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Reviews
La grande séduction (2003)
Much more than just a cute film
The tiny ("microscopic" as Dr. Lewis puts it) village of Ste. Marie du Mauderne is in trouble. Fishing is dead and all of its inhabitants are on welfare, and they can't get any economic help unless they can get a plastic container factory to build there--but for that they must have a population of at least 200 and a full-time doctor. The village has neither. What they do have is a collection of memorable and wonderful characters who are willing to do anything they have to to get the factory--including coercing a doctor--a plastic surgeon named Christopher Lewis--to give them a month-long trial. The mayor of the town, Germain, is the instigator of the plot to "seduce" Dr. Lewis into find the village irresistible so he will sign on permanently. Immediately they begin to manufacture anything they need to get him to sign a contract: they give him a home (the "modern" house of the bank manager which he finds incredibly ugly,) cook his favorite foods in the restaurant, take him fishing (putting frozen fish on his hook for him to pull up,) even manage his appointments so he's not overwhelmed with work. And since the doctor is a cricket fan, they also form a team--complete with homemade white sweaters--even though none of the Quebecers knows a single thing about the game. There's a memorable moment when the mayor tries to get the men to understand that cricket is a GAME--not an insect. It's one of the funniest exchanges in the film. Germain, his best friend Yvon, the bank manager (whose fear of being replaced by a bank machine is constant)and the rest of the villagers do everything possible to make the seduction work, including tapping the doctor's phone calls to his girlfriend Brigitte, (who is cheating on him in Montreal,) and pretending he's like the son Germain lost as a child (Germain and his wife are childless.) The fake cricket game alone is worth the rental fee for the film. When the factory representatives come to inspect the village and don't believe there are 200 inhabitants they move the entire population from one building to another, while the people change clothes along the run, to fool the reps. They finally realize how dangerous it is to lie about everything you are, even if it's for a good cause, when the doctor tells them how hurt he was by his girlfriend's deceptions. It seems their seduction may be over, but there are still surprises in store.
The film was beautifully made, with fine performances and well-drawn, multi-layered characterizations--it's not slapstick but it's just tongue-in-cheek enough that although you will find yourself laughing out loud at some of the antics, you'll also be smiling inwardly at the very lovableness of the people who are pulling them.
Well recommended. A charming film enjoyable by everyone (anyone who can read the subtitles.) Some adult themes, but nothing objectionable.
Junebug (2005)
We're not always who we think we are
George (Allesandro Nivola), a successful and obviously well-to-do buyer is at an outsider art auction when he meets the woman who, one week later, will become his wife. Madeleine (Embeth Davidtz), the gallery owner and soon-to-be wife of George, asks him about a painting he is gazing fondly at: "Do you like it?" she says, hoping in her sophisticated, big-city, English-accented way to open a path for flirting. "It makes me happy," returns George, "but I'm going to buy the UFO."
That exchange sums up the premise of Junebug, a film by Phil Morrison, written by Angus MacLachlan. This is a film about what makes a family, and what parts of that family make us who we really are. It is also about the masks we don when our families aren't around, and the deceptions we portray. George and Madeleine, six months after meeting, are traveling to North Carolina to see his family, and to chase the star of an outsider artist that Madeline's scouts have discovered for her. The artist is obsessed with pain, bleeding scrotums and large, exploding penises, set against the background of mystic revelations and the Civil War. Madeleine, sensing greatness, has to have his works in her gallery. George doesn't seem as interested in the art, but the artist finds a focus in his face, and promises to put him in a painting. When the deal is verbally consummated, George and Madeleine move on to meet his family: his prickly mother, Peg, his withdrawn father, Eugene, his angry brother, Johnny and his effervescent, half-baked sister-in-law, Ashley. They all live together in a spotless middle-class shoe avoiding most interactions with each other until George and Madeleine arrive. Ashley is hugely pregnant, and so hungry for company that she nearly overwhelms Madeleine with constant talk, questions, observations and her seemingly unstoppable rose-colored viewpoint. Peg is polite, but distant and wary. Eugene is barely present at all, stalking the edges of scenes silently. Johnny is downright hostile.
Madeleine, wishing only to please this oddball group, answers any of their questions, and offers to help anyone with whatever she can but she soon finds she isn't needed or wanted except by Ashley. She uncovers one surprise after another about her new husband, and begins to wonder just who it was she married, since he seems so different here at home. She's distracted, however, by her involvement with the outsider artist she's made a deal with; she finds out his sister has other plans for his artwork, and must act to stop him signing with a dealer in New York, rather than her Chicago gallery. Even here, in her own circle of competence, she finds that she has to learn to step differently and react differently than she is used to. The effect this has on her is profoundly unsettling.
Although the action follows Madeleine for the most part, centering most of the pertinent scenes around her and her reactions, this film is really about George and what he really is, and how his wife is going to have to deal with it if she truly loves him and wants to make her new marriage work. She sees he isn't who she thought he was, and may have different ideas altogether than the ones she supposed he had.
