LA SCONOSCIUTA [THE UNKNOWN] *** ½

LA SCONOSCIUTA – THE UNKNOWN *** ½

By way of Hitchcock and some De Palma, celebrated Italian auteur Giuseppe Tornatore has created a deft little thriller that also acts as social commentary without ever compromising on suspense. In a film this craftily edited and superbly filmed, Tornatore sets a brooding dim tone early on and keeps a dark tension throughout the film.

Perhaps heavy handed at times, in Tornatore’s still clever mystery, Irena, as portrayed by Russian Xenia Rappoport, is a Ukrainian immigrant with an awful secret, desperately seeking domestic work in a new country. She is also forcibly trying to forget her traumatic past that nonetheless seems to catch up with her. In time she insinuates herself as the maid and nanny to a curiously wealthy family and soon bonds uncomfortably with the family’s little girl. Nothing is exactly as it seems and even the revelations in this yarn are surprises in themselves, even once you think you have them all figured out.

All part of Tornatore’s master plan, with a touch of early Polanski as well, the director, who also wrote the script, seems busy imitating the style of grand guignol cinema while broaching a delicate subject matter - some will say insensitively and crudely - that seemingly becomes the catalyst to the logic behind most of the action. In many ways, THE UNKNOWN cannot be the suspenseful film it is without the socio-political agenda that sets its story in place.

Fine dramatic turn from star Rappoport (who won the Italian Oscar for this role – one of five prizes it took last year, including Best Film, Director, and for Ennio Morricone’s original score), she eerily reminds one of a younger Judy Davis in her tragic yet aggressively appealing demeanour. Rappoport has a not only a striking face but an entire body to match that seem, together, to possess vulnerability and guarded survival instincts at once. Equally matched by a beautiful & powerful Claudia Gerini as the woman who at first entrusts the stranger and welcomes her into her family’s lives only to, later, regret it. And then there’s a startlingly awesome performance from young Clara Dossena who supplies equal weight in all of her verbal duels with Rappoport. Most incredible are the disturbing scenes in which Rappoport’s character educates the youngster in the art of self-preservation.

Tornatore may have comprised for his art, creating an imperfect film precisely because he selectively overcomplicated matters, in what seems to be much his grand scheme to keep the mystery going in lieu of the social commentary. Still like the more difficult 500-piece jigsaw puzzle, the film’s complexities do keep the audience startled, if not frustrated with anticipation, and guarantees that not once will its interest wane. In this respect, Tornatore, who has not made a film since 2000’s MALENA, confirms that no matter the genre he is still very much in top form and in control of making movies for audiences - at least his type of middling highbrow audiences – that will run to see his films, no matter the genre, so long as his name is up above the marquee.

SYNECDOCHE, NEW YORK - IL Y A LONGTEMPS QUE JE T'AIME - RELIGULOUS

SYNECDOCHE, NEW YORK
By Charlie Kaufman

syn⋅ec⋅do⋅che   [si-nek-duh-kee]
–noun Rhetoric.
a figure of speech in which a part is used for the whole or the whole for a part, the special for the general or the general for the special, as in ten sail for ten ships or a Croesus for a rich man.
Origin:
1350–1400; < ML < Gk synekdoch, equiv. to syn- syn- + ekdoch act of receiving from another, equiv. to ek- ec- + -dochē, n. deriv. of déchesthai to receive

Charlie Kaufman, the writer and the creator of ingenious concepts, defying logic but always making sense – in my eyes likened to the reading of Philip Dick stories but only on film – ideas so complex you’d need to see them several time to actually get the multitude of notional layers. Kaufman is the ideal conceptual storyteller of ideas that we seek in these troubling times, the closest to am uncompromising visionary cum therapist – a Sondheim of the cinema, so to speak. At times his words - spoken by his outlandish characters - are brilliant.

For us fans of BEING JOHN MALKOVICH, ADAPTATION and the sublime ETERNAL SUNSHINE OF THE SPOTLESS MIND, if you will, there’s a high sense of expectation from a Charlie Kaufman piece, especially as conceived visually by bright, avant-gardists [Michel Gondry, Spike Jonze] with an eye to visualize Kaufman’s world, rendering its absurdity in such a hypnotic fashion as to capture our own imagination. And that’s all good when theses ideas work on us and for us.

Unfortunately Kaufman made several missteps in his seemingly low budgeted yet contextually ambitious work, that could have benefited from the visual guidance of one of his trusted visionaries. Kaufman took control of his own dream project with such fervour that he must have gotten lost in his own ambition. Based on reputation, he enlisted a wonderful cast of actresses [Samantha Morton, Dianne Wiest, Catherine Keener, and the list goes on]. They all lend worthy support to a disturbingly perturbed Philip Seymour Hoffman as Caden, a theatre director whose wife leaves him just as he receives a grant to mount his most, yes, ambitious, undertaking ever, a theatrical piece reviewing his own life and resolving his conflict with the people that most mattered in his lifetime.

This is a film without boundaries, where the ugliness of life is vividly portrayed as somewhat beautiful. This is a film about the fears of failure, warts and all. It is also a film without a clear timeline, with a blurry clarity as to what is real and what is imagined and re-imagined. And where Kaufman could have taken advantage and used a smooth lenser to add some gloss to his philosophical film, he chose not to. There are so many missed potentials here from the recreated New York locations set in a massive hangar to the recreations of real life situations restaged by actors playing the people in Caden’s life. Most interestingly is Samantha Morton, his beloved assistant, as portrayed by Emily Watson. Less successful but nonetheless fascinating is Dianne Wiest as Caden recreated by himself.

Schematically, Kaufman’s jagged ideas are the least of his problems, although you’d wish his divestment of Caden’s superficial existence worked more effectively. Just try getting past the film’s title alone. In itself, SYNECDOCHE, NEW YORK is a play on words. In fact, Caden’s hometown is Schenectady County, New York. Almost sounds the same, almost a homophone. So if you didn’t catch that reading this review there’s a very good chance you won’t get it at all. I, for one, haven’t figured it out yet. And that’s okay by me since I am still not giving up on Kaufman. I did learn a few things from experiencing the movie. One, that Kaufman is a talented writer. And two, that he is not the grand master one wished he was. Yet he should never stop trying to make us watch, listen and think. In this case, Kaufman has not failed us. He only partly disappointed.


IL Y A LONGTEMPS QUE JE T’AIME [I’ve Loved You So Long]
By Philippe Claudel

Writer-Director Philippe Claudel, relative newcomer to the French film scene, conceived this painfully quiet study of love and regret, and in doing so has given beautiful Kristin Scott Thomas a performance of a lifetime and French star Elsa Zylbertstein a chance to broaden her audience around the world.

The movie is thankfully receiving great buzz as of late and is opening up slowly but surely in many cities. And it deserves to be seen. If anything, I’VE LOVED YOU SO LONG is the antithesis of the Hollywood movie yet uses one of the more recognizable international stars and a melodramatic premise and then works ardently to strip off the misconceptions. By doing so, it offers Scott Thomas an opportunity to emotionally dig in into some serious work and a complex, authentic character that is far removed from her mainstream work. It also affords us a opportunity and exposure into something a little more grounded and not so superficial.

Just watching Scott Thomas, all glamour stripped away, still looking radiant as ever but in quite a pained way, is wondrous. Scott Thomas portrays Juliette, recently released from prison fifteen years after she was sentenced for murder. Elsa Zylberstein is her long estranged sister, who’s kept a distance but cannot deny her blood a temporary place for comfort until she is readjusted. The strained relationship is at the heart of this movie but it never feels forced, neither fake.

Credit Claudel for good instincts and having the knack to find the dignified undertones of melodrama fodder. For those who love to study actresses playing off each other, it would be shameful to miss this opportunity. By the time the film hits the melodramatic pitch that it can’t possibly avoid, all’s forgiven. By now we’ve come frustratingly accustomed to the regretful distancing between the sisters and we crave a resolution. It is only natural in such a truthful film that we get one.




RELIGULOUS
By Larry Charles

It may have been directed by Larry Charles* but RELIGULOUS is truly a Bill Maher experience. A harsh critique, examining religious hypocrisy and condemning organized religion of every kind, RELIGULOUS is a take-no-prisoner, equal opportunity offender; a documentary made to illicit controversy, get many people angry and even incite a debate or two, if not a riot. It also happens to be one hell of a funny movie and Bill Maher knows it. Not sure what the real intentions were but Maher certainly has an agenda in his effort to offend every possible mainstream, and obscure, group that preaches the love of God and the hate towards sinners – that is, all non-believers who may be trysting around, committing blasphemy for simply being who they are.

Much more than Michael Moore, Maher knows how to use the in-your-face medium to its maximum capacity in order to anger his interviewees. By doing so, he captures our interest through combative dialogue, mocking captions and absurd film footage that complement his aims. Taking it one step further, Maher really wants to be centre of attention and by being so clearly shows his bias, disinterest in opposing opinions as well as his politically argumentative nature – by taking the offensive with nary a wince nor a blink – and certainly with much disdain for his subject matters. Without a doubt, he’s taking a political stance by overtly mocking all those he’s chosen to interview. It’s a slugfest and Bill Maher has the punching bag advantage.

Unlike many, I share similar political views with and an outlook on faith as Maher. So it is clear to me that I just may be his intended target audience but then why bother preaching to the converted. Had Maher taken another route whereby he tried to present both sides of the argument he may then have won himself a wider audience. As it stands, he now has the attentions of his fan base and thinkers alike – liberals at large – but as such has limited viewership in those able to appreciate what is most valuable in RELIGULOUS: its sense of humour.

I’m only saying that if you’re easily offended and religion is of a most personal and sensitive nature to you, you’ll do just fine by avoiding this provocative film. Otherwise, be my guest, go and enjoy the mockery.

*no slouch himself, Larry Charles has written episodes of SEINFELD, MAD ABOUT YOU and ENTOURAGE and co-produced CURB YOUR ENTHUSIASM, among other television series and episodes.

THE DUCHESS - WHAT JUST HAPPENED - ROCKNROLLA - LEMON TREE - PARIS - W. - HAPPY-GO-LUCKY - BURN AFTER READING - QUANTUM OF SOLACE

THE DUCHESS [2008]
by Saul Dibb

A fascinating piece of English history and a sharp parable, if not a tad too late, to the legacy left behind by Princess Diana. The story of Georgiana, Duchess of Devonshire, who was married off way too young and impressionable, is the exact kind of tale one would have expected from Jane Austen but one that is actually based on [some] facts that until now only historians revelled in. This is precisely the film made twenty years back when Merchant/Ivory ruled the period piece market. Except that THE DUCHESS is sourced from a somewhat new biography and is helmed by Saul Dibb, a relatively unknown [award winning for 2004’s BULLET BOY].

More importantly, this DUCHESS is lucky enough to have been made In the time of Keira Knightely, a woman of such delicate, exact features that she personalizes her timeless wardrobe and hairpieces so fittingly into her timeline yet still implies an impish modernity that is very necessary to embody the DUCHESS in question.

Ralph Feinnes plays against Knightely – looking more and more like F. Murray Abraham’s Salieri in AMADEUS [not a compliment but the desired outcome]. As the much older man that marries Georgiana, his Duke shows subtlety in his rage and some charisma to his menace in what is a mostly an antagonistic role. Charlotte Rampling, in a rare chance to show her face succumbed to age, adds substance as Georgiana’s mom, selling her out for security and prestige. Hayley Atwell as Bess Foster, the liberated woman who – out of defeat - comes between the twosome and forms a love/hate relationship with Georgiana and, more shockingly, becomes a partner in the marriage, does a commendable job of conveying varying aspects that has the audience loathing and admiring her at once. But the true surprise here is Dominic Cooper, completely miscast is MAMMA MIA, yet perfectly suitable for such a high octane costume drama. Cooper’s Charles Grey [later Prime Minister of England] is very appealing, kind and sensitive. He plays him with lots of empathy.

So what’s the downside to a film so proficiently made? Well, perhaps the film would have benefited from a little more tension. More drama. Perhaps not possible given the limitations of playing with history but it has been done before. Watching a lot happen on screen while nothing and no one really changes the course of the movie [except for the inevitably obvious], in fact, circumvents the strain that a story filled with such powder keg of intensity needs to have. By the end, in order to appease history, everyone on screen’s been dealt the blow and they’ve all come to except their compromises and somehow manage to get past it and live an almost-happiness ever after utopia. Perhaps it is how it actually happened but it is not ringing entirely true and I am certainly not convinced. Just look at how we still feed on Diana years after she’s passed away.

