Michael Clayton (USA 2007, Drama/Thriller), Writer/Director: Tony Gilroy

Rendition (USA/South Africa 2007, Drama/Thriller), Writer: Kelley Sane; Director: Gavin Hood

Michael Clayton is a bit of a case of style over substance. But the style is so good I didn’t mind that very little actually happens and that the pace lags a bit toward the middle.

The film begins with a series of static shots of the offices of Kenner, Bach & Ledeen, a top corporate law firm in New York. You realize how often the camera moves in other films these days when you observe the stillness of Michael Clayton’s opening sequence. It’s like watching a slideshow of the office at rest. It’s sharp, crisp and extremely effective. (The ending is equally powerful and stands as a fantastic contrast to the sterile office environment depicted in the film’s first few shots. But I can’t get in to specifics without revealing too much.)

The main plot follows Clayton (George Clooney) doing damage control after Arthur Edens (Tom Wilkinson), a brilliant attorney at KBL, goes off his medication for bipolar disorder and suffers a breakdown. Edens had been representing U-North, a prominent agrichemical company, in a multi-million dollar class action lawsuit. After stripping naked and ranting like a madman during a deposition, Edens proceeds to sabotage the case. This leads U-North’s chief counsel, the incredibly high-strung Karen Crowder (Tilda Swinton), to resort to desperate measures.

But things move slowly. We see Clayton go through the motions for the U-North case because it’s his job, but his heart isn’t in it. And so the case is treated by the filmmakers; it isn’t made glamorous or exciting until the very end, and even then the climax is subdued.

Thrown in to the mix are details of Clayton’s other cases and his personal life. But they come almost as an aside, seemingly unconnected to the central plot, making Michael Clayton more of a character study than a legal thriller.

In spite of this, we never delve too deeply into Clayton’s personal history. As Clooney plays him, he’s something of a blank slate, sleep-walking through life. There are hints at many levels of subtext, but much is left to the viewers’ imaginations.

Interestingly, the film’s most memorable characters are supporting players: Crowder and Edens. They are played perfectly by Swinton and Wilkinson, each of whom delivers an incredible performance. Both portray characters with severe mood or personality disorders, and both manage to capture the nuances of those disorders without going over the top.

But even though the film is a character study of a rather nondescript character, and the central storyline is a little lacklustre, it’s so well put together that I still really enjoyed it. Yes, it’s slow, but it isn’t afraid to let us watch as Clayton gazes, awestruck, at a trio of horses in a meadow. Or to hold the camera for several minutes on a man in a taxi. Or to start the film with a series of images of an office building. It’s beautifully written and directed by Tony Gilroy, who co-wrote all three Bourne films and who makes his directorial debut with Michael Clayton. Here’s a filmmaker who understands how to mix all the elements of a film together, creating a final product that is far greater than the sum of its parts.

I am less enthusiastic about Rendition. It tells the story of Egyptian-born US resident Anwar El-Ibrahimi (Omar Metwally) who is covertly moved to an African prison when the CIA identifies him as a terror suspect. Horrifyingly, this is all too familiar.

My biggest gripe with this film is that it tells the story in a generic way, leaving me to wonder what the point was. We’ve all heard this story before. If it’s going to be retold, it should either be excellently crafted or bring a new perspective to the ongoing dialogue.

Instead, it’s mediocre. The lead performances are flat, with a disappointing turn from Jake Gyllenhaal (who’s capable of so much more) as CIA analyst Douglas Freeman. He needs to return to his indie roots, or at least start choosing more challenging material. Metwally brings the only bit of soul that Rendition has, although director Gavin Hood failed to capitalize on the actor’s performance.

Final analysis: Michael Clayton—thumbs up; Rendition—thumbs down.

(I will make a point of posting about something other than the latest Hollywood fare… Gotta get back to The ByTowne soon.)

The Kingdom (USA 2007, Action/Drama/Thriller), Writer: Matthew Michael Carnahan; Director: Peter Berg

The Kingdom gets off to a fantastic start, but unfortunately it never matches that again until the very end.

It begins with an animated account of America’s involvement in the Middle East, and particularly in Saudi Arabia. The filmmakers should have used the opening sequence as a trailer because it sells the film far more effectively than did the actual trailers that I saw. The sequence is gripping, fascinating and brilliantly executed. But the trailers suggest a generic Hollywood action flick, and that’s what The Kingdom is for the most part, so at least they can’t be accused of false advertising.