What is on the surface of the actions portrayed by these characters, and what is actually taking place underneath are sometimes two very different things. We discover that Ashley, for all her bubble-gummy, teenybopper ways, is actually thoughtful, conscientious and desperately lonely for her husband and the love she had once with him. Johnny, all hostile prickles and sudden storming-outs, is just terrified of not being good enough. Peg, cold on the outside, is warm and hopeful beneath the scales, and Eugene, whom one might assume had no interest in anything except his wood shop in the basement, has a great deal of wisdom and insight to offer, if you can dig it out of him. And George is a star. He knows he is a star. The church people, the neighbors, and most especially his family, think he is the one who "made it." They are critical of Madeline for not being good enough for George, and not being able to see his star-quality, even though Eugene assures them she will eventually realize it because she loves him. Though the family at first impression may seem like incomplete yokels, it really is Madeline who may indeed fall short of what George needs. When a tragedy befalls the family during their visit, it is George who lifts them all up out of their despair, and Madeline who holds back. It is George they turn to, and George they idolize, and Madeline may never make the cut.
Madeline realizes that she has these shortcomings, and tries to make up for it, but it is probably already too late. We are left with a question mark that wasn't there in the beginning; one that will need many more encounters to erase, or negate, if it ever can be erased or negated. She has married someone who appeared to be happy where he was, and then she finds out he can also be happy when he is someone else entirely. In the end, it is not his family's equilibrium that has become unbalanced, by her invasive presence, it is hers. Even when she returns to the outsider artist to finalize her gallery offer, she discovers something about this husband of hers that she didn't know, and could not have predicted.
This film is finely crafted, with wonderfully subtle and multi-layered performances by all the main actors. Amy Adams, in particular, manages to infuse the character of Ashley with stunning depth and humanity. One of the best films of 2005.
Star Wars: Episode III - Revenge of the Sith (2005)
I'm glad it's over
Take a great story, cooler than cool characters, add ripping good action and what do you have? The first three Star Wars movies, Episodes 4-6. Then, take these same characters, attempt to add depth by delving into their pasts to show how it all came about, and what do you have? Episode 1, and a lot of potential for the greatest movie series ever made. Now take that same potential and layer it over with so many special effects it's hard to find the plot, and insert acting so bad it makes you grit your teeth, even when fine and experienced actors are doing it, and what do you have? Episodes 2 and 3.
Episode 1 was fantastic, and I really do wish it had foreshadowed the greatness to come in the next two. Unfortunately, it didn't. It was a superb start to a seriously disappointing remainder of the series. Hayden Christensen has to be the most wooden, unrealistic actor on the planet. He can't figure out whether to be angry, tortured, full of angst or just plain sullen, so he goes for all four at the same time for every situation. This completely negates any joy is supposed to be feeling over his beautiful wife Padme (Natalie Portman), and the impending birth of his children Luke and Leia. Not only could I not believe he cared, I couldn't believe he even understood that he was a husband and father! Not one moment of his acting was believable. Portman was fun to watch like the broadly drawn characters in a cartoon are momentarily fun to watch. Most of the time she was such a piece of cardboard that "two dimensional" would be stretching the description. Movements were strictly proscribed, precisely made and utterly (and sadly) predictable. Lines were stilted and archaic-sounding. There was not one whit of chemistry between the two lovers. Not one. How unfortunate for these two young actors, who have done so much better in other vehicles. Portman is a fine actress of incredible range. Christensen has even shown more than a few moments of competence in other films. But neither one show their worth here.
The supporting (human) cast is every bit as bad, except for Ewan McGregor. He manages, don't ask me how, to infuse as much life into Obi-Wan Kenobi as he possibly can without frying the viewer's eyeballs in ham glaze. Yet, even his lines are stilted and forced sometimes. What a waste of talent. I can say that even more emphatically for the rest: Samuel L Jackson, Jimmy Smits and Ian McDiarmid are all just completely transparent. They should have been animated. It's pretty bad when the best acting comes from the CGI creations like General Greivous and Yoda.
Ten minutes into this agonizing cinematographic exercise and I was just itching for it to end. The only thing that kept me watching, literally, were the gadgets and the creatures. Other than that, there's really nothing to watch that is worth a damn! The editing was poorly done, as well. As many millions of dollars as were spent on effects, one would think there might have been a few more spent on a decent editing job. But, no. **sigh** And my last gripe is continuity. Think about this: just how old was Obi-Wan Kenobi in the first film? He's described numerous times as "an old man." Yet, in this third episode, he's what--mid 30's? Maybe at best late 30's? And just how old is Luke Skywalker in the first film--20 at the most? And if you do the math, then what you have is a collossal error in time management here! For Obi-Wan to have been "old" in the first film, Luke would have to have been in his 40's! We see the fine and hale Obi-Wan, the fine and hale Yoda, and the very VERY young Darth Vader in Episode 3, and then--supposedly only a couple of decades (at the most!) later, they're all ELDERLY? What kind of sense did this make? Not much, in my opinion. Lucas--you screwed up. That sort of error just shows how much these first three films did not need to be made, and how risky it was to not get them right.
I was sorely disappointed in Episode III, as much or more than with Episode II, which just plain sucked. I had hoped Lucas would redeem himself, as I had heard so many people say he did--and he just...didn't. A promising beginning petered out to a galling and unworthy end. All I can say now is I'm glad it's finally over.
Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (2005)
Reliably Potter, but flawed all the same
Of all the Harry Potter films so far, this is the one with the worst problem: it is truly /the/ most poorly edited film I've ever seen. Usually, one pays little attention to editing in a good film. In a film where the plot is not well-known, the editing isn't as noticeable; this is never going to be the case with most well-known adaptations of fantasy stories like the Potter series. Familiarity with the plot points make the scene transitions seem more, not less, important. That's where this film loses me.
The bad editing makes these transitions choppy and unrealistic; this becomes really obvious toward the end of the film, and almost unbearable during the climactic emotional "ball" scene. I could have cried as the film jumped from scene to scene, and completely lost continuity in some places. What a shame. The acting is, from the vignettes I /was/ able to enjoy, superb--especially that of Emma Watson (Hermione Granger) and Rupert Grint (Ron Weasley) who gave such an emotional wallop to the romantic tension that it really hurt to watch.
The length of this book probably had a lot to do with the jumpy transitions. There was an awful lot of material to cover, to be certain; however, rather than handling the excess as the first two books did, by alluding to it, this film attempts to *include* it, albeit in a really grossly truncated form, and ends up with a whole lot of bits and pieces that don't hang together! I was appalled at the opening--the horribly shortened and completely unexplainable World Quidditch Cup scenes. They teased the viewer with incredible special effects, then abruptly abandoned them in less than 10 minutes of film--and didn't look back! I was left wondering who pulled the rug out from under me. And that was only the beginning. The rest of the film followed suit, ruining what might have been a wonderful viewing experience. Even the actors looked confused. I wonder when this film is released on DVD how long the "deleted scenes" section will be--it /ought/ to be at least 45 minutes! Aside from this major (and truly ruinous) flaw, the film is reliably a Harry Potter film. The characters act as they ought, the special effects are fantastic (and why shouldn't they be?) and the way is paved for the next film, and the next. **sigh** Where is Alphonse Cuaron when you need him?
Sordid Lives (2000)
A miss, not a hit
This film might have been a merciless skewering of Texas white-trash culture, but instead, manages none of the wit or affection such a parody would require. Instead, it is barely able to hold its head above water as a bad TV movie. It lacks continuity, flow, and decent camera work, and that's just on the technical side; it also falls sadly short of a believable plot or smooth transitions from one story arc to another. What we are left with, after these items are minused out, is a hashed story and poor production. And we haven't even discussed the plot problems.
Grandma Peggy has upped and died, after tripping over her lover's wooden legs in a sleazy motel room. The lover, GW Nethercott, (Beau Bridges) is a lush and a jerk, but his wife Noleta (Delta Burke) must love him anyway, even though she seems hell-bent on revenge instead of forgiveness. This plot point makes very little sense, and feels as if it was inserted after the rest of the screenplay was written, to provide some sort of reason that we have to allow Bridges to play his thoroughly detestable character. The family gathers for the funeral, and sisters Latrelle (Bonnie Bedeliashe must have needed cash badly to sink this low,) and LaVonda (Ann Walkerditto about the cash,) fight like harpies over trivial crap, in front of Peggy's sister Sissy (Beth Grant, in one of the few able performances of the film,) who quickly reaches her boiling point. Latrelle is a conservative fundamentalist (of course) and LaVonda a loose cannon who is more irritating than interesting. The film descends very quickly into a scream-fest that is utterly shrill and predictable. Then, abruptly, it shifts focus to Latrelle's gay son Ty,(Kirk Geiger) in therapy because he can't seem to reconcile being gay and being from Texas. There are some genuinely poignant moments in this therapy session, but they can't rescue the plot, since they seem jarringly out of place after the cartoonish beginning. Of course, he has to show up at the funeral, and we have no doubt he will, but we can't seem to drum up any interest in what might happen when he does. After being subjected to this pathos, the film once again makes an abrupt shift to Earl "Brother Boy," (Leslie Jordan) a screaming transvestite, who has been locked up in a mental institution for over 20 years, being "worked on" by a predatory therapist who wants to turn him heterosexual so she can be on Oprah. He is so broadly drawn that we have a hard time being sympathetic to either him OR Ty. Of course, we all know he will be released just in time to sashay down the church aisle in heels and blonde wig during the viewing hours. Then, once again, the film shifts like a California fault line back to the sisters and a badly-done parody of Thelma and Louise, starring LaVonda and Noleta. They get jailed for their hijinks, to no one's surprise.
The only performance in the film that was surprising and interesting was that of Bitsy Mae Harling (a well-disguised Olivia Newton-John) who provides a sort of Greek chorus soundtrack for the background of nearly every scene. I almost didn't recognize her with the numerous earrings, tight tank top, red lacy bra peeking out, tattoos and constant cud-like gum-chewing. Even her voice seemed disguised. Probably just as well under the circumstances. The title song which she performs, is badly rhymed and after the third repetition, feels like a hammer over the head.
All in all, not worth much unless you get to see it for free.