Notable mention: Rachel Portman’s superior score may be noted come Oscar season.


WHAT JUST HAPPENED
by Barry Levinson

WHAT JUST HAPPENED is a satire too serious for its own good, that it is no longer just cutting but a tad too close to the bone. It’s also a film that is borderline angry and has a lot of personal demons to vent. It understandably comes from a bitter source, prolific producer Art Linson, who adapted his own autobiography which, in turn, has been creatively put together courtesy of a once golden director Barry Levinson, who himself peaked in Hollywood with RAINMAN in 1988 and, arguably, made is best film, WAG THE DOG, a precious timely satire, in 1997. Some may even remember that his last great film, a little seen but solid comedy called BANDITS starred Bruce Willis, Cate Blanchett and Billy Bob Thornton. It was loose and funny and made little money.

That the two got together to put on this Hollywood dog and pony show should be of no surprise to those in the business. Many lessons learned later seem to have come in handy. Still, they are not the first nor will they be the last to paint such a sullen picture of Hollywood. Some films beforehand were even better, either more insightful or more precise [THE PLAYER comes to mind] Yet, WHAT JUST HAPPENED is a mockery, scathing enough if only for its use of star power as a weapon, in a bold attempt to discredit Hollywood’s elite.

Robert De Niro, in a somewhat controlled, most comfortable role in years, plays distressed producer Ben, juggling quite a handful, from a Sean Penn flick that needs a new studio approved ending to a Bruce Willis feature that demands its star to lose some weight and shave off a very large beard. Then there are two ex-wives, three kids, and an assortment of unreliable agents, a cold studio head and a temperamental director that Ben needs to appease. Day in and day out, that’s Ben’s task, his one mission, to survive in lala land.

Catherine Keener, as always powerful, has the misfortune of playing the harsh Studio Head, Lou, as a Sherry Lansing-type, notorious for her heartless uncompromising ways. Both Penn and especially Willis play themselves and eat it up for the camera, lovingly it seems, the former as an artist with way too much integrity while the latter as a difficult star prone to mood swings and an angry demeanour. Robin Wright Penn – older and looking better than ever, play the ex that Ben still pines for. John Turturro, as a spineless agent, and Stanley Tucci, as a deceptive writer, also figure in prominently in Ben’s day-to-day life.

Levinson’s results conclude not only a talent for working comfortably with his actors but also a mostly successful effort to include artistic elements into the film, visually and stylistically, in an attempt to convey Ben’s frenzied work days and crazy lifestyle stylistically. Again, this is not new for Levinson, who previously crafted THE NATURAL, AVALON and BUGSY; all beautifully shot films. Even then, for some reason, it seems as if Levinson was aiming for an independent feel, one that logically bucks the very studio system he is being critical of.

Perhaps it would have been more biting than bitter had Linson and Levinson kept some distance from their material - it seems hard to make a film about a subject that is too painful to handle - WHAT JUST HAPPENED could have been another WAG THE DOG in the bag. However, as it stands, it is not as probing as it would like to be – even as honest and raw as it is – but nonetheless it is intensely involving and, if just for the moment, lets us know that Hollywood is a bad place to be.

ROCKNROLLA
by Guy Ritchie

ROCKNROLLA is stellar! A fun & frenzied gangster flick filled with acerbic wit, stylized violence and, to Guy Ritchie fans out there, more familiar characters that populate this wild goose chase of a cons-versus-cons ride. While imperfect this latest Ritchie, true to his own reliable form, is yet another wildly fanciful mob flick not quite at the level of SNATCH but much better controlled than REVOLVER and thoroughly entertaining. In yet another glam world concocted by Ritchie more small time crooks and highfalutin mobsters interact and double cross each other in an effort to control prime real estate and millions of dollars, all in the name of power.

In some very clever bit of casting, likeable Mark Strong is Archie, our storyteller, an estimable, self-effacing and loyal right-hand man to Tom Wilkinson’s powerful crime lord Lenny Cole, a notoriously angry, greedy grandstander [once again proving that his Oscar nominations are rightfully adding up]. Following a deal gone completely and easily wrong, in which questionable loyalists become untrustworthy, a series of mishaps and a suspicious death later turns the quest for both deal and money into a bloody tale of vendetta that includes a silky smooth vaporous accountant played to perfection by Thandie Newton, a trio of hired guns [including Gerard Butler and, in a unique sympathetic gay role, Tom Hardy], an off-kilter punk rocker menacingly yet sensitively portrayed as doomed junkie by Toby Kebbell, a greasy Russian mobster trying to stake in new territory [Karel Roden], and some American music promoters inadvertently caught up in the dangerous mess [Jeremy Piven included].

As expected, ROCKNROLLA is controlled and contrived – and, despite the sporadic violence, visually pleasing to the eye – yes, from start to finish. It is smoothly placed together like a jigsaw puzzle, the 500-piece kind, with a few struggling pieces here and there that are just a tad more difficult to place. But the factor that it may not all add up somewhat adds to the joy. You may also realize half way through that while the characters have no idea what is about to hit them, the audience gets led in on the formula, with a wink, as back seat drivers, pacing through the mayhem. And Ritchie, as usual, never forgets to include the hoodwinking humour. The real pleasure of watching Ritchie’s work by now – so readily predictable in form – is in experiencing, first-hand, his characters’ devilishly diverse comeuppance. And of that, we get plenty of rewards.

I figure that if you are already prepared to watch a Ritchie flick, and ROCKNROLLA is most certainly a worthwhile entry, then you can never come out of the theatre disappointed. Even, as weak as REVOLVER was, it still had its merits. Here, ROCKNROLLA has a lot to offer, not the least of which is guaranteed fun. Go escape now and watch other people get what they deserve.

LEMON TREE Etz Limon [2008]
by Eran Riklis

Many Israeli directors – artists as socialists – have used the country’s political strife as a backdrop in order to convey their own, often critical, opinions. They use the opportunity as social commentary, from a particular stance, generally condemning their own government’s extreme measures towards peace initiatives. As such these creative but explosive directors tend to enjoy their international acclaim abroad – as their films become ideal festival fodder echoing worldwide sentiments and, in doing so, manage to infuriate a good amount of the Israeli public, specifically the cinemagoer that may realize that matters are simply not simple. And yet, funny enough, director Eran Riklis has decided, with the aid of co-scripter Suha Arraf [both collaborated previously on the acclaimed THE SYRIAN BRIDE] –, to form exactly that, a seemingly simple story. And, surprisingly, what truly works in this rhetorical film’s favour is that –from its first images – it is quite compelling in empathy with its main character’s personal anguish, allowing for any tolerance in its bias.

The engaging premise takes off when Salma, a 47 year-old Palestinian widow living in her family home, awfully close to territorial border, finds new neighbours moving in just across the fence. Her pride, joy and preoccupation is her very own lemon grove that just happens to be situated next to the newly erected villa of recently appointed Israeli Defence Minister Israel Navon [translating to Wise Israel] and his dour chic, compassionate wife, Mira. Well problems soon arise when the Secret Service dictates that the grove, causing a security risk to the Defence Minister’s safety, needs to be uprooted. No deep metaphors here. On the contrary, it’s all clearly plain and obvious.

Well, Salma does not abide by the restriction that forces her out of her own grove, she chooses to challenge the bulldozing Israelis. She hires herself a young, ambitious lawyer – effectively played by Ali Suliman [PARADISE NOW & BODY OF LIES] - and ends up taking the matter all the way to the Israeli Supreme Court. In the only actual hint of allegory, much like a lemon peel, the film offers a bitter observation that presents hope while never truly delivering an actually satisfying conclusion. There’s lots of angry compromise as well as uncompromising pride from start to end in Riklis’ take on how politics impact the personal lives of everyone affected by such governmental decisions.

Hiam Abbass [THE VISITOR] expertly portrays Salma as a proud woman, still very attractive at 47, retaining her dignity and, yet conceding much of her own happiness as a single woman in the name of loyalty to her people and faith. She is ultimately lonely but completely understanding of her role in society. This film signifies as much of Selma’s personal struggles as it is presses the sensitively political hot buttons it does in order to provoke. While Riklis does not even attempt to present an even-handed viewpoint, it is obvious that no film of this kind can ever do so, as there will always be opinions. Instead Riklis elects to send his message succinctly, opting to show the absurdity of such a cause in a more poignant and intimate way. He is extremely sympathetic to Salma and – funny enough - even more so to Mira, who represents the Israeli audience he is aiming for - who has to witness the absurdities as they happen and be unable to do anything about them As the Defence Minister, Don Tavory gets the thankless, two-dimensional cut-out character that is far from sympathetic, mainly because his opinions are seen to be deluded by politics and, thus, he shows very little backbone. Riklis makes his own case that these two types of Israeli will always pay some price or another for doing what they do to the neighbouring Palestinian. And that’s exactly when and where the movie ends.

PARIS [2008]
by Cedric Klapisch

Getting this out of the way, it is nice to see a natural, less glamorous Juliette Binoche on the big screen. Mind you,[ don’t be mistaken, there’s still that twinkle in her eye, one that exudes a certain foreign chic-mystique. And she’s still as beautiful as ever, even entering her mid-forties. But that’s not the point at all, not in a Cedric Klapisch film. Renowned for his international hit AUBERGE ESPAGNOLE and its well-received follow-up PUPEES RUSSES, here Klapisch builds on his specialty of interwoven stories of the Altman variety and human dramedy of the Woody Allen kind.

But with PARIS, Klapisch even attempts to raise his own bar, but not necessarily with as much success, as he ambitiously tries his hand at a bigger scale variation of his previous hits. This time the mood’s a little more somber though and a lot less hyper. Using a large cast, led by some big French name stars, including a standout Fabrice Luchini as a lonely aging professor smitten by a student , as well as Francois Cluzet and Romain Duris, PARIS is an obvious love letter to the City of Lights and the many hopefuls living in its heart. Zigzagging from story to story and person to person, Klapisch aims to show how the old, traditional Paris is coming to grips with the advent of modernism – in its clashing effort to accept a new reality. It’s also the story of how men and women committed to habits try breaking them in hopes of progress and a move forward. It’s a story with lots of ideas, many about coming to terms with oneself. It’s also the cinematic tale of many characters looking across at their own wondrous city, mostly from balconies, windows and rooftops. It’s a film that tends to thematically show off many of its city’s visually stunning vantage points and one that seduces us in its ocular dance, if simply to remind us why PARIS is still named the most romantic city in the world.

What PARIS is not, I’m afraid, unlike AUBERGE, is a film destined to keep its audience truly immersed in the numerous lives at stake by either fate or luck. The filmmaker’s many ideas integrated into one can be appreciated by the viewer but the film itself hardly ever comes to life, at least not until a shocking twist resuscitates it and regains the film’s intended focus. Which is a real shame for a film this rich with potential. While its characters are always in conflict with each other or themselves., the audience rarely feels the tension. This can be because there are way too many half-baked stories to be told and some of his ideas get lost in the shuffle. Klapisch would have benefited had he truncated some of his less engaging storylines and focused primarily on central characters and specific plot developments. Perhaps this would have defeated his own idea of the PARIS concept, at least in method, but he would most certainly have made a stronger film. But for now we can appreciate the film as is and eagerly await his next film, hoping a little less ambition, or even effort, will result in an even better film, one perhaps akin to AUBERGE ESPAGNOLE. As it stands, Klapisch should be so honoured to have such established actors this good in his film and a Juliette Binoche deserving of praise.

W. [2008]
by Oliver Stone

An Oliver Stone film was once an event. Lately not so, [when was his real last big film? NATIRAL BORN KILLERS perhaps?] But for years I have tried to make my darndest effort to keep the faith – There’s always hope in me that the once controversial director will still have something truly worthwhile to say. I am sorry to report that in W. he doesn’t really have much to say, at least nothing that we don’t already know and, although not a total failure, here Stone’s working with a mostly dull script [by scribe Stanley Weiser] that sorely misses the mark.

