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The Ides of March
Thursday, November 10th, 2011—FilmThe Ides of March (USA 2011, Drama), Writers: George Clooney, Grant Heslov, Beau Willimon; Director: George Clooney
I haven’t been paying enough attention to George Clooney as a filmmaker. He’s very good. I saw and really liked Good Night, and Good Luck, and heard great things about Confessions of a Dangerous Mind, both of which Clooney directed. But I guess his standout performances in a range of solid films, including Syriana, Michael Clayton, Up in the Air, Fantastic Mr. Fox (an incredible animated film) and the Ocean’s flicks, overshadowed his reputation as a director. They have for me, anyway. But no more.
From its opening shot through to its closing one, The Ides of March makes it clear that Clooney has a strong appreciation for the tools of cinema. And he wields them well, delivering a finely polished product that features a few neat twists and crevasses—if not in its story, than in its telling.
It’s hard for me not to compare The Ides of March to Drive, another film released this autumn that stars the phenomenal Ryan Gosling. While The Ides of March isn’t as inventive or daring in its direction, it’s still far and away more sophisticated and on pitch than most studio fare, and suggests even greater work to come from Clooney.
The film spends a few pivotal days in the life and career of young Stephen Myers (Gosling), a press secretary—“the best media mind in the country,” in fact—working for Governor Mike Morris (Clooney), who’s running in the Ohio presidential primary. Stephen quickly finds himself in the thick of political scheming and scandal, involving the Governor, intern Molly Stearns (Evan Rachel Wood), campaign manager Paul Zara (Philip Seymour Hoffman) and the opponent’s campaign manager Tom Duffy (Paul Giamatti), and aided and abetted by reporter Ida Horowicz (Marisa Tomei). His character is put to the test, and it isn’t long before he graduates from loyal idealist to vengeful cynic.
The Ides of March is based on the Broadway play Farragut North by Beau Willimon. (In one production, Chris Noth played Hoffman’s role.) I can see how the premise would work well on stage, but Clooney veers away from being overly theatrical by making full use of the cinematic mechanisms at his disposal. In the opening scene, in which Stephen preps the stage for one of the Governor’s speeches, Clooney highlights the showmanship involved in politics without betraying the platform of realism (as opposed to theatricality) that he establishes throughout the film. You’ll need to see the film to appreciate what I’m saying, but through the lighting, cinematography and editing, Clooney brings the viewer onside with Stephen in a moment that could be interpreted as fantasy, and then cleverly reveals how it fits into his everyday reality.
As is frequently the case when good actors direct, The Ides of March features fantastic work from exceptional performers. Tomei in particular creates a very thoroughly etched, interesting character. Hoffman and Giamatti are always great, and Gosling’s star just seems to keep soaring higher with each film he shoots. He’s so very good at hitting the nuances of every character he plays. I find him utterly mesmerizing to watch, much more for his craft than his admittedly handsome features. There’s a scene at the campaign headquarters, just after the fun hits the fan, when Stephen strides into the building and summons Molly into his office. Everything about him—from how Gosling walks, or moves his eyes, or even lifts a pen—perfectly captures the character’s motives, feelings and intentions. Great acting is in the details, and Gosling is impeccable.
But back to Clooney… Watching The Ides of March, I got the sense that he’s building to something pretty great. Not only is his filmmaking growing stronger, but he’s using it more and more as a means of voicing his own political leanings—a good thing, in my opinion. Critics of The Ides of March have argued that it doesn’t cover any new ground, as far as the ins and outs of politics. Perhaps not. But it does showcase exceptional talent—on the part of everyone involved, cast and crew alike—and is surely an important step along the way to many of its players perfecting their games. That makes it newsworthy in my books.
Win Win
Sunday, October 16th, 2011—FilmWin Win (USA 2011, Comedy/Drama), Writer/Director: Thomas McCarthy
If Win Win were a flavour at Cold Stone Creamery, it would have bits of Napoleon Dynamite, a few chunks of Gummo and a healthy dollop of Sideways, all folded into its sweet, salty, deliciously hilarious, only-somewhat acquired taste.