Wilbur Wants to Kill Himself (2002)
A very different love story
Wilbur, who is seemingly unreasonably yet persistently suicidal, cannot live with himself. Harbour, his caring and gentle brother, can't live without Wilbur. The deaths of their parents has affected both brothers differently, making one unable to live normally, and the other unable to live without the abnormality of having someone to care for. Into this dysfunction comes Alice, a struggling single parent who has a sad sweetness that Harbour cannot resist. They woo, and marry, and as their happiness begins to infuse the lives of all four, a family begins to take shape, despite the resistance that each feels. It is from the quadrangle they form that Wilbur finally finds what is missing in his own life, and wants what his brother has so easily grasped: that love, in the forms and shapes around us, is all that will eventually make life worth living. So enlightened, he unwittingly grabs hold of his brother's love, and takes some for his own; Alice, though guilty, is not unwilling. She has fallen in love with both brothers, equally, but differently. Her daughter, somewhat underplayed, becomes a pivot around which the three focus their energies, trying desperately not to hurt each other anymore than will be absolutely necessary. A bit of deus ex machina takes over (or perhaps it is simply fate stepping in?) and Harbour must bow out due to incurable cancer of the pancreas. It's hard to watch both the despair, as well as hope, rising in both Wilbur's and Alice's eyes as they find out what the ultimate conclusion will be; and they struggle with both their guilt and their excitement. But Alice does not waiver in her love for Harbour, and even though they /can/ hurt him, neither she nor Wilbur is willing to go that far. What will become of Wilbur and Alice and the child? It is not obvious. It hurts to watch the transitions each makes in their thought processes at times, but would any of us have done any differently? Still, there is satisfaction in the ending and one is left with the aftertaste of something larger than oneself probably knowing more and better than we do. Though the story can be a bit contrived, it is worth watching. We aren't brought to tears by the poignancy, nor are we appalled by the actions of the characters; we are simply aware that they are human,and fallible. That's enough sometimes.
Kukushka (2002)
A delightful and provocative film
It is rare that a film as simply plotted as The Cuckoo could be so affecting. Subtitled films often lack the subtlety of their original language, but the translation of this film is not only well done, it has its own quirky spin that gives it an extra dimension. The story is easy to grasp and seamlessly portrayed. Except for the very beginning, in which it is not known exactly why Veikko is being chained to his rock (unless you read the description of the film or watch the commentary in the DVD's special features,) the story catches your mind and heart immediately: three unlikely people meet and live together in harmony, despite being unable to understand the native languages each speaks. Though there are some humorous moments and some comic twists, generally, this story is one of accommodation and cooperation. The Finnish soldier, the Russian officer and the Sami woman all manage to make a life for themselves through the hardships inflicted by World War II, and in the end, nothing but the love and friendship shines out from their (sometimes) unwilling and often difficult partnership. The plot is best left to individual discovery by the viewer, rather than recounted here. Suffice it to say that this film will touch you in ways other films of grander scale could not. An excellent and well-played and extraordinarily satisfying story that raises the ultimate question of life on this planet: why can't we just all get along?
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004)
A bad movie that might make you physically ill
This film coulda been a contenduh......but not as produced.
The premise wasn't bad. What happens when a relationship fails, and you want to erase all the memories of it from your mind? Can you? Can you cope with what happens when you try?
Shy, sweet, backward Joel Barish (Jim Carrey) and crazy, impulsive, freedom-loving Clementine Kruczynski (Kate Winslet) have this problem. Their relationship falls apart and Clementine has Joel erased at a company called "Lacuna" (Latin for 'pit', medical term for 'gap or missing part'.) Joel, at first baffled by her behavior, finds out and has /her/ erased. But he can't erase the longing, the yearning and the regret--it is still there, though now it has nothing to attach itself to. This, according to the filmmakers, can make a person depressed. Not that the principles of this movie aren't /already/ depressed. They certainly seem to be having a difficult time coping with normal life(Winslet's character actually seems to be psychotic in some scenes, and Carrey retreats from life at a breakneck pace at times;) but imagine, if you will, that this depression deepens and lingers and makes it difficult to function in even normal situations.
Basically, those are the bones of the film. Bad relationship. Erase the memories. Cope with results. Stir in a sub-plot about (hold on to your hats here,) a bad relationship...erasing those memories...trying to cope with those results...and yet another subplot about (no, I'm NOT kidding) a BAD RELATIONSHIP, which is most certainly headed for erasure...yes, it's THAT repetitious. Filmmaker Michael Gondry has absolutely nothing new to tell us. Relationships--he seems to want us to know because he keeps hitting us over the head with this huge hammer --sometimes fail. Well, duh.
Carrey is competent, as is Winslet, but they have minimal chemistry together. Also, there is very little reason to think even for a moment, that the relationship that Joel Barish finds with Clementine is affecting enough for either one of them that they would have this much trouble forgetting each other, let alone need to have their memories erased completely. Given that very basic, but totally unsupported premise, the rest of the movie just falls apart, logically and emotionally.
And when you add to this the incredibly annoying hand-held camera technique that the filmmakers thought was necessary to show the difference between 'real' (?) and 'memory' lives, you have a film that makes you flinch, fidget and blink about 15 minutes into it and doesn't let up until 35 seconds before the ending. If you stick it out, it might even make you physically nauseated from all the visual disturbances it creates! It's not only like watching the sinking ship of a bad relationship, (hell--it's more like watching the sinking of the entire Spanish ARMADA,) but you also get the seasickness to go along with it.
That I could definitely have done without. It ruined the whole experience.