Of course, being an Oliver Stone creation, W. has its merits starting with the creative casting of many worthy actors, especially a intrinsically spot-on Josh Brolin as the currently out-going President of the United States. Richard Dreyfuss as Dick Cheney, James Cromwell as daddy Bush, Elizabeth Banks as Laura and Jeffrey Wright as Colin Powell are most notable for delivering exciting performances in a film that mostly fails to generate much excitement. But with every effort to get the casting right on target there are bound to be some mishaps. Here most awkwardly are Ellen Burstyn in an all too manic variation of Barbara Bush [which I found hard to fathom] and, worst off, an uncanny Thandie Newton [so perfectly icy in ROCKNROLLA] as Condoleeza Rice channelled as pure parody via a Spitting Image puppet. She does not even speak for a good half of the film but just watching her in the background elicits unintentional laughter. Trust me, it’s not done on purpose, it’s just what it is. Yet, sadly, in stark contrast to her lapdog of a performance, the film itself never aims for parody which is why Newton’s performance is so jarring.

The film itself darkly veers back and forth from Bush’s college hazing years through his bout with alcohol, flirtations with Laura and, most importantly, his conflicts and clashes with his parents, especially his dad. This is the film’s focal point, perhaps even its weakness, trying to convey the influences and foundations that made George W. Bush the man he is today, in a grave time of war. By crisscrossing through timelines, the film tries to somewhat correlate Dubya’s decisions today as a result of how his family’s disapproval shaped his convictions. However, Stone’s effort is hardly convincing enough to make us buy into how one man’s own personal demons could have caused him to make such grave international errors. It’s by a long stretch of the imagination that Stone can make us believe that Bush Junior is more callous than we may already believe [at least those of us Democratic-minded that want to see the film in the first place]. The man currently running the country does a good job of that on his own.

I wanted to love W. and by some point was resigned to just liking it. But by the end I was simply happy that there was something worthwhile recommending. This would be Brolin’s surprisingly sympathetic turn as W. Brolin manages to make us believe that the drunk, angry young man in need of some TLC, who at times even comes off moronic or careless, really does deserve some more affection, even a hug, from his mom and dad. Not sure that this is what I wanted to learn from an Oliver Stone feature but it is certainly a credit to Brolin that I may dislike the image of the man a tiny bit less. As for Stone, continue churning them out. I am sure you still have it in you and I’ll even gladly accept another U TURN.

HAPPY-GO-LUCKY [2008]
by Mike Leigh

Don’t get me wrong, I am a Mike Leigh fan and thought SECRETS AND LIES was among the best films the year it came out. It also made me a huge admirer of Brenda Blethyn, and for that I have only Leigh to thank. And now, years later, in storms little Sally Hawkins, wide-eyed, naïf, accepting accolades at every turn for this wildly, critically acclaimed film that has hit the art-house market like a ton of bricks and has made a mainstream dent [and soon, a household name of Hawkins]. So it is natural that I’d pursue this little independent feature for my betterment. Well let me share this, I am most certainly among the minority that has found very little fun to be had in this mostly annoying and very awkward film. First off, from the start I couldn’t relate, not to the characters not to their world. This only became problematic when I realized that perhaps Leigh wanted us all to somehow connect.

Sally Hawkin may collect prizes come next Winter [an Oscar nomination – you know, the one that generally happens from left field – is imminent] so she’ll certainly be on the map for the next little while. And I am not going to blame Hawkins at all, she’s done a perfect job on me being unlikeable. It’s just that I did not buy into the whole world of perfectly happy Poppy no-matter-what and how everything around her comes apart at the seams while she still manages to see every cup half full, even though my instincts tell me that it’s simply because she’s an annoying freak.

And perhaps that is even Leigh’s whole point, that she is unique [he certainly wouldn’t call her a freak] – a one of a kind – and Leigh is saying that it is okay to be such a standout and, perhaps even a cutout, and never have to compromise. Yet at the end, I’m not even sure that I was sold on the lesson of tolerance, mainly because the film had other, really irritating personalities, ones that Poppy was either giving advice to or seeking words of wisdom from. You see, Poppy is just the start of my dismay. I just wasn’t ready to listen to what they all had to say.

But let me just say this, Hawkins, I give Hawkins full credit for making me dislike Poppy so much. Freak, I tell you, Poppy’s a real freak of nature, always smiling as if drug induced. I just couldn’t get past that whole point. I was never sure what made her this way. Sitting in the cinema agitated was perhaps not Leigh’s intentions for me. Even S&L characters who clashed [and had a lot of unredeemable qualities] somewhat managed to reconcile and grate slightly less on my conscientious nerves. I really wanted to love Poppy and her unique dress style, her silly giggle, her sunny demeanour and the entire shtick that came with all that but I felt as if I was actually forced to do so. It reminds me of an introduction to someone at a party, someone whom I have no intentions of conversing with, and it all becomes pretty awkward from the word get go. Leigh will need to forgive me as he’s surely made lots of other fans. Hawkins, perhaps we’ll meet again under a better circumstance


BURN AFTER READING
By Ethan Coen and Joel Coen

I was surprised at how much I actually enjoyed this latest Coen Brothers entry – against all odds, especially as it was coming off the heels of their Oscar winning NO COUNTRY FOR OLD MEN and, once unveiled at Cannes in May, generally got slammed by the critics. True, BURN AFTER READING received its lukewarm reception mostly because it turned out not quite the loud out funny film one would have hoped or even wished for. I’m afraid that for that kind of fun you’d need to go back, way back, to the collaborators film library [THE BIG LEBOWSKI, maybe].

BURN AFTER READING is not even brilliantly as conceived as were the Coens’ previous critical successes. Yet what BURN AFTER READING is, and you can be sure it is, is a sly piece of work – an almost outdated once-topical farce [and that’s just the start of its ingeniousness] that has a lot more in common with Alfred Hitchcock’s FAMILY PLOT [perhaps a genre route Hitchock, himself, would have ultimately taken] and a nod here and there to cold war espionage thrillers. Combined, the story makes a great ride into the macabre, providing a random chuckle here and there.

BURN AFTER READING also schools solid acting by a fierce-to-have-fun ensemble that includes George Clooney [sexy], Brad Pitt [sleazy sexier], Tilda Swinton [a fascinating watch] and John Malkovich [no matter what he plays, always slimy] and especially benefits from Frances McDormand’s oft hysterical portrayal of a slightly out of whack woman obsessed with her own physical imperfection and Richard Jenkins as her lovelorn manager, helplessly trying to vie for her affection, let alone attention. That most of these lunatics wind up seriously dead should be of no surprise as the plot unfolds.

And that the film is also shockingly and brutally immoral, and does not take itself seriously in being so, makes for most of the fun. Naturally that depends on how amorally non-judgemental you are willing to be. And as we’ve come to depend on them, the Coens still know how to throw the audience an oversized thinking bone as food for thought; even in a comedy with few redeeming characters and a far-fetched plot, they still want us challenged. Yes, it is precisely this mishmash of ideas and personalities all rolled into a big pile of ferocious wit that keeps the film’s energy level at hyper speed and somehow always with a nodding wink. Perhaps BURN is unable to be the perfect film it strives to be because the viewing public may easily mistaken its moronic characters and their ludicrous ways for the brothers’ inanely absurd attempt to make us laugh – and end up feeling slightly cheated. After all, from watching BURN AFTER READING, most of the laughter is contained deep inside us with a slight discomfort for what’s going on.


QUANTUM OF SOLACE
By Marc Forster
Don’t believe the dissension. This is not a bad Bond at all, not by far. And it is not a dumb one either. QUANTUM is a thinking man’s Bond, a film that is just as much about hard-hitting feelings as it is about action. But don’t be mistaking it for a chick flick of sorts. This time, Bond – as amply portrayed for a second time by the physically exciting Daniel Craig - goes slightly analytical, even philosophical, while struggling with his conflicted emotions. In fact, I read somewhere that QUANTUM OF SOLACE is akin to THE EMPIRE STRIKES BACK in that it works as a continuum to a storyline, emphasizing the motivational transference of its main character. That would be just about right in many ways.

Still, in this case, a bruised and blue James Bond, as played with equal dose of inertia and verve by Craig, is seeking revenge for the death of his beloved Vesper, last seen underwater in CASINO ROYALE. He’s so volatile and maybe even unpredictable that his behaviour begins to even cast some doubt on his loyally fierce leader M [the ever reliable Judi Dench]. Well, true enough EMPIRE was only the second of a back-then sci-fi trilogy while QUANTUM is yet the twenty-second of a series of spy-chic films with a wide fan base. And even the change of suave leads from Connery all the way to Craig cannot dissuade a faithful audience from flocking to see our man, O07, in action. In fact, Craig is proving to be quite the man, as he brings in more and more money to the franchise than ever.

Yet this is truly the first time that Judi Dench has been best utilised in this series, even if this is her sixth turn as M. This time out, they gave her strong-willed character some unnerving moments of indecision. Bond’s actions begin to present quite a dilemma for her and Dench plays her part cool and collected yet still with a tinge of uncertainty. And Dench does so very effectively. I know it is way too ideal for me to set such high expectations, but this is the first time I’ve wished for Dench a supporting actress Oscar nomination as M ever since I felt that her over-praised turn in SHAKESPEARE IN LOVE did not deserve such notice.

As villain, hush puppy Mathieu Amalric [THE DIVING BELL AND THE BUTTERFLY] plays a spineless profiteer with oily menace. Much has been made about his Dominic Greene lacking a trademark scar of sorts, generally characterizing a Bond baddie. But trust me, he does not need any additional make up. He is still an effective heel. Olga Kurylenko, a Ukrainian beauty, plays the selfish, vengeance-ful Camille convincingly but does not fully register as a Bond girl. She’s missing the conviction.

If anything can be said of Marc Forster’s direction, is that the man responsible for FINDING NEVERLAND knows how to capture dramatic tension and imploding sensibilities but is far less successful with his action sequences. His are choppily edited and chaotically rendered. At times hard to follow, you kind of lose interest in the chase and, ultimately, can’t wait for Bond to start internalizing once again. So if you like your introspection stirred, not shaken, this Bond’s for you too.

BLACK BOOK - HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL 3: SENIOR YEAR - RACHEL GETTING MARRIED - NE LE DIS A PERSONNE - THE CHANGELING - VICKY CRISTINA BARCELONA -

Movies & DVD’s from October 25th 200 onward…

BLACK BOOK - Zwartboek - [2006]
By Paul Verhoeven

One would expect nothing less than good quality schlock from Dutch director Paul Verhoeven. After all, twenty five years ago he pretty much gave up his art-house reputation as an original visionary of pop-art [much like a contemporary painter] with several international hits behind him, when he sold his vivid visual flair to Hollywood and began churning out popular escapist fare such as TOTAL RECALL [great story treated as funhouse junk], BASIC INSTINCT [intense pop-art masquerading as brooding intellectualism] & SHOWGIRLS, among his most popular, [even when years later the latter is still seen as a pure and simple guilty soft-porn pleasure]. Funny enough, Verhoeven hit pay dirt with his biting satirical & allegorical sci-fis, the original ROBOCOP and its twisted bookend STARSHIP TROOPERS [however more twisted it can be]. These films were surely violent, graphic, colourful and oh very enjoyable.

So a lot can be said for the now older, reclusive director who has chosen to go back close to twenty-five years later and create a Dutch film on his home turf, more or less. But don’t mistaken BLACK BOOK for just any Dutch film because in many ways just as he never sold out his European flair in Hollywood, he hasn’t ever really left the Hollywood that he has succumbed to. Instead of the typical lala land war espionage flick one would run to see these days, we now get a subtitled, convoluted Dutch treat at two hours & thirty minutes; a variation which is just as exciting, violent, graphic and as blatantly shocking as you’d come to expect from a Paul Verhoeven film. In his world, everything’s explicit, always has been and always will. And at the same time, it is never ever boring.

In BLACK BOOK, a film that sets itself up in Israel ten years after the Second World War, attractive Carice van Houten [upcoming in Tom Cruise’s VALKYRIE] beautifully, even tenderly, plays a Jew in Holland during the harsh Nazi occupation. Ellis de Vries is a singer by profession, who long ago gave up her identity as the Jewish Rachel Stein, after witnessing her family murdered by the Nazis. Now she must try to survive by using her guiles to seduce men and lure them to help the underground resistance movement. That she has talent, charms and most of all sex appeal works for the large part in her favour but as she gets in way too deep she is no longer sure who is to be trusted and where the deceptions and betrayals lie.