Mike Flaherty (Paul Giamatti) is Win Win’s delightfully woebegone protagonist, a struggling lawyer and volunteer high school wrestling coach who’s taken up jogging to manage his stress and ethical compromise to manage his finances. As he flails about trying to reset his moral compass (he’s a good guy, at heart) and dealing with the consequences of his less-than-dignified choices—all the while leading the local youth wrestling team to victory (or at least to not being disqualified)—we’re treated to a slew of real, flawed, ticklishly funny characters. Notable mentions include his soon-to-be-divorcé pal and personal thermal device Terry (Bobby Cannavale), his needy assistant coach Stephen (Jeffrey Tambor), his steadfast wife Jackie (Amy Ryan), his prize new wrestler and unexpected houseguest Kyle (Alex Shaffer) and his even more woebegone team of seasoned last-place wrestlers.
I loved this movie from the very first shot. How could it go wrong with runners in the autumn woods? Then a stained glass ornament slips (presumably not for the first time) off the window, and Mike’s young daughter finds it broken and mutters a curse under her breath. My kinda dysfunctional movie-family.
At its heart, Win Win is a beautiful, simple story about real life and redemption, with enough bursts of flavour to crack you up along the way. Some of those bursts are among the funniest I’ve ever tasted, particularly Mike’s panic attack during a run and one of the young wrestlers’ unorthodox alternative to not losing. (Win Win, it should be noted, contains the best piece of sports advice in history, and it’s worth seeing the film just to find out what that is.)
Best of all, Win Win won’t give you brain freeze. Now that’s some good ice cream…
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Thank you MG for suggesting Win Win, thank you GR for hooking it up with Netflix, and thank you both for a fabulous pre-birthday birthday dinner. Can’t wait for the next dinner/movie/non-book club. 🙂
Kickass Talks a big game… and delivers!
Monday, October 3rd, 2011—NewsKickass Talks for CARE went off without a hitch, thanks to the support of everyone involved. We raised $3,250 for CARE Canada and $2,249 for Big Brothers Big Sisters Ottawa. A very special thank-you to Terry and Randy Fitzpatrick for hosting the event at their fantastic restaurant Petit Bill’s Bistro. Click here for event details and photos.
Drive
Saturday, September 17th, 2011—FilmDrive (USA 2011, Action/Crime/Drama/Thriller), Writer: Hossein Amini; Director: Nicolas Winding Refn
I’m in the midst of a few things tonight, but wanted to stop and write a bit about Drive, because it’s so exceptional that I can’t not throw down a few words. So, I’m aiming for something of a drive-by blog post here, but I’m finding it hard to write only a brief synopsis of why Drive is so amazing; there’s a lot to say and appreciate about the movie. Film students, take note!
The direction is phenomenal. Danish filmmaker Nicolas Winding Refn is the man to blame for that, and he just picked up the Best Director award at the Cannes International Film Festival for his efforts. Refn is known for a slew of films I haven’t seen, but all of which seem, upon quick review, to involve at least their fair share of violence and murder. Examples include the Pusher trilogy, Bleeder and Fear X. Drive is no exception. Based on the novella of the same name by James Sallis, Refn’s latest flick is about an unnamed Driver (Ryan Gosling) who spends his days as a mechanic and stunt-car driver, his nights as a get-away driver for crooks in the Los Angeles area.
Here’s where it starts getting hard to merely summarize the fabulous aspects of Drive. But I’m trying… Refn frames his scenes and characters exquisitely; he knows exactly how to create and hold tension with the composition and length of the shot, as well as in the arrangement of characters and props (mise-en-scène). He draws brilliant performances from his actors, including Bryan Cranston as Driver’s questionable boss, playing very much, and very well, against type. All of this—the amazing acting, editing, cinematography, storytelling, mood-setting—is illustrated in the opening get-away sequence, which offers enough fodder for an entire essay of its own.
