The film Singin’ in the Rain wove several established hits into a movie musical about the advent of the talkies. With The Artist, we have a non-musical version that uses the medium of silent film to tell its story: a world famous silent film star finds his world forever changed by the arrival of talking pictures. But what the film lacks in color and dialogue it makes up for in style, story, and performance.
With all of the recent awards The Artist has received and/or for which it has been nominated, it is all I can do to support its nominations and assure you that they are well-deserved. To pull off a silent film with such authenticity is nearly unimaginable, and yet director/writer Michel Hazanavicius has succeeded. And this is no Cast Away - aching hours without dialogue - but a charming romp in 30s Hollywoodland. Those familiar with cinema history will appreciate the iconic references the film utilizes, including imagery borrowed from Douglas Fairbanks films and Orson Welles’ Citizen Kane. I already mentioned Singin’ in the Rain, which told nearly the same story.
I could effuse about the many virtues of the film’s costume design, art direction, and cinematography... but instead, I will give you the highlights.
For their parts, Jean Dujardin and Bérénice Bejo supply a vitality that hasn’t been seen onscreen since Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman. A casual, comfortable charm that is irresistable. Dujardin harkens back to Fairbanks, William Powell, Gene Kelly, and Clark Gable. Bejo is maybe more modern than the average 30s starlet, but her enthusiasm is palpable. Both stars have a presence that vibrates onscreen, as do some of the supporting actors whose familiar faces obviously belong there. John Goodman, James Cromwell, and Malcolm McDowell - all reliably wonderful. McDowell’s role verges on ‘cameo,’ and I wouldn’t have minded seeing more of John Goodman’s character. It is strange to watch them without hearing their voices - though without them, they do just fine.
The unnamed character in the film is the score. The original music by Ludovic Bource is exceptional - evocative and emotional, appropriate for the period but appealing to contemporary audiences. The fact that the score communicates so much emotion and functions as an atmospheric guide makes it vital to the film’s success - I will be highly surprised and disappointed if the Oscar goes to another composer.
I would venture to say that the film’s only fault is its reliance on convention. The famous plot twists unravel too quickly, and it’s too easy to see where it’s going. As delightful as the performances are, it might not be enough to sustain the interest of some viewers. Still, far worse films have told the story in a much less satisfying way. Best Picture? Maybe, maybe not; It is an enjoyable movie about making movies, about how far we’ve come and how much we owe to those who came before. With so many movies today being made by and for the celebrities in them, it’s nice to see a picture devoted to The Artist.
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Super 8
Few filmmakers have the ability to make an action movie that is truly carried by a story, and is not just a series of explosions or shots of panic and chaos. J.J. Abrams is one of the few. His became a household name with the success of television’s Alias, and he gained international fame with his lovingly adapted reboot of Star Trek. He’s an acknowledged nerd-type, and for that we love him. His dedication and passion for cinema is absolutely evident in Super 8, one of the most satisfying action adventure movies I’ve ever seen. The five teen/pre-teen actors that carry the film are Goonies caliber, really unique and believable with wide-eyed youthful zeal. They’re feisty and predictable in the way you want your friends to be: they’re reliable. Yes, it’s a monster movie. Yes, it has kind of a Disneyfied ending. But it’s been earned I think, through the hard work and courage of the characters.
Joe is planning to spend the summer working on his best friend’s movie – a home-made zombie flick that interests even Alice Deinard, who agrees to take on the role of the detective’s wife. The actors and crew, a team of six friends, sneak off for the train depot at midnight, planning to shoot some new scenes for the zombie movie. It’s more than they bargained for, when they’re nearly killed in the fallout from a massive train crash. Not only that, but it seems that their biology teacher was harboring a secret that could put each of their lives in even greater danger. While Joe and his friends try to finish the movie, Joe’s father, the sheriff’s deputy, finds himself looking for answers that the Air Force, who is investigating the train crash, is not willing to provide. Of course, making a movie is one thing. Saving your friends’ lives is another.
Abrams wanted a nostalgic feel to the film, but he’s better than that. Super 8 is not only set in the 80s, but it mostly has the feel of being made then as well. Even Joel Courtney as Joe reminded me of Henry Thomas in E.T. (note that Spielberg is a producer on Super 8). Joe and his ragtag friends perfectly evoke The Sandlot, Stand by Me, and The Goonies. American classics complete with train tracks, rivalries, that one loose cannon, and the father who can’t quite connect with his son. What could be more traditional than that? And if Alice Deinard looks familiar, it’s probably because she’s played by Elle Fanning (Dakota’s sister).
