LabuzaMovies.Com

VIDEO ESSAY — The Double Life of James and Juliette: Mysteries and Perceptions in Kiarostami's Certified Copy

2012-01-26T08:54:00.000-05:00

Inspired by therecent wave of video criticism that has taken over blogs like Fandor and Press Play (both essential reading/viewing), I decided to try my own hand in writing,editing, and producing a video essay myself. The first, presented above,tackles my favorite film of 2011, Abbas Kiarostami’s Certified Copy. I hope you enjoy this, as I had a greattime making the essay, and hope to do more throughout 2012. Any comments orfeedback would be greatly appreciated, either in the comments below or byemail.

TRANSCRIPT

The newest film from Iranian director Abbas Kiarostami, Certified Copy, is a complete and totalenigma. Many films pose mysteries at their centers, including detectivestories, thrillers with multiple twists, and now often art films that poseambiguous endings. But Certified Copyemerges as something of a different order, because it challenges the spectatorto explore the mystery yet never come to any particular solution. But byexamining the clues Kiarostami gives us, we, the audience, can understand the philosophicalideas of what our answers may suggest.

If you haven’t seen the film, I should note that this essaywill include spoilers, which is unavailable on DVD in the United States but nowon Netflix Instant. That actually includes people who have actually Certified Copy, as there’s much that onemay miss a first and even a seconding viewing, a testament to the art ofKiarostami.

Certified Copyfollows an art philosopher named James Miller, played by William Shimmel and anunnamed character played by Julitte Binoche, only known as “She” in thecredits. For simplicity sake, I’ll be referring to the character as Binoche.The two strangers meet after he gives a lecture, and walk around a small Tuscanvillage without much of an agenda. But suddenly the film seems to switch—theseare no longer strangers, but a married couple struggling through the day aftertheir fifteenth wedding anniversary.

Kiarostami has said in interviews that there is no directanswer to whether the two protagonists had a previous relationship or not.However, that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t search for the clues to answer it. Certified Copy is one of those rarefilms that ties its emotional stakes to its philosophical stakes. If we believeone solution, it means we must assume some proposition about the nature of artthat James discusses in his book. At the core of Certified Copy is Kiarostami’s own philosophical proposition,explained by James in his opening lecture:

What I want to do is discuss here are three theories relatedto the film and its central mystery, and explore how Kiarostami hints at themwith visual details, the use of particular dialogue (including the delivery ofthat dialogue), and the metatextual elements of the film, a crucial key in manyof Kiarostami’s films.

There’s a particular turning point in Certified Copy where we realize the film we thought were watchingcompletely turns into something different. While sitting in a café, the ownerbegins talking with Binchoe while James is away.

Binoche tells this to James, who does not dispute.

It is after they leave this café where the movie changesfrom something more reminiscent of BeforeSunrise to something much more dramatic.

James and Bincohe stop acting like strangers having a somewhatawkward first date, and begin to act like they’ve known each other for years.My theory here is that both parties have never met, but Binoche wants to testJames. Earlier in the film, we learn that she disagrees with certain pointsfrom James’s book on the idea of whether a copy can be just as authentic as theoriginal. So Binoche’s game is this: If James and her can recreate the emotionsof a real couple, and make their drama as authentic as any other, then he wins,so to say.

The question here, however, is who is this game being playedfor. But Kiarostami presents the answer quite simply.

Us.

We are the judges in CertifiedCopy, and Binoche directly challenges us. I started to notice this whenJames and Binoche first sit down at the café. She’s staring directly at us, andwhile Kiarostami gives us her point of view of James, he does not do the same.His look is just off center, and thus that intense connection we get withBinoche through her eyes, we never feel with James.

This puts us in the position of James, who always seems tobe one step behind in keeping up in his role as “husband.” He doesn’t rememberthe events that Binoche seems utterly convinced of, and she seems to have thewhole scheme planned, trying to lead him on to as many details as possible.

This also brings up the nature of casting in film. Binocheis an international superstar, so big that the year Certified Copy premiered at the Cannes Film Festival, it was herface on the festival’s poster. But Shimmel, who gives a remarkable performance,is someone we don’t recognize at all, something he actually comments on at thebeginning of the film.

His origins are in the British opera, so for most audiences,it is easier to identify with him as an unknown, especially given that he has aname, James, while she remains to us as simply Binoche, an actress giving a performance on top of a performance. If we considerwhat an actor is supposed to do, his or her job is to copy the emotions of lifeand present them on screen. And thus, Binoche does exactly that, whether it isher, the actress, or the character pretending to be someone else.