Sound! The sound is extraordinary in Drive: the recordists and editors did a great job with the ambient sound; the pulsing electronic score hovers in the background like a nagging thought tugging at your memory (but in a good way); and the soundtrack is totally awesome. The disco/techno beats blast out in contrast to the dark, nuanced tone of the story and its characters. As subtle as the script is about character development and backstory, a tune like College’s A Real Hero will chime in to tell us straight up that Driver is “a real hero and a real human being.”
Refn seems to have fun playing with contrast and defying expectation. Even the opening credits font clashes with the somber opening scenes: retro pink neon letters are unabashedly slapped over broody, moody shadows.
So much to say… Cutting ahead to the pièce de résistance. The cast is solid all around. I mentioned Cranston, who is joined by a wonderful group of actors, including Albert Brooks, Ron Perlman and the deeply talented Carey Mulligan as Driver’s love interest (though I’d like to see her branch off from the whole “sweet, ethereal, innocent” bit sometime soon). But the standout performance comes from the fantastically gifted Gosling. (I would love to feature him on Kickass Canadians.) I’ve written about him a few times on this site: Lars and the Real Girl, The Believer, Blue Valentine. I don’t think it’s an exaggeration to say that Gosling is among the greatest actors of all time, and on top of that he seems to be a profoundly interesting, unique person. His choice of films alone speaks volumes about his character.
In Drive, Gosling doesn’t talk much; barely at all, in fact. But he communicates plenty with his eyes and body. Refn’s film demands a very technically precise performance from Gosling, and he pulls it off brilliantly. More than that, the actor is able to embody a fully realized person in spite of the fact that the script gives us very little to go on by way of who Driver is. We’re told almost nothing about the character’s past. It’s clear from his actions, and the scrap word tossed out here and there, that he’s very experienced at what he does. But it isn’t until he’s called upon to respond with violence that we know just what he’s capable of. When he strikes, it’s with chilling ease, skill and speed (so that’s why there’s a scorpion emblem on his jacket). It leaves you wondering: “Where did he learn to kill like that?”
Whatever his background, it also taught him not to fear love and to follow a code of honour that includes loyalty and integrity. He has a deep well of violence churning within him, and you see him struggle at times with whether to draw from it or leave it be. But on the whole, he seems to have a pretty solid sense of right and wrong. Driver, Irene (Mulligan) and her young son are among the few “good” people in Drive, and their scenes together seem to exist on another plane: magical wisps that somehow floated into the rest of Drive and took root. I don’t mean to suggest this as a flaw; their scenes come across as stolen moments in time, and again hark back to Refn’s apparent fondness for toying with contrast, and preconceptions about genre.
Honestly, Gosling’s performance, the use of sound, mise-en-scène, direction, genre convention… So many aspects of this film could be broken down and analyzed at length. I’ll stop here, but suffice it to say that I highly recommend Drive. It’s an artful, intelligent, unique, entertaining, gripping movie that deserves the recognition it’s getting. One of the best I’ve seen. Outstanding.
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Happy Birthday, BD! You’re the reason I started this blog, four-and-a-half years ago…
Contagion
Wednesday, September 14th, 2011—FilmContagion (USA/United Arab Emirates 2011, Sci-Fi/Thriller), Writer: Scott Z. Burns; Director: Steven Soderbergh
Walking out of the theatre after having seen Contagion, my first thought was, “What’s the point in making that?”
Not that the film wasn’t expertly made.
Contagion travels the world in pursuit of a host of characters dealing with the outbreak of a new virus called MEV-1, a deadly hybrid of bat, pig and human flu strains. It’s directed by the talented, inventive and versatile Steven Soderbergh, who gives Ang Lee a run for his money when it comes to range (Soderbergh helmed Traffic, Ocean’s Eleven, Out of Sight, Sex, Lies, and Videotape, among many others). It’s written by Scott Z. Burns (The Bourne Ultimatum, The Informant), who’s known for his highly intelligent scripts. And it features a jaw-dropping cast that includes Matt Damon, Gwyneth Paltrow, Jude Law, Kate Winslet, Marion Cotillard, Laurence Fishburne… Even supporting roles are filled by the likes of Bryan Cranston and John Hawkes (exceptional in Winter’s Bone and Me and You and Everyone We Know).
