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.

The big, the small, the frivolous

Sitting in my apartment, recovering from blackout Friday, gives me time to consider the spat of films I've enjoyed over the past two weeks. This trifecta runs the gamut from the largest, most lucrative blockbuster series in the history of cinema to a movie playing at one theatre in one city starring/written/directed by a 24 year old girl. And Christina Aguilera's Oscar contender for Best Actress. Range.

First up, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 1. All I can say is FINALLY. I felt this film was the reward for sitting through the first, painful, slow, and piss poor adaptations of the first six books (to be fair: I didn't hate the 3rd movie directed by Alfonso Cuaron). It felt like a movie, a fully-realized, thoughtful, visually-stunning story expressed through camera work, acting, narrative arc. I was captivated and enthralled. I found myself marveling at what nuanced performers the Hogwarts trio has become over the ten years of this franchise. I was obsessed with the animation sequence (the tale of the Hallows) and delighted by the art direction and execution of the Ministry of Magic vignette. It looked like a throwback to the film, Brazil, layered with enchantment. The audience at the midnight screening (yes, I still do that) was completely on board, even deep into the second hour. We were all watching the lid being closed on our childhood adventures and we didn't want it to end. Thankfully, we have a six month grace period. Until July. Part two. Can't wait.

Tiny Furniture was a movie I would probably dismiss as self-indulgent, pretentious, and a little too indie for its own good. However, given the press for writer/director/star Lena Dunham, it seemed too topical for me to avoid. I am glad I checked it out. It turned out to be an incredibly honest, sweet, funny, and fresh perspective on the post-grad life. Granted, peppered with privilege and perhaps permissive parenting. But there's no thought in my mind that the children of TriBeCa do engage in that manner. So however annoying it might be from a class standpoint, it is her reality. And the irony is, she's not slacking away her post-liberal arts years, she's writing, directing and starring in movies. No small feat, even with all materials in her favor. I have encouraged many of my contemporaries to see this little movie, but have been met with sneers. My young, creative pals are threatened by the idea of Lena as competitor and don't want to support her vanity project. Surely this population will not affect the overall reception, as I really look forward to her next more adult effort.

Burlesque. Well, that happened. This Xtina/Cher/Tucci spectacle was exactly what I anticipated. Shlock of the silliest variety. Sequins. Nine "Eleventh Hour" numbers. There is no reason to see this movie. Unless you are its target demographic, which is me. In which case, you are delighted and comforted by its predictability and glitzy escapism.

Drink it down with a soy latte from Teany on the Lower East Side, Moby's vegan contribution to the strip of Ludlow bars. The holidays are here.

Cleaning my plate for Oscar season

When you were little, your parents instructed, "Eat your vegetables or no dessert." The fall season is littered with annoying radishes and seemingly inedible cabbage, leading up to the sweet sweet Oscar contenders. If you are lucky, you get a savory brussel sprout. Some of the ruffage included:

Howl -- Sometimes I wonder if James Franco is actually a corporation. How on earth does he have time to make so many films, get multiple degrees (or at least take classes) from Ivy League graduate programs, create bizarre performance art and attend premieres? Well apparently because he is involved in projects like Howl, which maybe was filmed in two takes. Director: Jimmy, sit here, smoke a cigarette, wax poetic. Great, you are beautiful, we are done. Then someone added Jon Hamm and Mary-Louise Parker and called it a day. From the trailer, the courtroom scenes promised the Social Network meets Milk. But instead, it became this sort of draggy Pixar-inspired adaptation of the epic poem with a lot of cheesy monologuing. By the end, I didn't feel all that great about Ginsberg or his poem, and started to wonder if Jon Hamm only exists within the 60s. Seeing it at the Angelika gave it a certain cache, as everyone in the audience (read: geriatric left) seemed to be reminiscing about their free-spirited former lives. Doubtful that same experience would be matched on Netflix. Avoid.