In fact, much of the film’s background feels like copiesupon copies. The streets seem to mimic each other; the cypresses that line thedrive to the town. And then there’s the case of weddings. As soon as we arrivein the town, we see bride…

After bride…

After bride.

Kiarostami has chosen marriage and weddings as a runningbackground theme in Certified Copynot just because of the emotional stakes that weddings suggest, but the idea ofmarriage as a sacred ritual that is supposed to be a one-time event.

Kiarostami plays with this during one of the film’smasterful shots, as a couple pleads with James to be in their wedding photo,having believed that Binchoe and him took a similar photo fifteen years ago.

James initially resists, but he soon gives in, andKiarostami makes a masterstroke by showing another bride lining up, the womanalready tearing up over the importance of this event. Weddings thus becomecopies among copies, each a fleeting moment in the lens of Kiarostami, and anessential reminder that traditions themselves are copies of events from thepast, but none are ever given less value.

As the weddings remind us of the joy of marriage, our twoprotagonists act out their fifteen years of strife and turmoil, trying todiscover what went wrong. The two bring up stories to challenge the other—hischoice to never be around, her lack of understanding for his situation.Kiarostami constantly brings us closer to the more intimate into the details oftheir relationship. As they try to cross boundaries, so do we.

One of the major keys is a discussion James has with aFrench man, who suggests that James simply approach Binoche from the side, andput his arm around her. Doing this action is of course nothing original, butwhen we see James do it

Can we really say we don’t feel it emotionally? Kiarostamimakes this moment a literal bridge as they pass by a tree. Where they were onceseparate, they are now together. Their emotions may not be authentic, but fromour perspective, they certainly are.

When James and Binoche first meet, the two seem likeamicable strangers. Why they are meeting, we don’t exactly know, but everythingseems perfectly fine. As they drive in the car and begin to talk, Kiarostamipulls this in all one straight single take. And then…

This precise cut shows the breaking of a boundary, not onlybetween James and Binoche, but us, the audience, and them. There’s also issomething curious about Bincohe’s performance here, a sudden desperation in hervoice, a worry not present before. We see the first crack in her armor, perhapsof a secret she’s not ready to reveal.

So what I’m suggesting in this theory is that the illusionof the copy is not what comes during the second half of the film, but whatcomes from the first half. What appears as illusion or just a game may actuallybe truth, and their pretend date is actually a copy of perhaps a date fifteenyears ago.

The crucial point comes right before the moment that changedthe narrative. James tells a story about seeing a son following 50 feet behindher mother. It doesn’t seem to have any particular relevance, but then Binochechanges the stakes through one line of dialogue.

To even many diligent viewers, this may seem like a oddstory for Binoche to tear up at, especially given that we, the audience, don’tnecessarily understand the circumstances of the situation. However, it was onmy third viewing that I noticed something that changed how I read this scene.It’s right after Binoche and her son leave the lecture to go get food…

The story that James tells could be coincide, or perhaps, acopy that Binoche responds to, but this seems to be too sensitive of a detail,too shocking of a memory to recall, to simply be a story.

And thus, it is this spark that allows the two to finallyadmit to their true selves, or some version of it. Consider how the film usesdifferent languages. Kiarostami is of course an Iranian director, and this ishis first narrative feature film outside his home country. As a Europeanproduction—financed mostly by France, shot in Italy, with a cast of oneEnglishman and one French national—Kiarostami uses different languagesthroughout the film to clue us in. For the first part of the film, James andBinoche only speak English to each other. Later, when talking to the owner ofcafé, Binoche remarks on his lingual abilities…

However, when the “game” begins, so to say, James decides toswitch his linguistic tendencies.

We could simply believe that James is playing along, makingstories as quickly as she is, and the two are working together to form afabricated history. But there’s one detail that proved for me this cannot bethe case. It deals with James’s facial hair, which comes up at the café.

And then again near the end of the film.

Kiarostami relays this important moment while striking anessential visual clue with his characters. As Binoche rests her head on James,we immediately hearken back to their previous discussion about a statue of aman protecting a woman, who laid her head on his shoulder just the same.

If they replicate this statue, do the feelings thustranslate between the original work of art and the humans imitating the pose? Because,of course, the artwork itself is an imitation of a gesture the artist of thesculpture must have seen. And thus, the dilemma continues…

To say Kiarostami made CertifiedCopy without an answer in mind is a little bit of a constructive lie. Ithink the director has built a film that allows us to believe whatever answerwe want. This deals with Kiarostami’s real theme of the film—the nature androle of perception.

This brings me to my third theory, which is something of astrange mixture between the two previous ones. If we begin to think aboutanswering the mystery, there are issues we can take with both theories.

Obviously, if James has lied about knowing French and canrecall specific details of their relationship, he is certainly no stranger.

