For those who are not regular readers, I've decide to watch my way through the filmography of the great Stanley Kubrick in an effort to become better acquainted with his work. Seemed like the right thing to do for a self-professed movie geek that, for one reason or another, never got around to seeing most this acclaimed director's films.
You can read my first entry in this project, wherein in explain my rationale behind this whole endeavor, here.
A few days ago, I blogged about Fear and Desire, Kubrick's first film. Today, I will tackle his sophomore effort, Killer's Kiss.
Right out of the gate, the most noticeable thing about this film is the huge improvement it was upon Fear and Desire. Part of that was undoubtedly due to the increased budget, though, like the first film Killer's Kiss was independently financed by loans from Kubrick's family. But, it was clearly more than improved financing.
In Fear and Desire, Kubrick seemed to pay more attention on simply setting up the scenes, focusing more on the interaction of the actors than on the composition of any given shot. There were a few exceptions, of course, but the scenery itself and the specific locales never really came into play. In Killer's Kiss, however, it's easy to see the influence of Kubrick's background as a photographer (prior to beginning his career as a filmmaker, he had gained some prominence as a photographer for Look magazine).
Yeah...this is going to be a short post. I don't like spending a lot of time writing bad reviews.
On paper, The Judge appears to be something special. It has a great cast. It had a great trailer. In fact, when I saw the trailer the first time, I thought for sure this was surefire Oscar bait. The previews seemed to scream: "For your consideration!" But, now that I've seen the movie, the only thing I can compare it to is this parody trailer from a few years back:
I was trolling through the channel guide on my cable looking for something to watch when I noticed something peculiar. Three films by Stanley Kubrick -- The Shining, Full Metal Jacket, and Eyes Wide Shut -- were all going to be on within just a couple hours of each other. As I pondered which one I'd watch and which ones I'd DVR, I realized something: In all my live, I had only seen a few Kubrick movies all the way through.
Like most relatively movie literate people, I'd seen 2001: A Space Odyssey and Dr. Strangelove several times. And, of course, I'd seen Spartacus, though most don't consider that to be a "Kubrick" film. I was pretty sure that I once watched The Shining, though I couldn't remember much about it. But, as I scoured my memory, I couldn't think of any other Kubrick movies that I was at all familiar with.
Toxic marriages. Misogyny. Infidelity. Gender roles and stereotypes. The actual or perceived definitions of a "cool girl." These are just some the many concepts that director David Fincher and screenwriter Gillian Flynn attempt to explore in Gone Girl, one of the first major Oscar contenders to get a wide release this year.
Adapted from Flynn's bestselling page-turner and almost fully utilizing Fincher's talent for the Dark Arts, this is a wildly entertaining piece of film-making. The problem, I suppose, is that it's aiming to be something more and it falls just a little bit short.
Giving much of a plot synopsis would, unfortunately, spoil it all. So, on that front, I'll be brief.
The movie stars Ben Affleck and Rosamund Pike as Nick and Amy Dunne, an all-too-good-looking couple caught in an bad marriage of epic proportions, though that only becomes clear as the story unfolds. On the morning of their fifth anniversary, Amy disappears under mysterious and apparently violent circumstances. And, as you might expect, Nick finds himself at the center of the police investigation.
What follows is a compelling mystery that moves from being a simple case of a missing person to surprising game of cat-and-mouse, with a twist about halfway through that, if you didn't read the book, will likely knock your socks off.
The movie delves deep into all kinds of human depravity. People try -- often times successfully -- to destroy one another. Innocence is lost and the darkest of foibles are exposed. This is, of course, Fincher's specialty, having directed classic tales of moral decay like Fight Club, Se7en, and The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo. Nobody does this kind of movie better, which, for me anyway, begs the question: Why is David Fincher, one of the most sought after directors in the game, retracing his steps? He could have made this movie in his sleep. Aren't there greater challenges for him out there?