There’s not too much more to say without giving away some of the film’s surprises. Much to my satisfaction Super 8 is more action-adventure than scary movie, as the trailer had led me to believe. Don’t you hate how misleading those things can be? Just goes to show you can’t always believe what you see. Though in the world of Super 8, some things simply have to be seen to be believed.
Joe is planning to spend the summer working on his best friend’s movie – a home-made zombie flick that interests even Alice Deinard, who agrees to take on the role of the detective’s wife. The actors and crew, a team of six friends, sneak off for the train depot at midnight, planning to shoot some new scenes for the zombie movie. It’s more than they bargained for, when they’re nearly killed in the fallout from a massive train crash. Not only that, but it seems that their biology teacher was harboring a secret that could put each of their lives in even greater danger. While Joe and his friends try to finish the movie, Joe’s father, the sheriff’s deputy, finds himself looking for answers that the Air Force, who is investigating the train crash, is not willing to provide. Of course, making a movie is one thing. Saving your friends’ lives is another.
Abrams wanted a nostalgic feel to the film, but he’s better than that. Super 8 is not only set in the 80s, but it mostly has the feel of being made then as well. Even Joel Courtney as Joe reminded me of Henry Thomas in E.T. (note that Spielberg is a producer on Super 8). Joe and his ragtag friends perfectly evoke The Sandlot, Stand by Me, and The Goonies. American classics complete with train tracks, rivalries, that one loose cannon, and the father who can’t quite connect with his son. What could be more traditional than that? And if Alice Deinard looks familiar, it’s probably because she’s played by Elle Fanning (Dakota’s sister).
There’s not too much more to say without giving away some of the film’s surprises. Much to my satisfaction Super 8 is more action-adventure than scary movie, as the trailer had led me to believe. Don’t you hate how misleading those things can be? Just goes to show you can’t always believe what you see. Though in the world of Super 8, some things simply have to be seen to be believed.
Submarine
Director and adaptor Richard Ayoude may be most familiar to audiences as Moss from the BBC comedy series The IT Crowd. The socially backward man with an enormous fro and glasses. What was I to expect from Ayoude’s first feature film? I had very little to go on, other than the clear genre cues reading ‘indie.’ As it turns out, Submarine is a little like the lovechild of Amelie and High Fidelity. Ayoude cites The Graduate and Catcher in the Rye as influences, and they are apt references for this coming of age story.
When it rains, it pours, doesn’t it? In 1986 Wales, Oliver Tate has his first girlfriend, but his parents’ relationship is on the rocks; his mother’s old flame is in town and his father’s depression lingers. As an only child of awkward parents, Oliver feels it is up to him to save his parents’ marriage – never mind his own relationship. Oliver’s romantic interest, Jordana, is the girl who plays with matches, a girl too cool to be considered an outcast, but not interested enough to be a queen bee, detached and tortured like a Fitzgerald heroine. But Jordana has her own problems, and things only seem to get worse at home for Oliver.
Ayoude is more than capable as a director and screenwriter. Submarine starts with a solid foundation – the script having been adapted from the novel – and builds upon it. Ayoude is content to let the actors he has chosen be their characters, and has given them the confidence to do so. Craig Roberts is excellent as Oliver, self-possessed, well-intentioned, and principled. It’s refreshing, since in America Submarine would have ended up just another Michael Cera movie. Instead we have a frustrated young man, wiser than his peers, struggling to make sense of relationships. (Aren’t we all…) As Jordana, Yasmin Paige is brooding and reminds me of the femme fatale in Brick. The supporting cast is just right; Ayoude must have been attentive to every detail, I especially enjoyed Noah Taylor as Oliver’s father. Now, whether the film’s style comes from Ayoude’s interpretation of the material or whether he turns out to be a one-trick-Wes-Anderson-pony remains to be seen. I’d like to know what’s up next for the director.
As for Submarine: it’s good! I can’t say that I feel any desire to read the source material, as some adaptations may inspire, but it is a lovely little film. In the DVD featurette, Ayoude says he has a soft spot for stories that take place at this time in a character’s life – these tales of self-discovery and growth. I can’t say that I share his affection, but I do enjoy a well-made movie. Somewhere between Pirate Radio (or The Boat That Rocked) and Billy Elliot lies Submarine. Dive in.