However, if Binoche’s son has no idea who James is, when heshould clearly know his father as the story suggests, then the two can’t be themarried couple they pretend to be.

Plus, James argues with the role himself…

There is a third option, however—one bizarre but worthproposing. It returns us to the moment on the piazza that has inspired James’sbook.

James explicitly says that it was five years ago. If they’vebeen married for fifteen, why did this story take place five years ago?

References to five years ago keep coming up and up. My suggestion is this: James certainlyknows Binoche, not from their marriage, but being a close friend and perhapslover that she has hidden over the last five years. So, why the game?

The first part is to stay secret while in a town wheresomeone may recognize the two together, but I think Binoche is interested increating a copy. Binoche’s husband is obviously absent, not only physically,but also emotionally as well. The town she takes James to might be the one shewas married at, but she hopes to make a copy of her anniversary, using the manshe truly loves, James, instead of her husband.

This theory, tenuous at best, does seem to explain a lot ofissues. It proves why James is ambivalent about taking the picture with thecouple. Or why he can’t recall the hotel they stay at for their wedding night.

It also answers why he knows so many intimate details aboutthe relationship between Binoche and her husband. Perhaps he was a best man attheir wedding.

This theory, and all the theories really, get to the meaningof what Kiarostami really wants to talk about when discussing art: its reallyall about perception.

This is an issue that James and Binoche discuss at length.It comes up when Binoche takes James to a small museum that holds a copy of apainting that they continue to cherish as much as they did when they thought itwas an authentic original.

James and Binoche not only discuss this theory as related toart, but in personal and human connection.

Each person in CertifiedCopy is obsessed with perception. During the sequence in which Binochetries on the different earrings and makeup in the mirror, she is consideringthe perception of what James will think of her. She is still the same person,but the different lipsticks and earrings may change how he sees her.

Perception is also a theme that has appeared in many of theworks of Kiarostami. In Taste of Cherry,a man who plans on committing suicide, for no reason told to the audience,receives three different answers to why he, or any man, should live. In Close-Up, Kiarostami makes a fakedocumentary about a man who pretends to be a famous Iranian director. When heis asked in court whether he is acting because there are cameras there, the mantells us “I’m speaking of my suffering, that is not acting.” Perhaps, butthat’s only one perception.

And it is perception that will change how we look at Jamesand Binoche, and whether they’ve been married or not. This is what Certified Copy is truly about. It’s notwhat the art is, it’s how we, the audience, view it. Which is why Kiarostami’sfilm is so open to many different interpretation. However we want to view thefilm—based on our emotions, our intellect, our philosophy—will create adifferent picture for us.

In the final moments of CertifiedCopy, James finally looks at us in the camera. He stares into the mirrorthe same way Binoche has the entire film. What does he think? What do we think?When he leaves the frame, we see the church bells, but through the frame of thewindow. If we perceive it through the frame does that change our perception?Kiarostami’s beauty as a filmmaker is that he never gives complete answers—hehas been quoted as saying that he removes elements from his films, and it is upto the audience to finish the film for him. In this essay, I’ve tried tocomplete some of those gaps, but anyone can do so, and create a completelydifferent film. After all, it is how you perceive the object, not what theobject truly is.

My Oscar Ballot: 2012 Edition

2012-01-23T18:13:00.000-05:00

Certified Copy

While everyone gets hyped up abouttomorrow morning’s Academy Award nominations, I could probably be lessinterested this year. While Oscar pundits get excited over some of the middlingfilms that will populate the lists tomorrow, I’m hoping that some years downthe roads, the films that dominate my own top films list will become cherished classics.For fun, I’ve submitted my own ballot, following the style of the AcademyAwards (ten films ranked for Best Picture, five nominations for all othercategories). I’ve presented it without comment—again, go to my top 15 list forcommentary on most of these picks.

