Archive for the ‘Film’ Category
« Older EntriesNewer Entries »
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.]
* * *
To DB and new beginnings.
The National Parks Project
Sunday, July 3rd, 2011—FilmThe National Parks Project (Canada 2011, Documentary), Writer: Joel McConvey; Directors: Various
A few months ago, I interviewed the creators and producers of The National Parks Project—Joel McConvey, Geoff Morrison and Ryan J. Noth—for my website KickassCanadians.ca. You can read the article (please do!) for more on the project’s genesis, but in a nutshell:
Last year, on the eve of Parks Canada’s centennial, these three wunderminds sent 13 crews of filmmakers and musicians to a national park in each of Canada’s provinces and territories. The artists recorded the sights and sounds that were experienced and inspired in the natural landscape, and their footage and audio was used to create 13 short films. Together, these shorts comprise the feature documentary The National Parks Project.
While catching up with Joel and Geoff this Canada Day weekend, I picked up a DVD of the film and watched it the first chance I got. I was mesmerized throughout almost every short. What a way to celebrate the nation’s 144th birthday!
Some aspects of the documentary surprised me. I knew the shorts were largely experimental and featured mostly music, ambient sound and park footage. I was expecting ethereal shots, breathtaking scenery and transcendent instrumentals, and there was all of that in abundance.
What I wasn’t expecting was the unique artistic slants taken for several of the shorts. Many incorporated effects, titles and voice-over, often to create a somewhat linear story. Some of the shorts I wouldn’t necessarily classify as documentaries per se, but rather as experimental fiction shot in national parks. (In particular, Quand j’aurai vu les îles, shot in Mingan Archipelago National Park Reserve, Quebec.) But I guess it depends on how strictly you define “documentary,” as almost every film has a story or slant, to some degree.
I won’t get into specifics on all 13 films, but suffice it to say that I very much liked almost every one, and loved three in particular: Night Vision, Prince Albert National Park, Saskatchewan; Sirmilik, Sirmilik National Park, Nunavut; and Kluane, Kluane National Park and Reserve, Yukon.
In Night Vision, you don’t see a great deal of the park, both because of the night vision shooting and because of the fact that what is shown are often close-up or abstract glimpses seen through the eyes of the young female narrator. But the film has a certain magic to it and ends with a lovely point about preserving the land (and the dream-like experience of visiting that land) without hammering the message home.
Sirmilik makes a similar point concerning climate change, but again, not throughout the entire piece and not with a heavy hand. I loved Sirmilik in the way it contrasts the stunning natural environment, both in close-up and landscape shots, with touches of civilization (e.g. polar bears spray-painted onto a corner store by the outskirts) and glimpses into the region’s culture, language and music.
Kluane makes it clear from the opening shot that it’s going to turn perspective on its head. It opens with an upside down tracking shot of the rocky terrain and frequently revisits that technique, along with jump cuts, fast motion, abstract imagery, underwater footage and spectacular landscapes, to create a moving still life of the unique and staggering beauty that is Yukon’s National Park.
That feat is something all the films collectively achieve. They take beautiful shots of the parks and bring them to life with motion, music and ingenuity, creating the most incredible album of moving portraits. The artists involved in The National Parks Project have empowered the parks with a voice, letting the landscapes do most of the talking. They’ve imbued each piece with their own flavour and ideas, but on the whole it’s the parks that shine through as the undeniable stars.
* * *
I proudly dedicate this post to Joel, Geoff and Ryan. You’ve done a wonderful thing. Bravo!
For more on The National Parks Project and a full list of the filmmakers and musicians involved, please visit nationalparksproject.ca. The documentary is playing in Ottawa, Waterloo and Winnipeg this week. Click here for details on those and other screenings.
Hanna
Sunday, April 10th, 2011—FilmHanna (USA/UK/Germany 2011, Action/Adventure/Thriller), Writers: Seth Lochhead, David Farr; Director: Joe Wright
Once upon a time in Hollywoodland, a brilliant young actress named Saoirse Ronan re-teamed with her Atonement director Joe Wright to defy boundaries and conventions, and create a new twist on the classic fairytale. The result? A very twisted tale indeed.
Hanna is about a lovely girl with big blue eyes and flowing blond locks, who was raised by her father Erik (Eric Bana) in a Finnish forest to be the perfect assassin. Poppa is a former CIA agent with a score to settle. Hanna (Ronan) is grappling with the usual coming-of-age issues facing most young girls who have been brought up in isolation, exposed to the outside world through only Grimm’s fairytales and an outdated encyclopedia, trained to kill without hesitation or remorse, and ingrained with the mantra “Adapt or die.”