When it rains, it pours, doesn’t it? In 1986 Wales, Oliver Tate has his first girlfriend, but his parents’ relationship is on the rocks; his mother’s old flame is in town and his father’s depression lingers. As an only child of awkward parents, Oliver feels it is up to him to save his parents’ marriage – never mind his own relationship. Oliver’s romantic interest, Jordana, is the girl who plays with matches, a girl too cool to be considered an outcast, but not interested enough to be a queen bee, detached and tortured like a Fitzgerald heroine. But Jordana has her own problems, and things only seem to get worse at home for Oliver.
Ayoude is more than capable as a director and screenwriter. Submarine starts with a solid foundation – the script having been adapted from the novel – and builds upon it. Ayoude is content to let the actors he has chosen be their characters, and has given them the confidence to do so. Craig Roberts is excellent as Oliver, self-possessed, well-intentioned, and principled. It’s refreshing, since in America Submarine would have ended up just another Michael Cera movie. Instead we have a frustrated young man, wiser than his peers, struggling to make sense of relationships. (Aren’t we all…) As Jordana, Yasmin Paige is brooding and reminds me of the femme fatale in Brick. The supporting cast is just right; Ayoude must have been attentive to every detail, I especially enjoyed Noah Taylor as Oliver’s father. Now, whether the film’s style comes from Ayoude’s interpretation of the material or whether he turns out to be a one-trick-Wes-Anderson-pony remains to be seen. I’d like to know what’s up next for the director.
As for Submarine: it’s good! I can’t say that I feel any desire to read the source material, as some adaptations may inspire, but it is a lovely little film. In the DVD featurette, Ayoude says he has a soft spot for stories that take place at this time in a character’s life – these tales of self-discovery and growth. I can’t say that I share his affection, but I do enjoy a well-made movie. Somewhere between Pirate Radio (or The Boat That Rocked) and Billy Elliot lies Submarine. Dive in.
Everything Must Go
I’ve never been partial to Will Ferrell comedies. He was my least favorite part of Zoolander and Wedding Crashers (I maintain that Jack Black would have been much funnier), and I have never had any interest in seeing Elf or its sequel, Step-Brothers, or Blades of Glory. But I’ve heard good things about Stranger Than Fiction – so when I saw the trailer for Everything Must Go, I was intrigued. After all, I love Kevin Kline’s dramatic work, but A Fish Called Wanda simply isn’t my thing.
Nick Halsey is not really a good guy, but people like him. He’s drinks, he lies, he shirks responsibility, he’s looking out for himself, but he does have a heart, albeit a broken one. In one day Nick loses his job, his wife, and his dignity. Trying to get into his house, Nick finds the locks and codes have been changed. He presses the intercom: “Hi – are you in there? If you are, could this happen another day?” With his entire life, his shortcomings and failures displayed on his front lawn, Nick is given five days to regroup. After that, he can no longer claim to be hosting a yard sale and he’ll be arrested, and by the man who happens to be his AA sponsor. Instead, Nick recruits Kenny – the kid riding his bicycle in front of Nick’s house – to help with the yard sale. Nick ends up making a friend, and learning how to pick up and move on.
Farrell is actually superb in the movie. He’s authentic and pathetic and proud and sad and I think both he and his character Nick genuinely enjoy people. As Kenny, Christopher C.J. Wallace is a find. His deadpan interest in Nick’s situation is right on pitch, and he’s really able to share the screen with Farrell. Like most movies today Everything Must Go is half an hour overlong; It’s not surprising to learn that the script is based on a very short story by Raymond Carver. It has the palm trees and odd neighbors and melancholy tone of Henry Poole is Here, and it shares the film’s heart. What do you do when your life as you have known it is over?
There’s a lot more to Farrell than the big studios would have us believe. Maybe if we give Seth Rogen fifteen years, he’ll earn the life experience to share Farrell’s range. In any case, while one might be tempted to pass over Everything Must Go, one man’s trash is another man’s treasure. There’s some treasure to be found in this one.
Nick Halsey is not really a good guy, but people like him. He’s drinks, he lies, he shirks responsibility, he’s looking out for himself, but he does have a heart, albeit a broken one. In one day Nick loses his job, his wife, and his dignity. Trying to get into his house, Nick finds the locks and codes have been changed. He presses the intercom: “Hi – are you in there? If you are, could this happen another day?” With his entire life, his shortcomings and failures displayed on his front lawn, Nick is given five days to regroup. After that, he can no longer claim to be hosting a yard sale and he’ll be arrested, and by the man who happens to be his AA sponsor. Instead, Nick recruits Kenny – the kid riding his bicycle in front of Nick’s house – to help with the yard sale. Nick ends up making a friend, and learning how to pick up and move on.