On top of that, Contagion’s score is cool and fitting. And given the number of principal characters the film checks in with, its pacing is excellent, hitting on subtext and events that occurred off-screen with just the right touch. All in all, it’s a very sleek production.
But for all its technical prowess, the film lacks any real emotional punch. This is due partly to the volume of characters we’re presented with, but also to the way in which they’re treated. It’s as if they’re being reported on by an objective observer. Rather than creating any strong attachment to the characters, the film offers a fairly detached account of what would most likely happen—or in some cases, what has happened—in the event of an outbreak.
That ability to project what would most likely occur in the real world was precisely what I liked about Neill Blomkamp’s remarkable alien flick District 9. But in that case, it was based on something, well, alien to planet Earth. (District 9 also succeeds in creating a far greater emotional hook with its story and characters.) With MEV-1, we’ve seen similar scenarios played out in real life, through outbreaks such as H1N1 and the bird flu. So, in spite of the film’s many great aspects, Contagion left me wondering, “Why bother?”
I mentioned this to my sister as we left the theatre, and she argued that the point is simply to present a scenario, as is the case with almost any movie. Still, I came away feeling empty, and that’s rarely the case with a film I consider to be “good.” With Contagion, there was no dramatic pull, no feelings elicited. It did, however, make me wish I could interview Soderbergh or Burns to ask why they wanted to tell this story.
Presumably the film’s narrative structure is meant to parallel the way the virus works: logically, without emotion, moving from person to person and sometimes back again. If that was the thinking behind such a removed approach to storytelling, it makes sense to me. But it doesn’t change the fact that Contagion left me cold.
Given all that, I’m struck by the odd choice of taglines for the film: “Nothing spreads like fear.” I never got a strong sense of that fear, even when the looting and murdering began; those activities were underplayed and presented in an almost clinical manner. But I guess “Nothing provokes thought like hyper-intellectual filmmaking and experimentation in narrative presentation” doesn’t exactly flow lovingly off the tongue…
It’s probably unclear from this review whether or not I recommend Contagion. I’ll try to remedy that: I think I recommend Contagion. But I won’t be in a rush to watch it a second time on video. Call it a rental.
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I came across an interesting article about Contagion in the Atlantic that was written by an epidemiologist. The most salient point to me is the unfortunate tendency the public has to dismiss public health organizations as somewhat extraneous when outbreaks don’t play out in the worst-case scenario. As Dr. Larry Madoff points out, recent outbreaks were contained because the regulating bodies did their jobs very well, not because the viruses didn’t pose a legitimate threat. Worth a read, I think.
a peek inside the fishbowl promotes Kickass Talks for CARE
Friday, September 9th, 2011—NewsThank you to blogger extraordinaire Andrea Tomkins for posting about Kickass Talks for CARE on her blog a peek inside the fishbowl.
Kickass Talks for CARE
Sunday, August 21st, 2011—NewsKickassCanadians.ca proudly presents the inaugural Kickass Talks for CARE, a fundraiser for CARE Canada and Big Brothers Big Sisters of Ottawa. It takes place Sunday, October 2, 2011 at Petit Bill’s Bistro. Please click here to learn more.
Tim Robbins
Tuesday, July 19th, 2011—FilmWhile the cakes are cooling, while I’m icing (some of) what ails me, and before the dark prevents me from walking through the farm… I’ll take a few minutes to write about someone who’s been on my mind lately.
