what is and is not a part of it, a limit set in place to allow the students to learn but one that also limits how much a teacher can do.

It's strange that at no time does this movie feel like a mea culpa. Bégaudeau's not offering excuses nor is he apologizing. That he is culpable is not denied. In his diverse class (a mix of African, Asian and Middle Eastern immigrants with a few French thrown in played by young, non-actors using their own first names), in his role of bringing the kids out, he faces challenges, some of which he meets, some of which he exceeds, and some of which he falls short. It takes courage to recognize this, and afterwards you realize that you have witnessed something rare. A

Pop Culture Round Up: January 24 - 30

Who, pray tell, is being mocked? Your career?

What the? I don't care if Jennifer Saunders is involved, this thing is fishy. When my friend introduced me to the show, she told me that it was about a pair of aging hippies and trying to be career women but still hippies. Plus they're alcoholics. Does America find functional alcoholics funny?

Criticism in crisis reactions: Oh, no! I'm lazy!

They hired a new critic? Insanity!

For every action . . .

And a criticism defense!

"Film critics and scholars have a tumultuous relationship with a system that is meant to help guide readers but may also encourage some to skip the review entirely."

"The intellectual author's copious diaries record her struggles with a domineering father, her stultifying stint in the court of George III, her controversial marriage to a Catholic escapee from the French Revolution." Saucy stuff!

Ooo, another door! A flood door, but still.

"The most brilliant thing to happen to Jane Austen’s novels since … well, ever." I must have this book.

Don Draper makes ice cream!

That's too bad.

What, what?! This just might be awesome.

Holy Moses. Mind you, if I had that actor in the role, I might be wary of including an certain predilection as well.

This hurts a little.

Yes! I have been saying this for years.

Hmm. Good question. I'm pretty sure awesome movie is still the answer.

Heh. Although what he says is, "You followin' me, camera guy?", which is even better.

"As the number of possessions grew, so did the concept of ‘taste’, a subtle and elusive yardstick by which people advertised their social position and sensibilities."

"Comics actually are jazz." I can't say that occurred to me before.

I can't imagine one actor who could play him, much less two.

Hey, they did something nice!

Aww, don't take away old peoples' TVs!

SAG winners.

PGA winners.

"In five years we'll either be working for him or dead at his hand."

Happy birthday to you, little blog. You're five years old today. While we've been annoyed, horrified, bored, disgusted, and confused many times over, we've also unearthed a plethora of gems together. We've loved the years 2000, 2004, and 2007. We've mourned the dearth of good roles for adult actress. We've had crushes, broken up with movie boyfriends, and reviewed hundreds of movies in the process. All in all, we've been through a lot. One thing that remains undiminished is our love for movies (obviously). Another thing? Our love of Schoolhouse Rock!

Revolutionary Road (2008)

Summary: Frank (Leonardo DiCaprio) and April (Kate Winslet) Wheeler are an unhappy suburban couple in 1955 who decide that a move to Paris is just the thing they need.

By the time this movie opened here, I had more or less lowered my expectations for it. I went into it not entirely sure what I was looking for or what it would be. I knew DiCaprio and Winslet would be great (they are). I knew that Michael Shannon, as the institutionalized son of their neighbours, would do something amazing (he does but more on that in a minute).

There is some interesting work about perception and self-delusion going on in Justin Haythe's adaptation of Richard Yates' seminal novel. We hear a lot of talk about how "special" the Wheelers are, both from outsiders and from themselves, but we never see any of this specialness in action. Instead it becomes clear that there is vast gulf between everything the characters say and the reality in which they live. They fear that this special quality will burn out if they continue on the way they are; their capacity for self-reflection already has. In comes Shannon, burning with such fervent intensity that even playing a well worn trope (crazy person tells the truth no one dares speak) he invigorates his brief scenes with an electricity lacking from the rest of the film.