When Hanna hits the golden age of 16, Erik realizes she’s ready to step out into the world and complete her life’s mission: to kill CIA operative Marissa Wiegler (Cate Blanchett). Hanna flips the switch to adulthood—the one that also alerts Marissa to her whereabouts, and brings a torrent of armored gunmen to the snow-covered forest for Hanna’s capture—and the story kicks into high gear.
As she journeys through Morocco and Europe, Hanna encounters a series of oddball characters, many of whom are distortions of “classic” fairytale characters. (One is even called Mr. Grimm.) Through her coming-of-age adventure, she gets her first kiss, makes her first friend and completes her first human kill. In the reverse order. And usually in time to The Chemical Brothers’ psychedelic score.
Wright clearly had fun exploring how to incorporate fairytale allusions throughout the film. There’s an abundance of visual references to support the script, as well as a killer soundtrack. In his trippy and highly stylized approach, Wright somehow manages to make his heroine’s peculiar point of view seem normal when compared with the characters and scenarios she stumbles upon. From the hippie tourist family Hanna picks up with, to the manic, obsessive-compulsive Marissa, and especially to Marissa’s rogue henchman Isaacs (Tom Hollander), who plays very much like a sideshow ringmaster, nearly everyone Hanna meets on the yellow brick trail full of bread crumbs is a little… off.
The film takes risks. It throws genre conventions onto the chopping block, then tosses them all back into the bowl to serve up a unique blend of drama and satire, hyperrealism and caricature, simplicity and overkill. A tidily book-ended world of chaos. A bedtime story with bipolar mood disorder.
Hanna may be touted as “a fairytale gone wrong.” But it’s definitely a movie gone right.
Barney’s Version (feat. director Richard J. Lewis)
Thursday, February 24th, 2011—FilmBarney’s Version (Canada/Italy 2010, Drama), Writer: Michael Konyves; Director: Richard J. Lewis
I recently posted an article to my other website KickassCanadians.ca about Barney’s Version director Richard J. Lewis. It features a lot of inside information about the film, so rather than writing a separate post here, I’m offering up the link.
Having the opportunity to pose my questions directly to the source, rather than pondering them here in the ether, was an incredible experience. I hope you’ll enjoy reading the article as much as I enjoyed talking with, and writing about, Lewis.
Blue Valentine
Saturday, January 29th, 2011—FilmBlue Valentine (USA 2010, Drama/Romance), Writers: Derek Cianfrance, Cami Delavigne, Joey Curtis; Director: Derek Cianfrance
“You always hurt the one you love, the one you shouldn’t hurt at all….”
I expected to be gushing pink hearts and flowers after seeing Blue Valentine, but instead I’m just sort of reflective.
Blue Valentine examines Cindy (Michelle Williams) and Dean’s (Ryan Gosling) relationship by crosscutting between the hopeful early days and bitter final ones of their life together. I’ve been eagerly anticipating its release since I read an interview with filmmakers Derek Cianfrance and Joey Curtis last year about the movie’s genesis. Blue Valentine was more than a decade in the making, and involved a hugely collaborative process with its actors, including a one-month period in which Gosling and Williams lived together as a “family” with the actor who plays their daughter.
Now, having finally seen Blue Valentine, I’m somewhat conflicted in my feelings toward it. The film is heavily improvised, which sometimes leads to delicate, wonderfully nuanced delivery, and other times feels a bit self-conscious.
I really like the idea of contrasting the couple’s past and present, and of creating a story from only key moments or glimpses of a life. Cianfrance did a gorgeous job of showing how specific gestures and actions that are still technically the same can come across as sweet and tender in one instance, vile and hateful in another. But on the whole, it felt a little disjointed and I occasionally found myself wishing that it had a stronger narrative structure. Or maybe that the filmmakers had made slightly different choices in the moments they decided to show and omit. (I think Blue Valentine would be interesting as a series of installation pieces in an exhibit, with the various scenes—happy or horrendous, hopeful or hateful—playing out at the same time.)
The moments that work (and most of them do) are so raw, real and loaded with truth that they’re often hard to watch. Both Gosling and Williams are incredibly well served by the intensive process Cianfrance put them through. I’m a huge Gosling fan (Lars and the Real Girl, The Believer, Drive, The Ides of March) and he’s excellent here. But as much as he shines, Williams positively glows; her Academy Award nomination is richly deserved.
In addition to its occasionally flawed arrangement, Blue Valentine left me somewhat unsatisfied because I was expecting a story about how a good love can turn bad. Instead, it was more a story of what happens when two people who are poorly matched get married for the “wrong” reasons. I would be more interested in seeing the evolution of a couple who truly are head over heels and a lovely match to start, but for whom life and psychology get in the way.