That's not to say that this is a bad movie or a waste of time. It's a fine film. And, it's a mainstream, studio-backed movie aimed at adults, a niche that is all to often neglected in today's marketplace. But, as a fan of Fincher, I would have preferred to see him sink his teeth into something more substantial.
The movie's flaws are the same as the book's. Both the film and its source material take aim at large cultural and societal questions, only to neglect them in the end in favor of a narrative that works to pull the audience in without ever really making them confront the big questions the author originally raised.
Too literal to be satire or a parable and too over-the-top to be legit social commentary, Gone Girl finds itself caught in between two competing objectives: tell a good story or make a point. Ultimately, it opts for the former, which is fine. But why waste our time raising questions that you're not prepared to really explore?
I suppose I'm nitpicking. This is, once again, a very fine film. The cast -- particularly the two leads -- is very good, with excellent supporting turns by Tyler Perry as Nick Dunne's skeezy lawyer and Carrie Coon as his all-too-supportive twin sister. The one exception: Neil Patrick Harris shows up in a pivotal role for which he's awkwardly under-qualified.
And, of course, Fincher's technical prowess is spot on. The score (by Fincher's go-to guys, Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross) is one of the best of the year and the cinematography (by another Fincher regular Jeff Cronenweth) is unique and artful. This is, on all fronts, a very well-made piece of work.
I really did enjoy this movie. But, I think it might also end up being the most overrated film of the year.
So...yeah...I did it again. I posted my top ten list for last year and then promptly took like eight months off from updating this blog. Pretty much the same thing I did last year. My only excuse is that...well...this is my blog. I'll get to it when I get to it. And, it just so happens that, lately, I've been wanting to get to it more than I have previously.
I realize that I've left you, dear reader, high and dry all year. All of these movies have been coming out and I have neglected to bestow upon the internet's humble masses my thoughts and impressions, leaving you all aimless, without hope or direction.
Good thing only about five people read this blog. Still, I feel sorry for you five. For my part, I can only offer my sincerest (not really) apologies and promise (not really) to make it up to you.
But, above all else, I want to urge not to dwell on the past. Let us move forward. As Gandhi once said, "I'm tired of apologizing for not updating my blog. Get over it."
I've once again returned triumphantly to the world of conveying my opinions via an outdated form of online communication. This is cause for celebration and should be shouted from the proverbial rooftops...or whatever.
But, before we get to the moving on, the celebration, and the thankful monies sent to my PayPal account, let's talk about the past for a few more minutes. Like I said, I've taken the better part of a year off. Aren't you the least bit curious as to what I thought about the movies that came out in that time? I know I am.
So far, this year has been pretty weak. I've seen exactly two movies that, had I been blogging, would have received four-star reviews. I'll list them here without going into any detail as they are both very likely to end up on my top ten list this year. I just wanted to make note of them because few people I know saw either one, even though, in real, non-blog life, I've been recommending them left and right.
Snowpiercer
Boyhood
There are a handful of movies that would have gotten three and half stars from me. But, you've all seen those already (example: Guardians of the Galaxy). No need to add further commentary on a year that, so far has mostly been defined by decent, but hardly transcendent big-budget fare.
So what's next for the blog, you ask? Lots of stuff.
First of all, I saw a movie that many consider to be an Oscar contender the other night. I'm going to review that right away. I also plan on digging into the filmography of some great filmmakers and writing some retrospectives on their work. And, I plan on finally making good on my promises to include more entries under the Random Movie Lists and My Secret Shames categories, all while trying to stay up to date on reviewing the latest movies out there.
In other words, I've set up a pretty ambitious agenda for this blog in the coming weeks and months. Any bets on whether I make good on it?
Nine movies nominated for Best Picture, and there's not room for Inside Llewyn Davis? Not even a screenplay nomination? I hate using the term "travesty" to describe missed Oscar nominations, but if the word ever applied, it does here.
Alright, now that I got that out of the way, let's talk about this wonderful movie.