That's possibly the most interesting thing about it. Even though the acting is top notch, the movie wasn't the sum of its parts. It's not enough anymore to say that people in suburbia put on a veneer of perfection and are dying inside (in this movie, it's "hopeless emptiness"). We've seen that before. We've seen it for two superb seasons on Mad Men, and director Sam Mendes told us the same thing ten years ago with American Beauty and with far more creativity and pizazz.

You have to bring something more to the table now, and this movie didn't do that. B

Pop Culture Round Up: January 17-23

I feel more inclined to watch now.

Ah, George, where would we be with you? I would so read an oral history about you.

I feel like this is the eighth article I have read like this.

"Hopes to put the episodes online"?! What do these bastards want from us?

I was upset about this when I first found out, but now I just feel meh. It happens.

"Movies like “10,000 B.C.” are popular because they appeal to our sense that life used to be more in sync with the environment." Huh? What does it mean if movies like that don't appeal to you?

Dude, that's just what I think!

Heh: "For humans, there is something captivating and unforgettable about the arrangement of two balls."

At first I though "aw" because I think lifelong affairs are sweet, but then I thought, "That's weird" because why would you have an affair with a married man for so long? What are you going to get out of that? I guess I should read the book to find out.

I think this has the potential to be one of the coolest things ever.

I'm so confused. I thought we heard about this movie last year.

I had no idea there was such a thing.

Ha!

Is there anyone in pop culture they didn't keep a file on?

Ah, George, where would you be without that show?

It can't be that bad, can it?

Dear Academy,

Was 2008 that bad a year for movies? I've suspected it was for a while, and your nominations this morning only confirm that theory. Little seems unexpected and a lot seems overlooked, which I suppose is your stock in trade, but c'mon. Fortunately I don't think you'll ever disappoint me quite as much as you did when you failed to recognize Children of Men as one of the single greatest movies ever, but let's talk about what you're doing here.

I've yet to see The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, but I doubt that it's 13 nominations good. David Fincher's last movie, Zodiac, was possibly that good, and you paid it no mind. Are you trying to make up for that?

It's nice to see character actors Richard Jenkins and Melissa Leo get a Q-rating boost from their respective nods, and it's nice for you to throw hardest working actor in Hollywood Robert Downey Jr. a bone.

Less nice are the lack of nominations for the following: The Dark Knight for best picture, Christopher Nolan for director, Jonathan and Christopher Nolan for screenplay; In Bruges for anything other than screenplay; acting nods for Slumdog Millionaire; Bruce Springsteen for song; Rosemaire Dewitt or Debra Winger for supporting actress, Jonathan Demme for director, Rachel Getting Married for best picture.

Much like the middling melodramas you've insisted on celebrating, your nominations feel less than inspired. Most people would tell me that you're like that every year. When is it going to stop?

Heart,

April

P.S. I am going to go hang out with Dana and Troy.

Defiance (2008)

Brief: After their parents are murdered in an SS raid, the Bielski brothers (Daniel Craig, Liev Schreiber, Jamie Bell, and George MacKay) hide in the woods in Belarussia to save themselves from certain death. While in hiding, they find other Jews and agree to band together; word gets out about their community and soon Jews from all over are making their way to the brothers for a chance to be free and live.

I know you might be like, "Belarus?," but they call it "Belarussia" in the movie, so that's what I'm going with here.

Where would we be without director and co-writer Edward Zwick? He's really cornered the market on humanist war movies, hasn't he? Even if he hadn't, I'd still love him for My So-Called Life and Once and Again, so he's just sort of awesome, isn't it? He's not a genius, but he's great. He's got a particular sense of how infuse real human responses into unfamiliar situations that make them familiar for the audience. Of course, his movies tend to suffer from obviousness, and I suspect that he and co-writer Clayton Frohman are playing fast and loose with the Bielski brothers' actual history.