The many men in our lives include Nazi general Muntze as played by Sebastien Koch [from THE LIVES OF OTHERS] who falls for her and even tries to save her, the duplicitous Dr. Akkermans [Thom Hoffman], who betrays Ellis’ trust, resistance leader Kuipers [Derek de Lint, star of Oscar winning THE ASSAULT twenty years back] and greasy General Franken [smarmily played to perfection by Waldermar Kobus].

To the end, knowingly or not, Ellis is very much on her own trying to survive. The flashback plot device works well until the film’s finale – once again in Israel. It seems as if Verhoeven always films his images according to storyboards & drawings. I can just imagine these concise drawings being vivid in colour and tone. I cannot imagine a single image not perfectly rendered as it was sharply drawn.

Nonsense or not, Verhoeven is a sharp and talented film stylist. He is the equivalent of hairdresser to the stars Vidal Sassoon, at least by reputation. He has grasp and control of his cinematic environment. If anything, he keeps a 156 minute film moving along at a brisk pace with its many twists and turns, and as much blood as plot. Yes, BLACK BOOK starts off glowing like a showcase peacock, as to how proudly it is based on true events but then once going it is not easy to be convinced how such a complex story [even complicated at times] with so many characters working for, with and against each other [some doing all of the above at the very same time] can even begin to sound or look “real.” Yet this is not important at all. What is important is that Verhoeven made yet another giddy contribution to his long list of oeuvres in his filmography.

Funny enough, watching van Houten as Ellis, I kept being reminded of one of the ultimate Verhoeven protégé, Renee Soutendijk, a star that years ago would have made this movie a massive film festival hit. Ms. Soutendijk later moved to Hollywood and became an actress of very little noteworthy efforts [EVE OF DESTRUCTION]. Hope Ms. van Houten manages her own career with a better selection of films.


HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL 3: SENIOR YEAR
By Kenny Ortega

There’s something to be said for a man my age, young at heart, lucky enough to accompany his nine-year old niece on a ritual cinema house visit, roughly every few months or so. I have had the good fortunes ever since I’d enlisted to this fun-type chore, when my niece was old enough to appreciate movies and specifically began responding to the movie musicals that have always been rooted in my heart. By design, perhaps, she suitably took over from me, her uncle. As such, she and I are perfect companions. She takes in whatever I have to offer, with much affection for both the movies and me, who has exposed her to this world.

The downside is that she seems to have long ago become synthesized to the sound and sights of musicals that even if she’s seen everything from GREASE to SOUND OF MUSIC to HAIRSPRAY, every single one of these films seems to register at precisely the same responsive note. It’s a) all the same and b) all good. Beyond that, it would be very hard to differentiate a Disney musical from, let’s say, CHICAGO.

Notorious for first choreographing the awfully two-steps-behind- faddish XANADU and then Coppola’s empiric downfall, ONE FROM THE HEART [he also had a handful in PRETTY IN PINK & FERRIS BUELLER’S DAY OFF], Kenny Ortega finally cemented his dance-step reputation with DIRTY DANCING, the incredibly popular throwback paean to the sixties, for which he was later rewarded his directorial debut with the ill-fated failure NEWSIES in which he tried to revive the Disney musicals when they were no longer revivable. A lot has happened since, including the helming of numerous television episodes from ALLY MCBEAL to GILMORE GIRLS. There’s even pre-production talks right now for a FOOTLOOSE remake, a movie that to many seems to have been made not to long ago but in fact first hit the silver screen 22 years back. Perhaps making FOOTLOOSE all shiny and new will further Ortega’s career.

As for now, Ortega must contend with the fact that the biggest successes (and surprises) under his excitable belt would be two recent direct to DVD- Disney hits called HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL and HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL 2, smash let’s-put-on-a-show sensations that have apparently tapped into the minds and hearts of kids everywhere at almost any age demographic. Now just in time for the fall season, Ortega has gone even one better with a large screen continuation to the plot-less plot, the infectious kids treat HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL 3: SENIOR YEAR, a confection filled with sticky lick-y hip pop tracks and love ballads echoed with emotionless sentiments by an attractive young cast. The current recycled radio sounds of Justin Timberlake and company, all original and mostly set on an oversized faux-stage and a larger than life tree-house, are warbled smoothly by talented mouskeeters, role-playing high school graduates but looking and sounding a lot like Florida back lot talents.

The team includes Zac Efron, as hero Troy Bolton, a conflicted basketball star cum stage hound, and his sweet-as-pie lovely girlfriend, Gabriella, played to saccharine perfection by Vanessa Hudgens. And while Ashley Tisdale reprises her infamous self-centred Sharpay Evans, the girl who wants to steal the show & limelight, she’s never really much more threatening on the big screen. And her mild shrew is understandable when you realize that the film is geared towards six-year old girls and the likes. Yes, kids familiar with HSM, will be happy to see that the rest of the gang’s here too and that the film also introduces a minor character here and there. But apparently all’s pretty much the same in this FAME retread. Somewhere between kitschy Broadway and a giddy musical revival, in fact not far off from films that didn’t quite work in the past, comes this good natured, formulaic and, at times, monotonous musical full of good intentions.

Think back how HOPELESSLY DEVOTED TO YOU and SANDY may have come off to a child at the theatre at the time and then remember what happened when YOU’RE THE ONE THAT WANT took over the film. Now, in perspective, think that HSM3 is smack caught somewhere between GREASED LIGHTENING and BEAUTY SCHOOL DROPOUT, filled with catchy fillers, and you’ll get a good idea. None of this is Ortega’s fault, mind you, he did what he had to do. By the end, my niece felt the same as always and then I confirmed her sentiments exact.








Rachel Getting Married
By Jonathan Demme
The wedding invitation just got another nasty RSVP. Over in suburban Connecticut, RACHEL GETTING MARRIED plies with disdain and much frustration, and under any normal circumstances would make a perfect companion piece, if not foil, to MARGOT AT THE WEDDING, the other sibling rivalry in-attendance film in recent months [and the much better film]. Alas, RACHEL is anything but normal, and RACHEL, even with a ceremony, never really gets to celebrate the nuptials in hopeful bliss. Perhaps Rachel, herself, is the single most centred character in place, while certainly not the film that bears her name in Jenny Lumet’s first, surprisingly unfocused, and even ugly script, where family members never get past the hurt or blame of a horrible misfortune that will most probably haunt them forever.

This achingly uncomfortable Jonathan Demme entry, not surprisingly hailed by many as his best since SILENCE OF THE LAMB, is not merely satisfied in openly setting his Buchman family dysfunction and dystopia with all of its uptight resentful members and all of their fleshy wounds. No, Demme wants to take it all in, document it for us and turn it into cinema verite. His intrusive hand held camera documents it all and lets all the pieces unravel in front of our very eyes. Even worse, on that special day, it would seem, he wants to lovingly intrude on these people’s unforgiving misery as if it were fun to do so. That it doesn’t really please his audience or even aim to do so seems questionably irrelevant to Demme. He’s more intent on catching the unsuspecting moment of such lives, and the lives of those around them, by being a fly on their wall, except that this wall is as grimy as it gets and it’ll take a long time to clean up - far longer than the film’s two hours will allow.

Shameful, since as much as he pretends he is as interested in the details of the wedding, with odd characters who’d fit right into an Altman world, Demme does take painstakingly long to cover such trivialities as chats around a table, a band’s eclectic performance and the long-winded ceremony itself, I presume to stake his indie film claim. Here and there Demme gets back to the content, I am assuming Ms. Lumet’s script, about the very troubled family reunion. That they only occupy a portion of the film perhaps is the bliss.

As it is phoney, the script, it works against the grainy realistic filmmaking style. Making real people out of actors is no easy feat and if it was not for the fact that RACHEL is mercifully held together by the fragile, damaged performance of Anne Hathaway as overtly pained Kim and the equally stunning Rosemarie DeWitt as her inertly angry sister Rachel, this film would not stand a chance of getting my RSVP.

Much has been made about Debra Winger’s return to the big screen [she’s done minor work in obscure titles but this is her breakthrough return opportunity] and I can see why she was attracted to the material. But in all honesty I don’t think that she pulls it off to the extent of her praise.

Watching this film, ORDINARY PEOPLE came to mind and just how much more extraordinary that film was without really trying.

Ne le dis à personne TELL NO ONE [2007]
by Guillaume Canet

There’s lots of fun to be had while watching TELL NO ONE. Mind you, not the kind of enthusiastic kick one may get from scoping an adventurous thrill ride of a mystery. But, more so, an hypnotic charge in which the viewer – a voyeur in this instance - cannot peel his eye off the screen lest a pivotal clue appears in this titillating French stumper, itself adapted the International bestseller by American crime novelist Harlan Coben. Fittingly in language and locale, the film seduces its audience in its mystery and Gallic charm.

Popular French actor Guilaumme Canet takes on the director’s chair [and a small but important role] tying all potential loose ends to create this taut suspenser and, in doing so, he manages to accomplish what a lot that other recent films of its genre – mainly Hollywood products – have not managed to successfully do in a very long while. That is, Canet mesmerizes his viewers, takes them deep into the heart of a story that, for all its preposterous results, still unfolds wonderfully. The final result is that TELL NO ONE works in mysterious ways. First, there’s an intriguing premise; then, a thrilling plot to follow and, finally, a coda that closes the book – so to speak - satisfyingly if excessively.

Prolific Francois Cluzet expertly plays the beaten, burdened and weary Alexandre Beck, a paediatrician still mourning the mysterious death of his wife, a woman he has known since childhood, even eight years later. As the case reopens, and once again Beck becomes the prime suspect, he makes every effort to uncover the truth and clear his name. It’s much like the Fugitive but deep-seated in a much grittier reality of Parisian culture and life. Cluzet is marvellous to watch [a French Dustin Hoffman, perhaps] and he truly leads the weaving of a story that is at once complex [a cynic may even say contrived] and thoroughly engaging. A dramatic tension is developed throughout as the film unfolds introducing a score of characters all somewhat instrumental to the mystery.

You’ll even find a likable Kristin Scott Thomas underplaying as Alexandre’s best friend who also happens to be the lover of his sister, as played by Marina Hands. Securing some prestigious weight are great performers of the French screen past all rewarded with meaty parts; from Jean Rochefort as a shady philanthropist, to Nathalie Baye as an overly protective & controlling defence lawyer and, most notably, the comfortable Andre Dussollier as the dead woman’s embittered dad. He is particularly very effective in a key role. Yet what makes the film even more dramatically engaging is Marie-Josee Croze’s sensitive portrayal of Margot Beck, Alex’s misfortunate wife. For her little time on screen, this French-Canadian beauty [MAELSTROM, THE BARBARIAN INVASION] pulls off a seductive spell on everyone around her, on-screen and off.

Yes, the film at times plays tricks with its audience by replaying scenes, introducing new ones, and shifting gears, all in the filmmaker’s efforts to place pieces of the puzzle together, simultaneously with the audience, one step at a time. Some of the liveliest moments come in form of revealing flashbacks to Alex and Margot’s childhood, placing them at the exact spot of the tragedy years later. In truth the revelation may have little to do with the mystery and everything to do with the characters. It is a clever devise that allows us to interpret upcoming actions, feel for the characters and appreciate the mystery as it unfolds.

TELL NO ONE works in many ways other films only wish they could. Perhaps even in ways it actually shouldn’t, but it does, precisely because it seems so effortless. The story, like a slippery eel, keeps twisting about and sliding all over until it reaches its dramatic coda. Alex’s salvation is to finally realize the truth that’s been held back from him all these years. The unfair beauty, and the film’s irony, is that the audience discovers it too at precisely the same time. IN TELL NO ONE there are no hidden agendas, perhaps, but in fact everything’s hidden until the very end. TELL NO ONE takes its title literally which may cost the film its cherry on an otherwise very tasty cake.

The Changeling [2008]
by Clint Eastwood

A reminder to anyone who’s ever forgotten – or even doubted - that superstar Angelina Jolie actually knows how to act, and very well indeed, THE CHANGELING is set to right what many believe was wronged when Jolie was not nominated last year for her portrayal of Mariane Pearl in A MIGHTY HEART.

As directed by Clint Eastwood and, especially, as written by J. Michael Straczynski, in what comes off as a very disciplined script, if a bit too polished, THE CHANGELING is nothing I thought it was ever going to be and yet something I was completely satisfied with. I heard great early buzz before Cannes and then mixed reviews in the aftermath. Yet, I did not take note of what the story was actually about. Mostly I heard the film being compared to CHINATOWN, LA CONFIDENTIAL and FRANCES, none with which I completely agree.