Red -- A better Mary-Louise Parker performance can be found in Red, or Retired: Extremely Dangerous, a silly action picture about a group of olds who were former assassins and agents, and even in their AARP age can't put their killer instincts to bed. Malkovich, Willis, Freeman, Mirren...you certainly can bring together a more random hodge podge. I sort of enjoyed it. I got the impression everyone was having a good time making the movie and that shows. I felt for these people, this dying breed of not only secret ops, but of old school movie actors. What roles do we force them into now? Can you imagine casting Willis as the grandfather? He's DIEHARD! And then you have Mirren who is about the best looking 60+ woman in America, who should essentially be an eternal Bond girl with better acting chops, but now will have to play Blake Lively's great-aunt. Interesting.

Megamind- Why did I see this? Because I'm a sucker for Ferrell, Fey, Hill, Pitt. When I saw the trailer promising futuristic hijinks with this hilarious cast, I was giddy. I need to restrain myself, because Dreamworks animation is not the same snarkiness/adult-themed sensibility of the Pixar flicks, and as a post-teen/tween, this film would not resonate with me. These are things I know. I was bored. I thought the jokes were lame and the characters undeveloped.

Waiting for Superman - This doc about the failing public education system seemed to be right up my alley -- I love a good freakonomics perspective about social issues. However, the anecdotes never got my goat. I found myself critiquing the filmmaking (sort of the laziness of the limited perspective, the selected interviews, the missing content, and the absolute condemnation of the teachers unions without substantive support) more than the national situation. I also fell asleep.

Revolucion - This was a NYFF selection. Several vignettes about Mexican independence directed by prominent contemporary Mexican directors. Some interesting pieces. Mostly for their camera work, more than their content. Always difficult to assemble something like this with any overarching themes. A nice thought. More for cultural studies academics than filmgoers more keen on plot and character development.

Have you been to Eataly? You need an espresso stat. And their buffalo mozzarella caprese salad with a side of carbs.

Really good blog discussing New York Film Festival 2010

http://www.reverseshot.com/27/nyff_2010

New York Film Festival debrief

Hi Fall, How goes it? Wired from too many free espressos at the Illy stand at Lincoln Center, I am hastily reporting on the battery of films I've seen over the past week. Starting with...

THE SOCIAL NETWORK -- GAH! I saw this TWICE. Yes. Why? I'll give you my top five on why this film managed to live up to the extreme hype (outrage by Zuckerberg, critical praise across the board):

1- Cast - Each actor is perfectly suited to his/her role, is directed appropriately, and develops a compelling character who could lead his/her own film (most notably Jesse Eisenberg who makes Mark Zuckerberg a completely recognizable socially inept nerd who emerges as a tragic anti-hero/hero, and Justin Timberlake as Napster bad boy Sean Parker -- actually an Oscar performance...Arnie Hammer, Andrew Garfield...Rashida Jones...the Larry Summers look-alike...just great...and Erica Albright)

2- Script -- tight, expertly crafted, with complexity, truth (?), ethical dilemmas, timeliness, motifs and subthemes, motives, near perfect pacing...the ultimate issue is very meta -- the end of personal privacy leads to the filming of this tell-all expose

3- Music -- Trent Rezner of NIN creates a dense layer of sound which adds and elevates scenes, the tension, amplifies the speed of the proceedings

4- Direction -- characters are connecting/disconnecting in the best way possible, the editing, the computerized nature of the cinematography...it was perfect

5- My own bias -- the first frame of this film "Fall 2003" was my freshman year at college, revisiting that dorm, that life, those people, and those iterations of The Facebook mastheads made this film come alive to me in a really personal way. This is the first movie I've seen that legitimately tells my generational story verbatim. So many moments I recall, from the invention of the WALL, to the beginning of ads, etc.

Moving on to less than stellar flicks

The Tempest -- god, Julie Taymor. We are in a fight. This film shouldn't have been made. Really the Public should have wrangled Alfred Molina and Helen Mirren to perform this script next summer in the park and that would have been it. But JT being who she is these days (Spidey Broadway on the way) brought this into the world, based on her obsession with this story. There were aspects that reminded me of a trippy Eureka's Castle episode from the early 90s, and others that reminded me of the lamest parts of Across the Universe, an extended emo music video with lots of pastiche fabrics and worlds. Mostly I felt bad for Dijamon (why did he agree to be a part of this). Then I felt equally bad for Chris Cooper and David Straitharn. But then I felt bad for myself, because I had to sit through the entire thing and they were only in moments of this endless storm.