Best Picture

1. Certified Copy

2. Martha Marcy May Marlene

3. A Separation

4. Meek’s Cutoff

5. The Interrupters

6. Margaret

7. Mysteries of Lisbon

8. Take Shelter

9. Tuesday, After Christmas

10. The Tree of Life

Best Director

· Sean Durkin, MarthaMarcy May Marlene

· Asghar Farhadi, A Separation

· Abba Kiraostami, Certified Copy

· Kelly Reichardt, Meek’s Cutoff

· Raúl Ruiz, Mysteriesof Lisbon

Best Actor

· Woody Harrelson, Rampart

· Gary Oldman, TinkerTailor Soldier Spy

· Brad Pitt, Moneyball

· Peyman Moaadi, A Separation

· Michael Shannon, Take Shelter

Best Actress

· Juliette Binoche, Certified Copy

· Kirstin Dunst, Melancholia

· Elizabeth Olson, Martha Marcy May Marlene

· Anna Paquin, Margaret

· Kristin Wiig, Bridesmaids

Best Supporting Actor

Bruce Greenwood in Meek's Cutoff

· Jean-Pierre Darroussin, Le Havre

· Michael Fassbender, Jane Eyre

· Bruce Greenwood, Meek’s Cutoff

· John Hawkes, MarthaMarcy May Marlene

· Brad Pitt, TheTree of Life

Best SupportingActress

· Jeannie Berlin, Margaret

· Rose Byrne, Bridesmaids

· Jessica Chastain, Take Shelter

· Allison Janey, Margaret

· Shailene Woodley, The Descendants

Best OriginalScreenplay

· Asghar Farhadi, A Separation

· Abbas Kiraostami, Certified Copy

· Kenneth Lonergan, Margaret

· Jeff Nichols, Take Shelter

· Apichatpong Weerasethakul, Uncle Boonmee Who Can Recall His Past Lives

Best AdaptedScreenplay

· John Logan, Coriolanus

· Alexander Payne, Nat Faxon, and Jim Rash, The Descendants

· Carlos Saboga, Mysteries of Lisbon

· Lynne Ramsey, We Need To Talk About Kevin

· Steve Zallian and Aaron Sorkin, Moneyball

The Tree of Life

Best Cinematography

· Bobby Bukowski, Rampart

· Jody Lee Lips, Martha Marcy May Marlene

· Emmanuel Lubezki, The Tree of Life

· Seamus McGarvey, We Need To Talk About Kevin

· Adam Stone, TakeShelter

Best Editing

· Steve James and Aaron Wickenden, The Interrupters

· Bahman Kiraostami, Certified Copy

· Kelly Reichardt, Meek’s Cutoff

· Hayedeh Safiyari, A Separation

· Zachary Stuart-Pontier, Martha Marcy May Marlene

Best Art Direction

· Isabel Branco, Mysteries of Lisbon

· Giancarlo Basili and Ludovica Ferrario, Certified Copy

· Maria Djurkovic, Tom Brown, and ZsuzsaKismarty-Lechner, Tinker Tailor SoldierSpy

· David Dorenberg and Kat Uhlmansiek, Meek’s Cutoff

· Jette Lehmann and Simone Grau, Melancholia

Best Score

· Ludovic Bource, The Artist

· Cliff Martinez, Drive

· Nico Muhly, Margaret

· Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross, The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo

· David Wingo, TakeShelter

Best Sound

· Drive

· The GirlWith the Dragon Tattoo

· Margaret

· MarthaMarcy May Marlene

· Meek’sCutoff

Melancholia

Best Visual Effects

· Rise ofthe Planet of the Apes

· Melancholia

· Mission:Impossible – Ghost Protocol

· TakeShelter

· The Treeof Life

Best Foreign Film Notin the English Language

· ASeparation (Iran)

· Tuesday,After Christmas (Romania)

· Mysteriesof Lisbon (France/Portugal)

· Le Havre (Finland/France)

· Uncle BoonmeeWho Can Recall His Past Lives (Thailand)

Best Documentary

· The Arbor(Clio Barnard)

· TheInterrupters (Steve James)

· Pina (WimWenders)

· ProjectNim (James Marsh)

· Senna(Asif Kapida)

Haywire: An Ass-Kicker Supreme

2012-01-22T17:07:00.001-05:00

Haywire

Directed By:Steven Soderbergh

Written By: LemDobbs

Starring: GinaCarano, Michael Fassbender, Ewan McGregor, Bill Paxton, Michael Douglas,Antonio Banderas, Michael Angarano, and Channing Tatum

Director of Photography: Peter Andrews (Soderbergh), Editor:Steven Soderbergh, Production Designer: Howard Cummings, Original Music: DavidHolmes

Rated: R forass-kicking, head-smashing violence.

Thepleasures in Haywire, of which arethere many, derive not from the dramatic reveals or explosions or kinetic,impossible to follow, action sequences that populate most films that followspies and the work they do. Instead, the film gives us details throughcinematic delights: a tilted shot in a red-drenched palette, an abstract jazzyscore, and the sound of a gunshot runging out with booming thunder. This isafter all Steven Soderbergh, a director who despite being in the business forover twenty years, has continued to remain experimental and metatextual witheach film, even when approaching genre exercises (most recently the virusthriller Contaigon, which evolvedinto a political statement on the age of Tea Party politics).