Other performers are just wasted. Kirsten Dunst as Mary, the nurse at Lacuna who is hopelessly involved with Doctor Mierzwiak (Tom Wilkinson;) Patrick (Elijah Wood,) who is in love with Clementine as well; and Mark Ruffalo a technician who is in love with Dunst's character, all have such thin parts that no development is possible, and the film resorts to whacking you over the head with their stories too. You get whacked a lot in this movie.
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind might have had potential, but it is ruined by gimmick and an immature vision of reality that just doesn't gel into a reason, or set of reasons, for the action involved, and by camera techinique that ought to be banned for any but the smallest screens. Nearly everyone in attendance at this film was looking somewhere other than at the screen, or asleep. Or they walked out for relief from the visual gymnastics.
I don't recommend it, and I hope these filmmakers grow up a little before attempting another film.
Big Fish (2003)
It has no idea what it wants to be
I have to start this by saying that Tim Burton has always been one of my favorite directors. I like his skewed point of view, his Edward Gorey-ish surrealism, his way he will show the not merely odd in his films but also the unpleasant, the ugly, and the weirdly bizarre, and show them in a lovable, accepting manner that makes them sometimes hauntingly fascinating. Instead of that "train wreck you can't look away from" feeling, Burton always leaves you with a voyeuristic sense that makes you want to watch his films more than once, to see the things you missed the first time. Instead of hammering away at the viewer with the weirdness of the characters, Burton lets the personalities speak for themselves; and perhaps this works because his characters have always been inherently likeable.
Not so this time with his latest effort, Big Fish.
To tell this nested set of stories, Burton assembled a cast that is top notch: Ewan McGregor as the young Edward Bloom, Albert Finney as the elderly Edward Bloom, Jessica Lange as Bloom's wife Sandra, Billy Crudup as their son William Bloom; with a host of minor roles filled by such notable performers as Robert Guillaume, Danny DeVito, Helena Bonham Carter, and Steve Buscemi. He even includes folksinger Louden Wainwright III in a not-so-invisible role, for what reason I cannot imagine, and insists on spelling his name incorrectly throughout the entire film's opening AND closing credits. This puzzled me a great deal.
In fact, I was puzzled many times throughout the film, but mostly after, when I should have been nodding and smiling, and not wanting to wait until it came out on DVD; instead, I was itching to leave the theater as soon as possible, and sat there with a distinct frown on my face when it finally ended.
Very /few/ films have made me feel as if I wanted to leave. No matter how bad a film is, I rarely walk out on it. Maybe that was the problem with Big Fish; it really isn't BAD. It's pretty. But it's also hollow. You keep watching, and watching and watching, hoping that it will eventually turn into the film you think it should be, then it ends and you realize it never will.
Basically, the story line is simple enough. Edward Bloom is a storyteller. He tells stories about his own life, and adventures, and entertains for decades with these fantastical tales--first his friends, then his wife, then his own son, William. But as William grows up, he becomes irritated with, then angry about, these "lies" that he was told. He wants to know the "real" father--the one that he can't see for all the stories that he feels act as a smokescreen. Yet, he cannot get any closer to the truth, so he falls away from his father emotionally, until his mother phones him to tell him that his father is now dying.
So William packs his suitcase and pregnant wife and moves back home to help sort out the end of his father's life. Immediately, he is faced with the same stories, the same lies, the same fantastic tales of his father's adventures, and cruelly and selfishly cuts the old man off time after time. He refuses to accept either the stories, OR the magic they contain, and most of all, the fact that they are very entertaining stories. But he is forced to remember the stories, as his father relates them to William's wife, who seems to be entranced by them, and him.
As the stories get told, we are 'treated' to them. ALL OF THEM. These are not SHORT stories. These stories are long, they are convoluted, they have many moments that make you want to question Edward as he tells them, and they contain many many MANY dead ends that lead---and this is the really frustrating part---nowhere at all. And they go on and ON.
For example, take the story about his walk down the "haunted road." Edward ploughs his way through mists, and trees that grab him (literally) and strange sounds and (ick and double ick!!) a HUGE nest of large black jumping spiders (!!) and a town that shouldn't even exist, and these things get barely a mention at all (except for the town.) The entire time, the voice-over is yammering on and on about perseverance. About ANOTHER story that was told earlier. About NOTHING. After several dozen of these sorts of scenes, you are left with a feeling that you are missing the point--if you knew where to look, maybe it would pop out at you. But it never does. Because it isn't there. You are constantly trying to reconcile what you are seeing with what you are hearing.
In fact, if you removed the soundtrack and voicetrack from this film entirely, and just WATCHED it, you'd be so puzzled you wouldn't be able to make sense of the plot--but what you /would/ have was an entirely different impression of what was really happening! This feeling of being pulled in two different directions is not only unsettling, it's highly irritating.
The film has two major flaws in addition to this. First, it is about the South--to be precise, Alabama. There is an ingrained "southernness" about the movie that needs to be there, because there are several references in it that would only make sense in the Southern U.S. Yet, Burton uses three British actors, one from New Jersey, and a New Yorker, and only ONE person has even a HINT of an Alabamian accent. He doesn't go so far as to allow his Brits to speak with their normal accents, but they don't do "Suth'n" either. And neither Albert Finney NOR Danny DeVito speak in consistent accents. Devito wavers from exaggerated hillbilly to his usual "Noo Joisey" intonation, and Finney can't decide where he's from. This smacked of really shoddy dialogue coaching, and did nothing for the continuity.