Zwick's got all sorts of sexy, fantastic actors up in our grill, so let's just keep it in perspective. First we've got Craig as oldest brother Tuvia, the de facto leader. He's the only one who struggles to maintain the accent while speaking English (which stands in for Yiddish, while Russian gets to be Russian). Then we've got my dear Schreiber as second oldest Zus, rocking an accent in a Holocaust movie, which is exactly how I met him. My faithful viewing partner turned to me as the credits rolled but before she could open her mouth, I announced that yes, Liev Schreiber is so foxy. He is one of two actors that I would describe as cerebral. Bell rounds things out as Asael, the third son, who seems like a natural successor to Tuvia while Zus gets to be the hothead. (Sidebar: Bell should really be more famous by now.) Finally there's little Aron, but he gets next to no lines and no post-credits "whatever happened to?" moment. Poor MacKay.

Bear with me because I'm about to say something crass: I've got Holocaust movie fatigue. Don't balk because you've got it, too. It's all righteous, oppressed Jews and evil, unambiguous Nazis. While the site of a mass grave while never fail to be stomach churning, there's nothing in Zwick's filmmaking to allow for any nuance or shades of grey. The Bielskis are thieves and murderers to be sure, but it doesn't matter because they're the dispossessed. At least it doesn't matter in Zwick's forest, and it doesn't matter in the same way that it doesn't matter what Hanna had done since or what her circumstances were when Michael found out that she used to be a Nazi in The Reader. Now that's all she'll ever be to him. You can do the right thing and not be a hero; you can do the wrong thing and not be a villain. Motive counts, and in movies like this motives are always so simple. You do the right thing because it's the right thing to do. You give the big speech, and James Newton Howard's score swells, and you get the love of electric Gwen from Angel (the transcendentally beautiful Alexa Davalos) for your trouble.

At least Zwick's a talented director with a great cast, or all this might wearying. B+

Frost/Nixon (2008)

Story: British talk show host David Frost (Michael Sheen) hatches a plan to interview Richard Nixon (Frank Langella). As the plan takes longer and longer to come together, Frost struggles to come up with sponsors and a network, while his research team (Sam Rockwell, Matthew Macfadyen, and Oliver Platt) attempts to give Nixon the trial he never got.

Finally, something with a little life! If you wanted to do a study about the decline of the middlebrow melodrama, Doubt, The Reader, and Frost/Nixon would be excellent places to start. Ron Howard is the quintessential middlebrow director after all.

Adapting his own play for the screen, Peter Morgan continues to corner the market on the inner lives of public figures of yesteryear and on Michael Sheen. Wherever Sheen's been hiding all these years (the stage, apparently), movies had better not give him back. He's so naturalistic that it's disarming.

Ah, Langella. How nice to see you again. You make Nixon vacillate wildly between sympathetic and callous, and always so naturally. First Starting Out in the Evening and now this! What a find you are!

The rest of the moive: meh. Too many talking heads explaining what anyone with eyes can clearly figure out for him- or herself (did they have those on stage, too?), too little reason for pointing out Diane Swayer (she gets two lines, and one comes from off-screen), too few women generally. It's not very exciting, but it is fun and strikes the right chords. It'll do. B+

Pop Culture Round-Up: January 10 - 16

Criticism in crisis is back in full force: LA Weekly's theatre critic shifts to "Critic-At-Large" [shudder], and LA's Daily Breeze has dropped their theatre critic as well. Is there no theatre in LA? That doesn't sound right.

But what if you are in the target demo, and you don't watch any of those shows? Who's targeting me?

What? Do I really have to reconsider my slight obsession with returned Nazi art? Mind, I would like there to be some sort of condition that requires the art to be donated to a period of time to the museum of the rightful owners choice. Being too poor to go around buying expensive art, I never saw the point of keeping it locked away.

I'm not looking forward to many of these. Surely 2009 has more to offer?

Adieu.

That's true -- what did happen there?

There should be more rapping about that show.