Essentially a drama ripped off from golden era headlines and one that could have easily been made for television by an equally proficient but surely less artistic director, here Clint Eastwood gets to recreate a time and place that is nostalgically so pure from afar, so prudent in its revisionist beauty, that right off the bat the single mother Angelina Jolie plays comes off as slightly ahead of her time – a modern woman – even if not by choice and very much by design. Playing against her is an unbelievably gruesome tale that anchors this true-to-life morbid account, mainly focusing on the corrupt or incompetent police force [at times, even both] bungling its case with all of its might. Ironically, certainly with intent, Eastwood seems to provokingly taint the wholesome nostalgic backdrop with such ghastliness and injustice. He takes a period piece that suggests romance and then coats a somber, murky tone beneath its surface.

The story of Christine Collins, a simple single mom, whose son disappeared one quiet day only to return several months later in the incarnation of another boy – one Christine surely knew was not hers– must have made the daily news, certainly front pages of papers – over eighty years ago – before the media was so sophisticated yet tacky enough to eat it up and sell it as sensationalism. That the LAPD was very determined to prove Christine was wrong in her disclaimer and therefore tried to have her committed makes this, at times, an irritating film to watch. It is in fact Jolie’s brief revisit to GIRL, INTERRUPTED territory that mostly sits uncomfortably. You watch in disbelief as her Christine goes up against a wall and then another. But you somehow know that, this being an Angelina Jolie vehicle, she will eventually need to triumph, no matter how bittersweet the outcome may be.

What follows is somewhat longwinded at two and a half hours, trying to establish a chronological time frame in Christine’s two years plight for justice, with so many diverging and merging stories that fill in the plot and a uniformly strong supporting cast [except for for uber-actor John Malkovich, who’s never been among my favourites]. Yet for some reason, perhaps in the name of interest [the film kept me hooked] THE CHANGELING is never tedious even when it is mostly reduced to a procedural courtroom drama. Even then, it is surprisingly deft and enlightening. Perhaps, there’s not much mystery to the story – there can’t really be, it is way too straightforward, but Eastwood’s choice of presentation does not really hurt the film one bit. And maybe somebody will get it right this time and nominate Jolie this year coming.

Vicky Cristina Barcelona [2008]
by Woody Allen

Calling on all Woody Allen fans who have long ago gave up any hope that the genius would return to form. And while he is not quite there yet, the Woodman has made great new strides with a film that is at once both familiar and welcoming to his devotees AND inspiringly all sexed up to lure a new, younger audience – the university crowd. His latest entry is not a timid one by any means, albeit reflecting some sort of soft porn concoction left behind from the seventies, which is refreshing in its ways and not as naïve as one would first think. Allen’s form of a liberating, fun wheeling, free spirited morality tale works on screen akin to Madonna’s successful retro releases of late. Except that here we get a head rush, a stimulus, that is truly cotton candy for the mind.

An overly comfortable, even monotone, narrator begins to unfold this tale of two libidinous best friends, played to sweet yet corrosive perfection by Scarlett Johansson and Rebecca Hall as they sojourn through Spain [and Allen’s done narration before – ANOTHER WOMAN springs to mind - so it’s not such a new concept for him]. The man’s confident voice and self-assured tone casually keeps us updated in an irony-free, obvious manner as his voiceover deadpans the audience. We experience precisely what is promised. There are no lies on screen, even when the characters deceive each other, we get to see through it all. We are in on all of the going-ons, the shenanigans and the hypocrisy that is such a trait of human nature and common in most Allen films.

As the gals traipse through Barcelona, not unlike in teasers from Emmannuelle era flicks, in creeps the charming lady killer in the form of Javier Bardem. He sooner than turns on his agenda-free yet slimy charm and becomes the sexy-ugly object of their affection. The story’s schematic drama is that while Johansson plays the naive libertine prepared to love and get hurt, Hall takes on the role of a disciplined, pragmatic sceptic, and this year’s Woody’s voice, and yet somehow both woman manage to connect to Bardem’s passionate mind. They are both seduced by his lure, which creates in large the central conflict in VCB.

This is precisely when Allen unleashes upon us, the earthy, passionista, recharged Penelope Cruz. Her arrival could not have been better timed. In yet another wonderful performance, following VOLVER– Cruz – like a sexy bull in a china shop - creates one deranged and out of control Maria Elena – overtly emotional ex of Javier’s Juan Antonio, and lover to all. She is so deliciously good [& natural] as a Spanish firefly that she takes over the screen at every opportunity [she should stop making films that stunt her talent and start rethinking along these lines of VOLVER & Allen]. Thankfully, Johansson holds her own in their more intimate scenes together. Lastly, even Patricia Clarkson has a biting bit as a bored gossip who hides her own unhappiness. True to its 70’s feel, VCB is like a Kraft recipe that shouldn’t but somehow does work. The movie is non-stop fun from start to end.

Leaving London behind and sidetracking through Spain, perhaps Allen was inspired by Pedro Almodovar, maybe even David Hamilton; hard to say but quite possibly easy to swallow. In VCB he delivers his best impression of his own glorious past. Thinking back at Woody’s extensive career as filmmaker and scenarist, it’s truly been a long while since he’s pulled off something this exciting to both listen to and watch intentively. And it’s also about time. We knew he had it in him – perhaps he rediscovered it through his latest muse in Johansson. She very well could have brought him to this place. Yet without a doubt, even not knowing it at first, but most definitely realizing it as he was filming, he’s found a new perfect fit in Penelope Cruz. VCB is precisely that kind of film where its three-letter anagram makes for a perfect logo on a matching hand bag. It’s something quite fetching.

MILK - SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE - WERE THE WORLD MINE - UN CONTE DE NOEL - ANTARCTICA - THE SECRETS - ROST/NIXON

MILK
By Gus Van Sant

MILK is triumphant in so many ways. It is difficult for me to review it without bias. It is a film of which every gay man, woman and their family should be proud; one that spiritedly exposes the struggles of gay liberation in a much more difficult time. It is an event that celebrates gay rights and our liberation. And a film that generously and graciously allows Sean Penn to shine as a gay man, a man who’s made a difference for many, with all of his virtues as well as his imperfections.

Gus Van Sant, once an independent filmmaker of the off-kilter variety, today more well known as the man behind GOOD WILL HUNTING, has managed to recreate a time and place that brought together men and women from all over the world, a heart filled hub, what seemed to be the love centre of the universe circa mid-seventies, called San Francisco, where the struggle for our rights was fought intellectually, politically and most pointedly. He combines archival footage, integrating them into the story to remind us that what we’re reliving is real life history and an important one at that.

If anything, MILK, by no means a perfect film but darn close to one, should be appreciated as a visual document of those who’ve paved our way so that we can now try to live happily ever after. Sadly, watching it also makes you realize that we still have a long way to go. After all, the fight against Proposition Six, disallowing California’s gay teachers to work, is one of the film’s central plotlines and currently one that is awfully close to Proposition Eight, the most hotly contested conservative attempt at oppressing gays and lesbians in our time.

Anyone sane enough to see how some, out of sheer ignorance and fear, try to keep us down will appreciate Van Sant’s vision and Penn’s absolutely striking performance as Harvey Milk and Milk’s efforts to do something meaningful in his life, to be the centre of attention and start a Utopian movement providing basic equal human rights to everyone. But remember MILK is more than just politically acute; it is also a proficiently and artistically well-made film.

As shown, Milk was as much an activist as he was an egoist. He very much loved the people that he scorned for not sharing his exact vision but mostly he was loyal, if not honest, to those around him. Van Sant did not simplify Milk the man in order to romanticize or accommodate him. If anything he gave MILK complex layers, which makes Milk even more human and relatable, not an easy feat in a film that aims to showcase one man’s greatest achievements.

A highlight of Van Sant’s re-imagining is the long-standing romance between Penn's Harvey and James Franco's Scott, the much younger man he picked up at a subway station and vowed to love. It is a love story easy to identify with in all of its highs and lows. Their unconditional love for one another until the end, even after years of separation, is the film’s true highlight

It is a testament to Van Sant that he is able to combine the professional struggles of Milk with the ones in his personal life and to do so in a balanced manner. James Franco is another great asset to the film, portraying Scott in a very natural, comfortable way. Scott is easy to connect with and, as Franco plays him, one can see how Milk would have held on to him throughout his lifetime. Emile Hirsch is another standout as Cleve Jones, street hustler turned advocate. And master-of-disguise as of late, James Brolin does quite a fine job in a disturbing role as menacing Dan White, Milk’s mayoral office colleague turned bitter enemy.

From viewing MILK, one can sense that our road to salvation is still a long one. But Van Sant, unabashed, would have us believe that, at least historically; through our collective efforts we’ve won at least one battle. Yes, Van Sant provides us all hope.

SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE
By Danny Boyle

As it stands, SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE is the ultimate amalgamation of artistic vision and the creative process. The visual medium has found its ideal story and director Danny Boyle has both the material and the medium to show off his niche as both artist and entertainer. And looking by the results, Boyle is more than entitled to show off, since much like a peacock, he does it so very well, one figurative feather at a time.

With such sharp source material, the book Q&A by Vikas Swarup, as envisioned by Danny Boyle, long with a cinematic eye, SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE is a simple but epic story that manages to grab our attention, break our heart and make us want to stand up and cheer. I was unbelievably impressed at how an idea based around WHO WANTS TO BE A MILLIONAIRE, set in Mumbai, can make for a fascinating watch.
A young boy’s journey through the slums of India and his relentless effort to survive anchors this incredibly moving film. At its start, we are watching the famed game show on television. Now perhaps twenty, the contestant, Jamal, is in the studio, in the hot seat, and as he responds to each question, one at a time, he looks back and we begin to see and understand how each of his answers has shaped and been impacted by Jamal’s short but triumphant existence.

Boyle’s efforts pay off. It is hard to find a more commanding and dramatic movie. With such a force, it is clear that Boyle really understands how to use film visually to maximize the power of each image and how to use editing to build on tension and emotions to the highest possible effect.

Boyle has also aced in casting his actors. His three leads are each portrayed by three formidable young actors. Despite the decision to have three unknowns playing characters at different stages of their young lives, he is able to garner much empathy and, when need be, anger for each of his characters throughout.

By the end, teary eyed and all, and I am not giving away more than I need to, it is a winning story of both love and pride, a foreign ride that seems far and exotic yet so easy to understand. Boyle’s technique is spot-on, through refined imagery and the simplicity of a story, he shows us one boy’s will power to live and, by doing so, how lucky we are to be living.

WERE THE WORLD MINE
By Tom Gustafson

The rugby team in WERE THE WORLD MINE gets shaken and stirred when Timothy, their anxious gay classmate begins spraying pansy potion in their eyes and, after a good scrub, they re-awaken only to fall in love, or is it in lust, with one another. This is HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL for the gay set. But in this homosexual utopian fantasy the magic spell gets out of control and soon enough the entire town’s in sensational heat, men, women and children, looking not too different from the zombies who’ve walked aimlessly in those LIVING DEAD films, except that the small town denizens are all somewhat more attractive giving the googly eyes.

As imagined by director Tom Gustafson, this idealism can only exist as a temporary fix because in only ninety minutes, the film’s entire length, a few modern love songs will be sung, the boys will take off their shirts in unison and dance, they’ll also kiss and make out all while the unaffected townspeople will demand a resolution, which they will most certainly get.

The fantastical glimpse of what were to happen would the gay Timothy, likeably played by Tanner Cohen, find the attention he seeks from school jock Jonathan, a super sexy Nathaniel David Becker, is filled with romantic notions that keep imaginatively disrupting a glum reality. But nothing’s too serious in WERE THE WORLD MINE. When drama teacher Mrs. Tebbit, a good witch-like Wendy Robie, casts Timothy as Puck in a school’s all male production of A MIDSUMMER’S NIGHT DREAM we know that we are in for a treat and that very shortly Timothy/Puck will get his boy.

Watching WERE THE WORLD MINE, especially its few well crafted musical numbers, allows for a glimpse into today’s gay cinema sensibilities and offers the audience a giddy taste of all kinds of sugary goodies and treats that we too know, all too well, will only last us as long as the magic potion, or more precisely the film, ends. Now, that’s ninety minutes of pure, out of control romance.