The bulk of the film feels hollow. It follows an elite FBI team on the hunt for Saudi terrorists who bombed a Western housing compound in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia.

The filmmakers made a visible effort to show that people in the Middle East aren’t so very different from people in the Western world. We see them reading to their children and praying before bed, in much the same way that Americans do each night. The sequence comes immediately after a scene in which the FBI team members, camped out in a Riyadh gymnasium, quiz each other on the number of virgins Muslim men are entitled to when they reach paradise. It’s a nice contrast, and a study in how the west views the east, but it’s a little too heavy-handed for my taste.

The Kingdom also goes to great lengths to make the point that the Saudi leadership is just as keen to arrest the Saudi terrorists as are the Americans. It’s an important point to make, but it would be nice if all those points could be made with a bit more subtlety.

A couple of major objections to The Kingdom:

1. The exploitative scenario involving the kidnapping and potential beheading of one of the FBI team members. I thought this was in poor taste given that this has happened repeatedly in the real world. It’s bad enough when trendy horror films glorify torture to capitalize on cheap thrills, but at least the scenarios they depict are usually far removed from reality. To use something that has happened to North Americans in recent history, and to make light of it after the fact (in one of the film’s very few lighter moments), bothered me.

2. As the only female member of the FBI team, Jennifer Garner is distracting. Not because she’s female, but because she’s not convincing in her role. I couldn’t take her seriously when she spouted intelligence about the Saudi cell, or anything else for that matter. Her soft, whispery delivery just didn’t cut it.

By the film’s conclusion, when director Peter Berg draws a somewhat forced parallel between two storylines, I was expecting the worst. But the film surprised me with what is probably the perfect closing line for The Kingdom. It’s an honest reflection of the way many people feel about all this conflict. It conveys both our fear and our misunderstanding, and although the line is frightening to consider, it represents a truly human reaction to something that threatens to take away life, family and freedom. That line alone elevates the film above other typical Hollywood action movies about the topic-du-jour: it proves the filmmakers weren’t afraid to tell the truth, even if it isn’t pretty.

Into the Wild (USA 2007, Adventure/Biography/Drama), Writer/Director: Sean Penn

Based on Jon Krakauer’s book of the same name, Into the Wild tells the true story of Christopher McCandless (Emile Hirsch), a young American who gave up all his possessions in search of the truth. Upon graduating from Emory University, Chris donated his savings—$24,000 USD—to Oxfam International and traveled across the United States, with Alaska as his ultimate destination.

This film really touched me, but I wonder how much of that had to do with where I was at emotionally the night I saw it. In retrospect, I think the movie is a bit like Chris’ own journey: it features some moments of real truth and beauty but is sometimes muddled along the way.

When Chris (or Alexander Supertramp, the name he goes by throughout most of the film) is alone in nature—when he’s running with horses, brought to tears at the sight of deer in Alaska, or paddling down the rapids on the Colorado River—the film is inspiring. But at 140 minutes, it goes on longer than it should. And although some of McCandless’ encounters along the way ring sincere, others reminded me of Mitch Albom’s The Five People You Meet in Heaven; they’re trying hard to be meaningful and deep, but come across as a little maudlin.

Overall, the story’s structure was handled quite well. The non-linear chronology flows nicely in most parts. And having Chris’ sister Carine (Jena Malone) provide most of the narration was a good choice because, like the viewer, she is also trying to understand Chris’ motives. But the family flashbacks are a little corny. I’m thinking in particular of the scene when Chris’ father (William Hurt) beats his wife and refers to himself as god. Although the scene does set up a beautiful contrast with a later scene in which Hurt casts his tearful eyes to the sky and falls to his knees, beaten down with loss, grief, regret and, hopefully, remorse.

As Chris, Hirsch left me wishing that writer/director Sean Penn had stepped out from behind the camera to pinch-hit. Hirsch is missing that magical ingredient that all truly great actors have: the ability to truly think and feel as their character, and to convey that through the camera without even speaking a word. He lacks the soul and depth that actors such as Penn or Cate Blanchett bring to their roles every time. And for a film that relies on its lead to carry the audience through silent moments of self-revelation, that is a significant absence.