Second, the film is FAR FAR TOO LONG. It needs a good edit. The pace is snaillike, the acting sometimes seems improvised and directionless. And it just has no idea what it's supposed to be ABOUT most of the time.
There are many little oddities all through the film: a street shown briefly in one scene mirrors one seen in Edward Scissorhands; The 'martial arts' in the Chinese army scene is idiotically choreographed; the "twins" seem to change size in their various scenes, as does the giant. The "banjo man" on the porch in Spectre is not only playing the song from "Deliverance," he IS the young man who played the banjo in "Deliverance!" And why Louden Wainwright? Did Burton owe him a favor? He's no actor. He sticks out like a sore thumb among those who ARE actors.
There are things that make /no/ sense, visually OR plot-wise. Why does the kid steal shoes? Who, or what, is that naked "fish woman?" How can so many barefoot people dancing on grass make so much noise? What's up with the bits about Edward's need for water--about feeling "dry"? (He soaks in a tub, fully clothed!) Even some of the camera angles are downright awkward--as if an amateur camera operator had been given free rein to be as "arty" as he wanted to be.
And probably the weirdest one of all: Tim Burton has made another movie about someone named Edward.
None of these little items, or the other dozens of such things, are explained or illuminated in the film, especially not at the end, when one might expect them to become clear, or at least say why they cannot be clear. They are simply /there/. And they build irritation throughout the course of this very long film, and the pacing is slow, slow, slow. Never have I felt so much like getting up and leaving a film, just to take a break from it all.
This film isn't a fantasy. It's not an allegory. It's not a drama. It's not a comedy. It's not even a decent Tim Burton film! The characters aren't all that likeable or believable; if Jessica Lange had ducked and nodded and smiled ONE MORE TIME in that film, I'd have thrown a tomato at the screen. And NO ONE--I repeat NO ONE--should have to see Danny Devito NAKED, OR repeatedly watch Albert Finney slurping.
I really wanted to like this film. From the previews, it looked like an entirely different film than the one I saw. It looked lighter, more magical, more surreal. Instead, it was a hodge-podge of bad writing, uncertain goals, unexplained events and senseless details. It just didn't gel.
A Mighty Wind (2003)
Dead-on skewering of the folk music scene in the 60's
We all know that this is a Christopher Guest film, a mockumentary of the music industry, and that he has had successes with his other films (Waiting for Guffman, This is Spinal Tap;) so there is no reason to rehash the obvious. What isn't obvious about this film, especially if you have not lived through or been involved with the folk music scene, is how deadly accurate, (and therefore extraordinarily funny) it is.
The plot is familiar territory: it's a reunion of three major folk-music groups of the 60's, to honor the life of deceased promoter Irving Steinbloom. The groups represent the evolution of folk in its earliest stages: the sweater-vested ensemble singing (the "neuftet")of The Main Street Singers, a sort of sickly-sweet, terminally upbeat version of the Serendipity Singers; The Folksmen, a trio of genial guys a la Kingston Trio; and finally, Mitch and Mickey, a sort of "enter the counterculture" introduction to Ian and Sylvia. Their portrayal of the styles, the attitudes and music of these three groups is so unbelievably accurate it is difficult not to believe that they actually ARE the groups they are parodying. What is even funnier and more amazing is the way they have evolved over the intervening years between initial fame and the reunion concert. If anything, Guest's genius in drawing character out of caricature is more finely tuned than it's ever been, even more so than in what is considered his masterwork, This is Spinal Tap.
The folk scene of both yesterday and today is beautifully rendered. I say beautiful in the sense of someone witnessing the perfect practical joke, or hearing the perfect comback to a heckler--as in "Man--that was BEAUTIFUL!" I was holding my sides laughing several times during this film, because not only have I known and worked with these people, I still do--and they still exist! Throughout the film I kept 'recognizing' people I knew, or people I had listened to or people I still know.
If you've ever had anything to do with folk music, New Age religion, or the 1960's, you will enjoy this film--provided you have a healthy sense of humor and can see it for what it is: a dead-on skewering of the genre and the people who created it. It's a delicious piece of work by a master parodist, peopled with gifted actors and musicians who pull every nuance they can from their characters to make them real people.
Even the music is good--accurate and faithful to the originals. From "Old Joe's Place" to "A Kiss at the End of the Rainbow", you will laugh and remember, and be amazed at the precision with which Christopher Guest aims his arrows. He hits his target every single time.
This film is a little gem of a movie, one I will surely purchase to watch again and again. I recommend it highly.
Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood (2002)
Well-done Ashley Judd!
Although this film, adapted from both Rebecca Wells books, (The Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood and Little Altars Everywhere) pulls enough punches to drive a bookie nuts in Vegas, it still manages to push all the right buttons and provide a stage for Ashley Judd, who shines as a real actress at long last.
Ms. Judd has starred in a long series of extremely mediocre films, and a short list of really bad ones. So far, she has failed to impress with her acting ability in any of them. In Ya-Ya, however, she glows with an inner fire that ought to earn her an academy award nomination. What's disappointing, unfortunately, is that even though her performance is superb, the film itself is just good, and not great.