I'm almost at a loss for what to write here. That's probably why it's taken me several days to finally sit down and put this post together. It's not that I don't understand the movie -- I'm at least 75 percent sure that I get it. And, it's not that I'm having trouble describing the story. The problem, I suppose, is that the film contains so many subtleties and nuances that I feel like any review I give of it is going to be vastly incomplete by comparison.
Oh well...what're you gonna do?
Put simply, Inside Llewyn Davis is about the art of giving up. Or, to put it another way, it's about giving up on art.
Llewyn Davis (played by Oscar Isaac), the titular (sort-of) hero of the piece, is a folk singer working in Greenwich Village in the early 1960s right before Bob Dylan arrived on the scene and put it on the map. The movie tells the story of one week in his Sisyphean effort to find fame and success in the music business. This one week is either the most important week of his career -- the one where he decides to let it all go -- or it's the same as every other week in the endless cycle that is his life. If you see the movie, you'll understand why it's not entirely clear which one it is.
Llewyn is a talented fellow, though he's no Bob Dylan. He's also a bit of a jerk. But, you have to feel for the guy -- his singing partner recently committed suicide (voiced in the music by Marcus Mumford). The sadness from this loss hangs over the whole movie and Davis's whole character. Still, that doesn't fully justify the way he treats people.
For example, he mooches off of fellow musicians, he's rude to even his most supportive friends, he heckles other performers, and he impregnates other people's girlfriends, including Jean (played by Cary Mulligan). In one pivotal early scene, he lets a cat escape from a friends apartment where he's crashing. Oddly, this is the only lapse in courtesy that seems to trouble Llewyn at all. Indeed, he spends half the movie either holding onto the cat or trying to chase it down.
Davis's story is essentially a folk tale, told by the Coen Brothers with their trademark whimsy-induced nihilism. It is equal parts real and surreal as he travels through New York to Chicago and back again, singing songs and encountering various fairies and monsters along the way. These creatures, of course, take human form, but that doesn't make them any less enchanting and/or horrifying.
There are the kind creatures -- some of the other musicians (played by people like Justin Timberlake and Adam Driver), the kind scholarly couple that end up being his biggest supporters, and Llewyn's sister and nephew. And, there are the terrible ones -- the music promoters, the club owners, the union bosses, and John Goodman playing a heroin-addicted jazz musician. Llewyn's biggest problem is that he's unable to hide his disdain for the nice people he encounters and he's not talented or charming enough to win over the others.
Because this is a Coen Brothers movie, you know from the beginning that things aren't likely to turn out well for Llewyn. The fun part is finding out how they're going to test and torture him along the way.
There are two scenes that stick out in this regard. The first is when he auditions for Bud Grossman (played by F. Murray Abraham), a famous club owners and talent promoter in Chicago. He plays a song titled "The Death of Queen Jane," and he plays it beautifully, singing his heart out, the last verse acapella. It's a beautiful moment...until Grossman reacts. The second comes when he plays another song for his convalescing father. Again, the music is wonderful and Llewyn's talent is on full display. But, his father's response is, to put it lightly, probably not what he's shooting for.
The music plays a huge part of this movie, not unlike an earlier Coen movie, O Brother Where Art Thou. Artists perform whole songs throughout the film, and the vast majority of them are performed live right on film. Not only is this my favorite movie of 2013, the soundtrack is my favorite album of the year. I want to curl up and live inside the music from this movie.
While the story of the film is generally cold and unfeeling, the music conveys far more warmness emotion than you're used to from a Coen-produced movie. Indeed, the music allows the movie to give the audience a fuller emotional experience. As a result, this is, quite possibly, the Coen's best, most complete work to date.
Much of that stems from the Isaac's performance as the title character. His performance is a master-class in acting, not only in how he plays through the character's different layers, but in how he soulfully performs the music (he does all his own singing and guitar playing). With a lesser actor, Llewyn could have just been a sarcastic jerk. With Isaac in the part, we get to understand all the sources of his melancholy and his inability to connect even with people who love and support him. His failure to get an Oscar nomination for this part is another "travesty."