Onecould argue Haywire is the closestthing he’s done to a commercial film since his Ocean’s trilogy. However, Soderbergh plays against usual genre standardsso often that the film often feels much like Godard and Truffaut making a CIAblack ops ass kicking thriller than the next film from Michael Bay. Style is the substance of Haywire, which uses a somewhat paint-by-the-numbers script by LemDobbs (who also wrote The Limey forMr. Soderbergh) as a starting point to give the almost deadening genre a newclassic, and led by the commanding performance of Gina Carano.

Carano’sname might seem a bit unfamiliar to action geeks, as this is her first film,and she’s surrounded by some of Hollywood’s biggest male superstars. ButSoderbergh, always a fan of casting based on meta-narrative elements (see:Julia Roberts in Erin Brokavich,Sasha Grey in The Girlfriend Experience),chose Carano for her fame as one of the best female Mixed Martial Arts (MMA)fighters in the world. Like Grey’s Chelsea in The Girlfriend Experience, Carano’s Mallory is a stone-faced andemotionless protagonist, except her job is to smash people to a pulp for money.When we first see her in the film’s opening shot, her eyes beat with intensityand fury. But when she sits down in a small coffee shop for a rendezvous, sheslowly masks her feelings and plays casual, almost sexy. That is until Aaron(Channing Tatum) shows up, and the two smash each other around in all sorts ofacrobatics.

Thefilm, in classic Soderbergh fashion, moves back and forth in time, catching usup on the history between Mallory and her contractor, Kenneth (a slimy EwanMcGregor), a job gone right (or possibly wrong) in Barcelona, an assignment toplay eye candy with Michael Fassbender (who of course may upstage Carano inthat department), and a betrayal. Haywire’snarrative may follow a somewhat over logical thread line, but Soderbergh findsinterest in causation. When a set up for a job shows a post-it note labeled“Bay Guy #1,” clearly the director understands that we have less interest inwhat is happening than how it happens and in what order. When Mallory makes a youngboy (a surrogate for the audience during the first half, played by Michael Angarano) repeat names andlocations to her might seem like an awkward framing device, but clearlySoderbergh is calling attention to our own thought process; we can’t rememberthe names either, and perhaps it doesn’t matter.

Pulsatingby David Holmes’ jazzy score, Soderbergh constantly plays with our genrethrills. He gives us silence when we expect intensity. He strips the frame ofcolor, or over-saturates it to a number of visual hues, to give worlds andlocations a unique feeling. He gives us the sounds of fists smashing againsttorsos that feel authentic instead of calculated. And most fun of all, he givesus the prettiest boys in Hollywood, all bloodied and beaten to a pulp by awoman. Carano worked with the stunt group to choreograph the fight sequences,and all the actors did their own stunts. Soderbergh gives each fight scene itsown unique, visual quality—A final set piece, set on a sun-bathed beach inMexico, makes the actors feel more like gorgeous dancers, their shadows flyingacross the sand and becoming part of the landscape as the sun sets below.

Like the works of JeanPierre-Melville, especially Bob Le Flambeur,Haywire can only end one way and oneway only, and Soderbergh treats this flippantly as the inevitable instead ofthe resolution. He’s found a total muse in Carano—she speaks in a low anddirect voice, and uses the twitches of her nose and the style of her hair togive her character nuance. Mostly though, she uses her magnetism; she has apresence, whether while remaining calm and direct during a cat and mousetailing, or while smashing bad guys to a pulp, that few actors—male orfemale—could ever pull off. Soderbergh makes Mallory equally calculated and brilliant. During a chase sequence top of the roofs of Dublin, Mallory keeps running into dead ends, looking down before she leaps, and as limited in her view as the audience.

By pulling in the mainstream genretwists into his unique style, Haywiremanages to be both his most accessible hit and experimental work simultaneously.That jazz score is not just an audio motif to give the feeling of cool (thoughthat pulsates throughout); it’s a sign that Soderbergh himself is an abstractjazz artist. He’s taking the familiar and improvising, plucking strings in adifferent order that makes us experience action in ways most artists wouldn’tdare.

Miss Bala: A Pretty Face Joins An Ugly War

2012-01-20T11:13:00.000-05:00

Miss Bala

Directed By: GerardoNaranjo

Written By: GerardoNaranjo and Mauricio Katz

Starring: Stephanie Sigman and Noe Hernandez

Director of Photography: Matyas Erdely, Editor: GerardoNaranjo, Art Direction: Ivonne Fuentes, Original Music: Emilio Kauderer

Rated: R forbloody, truthful violence.