The plot mechanics are well-known by now: Siddalee Walker, (Sandra Bullock) manages to p*** off her volatile mother Vivi Walker Abbot (Ellen Burstyn) from a distance by giving an interview that describes her childhood as less than perfect. The feud is a long-standing one, borne of much tribulation, and the interview threatens to be the last straw in an already fragile relationship. Added to this is the problem that Sidda has about marriage--her long-term relationship with Connor (Angus McFeyden) wants to blossom into a real marriage, but she's unsure and unable to commit, fearing that she will turn into all the bad versions of her mother if she gets married. This is cold-feet syndrome gone slightly potty, beacause as anyone can see without trying very hard, Connor is absolutely perfect. Sidda obviously needs help, and the Ya-Ya's (Maggie Smith, Fionnula Flanagan, and Shirley Knight), her mother's lifelong friends, step in to help repair not only Sidda's rift with her mother, but also her fear of marriage.
The Ya-Ya's have plenty of experience to offer, in the form of a huge scrapbook, which, after kidnapping Sidda and whisking her off to Louisiana, they force her to examine; it does, of course, eventually change everything she thinks and feels about her life, her parents, her own fears and shortcomings, and naturally, Connor.
That embodies my only gripe with this film: its sweetness and light. It's not as pat as Steel Magnolias, nor as weepy. You won't need a box of Kleenex while watching it. But--it's certainly far FAR less dark and forbidding than Rebecca Wells' novels, which were downright perverse in spots. The film glosses over some of the rougher memories that Vivi and her friends share: her alcoholism (which is the root of many of her problems) and her depression and breakdown, and her child abuse, which was almost "forgiven" by circumstance in the film, (but not, thank goodness, in the book.) Vivi is likable in the film. So are Sidda, Shep, Caro, Necie and Teensy--and the rest of the cast. In their original form, as envisioned by Wells, they are all much harder to like, and therefore their stories are much more deeply satisfying when you end up liking them despite all their faults.
Even so, this is a good film. It stands on its own, and honors the books it was taken from with a decently-written, though thin, adaptation. The other actors' performances, particularly Maggie Smith's and the other three Ya-Ya's, are noteworthy, as is James Garner's as Shep.
And Ashley Judd is just a wonder to watch. It's worth the price of admission just to see her alone. I recommend it to women, particularly, and urge everyone who sees it to also read the books for the better, and more in-depth, version.
Minority Report (2002)
Finally, a satisfying Spielberg
At last, a movie that will satisfy and thrill, that will fill you up with special effects and still manage to tickle your brain cells as well.
Minority Report is one of the best sci-fi films made in the last 20 years. Tom Cruise gives a multi-layered, humanistic performance as Pre-crime detective John Anderton, a man bruised to the bone by grief and driven by the necessity of his work. Anderton is compelled to be perfect at his job, ever since the death of his young son years earlier. He knows he's good, and so does everyone else, especially the young FBI agent who wants Anderton's job for himself and tries to discredit him.
The action is intelligent, not noisy and flashy. The special effects, most notably the car-chase scene, are just dazzling, but not so much fantasy that they strike a false note.
The plot is beautifully put together, weaving two stories into one, and chugging along seamlessly, without any noticeable holes or questions afterward. Rarely is a film so well constructed that it raises no questions, but this one is just such a film. All your questions are answered, and without any "deus ex machina" plot devices.
The supporting cast is excellent. Max von Sydow, as Pre-crime Director Lamar Burgess, gives a classy, well-drawn performance, as does Samantha Morton, the sensitive, fragile pre-cog, who tries to help Anderton beat the frameup which threatens to put him away forever.
The future in this film is a completely believable one, for a change; unlike the one in A.I., Spielberg's last attempt at a sci-fi film. There is enough of this world still left in the future world of Minority Report that we know where we are, and can relate to it. That makes this film all the more believable and realistic.
I heartily applaud this effort. Well worth seeing more than once, and deserving of some greater recognition than it probably will get. A superior film.
Insomnia (2002)
Almost, but not quite
The film Insomnia, based on an earlier Norwegian film, is an almost winner.
By acclaimed directed Christopher Nolan, (Memento,) this is a bet that almost, but not quite, pays off, in the sense of waiting for the "other shoe to drop." It is not so much a murder mystery as it is a character study, but, as with the rest of the film, it's almost but not quite that, also.
Al Pacino is Detective Will Dormer, who has been summoned to Nightmute, Alaska by an old friend to help solve the murder of a 17-year-old girl. Pacino is a man on the verge of many things: retirement, age, and moral collapse, as we learn early on. He and his partner, Hap Eckhart (Martin Donovan) are being investigated by Internal Affairs back in Los Angeles. On the way to Alaska, Hap informs Dormer that he intends to "cut a deal" and take whatever comes of it. This doesn't please Dormer in the slightest, and he gives the impression he'll fight the investigation, and his partner's selling-out, but fate has a different idea. Early in the investigation, Dormer accidentally shoots Hap. With his partner now dead, Dormer has nothing more to fear from IA. Or so he imagines.
Enter Walter Finch, played by Robin Williams; he is the main suspect in the murder, and has also seen the shooting of Hap, or so he informs Dormer. Now the plot will weave around these two, almost exclusively, as they play their game of manipulation and one-upmanship. And here's where the film begins to lose its own compass.