When Gossip Girl asked us on Monday, "Does anyone remember Georgina?", the correct answer was, "Yes, the writers." Girl better get hooked up with Agnes and stir that shit up.

"A couple of songs this year, we wanted to do particular styles, like a club tune, and we wanted to do a West Side Story-type musical song." I can only hope this leads to the return of angry dancing, which is only a step away from dance fighting.

Pretty much anyone associated with Supernatural already has a good reputation with me.

People, do not deny yourselves Slumdog Millionaire. Even if you don't like it.

What the hell? That's a mistake. This, however, is not. Actually, it might be. If Spider-Man 3 taught me anything, it's that having multiple villains doesn't always work. Mind you, it worked just fine for Batman Returns.

I am going to see this one.

There's nothing about this that isn't funny.

For our tough economic times.

Huh, what? Actually, I think that's alright.

Ooo, I think I might like that. Of course, I'd like it a lot better if the stupid fuckers at the alphabet network weren't such stupid fuckers to begin with.

Oh, what the hell? Grow up, Parents Television Council.

I'm not sure how exciting a LINCOLN SMASH-less TV season will be, but I'm okay.

Yay! But why isn't it about Eric?

I'm all about 2, 7, 14, 15, and 17. As for five, it's occurred to me recently that it might be a better soundtrack than it is a movie.

GAH! Is there nothing this man can't or doesn't do? I'm beginning to think that he thinks that he's Peter the Great reborn.

Phew.

Okay, I've keep silent over this one because when your favourite (living) actor quits acting, it's little like your (movie) boyfriend breaking up with you from out of nowhere. I had some stages of grief to go through. I'm (mostly) okay with it now. He remains a prime candidate for my burgeoning celebrity interventionist* career with news like this, though. What kind of crap friend is Casey? He doesn't stop him from going out in public looking like Vincent Gallo, and he can't even be bothered to help him figure out right from left.

'Tis the season:

LAFCA winners.

BAFTA nominees.

Golden Tomato Awards.

*N.B.: This isn't for the type of problem that would land you on Intervention. We deal with more celebrity-specific issues like how to style your hair for public viewing, considering pants, and, apparently, when to keep your dreams of becoming a rapper to yourself.

The Reader (2008)

Brief: A chance encounter leads to an affair between a teen, Michael Berg (David Cross), and an older trolley worker, Hanna Schmitz (Kate Winslet). Years later while at law school, Michael attends a war crimes tribunal to find Hanna on trial for her time as a guard at Auschwitz.

If I tell you that the performances are uniformly excellent -- particularly Winslet as a woman who holds steadfastly to her belief that one does one's job as best as one can without questioning and who's great shame lies not in something that can never be undone or forgiven but in something she knows not how to change -- can we move on to why this story doesn't work best on screen?

Despite having never read it, I feel almost certain that the book must be better than the movie. Kate Winslet as a sexy older lady having an affair with a kid half her age and who happens to secretly be a Nazi certainly sounds like a pulpy premise, doesn't it? But in his effort to focus on the psychic scars that haunt post-war Germany to this very day (or at least to 1995 where Ralph Fiennes, as the oldest iteration of Michael Berg, reflects back on them), director Stephen Daldry presents us with another deadly dull literary adaptation. (Sidebar: Can you believe he directed Billy Elliot?)

Before you point out that perhaps the post-war Germany bit is more important than the sexy-Nazi bit, let me remind you that there are sexy movies about post-war Germany. It can be done. I am certain that there are stories about that time in that country's history that can and should be told, but this movie isn't the place I would look for one if I were you. There's a scene late in the movie between Fiennes and Lena Olin, as a survivor who wrote a memoir about her time in the camps and whose testified against Hanna, that would be a good starting off point. It carefully maintains a balance between wanting Fiennes to spell it out and wondering what good that would do. It put me in mind of My Own Private Lower Post, a powerful short about the psychic scars that reservation schools have unto the second and third generations.