Aurora -- an absolute waste of 3 hours of my life. Painful. Romanian thriller my foot. The pacing was excruciating. Literally nothing happened for two hours and then the main character goes on a killing rampage, blaming the demise of his marriage. I really disliked him. Especially his interaction with his daughter. I wanted something terrible to happen to him. Instead, he surrenders himself to the inept police and that's where we are left. Really? Bleck. Also, the pretentious conversations I had with NYFF patrons after the film confirmed that no one got the director or author's intention here. We were bored and frustrated.

Freakonomics -- this is another film that probably shouldn't have gotten made. It's not a documentary. Yet, it sort of needs to be. But the media of film isn't offering any new insight into the issues tackled in the famed mass economics text. It's instead creating little School house rock segments that sometimes succeed, other times, bore to tears, and mostly don't cohere because of the varied voices/narration. I say it rarely, but you would be better off reading the book. More chance you won't have to be subjected to cheeky cartoons and subject stand-ins.

A Trifecta for the Soul

There are few things I love more than movies and coffee. Hence why I started this blog. To help navigate and direct readers to the best varieties of both. However, these experiences serve another function in my life: escapism. Sometimes when the world seems to be knocking me around, I take myself to Starbucks, to the Lincoln Square Loews, and all seems right again. I have found this to beat the blues in a number of cities and circumstances. From India to Massachusetts, where there's a screen and a bean, there's a remedy.

This weekend amid atoning, I rallied some compadres to see some really excellent flicks.

Easy A - A throwback to the John Hughes generation with a bit more contemporary cynicism and technology, just a delightful teen comedy that doesn't pander to the lowest common denominator, but instead dazzles with a lot of spunk and terrific supporting performances (Stanley Tucci, Patricia Clarkson, Lisa Kudrow). Emma Stone (a favorite from Zombieland) carries the film with grace and charm. She has what Lindsay Lohan promised and has since failed to deliver: the smart, the stunning, the resourceful, that suggests she will graduate to bigger things. Just fun.

Catfish - While I find escapism at the movies, others locate it on the internet. As revealed in this twisted, unsettling documentary about the relationship between a New York photographer and an admiring family in Michigan. I don't want to give anything away, but this statement: go see it. There are weirdos out there and a good defense is the best offense. I actually don't know what that means.

The Town -- When the trailer for this film premiered before Inception back in July, I flipped out. It was as if the casting director asked for my input. Ben Affleck!! Jon Hamm! Rebecca Hall! Chris Cooper! The SAME MOVIE! The brunette Departed! I die. Anyway, each poster and billboard filled me with more glee, though I was convinced (due to the September release date) that it was going to be a throwaway snoozefest. Opposite of true. Actually a compelling drama/thriller that at times feels like an Arthur Miller play. I found myself routing for Affleck's no good bank robber amid all of his wrongdoings (meanwhile thinking, Affleck has three movies under his belt where he works in construction: Armageddon, Good Will Hunting, and now this...must be his chiseled jaw line..drool). Like a Miller play, no character (well, maybe a few) was completely evil. Even Jeremy Renner and Blake Lively, a brother and sister on the wrong side of the law, give us something to think about. I admired the pacing of the film, a thoughtful blend of shoot-ups with story and thoughtful conversation. I only wish Jon Hamm had been given the smallest bit of backstory, beyond "cop out for blood." I was curious to know who he was outside of his professional proceedings, where he fit into the whole townie vs. tooney environment, and whether he would date me. No, fictional. I loved how much townie Affleck (in director not construction worker hat) explored Boston. It's odd that a film about a town full of criminals made me want to move there. It is just so lovely, with narrow streets, brownstone-style homes, and ocean views. I saw myself in Rebccca Hall's Banana Republic loafers padding around this community, weeding in the community garden, and eating pineapple pizza on sunny days in the middle of Cambridge. Will just watch out armed masked men. A solid sleeper hit for the fall season.

The Town