Tim Robbins and the Rogues Gallery Band is what it took to finally get me out to the Cisco Ottawa Bluesfest. A very special experience; thank you KG for the ticket. For some reason, Robbins kept popping up in the weeks prior, even before I realized he was lined up to play. A dear friend leant me Mystic River, which I eagerly re-watched. Two other close friends swept me off to a cottage getaway and played The Shawshank Redemption, which I saw for the first time. After that, I almost popped in Dead Man Walking, a long-ago gift from someone close to my heart, but as outstanding as the film is, it’s a little hard to watch sometimes… Not that the other two make for light viewing.
I’m hesitant to write about Robbins’ film history because he seems so keen to promote music at the moment. But his acting, directing and writing are what I know and what I’m so taken by. So, I’ll be brief and say this about his music:
He looked so happy to be onstage. In fact, so did all the members of his band, including the John Lithgow look-alike on the accordion. The songs were upbeat, for the most part, and many had a Celtic feel. To be honest, I skipped out for a bit to catch some of The Tea Party on another stage, but it was a thrill to see Robbins perform live. It’s been almost 10 years since I last (and first) saw him in person; I heard him speak at the Irish Arts Center in Manhattan, along with Gabriel Byrne, Helen Mirren and Susan Sarandon, and it was one of the best nights of my life. I’d make a point of watching him and his Rogues Gallery again. I doubt they’d have the same appeal for me if I wasn’t already such a fan of Robbins, but then again, if the music didn’t pass muster, I wouldn’t have wandered back to his stage after making the rounds at Bluesfest.
About his films, as that is the topic of this blog, I’ll also say a brief bit:
The three films I mentioned above are three very fine examples of Hollywood filmmaking. Robbins wrote and directed Dead Man Walking, which includes a devastating Academy Award-nominated performance by the astounding Sean Penn (and is scored by Robbins’ brother David). In both Mystic River (from director Clint Eastwood) and The Shawshank Redemption (from writer/director Frank Darabont), Robbins gives brilliant performances, both times as someone wrongly accused and horribly punished.
On top of being amazing, those three films are also very disturbing. So, I’ll throw a fourth, much lighter Robbins film into the mix, which, like the others, is fantastic and holds sentimental value for me: Robert Altman’s The Player, featuring Robbins as a movie exec in an eight-minute opening shot that’s analyzed endlessly in film school.
Too much to say about the films, not enough daylight remaining… Rent all four (with the caution that the first three deal with very upsetting subject matter); they’re exceptional films made by some of the best American filmmakers in recent history.
As for Tim Robbins and the Rogues Gallery Band, I hope it keeps Robbins smiling for a long time to come.
The Tree of Life
Friday, July 15th, 2011—FilmThe Tree of Life (USA 2011, Drama), Writer/Director: Terrence Malick
Terrence Malick is that rare breed of artist whose works always offer something worth seeing. He’s known for making films infrequently, but that are many layers deep: Badlands, Days of Heaven, The Thin Red Line, The New World and now The Tree of Life.
Some people find Malick’s latest film to be pretentious or overly ambitious. With its whispered voiceover and narration, which are more like snippets of a poem than of a conversation, its lingering attention to imagery, its contemplation of the creation of the universe and of the afterlife, and its sheer length, I can easily see why some people are put off. But I wasn’t. It felt long, for sure, but there was a rhythm to it I wouldn’t want to interfere with.
This is the thing about The Tree of Life: Malick allows it to show life happening, to flow and turn in the direction and at the pace it needs to take to flourish. He made a perfect choice in highlighting Smetana’s composition The Moldau somewhere in the heart of the film. I was so happy to hear those first notes; I’m no classical music expert, but this was a piece my sisters and I danced and composed ballets to as little girls, and its opening immediately takes me back to a world of make-believe, where everything seems possible. It depicts the Moldau River, the longest in the Czech Republic. Beginning with the tender breaths of the flute, gentle slivers of water stream over pebbles, then build and pulse into a powerful force that gushes over everything in its path and grows stronger with each beat. Water—the source of life from which the tree can take root.
