True Grit and Tangled

These films should actually never be side-by-side. Or SHOULD THEY? Let's look at the FREAKISH SIMILARITIES:

Both are remakes of classic stories (True Grit is an old school Western, Tangled is based on the Rapunzel fairy tale), spun with contemporary sensibilities (Coen brothers their signature hilarious quick-paced dialogue, meanwhile Rapunzel looks like Blake Lively), featuring precocious adolescent girls with long hair, danger, hijinks, outlaws, restoring order to the family unit (Daughter avenging her father's untimely death, Daughter returning to be with her Father and Mother). At the end of each film, precocious adolescent girls have some limb or hair follicle severed in a surprising manner. Walk off into some wide-angled sunset. Or some other stark lighting choice.

Overall, I would say True Grit is the superior film. It's just sort of charming and straight-forward, in the efficient Western kind of way, where there is one central conflict and it's clear that once that has been solved, the film will conclude. However, that does limit the Coens a little, known for their sort of off-beat tangents where random characters appear to sort of sidetrack the protagonists (see: Fargo, No Country, O Brother). That being said, they do weasel in some of their quirky charm in the form of amusing banter, unusual for a Western (where characters usually speak in bruting one-word sentences a la Clint Eastwood). Much appreciated. My only complaint is the epilogue, which doesn't add, or really even coalesce with the rest of the film, either thematically or structurally. I could go on a little bit of a rant about this, but I'd rather end my movie monologuing on a positive, which is this is a fine film which will fare well during the upcoming season.

Namaste!

And on a coffee-related note, the only game in town, besides the well-trodden Starbucks, is a Christian-owned coffee shop where the wireless password is Jesus1. You could probably skip that. Get a Sbux Via in cinammon spice. Not too bad to (not) brew at home.

Somewhere and The Tourist

Oscar Season Movie Rundown Continued...though I strongly suspect that neither Somewhere and The Tourist are strong front-runners

Somewhere is the latest from one of my fave directors Sofia Coppola (Lost in Translation, Marie Antoinette), who seems to have developed a niche in loneliness and urban isolation. Not to mention beautiful colors, shots, and rockin scores. Also in resusitating the careers of aging hipsters (first Bill Murray, and now Stephen Dorf) as well as promoting those of aspiring up-and-comers (ScarJo, and now Elle Fanning -- just fantastic). There's a lot to like about this film visually and audibally (sp?). It's like one long love letter/music video to the movie star life of the inhabitants of Chateau Marmont. However, as far as the story, there is a lot of waiting, hoping through limited dialogue and loooonng shots (at times, while actually watching paint dry. Like actually, we watch latex paint dry for what feels like seven years). While I appreciate the need for variation (not all films are/should be as ADD as a Michael Bay epic, or feature as many jump cuts as some Guy Ritchie piece), at times this was trying to my patience. Further, I felt Coppola was lifting a lot of scenes from Lost in Translation (the movie star press junket sequence where the star, overwhelmed by the light bulbs, comes off like a moron, as well as unsollicited hotel room call girls), which is a more efficient film. Maybe the Academy will recognize Coppola for the good work she has done in the past and will likely continue to do. However, I don't think this is the finest feather in her cap. A solid iTunes rental and a good source of some great music.

The Tourist -- in spite of this film's bizarre Golden Globe noms, I doubt we'll hear more from it come late January. Two very attractive people. Like really. Maybe the most attractive people. In a spy flick. Which is sort of fine, entertaining, lots of pretty outfits, gadgets, Venice. I mean, it makes some sense. The plot. Well, until the end. But it's serviceable. Okay, you know what, I will recommend it. You can see this movie. That's fine. You aren't hurting anyone. Really, you are just proving Darwin's Survival of the Fittest theory. Pretty people.

King's Speech, Rabbit Hole, Somewhere, The Tourist, Tangled, and True Grit

It is very much Oscar season: the SAG noms, the Golden Globes, the trailers featuring Sundance, Cannes, NYFF tags, Javier Bardiem. The usual. And as such, I'm beginning my movie marathon. Thankfully I'm stranded with nothing else to do in Ohio, where I can pay reasonable midwestern ticket prices and enjoy all the comforts of a megaplex sans bedbugs.