Blue Valentine is smart, and lovingly put together by a talented filmmaking team. There’s a lot to like, and it’s cool to see the results of such a dedicated and unorthodox approach to moviemaking. I just can’t shake the feeling that it could have been tightened up a bit to work better as a feature film, making every one of the movie’s moments as impactful and resonant as its best.
“… and if I broke your heart last night, it’s because I love you most of all.”
* * *
For LP, GR and MG: Ours will be pink. I promise.
Black Swan
Tuesday, December 21st, 2010—FilmBlack Swan (USA 2010, Drama/Thriller), Writers: Mark Heyman, Andres Heinz, John McLaughlin; Director: Darren Aronofsky
It looks like I’m going to have eat my words a bit as far as Black Swan is concerned. Or at least chew them a little longer before spitting them out.
If you read my teaser about Black Swan and 127 Hours, you’ll see that I’m a fan of director Darren Aronofsky’s and that I was looking forward to his treatment of psychological and physical deterioration in the world of the New York City ballet. In that regard, Black Swan didn’t disappoint. It’s an extremely visual film, and Aronofsky achieves many beautiful, even poetic moments. But its script is fairly unsubstantial, and the end result for me was an underdeveloped storyline with two-dimensional characters.
It doesn’t take much of a leap to see why the rigid, punishing life of a ballet dancer could easily lead to self-destruction. But too much of what Nina (Natalie Portman) puts herself through is left unanswered or unexplained. As she spirals further out of control in her quest for perfection—desperate to master both the innocent white swan and the dangerous black swan that are required of her performance—the movie starts to feel increasingly contrived.
Aronofsky has explored similar subject matter in previous films with far greater success. The Wrestler worked because its treatment of Mickey Rourke’s wrestler was clearer and less abstract than Portman’s Nina. Requiem for a Dream took its characters to some dark, confusing places, but it made sense given that they were heroin addicts. Because Nina’s turmoil isn’t fully examined or justified, Black Swan comes across as melodramatic and gratuitous.
Throughout Black Swan, I was reminded of David Lynch’s brilliant film Mulholland Drive. Both movies combine dream, fantasy and reality to explore the main character’s psyche and portray her contradictions and inner conflicts. But with Mulholland Drive, confusing though it can be, everything makes sense. If you study the film, or even read its breakdown online, everything ties up neatly. There’s a satisfaction in that. By contrast, Black Swan feels messy and unfulfilling.
Aronosfky’s direction is great, so if you want to see stunning shots and sequences accompanied by Tchaikovsky’s music, there’s something to be gained from watching Black Swan. Portman is also a highlight, giving a very controlled performance that somehow manages to portray extreme intensity with an incredibly delicate touch. But all in all, I’m underwhelmed by Black Swan.
127 Hours
Saturday, December 4th, 2010—Film127 Hours (USA/UK 2010, Adventure/Biography/Drama), Writers: Danny Boyle, Simon Beaufoy; Director: Danny Boyle
I was really stoked to see 127 Hours and it absolutely lived up to my expectations. This movie is fantastic. As I mentioned not long ago in a teaser about the film, it’s based on the book Between a Rock and a Hard Place, Aron Ralston’s real life account of the five days he spent trapped in a Utah canyon and the choice he had to make to survive: cutting off his right arm, which was pinned under a boulder.
I don’t think I’m exaggerating when I say that writer/director Danny Boyle and lead actor James Franco make 127 Hours a masterpiece. I’m wondering whether some of my love for the film comes from where I’m at right now, just as Into the Wild had a stronger impact on me because of the personal context at the time I saw it. But objectively, I think 127 Hours really is one of the best movies I’ve ever seen.
Boyle outdoes himself technically. His film is expertly structured, and visually and aurally stunning. He captures the glorious splendor of the land Aron tries to explore and conquer. Then, with seemingly equal ease, Boyle creates a tight, claustrophobic world where Aron is forced to look within himself and explore an entirely different realm than the vast canyons and mountains that had been his focus for so long. Not only does Boyle make Aron’s time in the crevice feel utterly genuine and believable, but Boyle also manages to bring thrills and excitement to those scenes. He does wonders with Aron’s hallucinations, dreams and flashbacks, not to mention his direction of Franco.
As Aron, Franco delivers what is easily one of his best performances. His portrayal is incredibly raw and completely without artifice. Franco lets us see Aron change before our eyes as he hangs from his (one)handmade sling, trying to stay alive and, in the process, finding a reason behind it all. When he breaks down in sobs, it isn’t just because he’s trapped at the bottom of a canyon. It’s because he’s finally realized just how isolated he’d made himself, and it took being physically prevented from returning to the rest of the world for him to see what a handicap that was. Every moment in his life—every unreturned phone call, every wall he put up between himself and those around him—led him to that canyon, beneath that boulder, with none of his loved ones having the first clue where to find him or even that he was missing. As he says, “I chose this.”