All in all, this is just a staggering film. In terms for where it fits in the Coen Cannon, I'd say that it's a fair cross between O Brother Where Art Thou and A Serious Man, sort of a illegitimate offspring of those two vastly different pieces of work. Like O Brother, this is a surreal journey with characters that are a little too archetypal to be fully realistic. Plus there's the music. Like A Serious Man, this movie a ponderous look at a character being run through the existential ringer only to come out even worse on the other side. And, like that film, it benefits greatly from repeat viewings. In other words, go see this movie...and then see it again.
Like I said, Inside Llewyn Davis may very well be the best Coen movie yet. Whether that's true or not, it is, in my opinion, the best movie of 2013.
I know that I owe you all one more movie from my Top 10 list. Believe me, I'm getting to it. However, as you may have heard, there was a shocking bit of movie-related news this week and I wanted to take a few minutes to offer my humble and overall meaningless comments.
As you all certainly know, Philip Seymour Hoffman died this past weekend. For fans of movies and fans of great acting, this is a huge loss. Hoffman was one of the greats, easily one of the best actors of his generation, if not the best.
In each character he played, he instilled a fullness and a life that made them all feel wholly complete. This was particularly noteworthy because, as a character actor often working in supporting roles, many of his characters were only on screen for a few minutes at a time. But he wasn't just a supporting player. No, he was one of the few actors who could move between leading and supporting roles without skipping a beat, always making it look natural and easy.
He was fearless as an actor, and never seemed to be driven by ego as so many of his characters had physical, emotional, and character flaws. Yet, he never seemed to judge any of his characters. Indeed, each character he played -- from the most realistic to the most over-the-top -- he always made their intentions and motivations seem real and, more often than not, understandable and relatable.
I could go on and on here, but I don't want to. Instead, I'm just going to post some clips of some of Hoffman's more memorable performances. I'm not going to say that these are his best performances or that they're even my favorite. No, I'd have to rewatch too many of his movies to make that kind of declaration. These are just some that have come to my mind over the past few days
WARNING: Some of these clips will have some harsh language.
Capote
You have to start this list with Capote, Hoffman's best and most celebrated performance. He always found a way to disappear into his roles, but he never really pulled off anything like the transformation you see in this film. So many great moments from this movie...I'll just share one of them.
Almost Famous
This is the best scene in one of my all time favorite movies. Hoffman was only in a handful of scenes in this movie, but the mark he leaves on the story is unmistakable.
Magnolia
Another relatively small part in one of my all time favorite movies. When I say he gave each of his characters -- no matter how small -- life and fullness, this is what I'm talking about.
Punch Drunk Love
There will be three clips from Paul Thomas Anderson movies on this list -- Magnolia was the first, this is the second. PTA just seemed to bring out the best in Hoffman.
Along Came Polly
This is the very definition of a great performance in a bad movie. I chose Hoffman's meatiest scene from the movie. But, there many others that are just as hilarious.
Owning Mahowny
People don't remember this movie much, but it's fantastic. Some of Hoffman's most memorable performances were of characters that were at the end of their various ropes. When I think of those Hoffman characters, I think of this movie and Love Liza, another forgotten Hoffman-starring gem.
Charlie Wilson's War
This is not a great movie. But, Hoffman was, as always, incredible in it. I just love this scene.
Before the Devil Knows You're Dead
This movie is almost unbelievably dark, and so is Hoffman's performance in it. I debated whether it was appropriate to show this scene, given the circumstances surrounding his death. But, in the end, I couldn't leave it out.
Doubt
I know a lot of people who love this movie. I'm not one of them. But, you can't deny the power of Hoffman's performance in it.
The Master
And, we end with The Master, another Paul Thomas Anderson movie. Just an incredible performance and wonderfully crafted character. This movie just gets better with age, as does Hoffman's performance.