While Winslet can't win enough awards in my opinion,* I would also hand one over to Bruno Ganz. He so perfectly embodied the role of a special seminar professor that it nearly took me by surprise.

My greatest surprise, however, came in the form of Nico Muhly's score. It relied, of all things, on the oboe. I had a professor who told us that we do not trust the oboe (or any instrument with a double reed) because it reminds us instinctively of the snake in Eden. There is something lovelorn about it and Muhly's work.** If only the movie could have maintained the same tone. Well, and moved a bit quicker. And maybe have been a bit shorter. B

*After all, working with Daldry and donning a prosethetic won Kidman an Oscar.

**It reminded me of nothing so much as the score for Sweeney Todd, to be honest.

Doubt (2008)

Story: A young nun, Sister James (Amy Adams), brings her suspicions to the school's principal, Sister Aloysius Beauvier (Meryl Streep), that the parish's new priest, Father Flynn (Philip Seymour Hoffman) may be interfering with the school's lone black student Donald Miller (Joseph Foster).

If for no other reason than it's set in 1964, I kept waiting for someone to revive the euphemism "interfering." No one did, so I shall take up the cause.

If I tell you that the performances are uniformly excellent -- particularly Viola Davis as Mrs. Miller, who in her scant screen time really makes you desperate to know the entire story, to know what she means by "character," and deeply sad -- can we move on to why this story doesn't work best on screen?

There's a lot of business about the opening and closing of doors and windows, and it's a theatrical conceit. It's not that it doesn't work or that it doesn't contain meaning; it's that it's constrained by stage business. On the stage, you need to have people both explaining what they are doing with doors and windows as well as actually doing with said doors and windows. It's a question of angles and sets for the theatre audience.

In a movie, you need to show not tell. It was late in the movie that I realized that this is what was missing - writer-director John Patrick Shanley, who adapted his own play, wasn't doing enough with the language of cinema to tell the story. Someone closes a door, and it's a Big Fucking Deal, this closing of the door, only we watch it happen solely from the inside of the room with the person's back to us. What we needed, though, was the repetition of watching this door close from the outside. Inside the room is one thing; outside the room is just as important. Would the door latching echo in the hallways or would it be silent? None of this would give anything away, but it would help layer meaning into what's meant to be a complex take on truth, reason, doubt, objectivity, and subjectivity. Again, it is all those things, but it's closed off, at a remove.

What happens inside the room I won't reveal. I will tell you that it's meant to be the Big Confrontation, and that doesn't really pan out either. Whether it's the product of the movie's airless quality, whether it was some resistance or hesitation on the actors parts, or whether it's a natural by-product of knowing that you won't get any answers there, I couldn't say for sure, although I'm leaning toward the second option. Traditionally, Shanley tells only the actor playing Flynn if Flynn is guilty, and I wonder if that hampers his performance in anyway. You have to play it straight down the line no matter what, so what good does it do to know?

Sidebar: Howard Shore wrote a score for this movie. I don't remember hearing any non-diegetic music. What does that mean? Also, I love Alice Drummond's voice.

All of this is pretty negative, I know. I'm not suggesting that this is a bad movie. It's obviously an outstanding play, and, I suspect, a better play than movie. Maybe a few more drafts or a different director would have taken it further. Then again, maybe those changes would have ruined it. B

Pop Culture Round Up: December 20 - January 9

I'm still getting all caught up, you know?

Inglorious Basterds finally gets a release date.

Sort of to the side of Criticism in Crisis, but still good to know.

More Criticism in Crisis reactions.

"Normally, a picture is worth a thousand words. But during blurb season, the laws of nature are reversed." Which is why I head to the movies and see giant Rolling Stone reviews in the place of cardboard cutouts.

Yay, Lauren Graham on TV again!

Speaking of, this reminds me of that Gilmore Girls episode where the town loner wanted to hang a giant sign from the bell tower.

Heh. This list is so curmudgeonly.

What if the movie is the only way you are going to get to see it?