UN CONTE DE NOEL – Roubaix!
By Arnaud Desplechin

French cinephiles in the sixties wrote extensively of Hollywood films and then dissected their American directors, those who’ve influenced them. The even termed them auteurs; which by design shaped film aesthetics, theory and criticism. Then not much later these same critics went onto become directors in their own rights, revolutionizing the international film industry with their own brand of filmmaking, itself labelled nouvelle-vague, or new wave, which, strangely enough, turned wildly different than what was being done in Hollywood and what they were writing about. French films for years have been renowned for being more abstract, elliptical, philosophical and such.

Since then, almost fifty years have passed, and yet we have still come to expect a very opposing style and artistic sensibility coming from French cinema. You can be certain that very few French films today will ever look or feel American. No matter how big budgeted, or what star value they hold, film from France, even the slicker ones, will hardly ever be of the glossy, franchised variety. As such, even A CHRISTMAS TALE, a high-end, all-star, comfortably budgeted Holiday-themed film comes across as equal to something of a matte finish.

First off, despite its endearing title and its fable-like opening sequence, the film celebrates, if even that, misery, resentment, frustration and animosity between and towards members of the Vuillard family. As introduced, that opening scene, in fact, sets up the dreadful tone with what has historically preceded the family reunion that is about to take place and combust in one fiery week of regrets, misery and confrontation. Yet the film never borders on melodramatic cliché, even when it has so much potential to do so.

The Vuillard family is headed by a headstrong and unsentimental Junon, terrifically played with all gusto by Catherine Deneuve, the above the marquee name actress who has aged gracefully even while filling out. Deneuve’s matriarch and festive hostess does posses a classy exterior but plenty of inert anxiety. And it serves the film well by showing that not all skeletons in our closets have to be big revelations. In fact the insidious anger from one family member to another is the result of years and years of jealousy, pettiness and blame, that at their heart, even family members forgot the specifics, the reason, the guilty and the victim. Things just are.

It is interesting that a film set around the Christmas holidays featuring such star power as Deneuve, Mathieu Amalric [QUANTUM OF SOLACE], Anne Consigny, Melvil Poupaud and Chiara Mastroianni [Deneuve & Marcello Matsroianni’s real life daughter], among others, can be this intentionally disturbing. But, I guess, this is director Arnaud Desplechin’s whole point, to turn such a cheery spirited time into something more disquieting, to be able to show discomfort under one roof.

I shall not reveal what is at the heart of the family dysfunction but will say this much, this point is explained early on in the film and is a large part of what makes the film work, which is probably why it is best not shared. Therefore, once it is understood, it is far easier to believe and accept such hatred between family members, who at the same time, most possibly, also love one another.

What else makes the film work is that Desplechin sets it up much like a fable but then slowly shreds away all possible fairytale elements, replacing morality with incriminations. Yes, everybody can somewhat be blamed and they do go on blaming each other, as seen through the ensuing insults and arguments. If your idea of a cheery Christmas involves dazzling snow, a burly Santa and a nicely decorated tree smack in the middle of the living room, right by the fireplace, A CHRISTMAS TALE may just be the film for you. But I am afraid that in return it may also end up setting you back a couple of therapy sessions, something the Vuillards clearly have been avoiding all along. Now this would never happen in a big Hollywood Holiday movie. That would imply the wrong kind of Holiday spirit.




ANTARCTICA
By Yair Hochner

Can I mistake a film for being good just because it titillates me? Perhaps. Because with ANTARCTICA, director Yair Hochner paints a world in which plenty of good looking men get plenty of good looking – albeit empty – action. No, it’s not a porno and not even a film about the porno industry but a truthful film, at how some men choose to live their lives as if it were porn: good looking AND empty.

But then I would be unfair to Hochner, by not paying close attention to the world he’s created, a world in which these good looking men of Tel Aviv, in their twenties and thirties, do their dating scene as one big revolving door, because it is both telling and far deeper than any porno would allow.

And so why should Tel Aviv be any different? Well, for one, Hochner’s Tel Aviv boasts Mediterranean model-types looking for love but settling for lust or, at its worst, compromising for companionship with very little benefits.

Hochner collects six men [and two women] for his insightful study of romance and, mostly, one-night stands, something all too familiar to many men around the world. He points his finger and faults his men but for some odd reason their behaviour still turns us on.

It’s a pretty world full of frustration. And personally, I got involved and was going in for the kill myself, having spotted four potential dates from among the picture-perfect cast. But this being a film I had to settle for my voyeuristic status.

And if that weren’t enough, Hochner opens the film with a quiet yet telling observational vignette, a series of one-night stands that jump-starts the film and its raison d’etre.

Yet he also makes some odd choices as a director. For one, he casts a leading Israeli drag queen to play the mom of two of the main characters, whether as an ode to John Waters and Divine or, perhaps, to the more recent movie musical version of HAIRSPRAY, Hochner’s sense of humour seems to betray his efforts of shedding serious light into a life of frivolity. But then again, maybe Hochner was going for drama-lite.

The other, more curious choice, is to introduce the character of an older, established female author who, herself, unveils some pithy observations about humanity looking for love in all the wrong places, But then Hochner has her go to a meet-and-greet session with aliens who are just about to land in the heart of Tel-Aviv [very CLOSE ENCOUNTERS of him]. If not bizarre, in context, it is nevertheless a weighty subject to introduce mid-way while men are busy unbuckling belts in their throes of passion.

And with all these men running around from one apartment to the next, I am not sure if by design but the characters, and actors, that manage to garner the most sympathy and are best served are also the ones that the film gives most attention to. The winning Tomer Ilan as Omer, a kind hearted librarian, a soul deserving of love and Guy Zu-Aretz as Ronen, a winsome freestyle journalist and bedroom lothario. There a few other screen friendly personalities with mucho charisma, including Lucy Dubinchik, as Shirely, Omer’s confused and troubled sister whose dream is to be set free to discover ANTARCTICA, what eventually forms the film’s significant title.

ANTARCTICA tries to manage plenty of plotlines and, as such, some of the story gets lost in the shuffle. Nonetheless, ANTARCTICA never bores as it constantly places, replaces and displaces its characters from one location to another. As in real life, if not for the good, then at least ANTARCTICA is still a lot of fun to watch despite the trials and tribulations of its urbanites in heat or perhaps precisely because of their mating calls.

THE SECRETS
By Avi Nesher

Like the Kabbalah, the subject at the heart of THE SECRETS, Avi Nesher’s latest is a film filled with mysticism, an air of mystery and ravishing beauty in its sympathetic telling of two radically different young women who, sharing a room in a religious seminary in Safed, birthplace of the ancient Jewish ritual of spirituality, make a life altering pact that forever bonds and changes them.

Last I saw an Avi Nesher film was 1985 when he released his controversially ambitious but adventurous Jews-in-Palestine liberation epic, RAGE AND GLORY, at the International Film Festival in Montreal. At the time, as a student journalist, I had the opportunity to interview the then celebrated Israeli director and I was in awe of his accomplishments at home, his love of film as well as knowledge and, most certainly, his popular local films back home [THE TROUPE, DIZINGOV 99]. Apparently a lot has happened to Nesher in the past twenty years. For one, he went onto become a prolific filmmaker stateside – of mostly shameful B-grade films. And it seems that he has finally returned to Israel, where his serious and proud efforts were previously made, in order to produce, direct and write his last two films.

His very latest is an impressive venture, another polished attempt filled with visual splendour even with Nesher’s limited epic budget constraints. And, truth be told, I am not surprised. THE SECRETS is still slick and stylish and boasts a star turn by French vedette Fanny Ardant as a sickly woman with a past, living across the study hall. Turns out that the girls, Naomi [a fabulous beauty by the name of Ania Bukstein] and Michelle [a fun, free spirited & lovable Michal Shtamler] are sent out to assist the lonely stranger tending to her groceries and medication.

In the process, Naomi, a devout Jew playing the role of a self-declared faith healer, gets a ahead of herself. As an all-knowing and challenging adventurer, she convinces Michelle, the rebellious no-good girl with a heart of gold, to assist their newfound friend and neighbour Anouk, who it turns out is dying, with a forbidden sin-cleansing ritual, bringing the two to mighty danger with the school, the sacred laws and even their own families.

THE SECRETS is a story conceived by Nesher with religious feminist playwright Hadar Glaron [who must know one thing or two about women and faith]. It manages to present an even-handed but critical view to what it considers are the faith’s limitations, prejudice and, even, hypocrisy, towards women as equals. And still it’s a film that has its heart and soul in the right place, never degrading even while critical, implying a ray of hope in the faith towards its sense of traditional family values and joys.

And while Ardant’s performance does unfortunately ring false [she’s overly glamourized and bigger than life for the role she portrays of a poor, unfortunate soul]. Though she unnaturally emotes her character’s inner-struggles and pain, she is, after all, truly the foreign piece of THE SECRETS’ puzzle, the alienated individual. So it almost makes some sense that she doesn’t belong. But the remainder of the film, especially its use of young Israeli actresses, seems to be made by those familiar with the controversial topic of Kabbalah, those acute with its territory and its ethereal significance. Nesher understands its provocative nature and happily applies it for his own benefit. We remain intrigued throughout.

FROST/NIXON
By Ron Howard

The beauty in Ron Howard’s FROST/NIXON, a filmed adaptation of Peter Morgan’s stirring word play is how Howard was essentially able to take the stage material and, together with the playwright, gloriously adapt it for the big screen, from the camera’s viewpoint, opening it up ever so slightly and making these verbose exchanges a fun and exciting game to watch, a tennis match for the brain.

FROST/NIXON is mostly captivating when it, strikingly, captures the worn-out defeated and deflated face of Richard Nixon at his nadir. It is a film filled with plenty of such visually telling, confessional studies of that notoriously famous face, its lines and creases. Exceptionally well played by Frank Langella, the Nixon on film, as opposed to the one Langella originated on the Broadway stage, is even more imposing and impacting, as the camera captures his every painful look of guilt, pride and regret, up close and personal, something the stage was unable to do.

Yet while his are the best moments of FROST/NIXON, they are hardly the only effective ones. The film itself, turns out, slowly unfolds to the rhythm of mystery [with an excellent noir-duet score by Hans Zimmer] towards its stirring conclusion and easily ends up as one of this year’s most exceptional Hollywood releases. And Howard, Morgan and company, who have, together, expanded on the play, should be very proud of their results, as every single technical and creative aspect of the film is a top-notch achievement.

The battle of wits between British television host-cum-interviewer David Frost and humiliated ex-president of the Unites States Richard Nixon is played out like a near-murder mystery, a political Sleuth or Deathtrap, a cat and mouse chase film whose subject is all too real. And although no murder ever takes place, it might as well, since re-enacting the thought process that brought a desperate-to-be-taken-seriously Frost to guide Nixon to the nearest thing to a Watergate confession has all the trappings of such a glorious crime story. Turning Frost into a little Columbo, outsmarting his real-life opponent, without losing credulity is a challenge but in FROST/NIXON it simply works.

In yet another fabulous interpretation by Michael Sheen [THE QUEEN], also reprising his role from the stage, he plays the role of Frost with such spitfire charisma and energy, in direct contrast to Langella’s Nixon, in his desperate need to prove once and for all that he too is a serious newscaster.

They say that the real interviews between the two men were never this interesting and the sparring never this creative but still you have to give it Morgan’s imagination that he constructs, both, a duelling yet respectful relationship between the hunter and his prey. Thus, the interview results are reconstructed with such an element of high drama. Not a surprise given Morgan’s previous successful screenplays for the similarly plotted THE QUEEN & THE LAST KING OF SCOTLAND.

Just about everything in FROST/NIXON is polished with a professional glee. Howard has really managed to use the play’s introverted ideas and turn them into an ocular mind game. To think that we can still get swayed by watching David Frost illicit a confession out of Tricky Dickey – a legendary tale so old that it may even seem irrelevant by now – but, by golly, we do care and we do anticipate the end result. Even if we know it, we still want to hear the shameful plea coming out of the mouth of the man America once named the most distrusted President in US history.