There’s a strong dynamic betweentwo very different worlds at the heart of MissBala, a Mexican crime saga from director Gerardo Naranjo. Laura, a youngwoman who has been forced to help a powerful drug lord, watches as a DEA agentis run over, dragged through the street, and hung over a highway, his corpsebloodied and barely hanging together. The drug lords then take her to a fixedbeauty pageant, where the bright lights practically blind her, the atmosphereof the event promoting youth, beauty, and love.

This clash of universes, and thefallacy between them, centers the powerfully shot but somewhat hollow drama,which made a splash on the festival circuit last year.Naranjo made someheadlines in 2008 with I’m Gonna Explode,a unique exploration of youth and class with the powerful energy adapted fromGodard’s Pierret Le Fou (fulldisclosure; I worked on the subtitles for I’mGonna Explode while interning for IFC Films). Here, Naranjo is in somewhatstripping down the crime thriller to its essentials—the Italian mafia film Gomorrah might be this film’s distantcousin—though it indulges with its cinematic excess. The outcome is a somewhatmixed result that may interest audiences with its bizarre but true story of abeauty queen involved in the drug war, but rarely finds a way to outlive itsgenre ties and speak candidly about the issues it raises.

Problemsbegin to arise from the beginning as soon as we meet Laura, played by thebeautiful Stephanie Sigman. Living in Baja California with her father andbrother, Laura has dreams of becoming a beauty queen. But following a friend toa rather sketchy club one night, she becomes witness to a shooting massacre.Looking for her friend, Laura instead finds herself a pawn in the schemes of apowerful cartel, and the object of desire for its powerful leader (NoeHernandez).

Naranjo plays fast and loose withLaura and our access to her desires. Is she trying to escape? Does shecomplicity go along? The script provides Laura with a number of “outs” so tosay, which she ends up refusing, or only mildly trying at. While some othercritics find this conflict fascinating, for me, it kept me at arm’s length toaccessing and sympathizing with her. Despite Ms. Sigman’s attempts to create athree dimensional character, I found it hard to understand the motivation ofLaura, as she loses her authority as a protagonist.

This is of course very deliberateby Naranjo, but I think part of the issue is that the director seems moreinvolved in his cinematic flair than his characters. Adapting loosely from Americanmasters like De Palma, Socrsese, and Michael Mann, Naranjo uses a series ofbreathtaking cinematic long takes to create a sense of extreme reality. Oftenshooting his protagonist from behind her back, the camera glides along in anunflinching matter, and one particular long shot during a cartel battle withpolice is bravura filmmaking.

During a press conference followingthe film’s premiere at the New York Film Festival. Naranjo explained that hewanted to make a film that showed the drug war in a unique light, and perhapsthe films and telenovelas thatpopulate the cinemas and televisions of Mexico avoid the hard hitting violencehe seems intent on showing. But Miss Balanever really explains the issues at the heart of the drug war; it seemsperfectly content on its limited perspective of Laura, who is a victim of thewar, but provides no perspective into what we really need to understand.

One might suggest Traffic as a filmthat gives a larger scope of the very difficult drug war (as well as a numberof cinematic flourishes), but Miss Balaat least begins the conversation of filmmakers from Mexico exploring theextreme circumstances to the world. Naranjo is a filmmaker with an eye for visual flair and detail, and hiscold approach to the subject seems ripe for a complex understanding of how thedrug war has destroyed millions of lives in Mexico. So perhaps by followingLaura, a surrogate for all victims, is the best way to see the unflinchingviolence. And without any solutions offered, the pains of Miss Bala are a cry for help.

Coriolanus: Call of Duty - Shakesperean Warfare

2012-01-20T11:07:00.000-05:00

Coriolanus

Directed By:Ralph Fiennes

Written By: JohnLogan, based on the play by William Shakespeare

Starring: RalphFiennes, Gerard Butler, Brian Cox, Jessica Chastain, Vanessa Redgrave, JamesNesbitt, Dragan Micanovic, Lubna Azabal, and Ashraf Barhorm

Director of Photography: Barry Ackroyd, Editor: NicolasGaster, Production Designer: Ricky Eyres, Original Music: Ilan Eshkeri

Rated: R for somemilitary violence.

Modern day Shakespeare adaptationsare a tricky business. Sometimes, they come in the form of teen comedies thatforgo the language in order to bring in a bigger (and often more pedestrian)audience (She’s The Man; 10 Things I Hate About You). Otherwise, thecoursing of the language against a modern day setting often feels like an awkwardclash of sound and image. Where is Kenneth Branagh when you need him?