First, I had a bit of a problem with the fact that the two detectives from L.A. were in Alaska to begin with. Supposedly, this is an official trip, but I have trouble believing that the Los Angeles Police Dept would send two of its people to Alaska for such a mundane reason. Yes, it's murder, but the ease with which these two solve the case and pinpoint the murderer is just so fast that it's hard to believe the Alaskans couldn't have done the same, and done it sooner. Second, the character of Ellie Burr, (Hilary Swank) who has made a study of Detective Dormer's work for her academy thesis, is just a little too worshipful. And what a coincidence that she should be there in Nightmute, involved in this case. It's a little too contrived, in my opinion. Hilary Swank, a wonderful actress, is overqualified for the wide-eyed wonderment she portrays here. There's not enough depth in her character to hold your interest.
Third, we never really get a chance to pick apart Finch, Robin Williams' character. We only know a little about him, but nothing essential, and nothing that adds to our understanding of why he committed this foul deed in the first place, or what is driving him to do what he does. We come into this situation, "in the middle" and leave it pretty much the same way when the movie ends. There's a solution, but no enlightenment.
There are two other interesting characters that also tease us into wanting to know more, but never give up any information beyond that: the hotel desk clerk, played by Maura Tierney, and Police Chief Nyback, played by Paul Dooley, are both characters I would have liked to see developed into "whole" people. Especially Tierney's character, who says one of the most fascinating lines in the film, something about how people in Alaska are either born there or are there because they've escaped something a lot worse. With a lead-in like that, it was a shame not to follow up on it.
Mostly, we are treated (?) to extreme closeups of Pacino as he spirals down into his insomniac, ethical black-hole, and teasers of the menace Robin Williams might actually be hiding underneath that parka. In neither case is it enough, or satisfying, and as the film winds down into its inevitable conclusion, we are left with a hollow feeling that we just didn't get enough. We can draw conclusions, but they are not the point; the point is what makes these things happen in the first place, and that's a question that goes unanswered.
Additionally, there are some recurring cut-scenes of the murder itself, which are never explained or illuminated. They appear as memory flashes, but we never see them in their entirety, which is extremely annoying. Overall, the film looked as if it were originally a lot longer, and was edited down to fit its current time. If that's not the case, then it's just too minimalist to make a satisfying story.
The plot is, or could be, a very good one, with a bit more explanation. There is a lot of atmospheric buildup, but in the end, not much suspense or tension for the viewer. The characters tease us with development, never quite making us understand them, or their motives; they feel thinly painted, and shadowy. Not a tour-de-force for director Nolan, though Pacino and Williams give their parts all the nuances they can.
I left wanting more.
A.I. Artificial Intelligence (2001)
You've seen this story before, done by Walt Disney, and done better.
You've seen this story before--it's the story of Pinocchio, this time set in the far future, using cybernetics instead of woodcarving. All the elements are still there: kindly "Gepetto" (William Hurt as the robotics scientist), the "bad boy" (Jude Law as Gigolo Joe) the evil circus man (the Flesh Fair operator), the cute sidekick creature (Teddy), even the huge whale(seen briefly underwater.) Haley Joel Osment plays David/Pinocchio, the robot boy who wants to be a "real" boy, straining his eye muscles to look as innocent and guileless as possible, and stretching his acting muscles to be as loving and pathetic as he can be. Trouble is, the cartoon Pinocchio was a far more satisfying film than AI. This film fails in two ways: first by never addressing its biggest question: WHY would anyone want a robot that could love? and secondly, by doing it with manipulative special effects. These combine to make the viewer feel cheated and leaves one hungry for what isn't there.
The FX is astonishing at times, and provides the only reason to see this film. The cinematography is truly futuristic, artfully done. They spare no expense to set the scene, but there is no substance in the story--just one effect after another, and a lot of missed opportunities. What could have been a truly great film veers off into a lot of sentimentality, over-long even tedious explanation, and deus ex machina endings that patronize the audience. By the end of the film you want to go drink a cup of vinegar to rid yourself of the cloying taste.
It's unfortunate that Spielberg, for all his skill, could not flesh out this story as easily as he fleshes out his robots.
O Brother, Where Art Thou? (2000)
The ODDyssey of Humour
This is perhaps the strangest version of Homer's Odyssey I have ever seen. Set in the rural south of the 1930's, George Clooney plays the character who is just trying to get back home to his wife and daughters (The Wharvey Gals and Penny Wharvey, played by the three cutest kids I've ever seen on film and Holly Hunter,) who are about to be whisked away by their "new daddy". The odyssey is very loosely referred to throughout the film. John Goodman plays the "cyclops" (a one-eyed Bible salesman who mugs our hero and his friend,) the incredibly beautiful and erotic "sirens" are three luscious women washing clothes and singing by the stream, and there's even some divine intervention. Through it all, George Clooney searches for "hair pomade", manages to inadvertently cut a hit record, and finds himself in more "tight spots" than Wile E. Coyote.
Although the plot seems completely far-fetched at times, the humour is sophisticated and subtle, even intellectual, and the whole thing works to present a film which will delight you, amuse you and have you talking for weeks afterward.