FROST/NIXON turns out to be one of those films where you can just tell that somebody knew what they were doing all along. I can just imagine Ron Howard watching the play, really stirred as he first experiences it; And then, perhaps a second viewing in the dark and perhaps yet another one [over and over again], just imagining how he would play it out on film. And then – shot for shot – Howard goes ahead and fulfils his commitment by reinventing FROST/NIXON, basically turning it into a digestible and entertaining film about an confident intellectual fleabag pitted against a frivolous insecure egoist, and then methodically mixing it all up. And with all due respect to both his subjects, the material was right there all along in real life.

THE COUNTERFEITERS & WHERE IN THE WORLD IS OSAMA BIN LADEN?

The Counterfeiters [2008]

Hard hitting tale based on real events, signifies how far Germany itself has come to accept a certain level of responsibility for WWII and especially the Holocaust. Daring to strip an ugly chapter from its very own history books, director Stefan Ruzowitzky has taken an awful story and highlighted both its humanity and inhumanity in a troubling time.

The COUNTERFEITERS sets up its unbelievable story & unlikely hero, Salomon Sorowitsch, gambling in Monte Carlo after the war but very quickly brings us back to 1936 Berlin, and then from 1941 through the end of the world into an “upgraded” concentration camp, where getting shot is an arbitrary decision dependent on whether or not you are deemed useful at that very moment.

Even before this we learn that Sorowitsch was a habitual criminal, a counterfeiter by trade, caught and later sentenced to imprisonment. However, the war changes everything and by 1941, he is merely a Jew with a trade quite useful to the Nazis. Due to his specialized “trade,” he is enlisted by the very same Superintendent Herzog that had once had him arrested and is taken to the Sachsenhausen camp, where the beds are simply better and a ping-pong table is a gift of gratitude.

Now a Nazi official at the camp, Herzog lures Sorowitsch to become the ringleader of a band of Jews, whose every bit of contribution to the Nazi war against the allies has become a matter of a survival. The outcome has historically, and up until now, made this the largest counterfeiting effort in history.

Morally at odds, Sorowitsch and his cohorts must decide whether any of their actions will contribute in saving Germany by bringing down the British & American economy. Ironically, he and the other men risk their lives in order to survive just another day.

Solid storytelling filled with morally ambiguous characters makes this a fascinating take on the ugly truth of war. It deservedly won the Foreign Language Film Oscar at this year’s race; a race that was fraught with controversy when other internationally acclaimed films were passed over for lesser recognized titles. This one still manages to stand head and shoulders above many of our recent years’ nominees.

WHERE IN THE WORLD IS OSAMA BIN LADEN? ***1/2

Morgan Spurlock has done it again! Smart-alecky but ultimately hopeful documentary look at the Arab world today is filled with wonderful and wonderfully funny moments looking at the many faces of Islam. For such a dire topic, Spurlock sure knows how to keep it somewhat light-hearted and, against all odds, funny. Amusing as it at times, this film would have ended up as a cynical take were it not for its genuine poignancy. The many people interviewed for the most part come across as peace-loving, wishful thinkers – with their own opinions - and Spurlock seems to truly care for them and their points of view.

In many ways, it’s a brave little American film with a left-centered aim provided to showcase what it is like to see the on-going conflict from the other side. The different perspectives offered, allow the audience to further examine how perhaps we too have been led by simple prejudice, lack of sufficient information and, perhaps, our share of ignorance. Not that we should foolishly think that there aren’t any extremists (on either sides, that is) but these radicals are downplayed and mocked throughout by not only the film-maker but also by many of those that he interviews. Don’t be mislead to thinking that you are watching a probing rhetorical study on Moslem extremism because too in-depth you’ll not get. Still, a film that makes you think that you don’t really know it all, now, that’s impressive in itself.

THE BUCKET LIST - SHELTER - THE OTHER BOLEYN GIRL - PERSEPOLIS - THE DARK KNIGHT - MAMMA MIA - DAS LEBEN DER ANDEREN -

Reviews on Mariner
A = Outstanding ****½ *****
B = Very Good ***½ ****
C = Satisfactory **½ ***
D = Marginal * *½ **
F = Failure ½ *

THE BUCKET LIST – 2007 – *** B-/C+
By Rob Reiner; With Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman

Morgan Freeman is a brilliant narrator whether his voice soothes us whilst (he would use whilst) orating documentaries or whenever introducing dramatic narratives as if, faceless, he owns the screen no matter the remaining star wattage of the film. His recognizable voice is both majestic yet cosy. He simply sounds intelligent.

It’s a treat then that he does open up THE BUCKET LIST with his commanding words, if not presence, some of the best combinations of words this film has to offer from scribe Justin Zackham. These and more significant, spiritual words of wisdom are strewn like fairy dust throughout the film and form the basis of this adult wish-fulfilment film about two elderly men living their last months by doing all they’ve ever wanted. Naturally, they also happen to have the big bucks, a private jet and support to do so.

While THE BUCKET LIST does not hold it together from start to finish it does benefit from not only the voice but also the performance of a humble Morgan Freeman who side by side with Nicholson more than holds his own.

If there’s any form of disappointment here - and that would really be a stretch - it is that considering he’s got Freeman to work with, it almost seems as if Nicholson called in his performance relying on his persona rather than building on a role; which is a real shame as he could have scaled the movie a long way upwards. He’s never bad, mind you, but he’s always just Jack (no pun intended even in the presence of WILL & GRACE’s Sean Hayes appearing here as Nicholson’s loyal assistant).

While THE BUCKET LIST at time deviates from the empathic tone it aims to deliver it does have enough cohesiveness as a whole to make the story not only appealing but also thoroughly moving and even meaningful.

Rob Reiner is a safe director and perhaps because, through reputation, he has been responsible for some very popular films in the last twenty years, he has no intention to step on anyone’s toes or pursue more than the superficial essentials the film allows. He knows that the secret and successful ingredient of LIST is in fact in the script and the narrative that holds everything together. From experience, he allows the story to dominate; its blueprint surely cemented from contemporary television sitcoms written by smart, sassy and pop-culturally informed men and women of our generation.


Finally, the movie does not skimp on what it considers sentimental and cutesy moments even by its own standards. It in fact reinforces its honey-dripped morale through various snippets showing the bonding men having their special moments travelling all around the world. If that is in fact the case then I think that all mankind should buy a copy of the popular 1001 PLACES TO SEE BEFORE YOU DIE or at least make their own personalized bucket list narrowing it down to an essential ten. Until then this movie – by generating tears from its audience – shall suffice.

SHELTER – 2007 – *** C+/B-
By Jonah Markowitz; With Trevor Wright, Brad Rowe and Tina Holmes

The Afterschool Special has gotten an upgrade in the last several years, with what once were hot topics becoming merely food for thought. SHELTER fits the bill of topical drama aimed at a market of gay youths, taking on the responsibility of educating, alienated, even troubled young men that homosexuality is not a sin. Taking its cue from the formidable docudramas that were once the norm of handling sensitive subject matters, SHELTER, produced by HERE! Films (an offshoot of the gay & lesbian cable network) offers a tender if not an altogether tame look at a boy coming to term with his sexuality.

While the film is never unsuccessful at sending its message or selling its mores, as a feature film it is really up to star Trevor Wright to connect with his audience in order to hook them onto this gentle tale, with which, I can surely attest, he succeeds in doing so by establishing an empathic, thoughtful yet complex Character named Zach.

Zach lives with his struggling, unreliable older sister Jeanne, mother to five-year old Cody who, fatherless, connects with the college bound Zach and brands him his wannabe dad. The two bond unconditionally if simply by the fact that Zach is always taking care of the little tyke. Zach’s also an artist who has somewhat given up hope of pursuing his passion mainly because of his loyalty to family and his fear of moving away to college.

Enter (or is it re-enter) Shaun, older brother of Zach’s best friend. The two have known each other throughout their lives but years have passed and Shaun had since moved away and became a published novelist. Now back for a short-term visit in his empty posh beachside home he is the primary lure for surfer Zach’s coming out. You see, the town’s deep dark secret (not much of a secret though) is that Shaun is openly gay and - depending who you talk to – he should be kept away from those way too vulnerable to be influenced.

Well conflict arises when the selfish Jeanne does not approve of her brother newfound friendship with Shaun. Zach himself is conflicted when Shaun sneaks a heartfelt kiss and the entire film unfolds as Zach comes to terms of his feelings and then shares his self-discovery with those around him.

The characters around Zach, basically two-dimensional, are either ignorant and reactionary (though only for a moment) or supportive and very accepting of Zach (each given a scene to pronounce their understanding). In this sense there is not enough dramatic conflict to really elevate the film to much more than a simple cautionary tale. At eighty-eight minutes there is no such room for elaboration.

Thus, the film merely skims over the sensitive topic, touching base with the various aspects of acceptance and its insight into homosexuality but it rarely truly challenges the topic. That it is sweet natured and well intentioned is noble yet not quite sufficient to rise above its poignancy. For a film filled with secrets, its main revelation is such that everybody already knows about Zach and, funny enough, Zach is the last to discover his own sexuality for himself. Similarly, and most likely, anyone catching this film will already be considerably attuned to the subject matter, as if the makers of SHELTER were the last to discover homosexuality and the many steps towards coming out.

THE OTHER BOLEYN GIRL – 2008 – ***½ B/B-
By Justin Chadwick; With Natalie Portman, Scarlett Johansson, Eric Bana & Kristin Scott Thomas

The tumultuous courtship between King Henry VIII and his second wife Anne Boleyn, Mother of Elizabeth I, is given the glossy Hollywood makeover. This melodramatic treatment follows five years in the heels of an earlier British take that came out to middling success. Based on a highly controversial novel that is considered by many to be an overly fictionalized account, Peter Morgan, hot scripter of the moment (THE QUEEN, THE LAST KING OF SCOTLAND, FROST/NIXON), takes a stab in recounting the fabled tale of Anne and her virtuous and loyal sister Mary at a crucial time in Henry Tudor’s life. As expected, Morgan’s rich dialogue, as expressed by the more-than-capable Portman, Johansson and Bana, is appealingly delicious. Naturally, as an enticing visual page-turner, it is difficult to tell fact from fiction but nonetheless the film is always exciting to follow.

King Henry’s first and most beloved wife, Catherine of Aragon, cannot conceive him a male heir. Ashamed, Henry turns his cheek on her after twenty years of marriage and begins a mad affair with lusty and naively ambitious Anne. At the same time, he is emotionally and affectionately smitten by her innocent and compassionate sister Mary. At the mercy of their spineless dad and ruthless uncle, the two become prey to Henry’s desires and get caught up in a scandal that historically, as we know it, led the King to eventually cede ties with the Catholic Church and create his own Church of England in order to grant himself a divorce from his first wife. To historians in the know, there’s also the gloomy awareness that Anne – his wife of one thousand days – would ultimately - and literally – be the first of his wives to lose her head.

From first glance of Anne & Mary as innocent girls running through the meadows and until the glaring denouement of Anne’s infamous beheading, the film has a hold on its viewers, more so as a bodice ripper with a historical backdrop than as an in-depth chronicle, which is what actually pits the tale’s legitimacy into question. Regardless, it all somehow works as pure sudsy entertainment, never mind that it takes liberty at educating some of us who haven’t a clue. But then again, it was five hundred years ago, after all, so does anybody really care.
Brilliantly Drawn

PERSEPOLIS – 2007 – ****½ A-/B+
By Marjane Satrapi & Vincent Paronnaud
With the voices of Chiara Mastroianni & Catherine Deneuve

Per-sep-o-lis noun [per-sep-uh-lis] An ancient capital of Persia; its imposing ruins are in S. Iran26.30 ml. (48km) NE of Shiraz.

Unlike most animated films, this insightful, decidedly adult, look at a girl growing up during the Iranian revolution of 1978, and its aftermath, offers a smart and sassy study at the personal struggles of a family affected by a domineering regime during difficult times. Meaning that it manages a sensitive subject matter with both equal parts pathos and humour

Using the voices of mother-and-daughter team, Catherine Deneuve and Chiara Mastroianni, to tell the autobiographical tale of young Marjane and how fundamentalism had such an impact on her very own life, not to mention her entire family, this French language film now arrives on DVD with an English soundtrack that not only retains the famous French duo dubbing their own voices but also adds the impressive vocal talents of Sean Penn (as papa), Gena Rowlands (grandmaman) and even Iggy Pop, not to mention serving up a wonderfully sharp & pithy English dubbing that loses none of its charm, meaning or significance.