But here comes the deft directorial debut of actor Ralph Fiennes in the form ofthe often forgotten but masterful Coriolanus,an extremely bold adaptation of the Shakespeare military history. Having seen amagnificent production of the play a couple years back, I’m always surprisedthat Coriolanus never gets as muchlove as it should. It’s a deeply cynical play with a number of strong complexissues about how our military and political leaders often use and abuse theirpower. Using a modern day setting but keeping certain details faithful to theplay, Fiennes and screenwriter John Logan have masterfully brought together thepolitical aspects of the Shakespeare’s play to a relevant audience in today’sage of inequality.

For those whohaven’t read or seen the play, Coriolanuswill be a treat, as it packs a dense and wallop of a story. The film is set inRome, a one closer to a modern city than the one of ancient times, and war isfought with assault rifles instead of swords. Fiennes plays the titlecharacter, Caius Martius (Coriolanus is a title he is given after a crucialbattle), a bold and brutal general of Rome with little care for the people andplenty of lust for the battlefield. When the people protest against a lack offood, Caius stares them down and Fiennes delivers a cold speech with the samebrutal eyes he brought to Lord Voldemort in the Harry Potter series. Caius lives for war, most notably fightingagainst the state of Antium and his bitter rival, Tullus Aufidius (GerardButler).

But Caius can’t stand the political field, especially considering the pleadingof his good friend Menenius (Brian Cox) and his mother Volumnia (a commandingVanessa Redgrave) to become a leader of the people. When Coriolanus is pushedto become join the counsel, he does so begrudgingly. When he must followtradition and asks the people to accept his rule, he bitterly mocks such atradition and refuses to show them his scars. But two Roman senators (JamesNesbitt and Dragan Micanovic, chewing scenery in the best way), aim to have thepeople rise up against the general, using his grabbing of power as a sign ofrising totalitarianism.

Despite being 400 years old, I won’t spoil the twists of Coriolanus’s narrative, but the film turns our ideas of howpolitical campaigns and military campaigns can crumble and change so quickly. It’scertainly one of Shakespeare’s more cynical plays, and Logan keeps most of thedrama intact without having to sacrificing any major details. The one part thatdoesn’t necessarily work is the film’s midway twist when the senators turn thepeople, which feels just a bit too quick and easy. Part of this is the modernsetting, which strips the artifice from the drama that made the turn morebelievable, though part is certainly Shakespeare’s distrust and mocking ofcommon citizens.

The modern Roman setting works particularly well in bringing the film’stimeless politics to fit today’s era of worldwide protests, whether in theMiddle East, Europe, or right here in downtown Manhattan. Shot by The Hurt Locker cinematographer BarryAckroyd, the film’s war sequences are intense and chaotic, while the languageis aptly carried by the film’s excellent cast (though watching the CNN newscasts with Shakespearean language borders on parody). Fiennes not only brings abold and bitter strength to the unique protagonist of the drama, but his inadept enough to let the subtleties of Shakespeare’s language tell the story,his visuals more noted for the below-the-line technical works on display. Therevelation, not surprisingly, is Vanessa Redgrave, who knows how to commandeach word that drops from her tongue, bulging her eyes and perfectly capturingthe nuances of Volumna’s famous monologue near the end of the film.

Coriolanus may not be the greatestShakespeare on film, but because the play is not as well known, it’s a must seebecause it brings to life one of his most underrated. Fiennes played the roleon the West End back in 2001, and since then, our political and militarylandscapes have only become more and more entrenched together, our people lesstrustful of government, but more susceptible to easy forms of protest that theydon’t understand. In an age of both Tea Parties and Occupy movements, Coriolanus shows us perhaps how littlepower the people may truly have.

Nuri Bilge Ceylan on "Anatolia:" Filmmaker's Parable of Life

2012-01-04T19:37:00.000-05:00

A staple on the art house andfestival scene, the Turkish filmmaker Nuri Bilge Ceylan has become aninternational sensation since the release of his 2006 film, Climates. His latest work, Once Upon a Time in Anatolia (reviewed here), follows a group of policemen in a cold and distant land as they searchfor the body of a dead man, of which the two criminals cannot remember where hehas been buried. Less procedural than meandering and existential, and certainlyin no rush to subscribe to anything resembling a classical narrative structure,Once Upon a Time in Anatolia won theGrand Prix and has been chosen as the official submission by Turkey for theForeign Language Film Oscar. When the film premiered at the New York FilmFestival in October, Mr. Ceylan spoke about some of theinfluences and choices he makes in this philosophical epic. (One note: Mr.Ceylan spoke in English, and some of his sentences did not make complete sense.I eliminated some of his answers, and tried my best to interpret some of hiswords to the best of my understanding. I apologize for any inaccuracy).