On a narrative level, The Tree of Life centres around the eldest of three brothers (Hunter McCracken, who grows up to be Sean Penn) and his relationship with his sweet, gentle mother (a spectacular Jessica Chastain) and bitter, severe father (Brad Pitt). But the film’s strength isn’t in its narrative focus; it’s in its vision and scope. Malick does no less than explore how life is formed, on a cellular level as well as on emotional, psychological and spiritual levels.
As the film weaves its few scenes with dialogue in and out of long unspoken moments accompanied only by ambient sound and music, of montages showcasing a feast of beautiful images that often render the everyday abstract and feature light spattered across subjects in such a gorgeous way, it steps very close to the line dividing experimental and narrative film. It has to be the least expository movie I’ve ever seen. So much is said with looks and actions rather than words.
The Tree of Life is about the forces of nature (human and otherwise), about birth and death, love and hatred, joy and sorrow, creation and destruction. It’s stunning and moving, and I wish there was some way to frame it so I could wander past some of its most beautiful moments and absorb them again, even when I don’t feel up to settling in for the film’s entire run.
Beginners
Saturday, July 9th, 2011—FilmBeginners (USA 2011, Comedy/Drama), Writer/Director: Mike Mills
I really liked this bittersweet piece about love and its many flavours.
A near-middle aged cartoonist named Oliver (Ewan McGregor) has never been able to make a relationship work. Actually, to be more on point, he doesn’t really believe they can work, so he does everything he can to make sure they won’t. That’s his estimation, anyway. He attributes it to his parents’ lack of intimacy throughout their 44-year marriage. But when his newly widowed father Hal (Christopher Plummer) reveals the truth—that he’s gay—it sheds a new light on Oliver’s views about love.
Beginners is told through flashbacks to Hal’s last years, as he finally falls in love and enjoys life as he was meant to, but also falls prey to cancer; through present-day moments as Oliver tries to make sense of a rare and strange connection he has to French film actress Anna (Mélanie Laurent); and through funny little quirks and devices, such as a “talking” dog who communicates via subtitles, and sketches and scribbles drawn by Oliver to illustrate some of the film’s musings (like The History of Sadness, which includes the first gay man, who was diagnosed as mentally ill, and the first couple to get married for the wrong reasons).
The film drew me in with its outstanding cast. McGregor is an all-time favourite of mine, an actor with great depth, charm, versatility and humour. He’s awesome. Plummer is as dapper and nuanced as ever. I love seeing him so strong at 81; I hope he lasts forever. Laurent is extraordinary. I’ve been eager to see her again since being blown away by her performance in Inglourious Basterds, and she doesn’t disappoint.
But Beginners is more than just a terrific ensemble piece. Writer/director Mike Mills mixes and matches styles, moving from fast-paced photomontages to more standard fare, and incorporating a “talking” dog and cartoon strips, all the while jumping back and forth in time. It would have been easy to overwhelm or annoy the audience with a recipe like that, but Mills strikes a good balance and creates something that is at once funny, sad, odd, sincere and resonant.
Hal’s storyline is made all the more effective because it’s partially based on Mills’ own father. References to the late gay politician Harvey Milk and Allan Ginsberg’s poem Howl aren’t cloying; they’re spot on and entirely relevant. That was the world Hal existed in, where openly homosexual men were shot and shunned. If he wanted a career and a house and a family, he had to be straight.
Beginners gives most of its attention to Oliver and Anna, which is fine because the pair has a very special chemistry. But Oliver reveals some interesting truths—about his world, Hal’s world and our world—in his quest to make love work and to truly be himself in a relationship. The film is sweetly and touchingly summed up with a quote from The Velveteen Rabbit:
“It doesn’t happen all at once… You become. It takes a long time. That’s why it doesn’t happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.”
A wise friend once said to me, “Everyone wants a framework in which they can love and be loved.” Here’s to finding that framework, no matter what its shape.
[For the next time you’re in a renting mood, here are a few other films that feature homosexuality and are well worth a viewing: Bad Education, Shortbus, Milk, The Kids Are All Right and Howl, which I never reviewed but should have… a stunning piece of art.]
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To DB and new beginnings.
