Rango et al and Insomnia Cookies

While I'm proud to report I won my Oscar pool last month, I'm certainly not winning movie blog diligence.

A quick summary of some recent Seens, all of which have merits, and I recommend, if in the appropriate mood:

The Adjustment Bureau -- basic, linear love story thriller...a little light on thrills and not as complex as it hopes to be, but some good chemistry between Damon and Blunt which keeps us engaged. I also just generally am excited to see John Slattery in a suit.

Winter's Bone -- a vehicle for Jennifer Lawrence, a wronged daughter in an Ozark meth lab of a town, violence, tedium, the same blue-tinted lens of the Twilight, didn't do for me holistically. I felt like I was watching a mystery that was never solved, and wasn't all that interesting to begin with. Plus, I had this nagging feeling that the film was a little poverty tourism for some Ivy-educated suburban-born white gal. It does seem that was the case. However, Lawrence, who just landed the lead in the much-anticipated Hunger Games film adaptation, proves herself to be incredibly tough, vulnerable, and compelling.

Never Say Never in 3d - You might say, why would you pay money to see this Justin Vehicle promotional schlock? Well, I challenge the haters to see this movie and not be moved by the story of Bieber, the plucky prodigy of a single teenage mother in Canada, who propelled himself, through social media, sheer talent, and some bizarre haircut to be the reigning teen pop king. Bieber and director John Chu, of Step Up 2/3 seem like a perfect pair. Chu navigates Bieb's short, but impressive life, with a lot of finesse, and quick edits. He is a storyteller who completely understands the phenomenon of his subject. I was charmed and consider myself to be a belieber.

Oscar Shorts -- Live Action and Animated -- Like a shopping trip to H&M, the Oscar shorts can be very hit or miss. This year, I wasn't dazzled by the animated series. I guess the stand-out was Day and Night, which still didn't make a whole ton of sense with that weird radio broadcast section. And while the Madagascar entry was visually sophisticated, the story was haywire. I thought Let's Pollute could have been a bit more clever in its messaging, a little less 1950s PSA in its delivery (spoofs are funny, but you have to add something to make them original). The Lost Thing, which ended up with the big prize, did have a sense of intrigue and wonderment. So I hear that, though I wasn't as smitten as I've been in past years.

However, Live Action was full of fresh perspectives. While I took issue with some aspect of each of them, these were minor quibbles in what was otherwise an honest and dramatic lineup. My favorite was actually God of Love (though I was certain Na Wewe would get it), which was arguably a little self-indulgent, but kind of lovely in a Sabrina the Teenage Witch kind of way.

The Company Men - For starters, I'm a sucker for any Ben Affleck movie. This has been the case since the seventh grade. Good Will Hunting, Armageddon, Shakespeare in Love, Reindeer Games. The time I drove 5 hours to see Gigli at the only showtime at the only theatre in Ohio after it disappeared from the nation's cineplexes after only one week. Ben and I have been through a lot together. Anyway, thankfully the Company Men (like his earlier release this year, The Town) showcases Ben in a mature, thoughtful, conflicted actor-y light. The film focuses on the lives of white-collared execs forced out of their high-powered jobs at a shipping company. It shares a vibe with Up in the Air. I left satisfied, that I had seen some good characters work through their issues, and hopeful that everything within the frame, and possibly in the outside economy might be okay. Escapism.

Rango - Possibly the most bizarre film I've seen of late. Like most animated films, this one seemed geared to the kids, but, in fact, it was some sort of spoof on spaghetti westerns slash Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. I don't imagine the average 10 year old has the patience for a film so ponderous, and potentially rooted in issues of urban sprawl. I couldn't quite wrap my brain around what was happening, and why I was supposed to care, other than be amazed by the stellar animation. I found Rango himself to be flat (narcissistic actor? too close to home?) but I was curious about the world around him. The urban wasteland...what might be across the road...etc But I think why this film didn't soar for me was expectations as to what the conventions of animated films might invoke. I wanted to be delighted. I craved a journey, zany characters, jokes...basically the first ten minutes of Up! meets Toy Story. Instead, I lost the path and started charting the genre references. Difficult.

Just as I was utterly convinced I had become too critical and jaded to like any movie, I caught Scott Pilgrim vs. the World yesterday on On Demand. What a winner! It was genre-bending, cool, quick, cute. Everything you want on your home television. Highly recommended.

Along with...midnight cookie deliveries from Insomnia Cookies (now on the UWS). Yes, the two best words in the English language: warm cookies. And they are delivered! At all hours. Try the S'mores flavor. Incredible.

Blue Valentine, The Fighter, Green Hornet

Hard to link these three films, ranging from the subtle low-budget character drama to the latest comic book explosion-fest. But if you look hard enough, you'll see some intersections. Ambition and the epic journey to reach your potential.

In Blue Valentine, a crushing love/loss story about a couple who grows apart over the course of a five year marriage, ambition seems to be the breaking point for Michelle Williams' character. Without the gritty intensity, this could be the hipster sequel to Knocked Up. Bright and driven, but perhaps depressed and directionless girl, gets pregnant, without support. Decides to bunk up with nearby hapless romantic, who promises to be by her side through the whole ordeal. Unfortunately, after several sweet but unsatisfying years, the reality sets in, and her aspirations loom and threaten her marriage. Meanwhile, her partner seems to be content with status quo. This divide is the breaking point. Blue Valentine is so great at capturing the initial courtship/the honeymoon phase of falling in love, and the bitter dregs of things having fallen apart. It also doesn't flinch from showing the brutal, the skeezy, the uncomfortable. Interestingly, it seems to skew the audience toward sympathizing with him, the family man, trying to keep things together in spite of his personal limitations. But I felt differently, wishing things had turned out better for her, that she hadn't been left without options. I never fell in love with Ryan Gosling's character, I felt for him, that this wasn't to be and he couldn't come to terms with that. He had to be shown the door, and doesn't know what's behind it. This was the life they both fell into.

I liked so much about this film's intimate character study, and some truly lovely scenes -- the tap dancing in front of the store front, the interior design of the veteran's nursing home room. Both Ryan and Michelle are excellent. I only wish the script had offered Ryan a bit more nuance. But I think it knew what it was after, and was successful at meeting its own potential.

The Fighter is another small/big film, backed by great performances, and relationships. Again, about a family torn apart by failed dreams. A couple (Amy Adams and Mark Wahlberg) that triumph through sticking by each other during the battle uphill. I enjoyed it. Give Christian Bale an Oscar. Moving on...

The Green Hornet is a straightforward action picture. I almost can imagine the conversation that took place during its inception: some dorky guys sitting around (Seth Rogan and his buds) saying, "Wouldn't it be cool if...?!! And he had an Asian side-kick?! Who made killer cars with weapons?! And also cappuccinos?! And Cameron Diaz was in it! But we never know what her deal is? But she's hot! And there are men in suits with accents!" Well, that's what they got. And it's fine. Maybe a little tedious. Derivative. Forced. But, fine.

How could I hate a movie with such beautiful cappuccinos?!

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.

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.