Farrell is actually superb in the movie. He’s authentic and pathetic and proud and sad and I think both he and his character Nick genuinely enjoy people. As Kenny, Christopher C.J. Wallace is a find. His deadpan interest in Nick’s situation is right on pitch, and he’s really able to share the screen with Farrell. Like most movies today Everything Must Go is half an hour overlong; It’s not surprising to learn that the script is based on a very short story by Raymond Carver. It has the palm trees and odd neighbors and melancholy tone of Henry Poole is Here, and it shares the film’s heart. What do you do when your life as you have known it is over?
There’s a lot more to Farrell than the big studios would have us believe. Maybe if we give Seth Rogen fifteen years, he’ll earn the life experience to share Farrell’s range. In any case, while one might be tempted to pass over Everything Must Go, one man’s trash is another man’s treasure. There’s some treasure to be found in this one.
The Future
I can’t help but feel that The Future falls into a certain category of cinema that demands a great deal of respect, a genre to which I am constantly drawn, one that sets The Future along Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and The Science of Sleep: a clearly autobiographical story given surrealist treatment, but which manages to make more sense and feel more hand-crafted than Fellini’s 8½. Like all great art, work borne of deep personal connection may speak more softly than others, but is often worth the experience.
Like the Escher painting hanging on the wall in The Future, Miranda July’s second full-length film is entirely surreal and vaguely dizzying. Trying to decipher it sends you in circles and the ability to truly appreciate it is highly subjective. The Future, like the future, is many things. It is hopeful but realistic, it is authentic but staged, an ode to commitment-phobia and the ticking of biological clocks. Factor in loneliness and heartbreak, and the feeling of creative paralysis… or perhaps this last is merely my recognition of the film’s genesis in performance art – a polarizing if unique art form.
Jason (Hamish Linklater) and Sophie (Miranda July) plan to adopt a stray cat in a month, when his cast is removed. Their terror of the impending responsibility collides with their dreams of their future. Suddenly their lives are constricted by a thirty day deadline that inspires an identity crisis in both Jason and Sophie.
The Future has its moments, and I wonder if it wouldn’t have been more satisfying as a short film, or a series of short films. Even an episodic structure would have been preferable to the messy and unclear narrative July has chosen. The surreal aspects of the film are the most beautiful and evocative, and the inclusion of Pawpaw, the stray cat as personified by two paws (one in a cast, obviously) voiced by writer/director/star July, is one of the film’s highlights. The other is the dialog between Jason and the moon. Linklater is completely endearing and a little sad as Jason, the perfect physical counterpart to July’s Sophie.
But what are we supposed to take away from the film? One thing is for certain, and that is an uncertainty about The Future.
Like the Escher painting hanging on the wall in The Future, Miranda July’s second full-length film is entirely surreal and vaguely dizzying. Trying to decipher it sends you in circles and the ability to truly appreciate it is highly subjective. The Future, like the future, is many things. It is hopeful but realistic, it is authentic but staged, an ode to commitment-phobia and the ticking of biological clocks. Factor in loneliness and heartbreak, and the feeling of creative paralysis… or perhaps this last is merely my recognition of the film’s genesis in performance art – a polarizing if unique art form.
Jason (Hamish Linklater) and Sophie (Miranda July) plan to adopt a stray cat in a month, when his cast is removed. Their terror of the impending responsibility collides with their dreams of their future. Suddenly their lives are constricted by a thirty day deadline that inspires an identity crisis in both Jason and Sophie.
The Future has its moments, and I wonder if it wouldn’t have been more satisfying as a short film, or a series of short films. Even an episodic structure would have been preferable to the messy and unclear narrative July has chosen. The surreal aspects of the film are the most beautiful and evocative, and the inclusion of Pawpaw, the stray cat as personified by two paws (one in a cast, obviously) voiced by writer/director/star July, is one of the film’s highlights. The other is the dialog between Jason and the moon. Linklater is completely endearing and a little sad as Jason, the perfect physical counterpart to July’s Sophie.
But what are we supposed to take away from the film? One thing is for certain, and that is an uncertainty about The Future.
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