Chris lives very much in his head. He espouses philosophies and quotes from Tolstoy and Thoreau. “Rather than love, than money, than faith, give me truth.” At the beginning of the film, even in its second third, Chris says that it’s a mistake to look to human relationships for happiness. Instead, people should find it all around them, in the rocks, in the trees, in nature. “Find your eternity in each moment.” He certainly makes a good case for the healing power of being alone. You can feel lonelier when you’re with the wrong people than when you’re by yourself.

But after escaping from his biological family to meet a series of substitute parents, Chris’ final revelation is this: “Happiness is only real when shared.” It completely undermines his entire journey, and yours as the viewer if you bought into his previous assertions.

On to Sean Penn… He is one of my absolute favourites. It’s exciting to see one of the greatest actors of all time finding himself as a director. There are some strange directorial choices in the film, one of which is the decision to have Chris stare directly into the camera on more than one occasion. I didn’t understand that at all. Penn creates a world that is supposed to be utterly real, a world in which the main character tries to shed all artifice and find his true self. And then Hirsch breaks character and makes an idiotic face directly into the camera. It totally takes you out of the moment and drives home the fact that you’re watching a construct, a story that was made shot by shot and isn’t real at all.

But I get the feeling that all of this is just Penn testing the waters as a director before he begins creating true masterpieces.

So in the final analysis, I recommend seeing Into the Wild. Despite some drawbacks, the film features beautiful cinematography, some strong performances and a fantastic soundtrack by Eddie Vedder, and it will more than likely get you thinking about your own life and where you want to go.

Eastern Promises (UK/Canada/USA 2007, Crime/Drama/Thriller), Writer: Steven Knight; Director: David Cronenberg

I feel like I need to see this film again before I can really write about it… But thanks to HC’s prodding, here’s my kick at the can.

After all the build-up to Eastern Promises (in my mind, anyway), the best way to describe it is as a shadow of A History of Violence (see July 31, 2007 post). It doesn’t carry the same punch.

There are a lot of parallels between the two films. Both feature Viggo Mortensen as a man who isn’t who he says he is. They explore the role of violence in society, and depict it so realistically that the violence is intolerably graphic (to me). Both films open with unknown thugs committing hideous murders, and feature ambiguous endings that are open to interpretation.

Eastern Promises carries the added weight of examining the interplay between two cultures trying to fit together. Set in London, the film explores the ruthless world of Russian organized crime. Sort of A History of Violence told between spoonfuls of borscht. Nikolai (Mortensen) is a driver for one of the most notorious Russian crime families in England. When a naïve midwife named Anna (Naomi Watts) discovers a diary containing dark secrets about Semyon (Armin Mueller-Stahl), the head of the Russian mafia family, she finds herself caught up in a dangerous world of violence and deception, and turns to Nikolai who appears to be the lesser of many evils.

It’s not that Eastern Promises isn’t a good film. It’s just that Cronenberg set the bar so high with A History of Violence, and his latest effort doesn’t have the same impact. In fact, it seems more like an effort than a labour of love. Eastern Promises lacks the strong undertones that simmered just below the surface of A History of Violence. And because it mirrors a lot of the latter’s structure, you begin to wonder why Cronenberg bothered to make Eastern Promises—what he was trying to say that he hadn’t already.

One thing that doesn’t disappoint is Mortensen’s performance. He really is a phenomenal character actor, capable of impressive physical transformations. He throws himself into the role of Nikolai, body and soul—from the accent and the tattoos, to the bold nude scene that is as graphic as the movie’s violence.

Although I don’t have the stomach for it, I admire the way Cronenberg portrays violence. In interviews, Cronenberg has said that he depicts it as realistically as he does because he wants the horror of death to hit home with viewers. There is nothing glorious about the violence in Eastern Promises. As hard as it is to watch (and I often don’t), it’s a much more respectful way of portraying violence than the exploitative manner in which most modern horror movies do, turning blood and guts into so much eye candy.

Eastern Promises is certainly worth seeing; it’s a solid effort by a skilled, talented filmmaker with a unique perspective on life (and death). But if you’re making a choice, I’d rent A History of Violence first.