Whether in its original French language or in its newly dubbed format, the film offers a riveting portrayal of Ms. Satrapi and her family’s travails during a turbulent time of change. This personal yet universal account may deceivingly seem less ambitious to some. As intelligent as it is in content, do not be fooled. PERSEPOLIS also contains innovative animation, true to its source material and can easily be remarked for its cinematic creativity as much as for its storyline.

Based on her autobiographical graphic first person account, Marjane’s life changes drastically just as she is about to enter her enduring puberty stages. And as we all know, her and any child’s view of the world often differs from an adult’s perception in that even hardships can come across as far more exciting and at oft times surreal than we actually get to experience.

Banned in Lebanon for broaching an incendiary topic, the film provides an outstanding script that serves up both as a history lesson and coming of age tale. Through creative animation it recounts life through Marjane’s imaginative eyes, in way that only animation can do it justice.

Marjane’s idealism and influences obviously taint her discontent with a new Iran. As an affected teen, she rebels against Islamic extremists and is forced to relocate to Austria while only in her teens. As she settles into a new country that advocates freedom of thought, she realizes the need to also adapt to a lifestyle that comes with its very own sets of radical prejudice. Marjane pays a hefty price in order to gain introspection about belonging.

The brilliantly conceived film has won many nominations worldwide but had to contend being the second most renowned animated film of 2007 thanks to another witty yet easier to digest film that took the world by storm. Yes, sad to say, to some, it is truly too bad about RATATOUILLE. In an ideal world their acclaim should be a shared one.

Manic-Depressive In Overdrive

THE DARK KNIGHT– 2008 – **** B+
By Christopher Nolan
With Christian Bale, Heath Ledger, Aaron Heckart, Gary Oldman, Maggie Gylenhall, Michael Caine, Morgan Freeman & Eric Roberts.

Batman’s been served inside out. Following a successful revival of the Cape Crusader’s fight for justice, with BATMAN BEGINS, mastermind Director Christopher Nolan [MEMENTO] returns to form with what is yet the darkest and bleakest of the Superhero movies. Based on the twisted graphic novels that resurrected the Batman series to begin with, THE DARK KNIGHT offers brooding introspection and a gloomy perception of Gotham City and its denizens. Ever more depressing now, the forecast this time out is a decidedly painful glee.

Christian Bale returns as the conflicted Bruce Wayne. In many ways, strong as his characterization is, Bale’s spot-on interpretation as both the millionaire and his criminal fighting alias gets overshadowed by the insane and beyond, supremely frightening performance of the late Heath Ledger as the knife carving Joker. Here Nolan and Ledger opt for a psychologically disturbing profile and one agitating performance of a man losing form of any rhyme or reason. To what has already been dubbed an iconic part played to agitating perfection, this Joker, in no uncertain terms, is amoral, lacking ia single virtue and, to the end, an insane sociopath with no redeeming values whatsoever.

Topped with an impressive, mostly returning, supporting cast ranging from Michael Caine as loyal manservant Alfred, Morgan Freeman as the Q-ish Lucius Fox, Maggie Gyllenhaal (upgrading Katie Holmes by providing a little more kick) as Rachel Dawes and Gary Oldman as police lieutenant James Gordon, the casting coup alone immediately places this entry into a prestige class of its own.

Nonetheless, shining alongside Ledger, is Aaron Eckhart who does a commendable job as District Attorney Harvey Dent aiding Batman in the fight for justice by placing criminals behind bars but later, in a shocking twist, becomes Batman’s arch nemesis Two-Face. Under normal circumstances, his take on the overtly troubled DA would be an instant classic.

However, as we all know, due to Ledger’s unexpected demise, nothing here is normal; neither the circumstances nor Ledger’s eerie performance. In fact, as good as anyone is in this sequel – and they all are terrific in every way – by fate and design, nobody and nothing gets close to the bone as Ledger’s chilling posthumous take on the infamous villain.

THE DARK KNIGHT is a stressful two hours and thirty minutes, spinning an intrinsic study of madness and defying the genre by highlighting characters that seem to lack morals, leaving no unscrupulous ways unturned. True to its bleak graphic novel but amplified tenfold in angst, THE DARK KNIGHT creeps up on its audiences in the form of a darkly intensifying yet oddly satisfying hybrid; a mutation that is meant only to partly entertain but mostly to mesmerize its audiences through its hypnotic viciousness. As a psychoanalytical study of good versus evil, whereby the virtues becomes rather questionable, and coming right behind its predecessor that reinvented the franchise and genre, KNIGHT carves and shades in what were initially but mere grey tones into the finest strokes of black.

Fun stuff? Not really. In fact the entire film is void of much entertainment (save for the masochistic type) and yet none of this makes it neither a less than brilliant take on the superhero movie nor a bad film. Truth be told, THE DARK KNIGHT is a very well made movie on the exact same disturbing level as David Lynch’s BLUE VELVET or even Tarantino’s PULP FICTION, except that its intended audience has paid the big bucks and bought the large buttered popcorn in hopes that its crime-fighter offers a slightly frothier justice and a bit more light-hearted fun. What they don’t expect yet most certainly do get is a savvy, controlled take on menace & madness. And for those who can stomach it, they’re in for one hell of a ride. Mind you, a joy ride it isn’t.

I’ve Been Cheated by Meryl Streep and Co.

MAMMA MIA – 2008 – ** ½ C-/C
By Phyllida Lloyd
With Meryl Streep, Amanda Seyfried, Pierce Brosnan, Colin Firth, Stellan Skarsgard, Dominic Cooper, Christine Baranski & Julie Walters.

Admittedly, I am a big ABBA fan and I have waited a long time for anything ABBA on the silver screen, at least since ABBA- THE MOVIE first came out in 1977 and made a household name of its director Lasse Halstrom. Therefore, I can honestly say that I was sorely disappointed by the poorly directed, cruelly choreographed and incoherently cast film version of the popular stage musical that culls selected songs from the ABBA catalogue to tell a threadbare story set to the gorgeous backdrop of a Greek island.

I have seen the stage production on a few occasions and know it to be a merely decent, mostly fun take on the musical genre. Never a critic’s show but always a sure-fire crowd pleaser, MAMMA MIA was a cardboard cut-out of a sing-along show that through its inventively minimal staging left a lot to the imagination – and perhaps, as such, succeeded in appeasing its worldwide audiences.

Perhaps I was anticipating way too much, but the opened-up, on location, filmed version recreated by the same exact team that staged the fun in London, New York and practically every other city in the world, seems to have been clueless when it came to understanding how to best utilize the film medium to their advantage. The dull proceedings end up ringing false and the outcome is rather blasé.

It is apparent that while director Lloyd has seen many a musicals in the past, she perhaps neglected to pay attention to and follow in the path of the better screen adaptations of musicals in the recent years. Her pulse of the visceral experience has her most probably focused on the wrong musical influences, the ones that never work. As MAMMA MIA unfolds, it starts to resemble some of the more mediocre moments in film musical history; a painful realization for someone who has been waiting this long.

Even then, with a wonderfully promising performance from Amanda Seyfried as Sophie, a beautiful young woman in the process of getting married, it should be shocking to imagine that this single most endearing role comes from a relatively unknown, while major stars of the silver screen- not simply mere mortals - and an Oscar legend in the lead, would fare far worse. Alas, that is very much the case with MAMMA MIA.

I, for one, did not expect Meryl Streep to embarrass herself into submission through her rollicking and humiliating dances & numbers. For one, at fifty-eight, she is way too old for this sort of thing. Her Donna Sheridan should be a woman in her early forties. Yet in order to accommodate the generous superstar – who has been dying to throw in a musical into a resume since she was evicted from EVITA in its initial pre-production stages – the producers and director have made unreasonable allowances that have her uncomfortably choreographed and, no numerous occasions, unreasonably so.

For one, Streep is overly emotive and her physical movements are awkward as much as her facial expressions are unappealing at times. While her singing is top notch karaoke for much of the short but long-in-the-tooth 98 minutes, it truly is not much more than that. Her bests number, SLIPPING THROUGH MY FINGERS, sang to and with Seyfried, as her daughter, displays a hint of what the rest of the musical numbers could have been had her take on Donna Sheridan be toned down a notch and had director Lloyd chose a classier route.

Even if I also liked Streep’s rendition of the WINNER TAKES IT ALL (and I somewhat did), it is yet another scene displaying what is inherently wrong with the film. In this case it lacks choreography and is overly compensated by forced physical expressions & gestures.

In many other cases, the film is simply choreographed poorly, almost at the level of the Justin & Kelly movie that once dominated the year-end bottom-of-the-barrel film lists. When not punishing Streep and company into forced hand and leg gestures of the manic variety, the film uses an ineffective cast of backup singers and dancers to suggest a Greek chorus, a conceit that is nowhere to be found on the stage and one that does not work in the film’s favour whatsoever.

While Christine Baranski does not look cosmetically much better than Streep, at least when she performs her DOES YOUR MOTHER KNOW number she shows us what the film could have been in the hands of a real super trouper of a stage actress. Shame, ‘cause I had high hopes and was truly let down. Still, as a biased ABBA fan I can only be discouraged enough to concede this film as mediocre and nothing less.

The Cold war From Within

DAS LEBEN DER ANDEREN THE LIVES OF OTHERS – 2006 – **** B+/A-
By Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck
With Ulrich Muhe, Sebastian Koch & Martina Gedeck.

Picture this: It is 1984 [shades of Orwell, perhaps], East Berlin, you are loyal to your state, to its strict socialist ideologies and to its governing secret police, the Stasi. In fact, you are one of 90,000 men employed by the Stasi, in a country with one goal in mind: to know everything about everyone. Your occupation: interrogation Captain in a department cruelly renowned for the destruction of the human spirit; its victims are artists, liberals and free thinkers.

Now imagine this to be all too real. What if in the process of an investigation you’ve become compelled with your subjects, involved in their private lives and begin to realize that the mission that’s been forced upon you is all but a sham? Too late, you‘ve been drawn in and the decisions you’ve made thus far may change your very own life forever.

Such is the case in this taut, suspenseful thriller that weaves human drama with a socio-political agenda. An overly long yet involving first feature from director Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck, numerous award-winner, THE LIVES OF OTHERS offers a glimpse into an ugly era in European history not too long ago.

Ulrich Muehe gives a reserved, sadly nuanced performance as Captain Gerd Wiesler, whose beliefs (and loneliness) are compromised when he is forced to tap into the lives of “neutral” playwright Georg Dreyman (as capably portrayed by Sebastian Koch) and his lover, popular stage actress Christa-Maria Sieland (a sullen Martina Gedeck). You see, Dreyman is unfortunately very close to writers whose opinions may differ from that of the socialist state. The Stasi may have every reason to watch his every move.

Enter Wiesler. Through his captivated eavesdropping, we are ourselves become voyeurs to the daily secret investigations subjected to Dreyman & Sieland. Slowly, as Wiesler gets emotionally involved in the lives of the celebrated strangers, he starts to re-examine his own ideology. Suspicions between state and the persecuted thinkers become skewered. Wiesler’s handling of his findings take on a delicate turn as he begins to risk is own sense of security.

Shady dealings between government officials and the Stasi become evident and the truth behind the investigation gets clearer as the fallout nears. Wiesler puts his job and life on the line to protect those he is meant to crucify. As such, this “fictionalized” account of the human condition in such difficult and compromised times merely implies oppressive life during the Cold War. As such the flm is simply the tip of a far more impacting iceberg.

Gripping from the start, to the point of being hypnotic, THE LIVES OF OTHERS is absorbing drama, at once, offering a study of the Stasi, mostly known for its wire-tapping and interrogation techniques, as well as a personal drama of the interconnected lives of strangers due to the subversive methods and ploys of the socialist regime during difficult times. The beautiful rendering of sad & unfortunate circumstances and their tragic outcome is told to compelling results.

Mostly set less than five years prior to the monumental fall of the Berlin Wall, the film’s de coda evolves years later with slight changes in the affected lives of these acquainted men. There’s a profound beauty to the storyline and a build up that leads to a moving climax. Yet the filmmaker just doesn’t settle right then and there. Unexpectedly the drama continues with some precious rendering of the aftermath.

People affected by the results are given a glimpse of understanding and hope and the film somewhat concedes to unify the differences of men who may have once been enemies of conviction but allies in thought and mostly in passion. THE LIVES OF OTHERS resonates with us in its efforts to tell a universal theme of individuals fighting a system for a cause they believe in.