If 127 Hours wasn’t based on a true story, this premise could seem like a very convenient, if artful, metaphor. But it truly was lived by Ralston. He was in such a hurry to seek out what he thought would, or did, make him happy, that he buried and dismissed the cost of avoiding any real connection with the people in his life. (“These things that are pleasin’ you can hurt you somehow.”)
Aron’s story, as well as a number of other events that I’ve heard of or experienced in the past while, have had me wondering: How much of life’s events are laid out in advance as if to form a film or a novel? Whether you believe that things happen for a reason, or that you can draw lessons and create your own reason from what has happened, there’s a certain symmetry in life that I find hard to discount and impossible not to marvel at.
I won’t follow that thought much further so as not to give away more details about the movie. Many of the film’s other moments that struck a chord for me come in Aron’s reactions when he’s finally free of the rock and when he’s able to seek help, and although you know in advance that these things will happen, I don’t want to ruin the delivery. I will say that Boyle has tackled a challenging story and succeeded in creating an impressive, powerful and exciting film that inspires hope without ever being sentimental.
See this movie. Even if you can’t stomach gore. You can close your eyes when Aron parts ways with his limb (I did). But 127 Hours is a film not to be missed; it’s an important and amazing story told by incredible filmmakers working at their best.
* * *
This post is for CDC and MDC. I always love their reason. Merci.
Black Swan & 127 Hours (teasers)
Tuesday, November 23rd, 2010—FilmBlack Swan (USA 2010, Drama/Thriller), Writers: Mark Heyman, Andres Heinz, John McLaughlin; Director: Darren Aronofsky
127 Hours (USA/UK 2010, Adventure/Biography/Drama), Writers: Danny Boyle, Simon Beaufoy; Director: Danny Boyle
Two movies are coming down the pipes that I’m VERY excited about… and that make me think I should put more effort into getting to film festivals so that I won’t be forced to wait so long before seeing works like these. The movies are Darren Aronofsky’s Black Swan and Danny Boyle’s 127 Hours. You can see the trailer for Black Swan here and for 127 Hours here. Both gave me shivers the first time I watched them.
Aronofsky’s films always intrigue me. After glancing back at what I wrote about his fantastic 2008 film The Wrestler, I’m reminded of the director’s penchant for exploring the depths of human misery, and how far obsession and the need for acceptance can drive people to spiral completely out of control. That may not make Black Swan sound like an appealing holiday flick, but if you’re interested in human psychology and pathology—as well as artful filmmaking—I think Black Swan is a very safe bet.
The film is set in the highly competitive, and evidently toxic, world of the New York City Ballet. When sweet Nina (Natalie Portman) is cast as the lead dancer in Swan Lake, her struggle to summon the darker, more sultry side of the role takes her to some very dangerous places. Everything about this movie entices me, from the tone to the subject matter to the cast. Portman is one of the most captivating and impressive people in the film industry. And I look forward to seeing what tricks of the imagination Aronofsky will pull this time around.
My reasons for wanting to see 127 Hours are similar, although the movies appear to be completely different. I hadn’t heard of 127 Hours until I saw its trailer before Howl, both of which star the outstanding James Franco. The energy and excitement of 127 Hours came across immediately. It’s based on the book Between a Rock and a Hard Place, Aron Ralston’s (Franco) real-life account of his experience getting caught between a rock (a boulder) and a hard place (a canyon wall) in Canyonlands, Utah, and having to choose whether to perish alone or amputate himself.
Given the performances Franco has been giving lately, he’s reason enough to get in line for 127 Hours. Milk, Howl, even Pineapple Express—all showcase his talent, range and fearlessness. Then there’s director Danny Boyle (Trainspotting, Slumdog Millionaire). He has all the creativity and cojones needed to take a book about a guy trapped alone in a canyon and make it an engaging movie. Boyle has proven he takes no prisoners when it comes to filmmaking, which both draws me to his latest effort and guarantees that I’ll be closing my eyes when it’s decision time for Aron. (People have reportedly been vomiting or passing out during the movie’s most intense moments.)
There’s a really interesting article by Peter Debruge in Creative Screenwriting Magazine about the evolution of 127 Hours. I can’t find it online, but it’s worth tracking down if you want to read more about how Boyle adapted the book for the screen, and how the challenges of the medium necessitated climbing even farther into Ralston’s psyche and personal life.
So, I’ll almost certainly be writing about these two films in the coming weeks, and will most definitely be watching them. Even without having seen the films, I can say with complete confidence that you should go; they will be worth the price of admission.