First up, Rabbit Hole -- a stage to screen adaptation of the fantastic David Lindsay-Abaire play about the fall-out to a family following the death of their son. Nicole Kidman and Aaron Eckhart star as the grieving parents. I was not a hater like the critics on this one. I really enjoyed the honesty of some of the scenes, especially those at the group crisis counseling sessions (Sandra Oh from Grey's makes a nice turn as a wound-up mom) and with the teen responsible for the accident (Miles Teller -- one to watch). I also liked the cartoon animation motif as a linking force as well as a reminder of childhood. I thought the art direction, the whispy WASP-y Westchester lawns, white picket fences, well-ironed linens, looked lovely and appropriately restrictive. However, I had some difficulties with Kidman, in and out of her Aussie accent, and incongruent with lower-classed mother Diane Weist and knocked-up sister. The trio didn't have any chemistry, and their incompatibility was never closely examined. Though it's been a while since I read the play, I remembered more joy, more carthasis in its trajectory. This version of Rabbit Hole was more static, more languid in its sadness, which made two hours difficult. I couldn't tell when I was given permission to cry, though I certainly was given ammunition. I found myself waiting and watching, instead of fully immersing myself within the world.

King's Speech will certainly make the Academy's Top Ten. Engaging performances by all players, especially Geoffrey Rush, who I'm convinced can do no wrong, and a new perspective on a historical period. I always love that. When some strange factual nugget is brought to life, into popular culture by some intrepid filmmaker. I also thought the director got even throw-away segments and characters so right on. Even in the casting of Margaret and Elizabeth, future monarch. Granted they only had a few bits to show their personalities, but I thought they prophetized how their future selves would behave. I admit that there were some slow parts in which I may or may not have nodded off. So my review can't be as thorough as I might have hoped. I will blame midwestern carbicide rather than lazy filmmaking. A really good one. Highly recommended.

Young and Hungry: 127 Hours and Black Swan

There is a commonly held belief among Hollywood actors that a demanding role requires some sort of physical transformation. Perhaps he/she had to waste away to nothing (e.g. Adrian Brody in the Pianist, Tom Hanks in Castaway), disfigure themselves (Charlize Theron in Monster, Nicole Kidman in the Hours) or play wildly against type (Hillary Swank in Boys Don't Cry, Sean Penn in Milk). 127 Hours and Black Swan offer us the bodies of two of Hollywood's hottie Oscar hopefuls as they undergo the physical demands of dangerous or masochistic pursuits (127 -- cayoneering, BS -- ballet dancing). As James Franco and Natalie Portman's bodies are put through hell, they are utilized to reveal silently the deterioration of their character's minds.

Unfortunately, this wasn't enough of a character arch for me. Broken bodies or not, I wanted to see these characters go through a personal transformation as well. Instead of simply looking aghast at their respective frightening circumstances, I wanted to see a gradual change in perspective, new tactics, fighting resolve or desperate submission. To me, these movies already decided where they were going and the actors were along for the chaotic ride.

Sure, they both had some interesting filmic techniques. 127 Hours was directed by Danny Boyle of Slumdog and features some of his electric images and cuts, wild music by AR Rahman, saturated colors and gritty textures. Black Swan by Darren Aronsky shows ballet dancing from waste down on handheld cameras. Maybe this was an effort to hide Natalie Portman's chancey turnout, but regardless, it showed ballet in a new light, less big picture beauty and more tiny, yet brutal contortion. The filmmakers had an angle and a strategy. But when the conflict is all internal, it is hard to demonstrate through externalized images and dialogue without resorting to cliches. Cheesy flashbacks, bizarre dream sequences, hokey magical realism. These are the tools of lesser auteurs. Like their stars, Danny and Darren needed to throw their all into these movies and do some creative brainstorming. Instead we get films that are going to be passed off as award season fodder, when a more discerning eye will realize that we are being tricked by style without substance.

Don't be fooled. Get yourself a peppermint mocha.