Gak! Brain pain!

Check the slide show.

Gah, this bugs. Won't they at least need him for the before scenes?

They certainly don't seem as inventive as they could be.

Wouldn't be against it!

Why is this news to me? Also, is it just me or does Pegg look particularly foxy in that photo?

Do NOT take this away from us, Judge.

More art to be returned.

Sad.

But scientists, Army, and Al Gore got in the way.

Yes, but are they ideal for a certain song by Spinal Tap?

Not the point: Possession is finally coming out? Dude, I wrote about that last February.

Also not the point: In answer to your last question, no, but maybe he should consider it.

Listen, while that is the best part of Fantasia, what the hell? Just . . . why? Maybe it will be cool. I have my doubts, but maybe.

How cute is the "why am I marrying him?" gallery? (Psst, you have to click on the left to get to it)

I misread this headline and thought one crazy movie was in store.

And in honour of my best friend's most recent birthday.

'Tis the season:

National Society of Film Critics Awards.

PGA nominations.

WGA nominations.

DGA nominations.

Nice of CBC to put all their top 10 lists in one place.

Dana Stevens' Top 10.

Stephanie Zacharek's Top 10.

Vulture's Critics' Poll Ballots and Results.

The best of the AV Club.

TWoP's most disappointing movies of the year, favourite movies of the year, and most hated movies.

MOVIE CLUB! Yes, I was yelling. I loves me some Movie Club.

Slumdog Millionaire (2008)

Premise: Poised to be the first person to win 20 million rupees on Who Wants to be a Millionaire?, Jamal (Dev Patel) is hauled into questioning by the police (led by Irrfan Khan) who want to know how a slumdog who serves chai at a call centre knows all the answers. Jamal tells them about moments in his life with his older brother Salim (Madhur Mittal) and true love Latika (Freida Pinto) that furnished him with what he needed to know.

I've read quite a few things along the lines of "if it wasn't set in India" or "if it weren't told in flashback" or "if not for this cast," and you know what I say? Fuck that. With Hollywood's War on Original Ideas (tm the Vulture) still on-going, what's wrong with doing anything we can to take a basic premise (guy bests unbeatable odds to win dream girl) and turn it into something fresh? If we can get something funny, heartfelt, and uplifting in the process, why are we looking a gift horse in the mouth?

That's what this one feels like, at any rate: a gift. 2008 isn't going to go down in the books as one of this decade's better years for movies (sucks to have to follow 2007), and I've been hard pressed, at this point in the game, to name what I think the best movies of the year have been so far. If co-directors Danny Boyle and Loveleen Tandan want to hand us this thrilling and ultimately sweet gift, why say no?

Working in tandem with gorgeous, sensual, and richly textured work from cinematographer Anthony Dod Mantle (he also did Boyle's amazingly shot 28 Days Later . . .) and the surprisingly subtle screen adaptation from Simon Beaufoy (who apparently invented the love story that both anchors the plot and sends it soaring), Boyle and Tandan have nothing short of magic on their hands. Every scene is alive with motion, colour, and energy; even the subtitles (the movie is partially in Hindi) dance across the screen, highlighted by different colours for each speaker.

It's hard to single out one performance in a movie filled with pitch perfect ones (the youngest versions of Jamal, Salim, and Latika are particularly endearing), but attention must be given to Patel nonetheless. There's very little that's universal in a story so particular, and it falls on his shoulders, as the oldest version of Jamal and as the storyteller, to make it personal. Patel succeeds by turning Jamal inward, making him quiet and conscientious but still bright. His ability to imagine a life for himself is limited to one that involves Latika, and his singular devotion to that vision is what gives him (and thus his performance) its strength.

There was another movie that I recall that had a lot of "if not for this" and "if not for that" comments about how beat out very narrow odds to become excellent. It was Shop Around the Corner, and you know what they called such movies back then? Lightening in a bottle. Why can't we still have lightening in a bottle? A