On the genesis of thefilm

Actually, everything started from a real story. One of the scriptwritersfollowed this story in Anatolia in the 80s, when he was doing his socialservice, right in the same place; in this town. They searched for the body tillthe morning, and that interested me a lot. We decided we could make a film outof it. Of course, we changed a lot. We just kept the [premise] of the story.All the characters are created [by us].

The film’s titlesuggests a fairy tale like narrative…

I actually wanted it to be as realistic as possible, and ashistoric to today. But we wanted to make the present as the past of the picture.In this way, we tried to create a kind of pointless feeling.

The influence ofChekov

He’s one of my favorite writers. Actually, he’s influencedall of my films in a way. As written in the final credits, he also had somequotations. I think he also influenced the tone of this film, though we didn’trealize it. Chekov is the kind of writers who wrote almost illustrations and allkinds of characters, so when you start to write a script, and you’ve read allof Chekov’s stories like me, you will end up having his point of view. You useit somehow.

The idea and executionof the apple rolling down the hilm

It was not in the script. When I was in location, there weretwo days where we couldn’t shoot because there some actors who were Syrians,and had to go to Syria for two days. So I went to the location and walkedalone, and thought about what else I could make. And I saw this apple tree. AndI saw an apple falling down, and I followed it. It was just like [in the film].And it seemed like a metaphor of a whole life. So I wanted to share the fate ofthe apple. The execution was quite difficult, actually. We had to [use someeffects]. I placed all the broken apples myself.

On pairing down thefilm’s large backstories

One of the things was to create a small story with all thecharacters. We used everything we had to bring that together. Chekov helped,observations, memories. Everything I should bring together. Of course, that’sone of the most difficult things to bring together, and then you make the filmand write the story.

On the humor of thepolice being satire or social commentary

They are not like that, because they have police. I seeeverything like that. If you love police, it’s a coincidence. I tend to see thehumorous side in most situations.

Deciding the finalshot of the film

[I decided] at the end of editing, of course! When I finishediting. I changed it many times. I shoot a lot of material, and sometimes, Ichanged. But this film, I [in the end] went with the ending I had in thescript.

Once Upon a Time in Anatolia: Long Turkish Journey Into the Night

2012-01-04T19:26:00.000-05:00

Once Upon a Time inAnatolia

Directed By: NuriBilge Ceylan

Written By: EbruCeylan, Nuri Bilge Ceylan, and Ercan Kesal

Starring:Muhammet Uzuner, Yilmaz Erdogan, Taner Birsel, Firat Taris, and Ahmet MumtazTaylan

Director of Photography: Gokham Tiryaki, Editors: BoraGoksingol and Nuri Bilge Ceylan, Art Director: Dilek Yapkuoz Ayaztuna

Rated: Unrated,but only appropriate for audiences with open minds and strong bladders.

As the title might suggest,landscape may be the most crucial character in the dark and elliptical OnceUpon a Time in Anatolia. As the men we follow trek the terrain through thenight, the clear plains and trees seem to carry on into the distance withoutend. These men are lost in a world where not much exists beyond the hills andthe slowly fading sun. Like the opening shots of Abbas Kiaraostami’s TheWind Will Carry Us, they are dwarfed among the plains in their small cars,which become their only source of light as their search continues into the utterdarkness.

Once Upon a Time in Anatolia is the latest work from Turkish directorNuri Bile Ceylan, best known for his 2006 film Climates. Mr. Ceylan’slatest feature is both an epic as well as an intimate and minimalistportrayal of daily life. Shot gorgeously along the Anatolian plains, thisoccasionally frustrating work attempts to explore a lot of different themes andideas, as well as characters, but through a small prism of access in which weour limited by a type of realism in which narrative turns are small and unique.But as it slowly treks toward some sort of conclusion, this police proceduralis an assuredly bold attempt to explore a number of notions about the existenceof human life, even if Mr. Ceylan is not sure what exactly he is exploring.

The director certainly attempts tocram much into this bizarre story of life, the universe, everything as it mightseem. It starts out strongly, as we watch three cars come along a fountain atsunset. The men step outside and begin a search for a body. The police chief(Yilmaz Erdogan) demands answers from a murderer (Fırat Tanış), who can’texactly remember where the body is buried. Perhaps it was less hilly. It mayhave been near a round tree. He was a bit drunk. The men continue their calmand slow search, often bantering between each other about what starts off assmall talk, discussions of yogurt and family. But our own attachment to thisstory comes in the form of a doctor (Muhammet Uzuner) and a prosecutor (TanerBirsel) and their relationship. Neither have a purpose on this journey untilthe body is found, and the two begin waxing philosophically about life,including a discussion about a friend’s wife who announced she would die inexactly five months and then preceded to do so.

Mr. Ceylan’s tonal perspective is somewhat difficult to describe. It’s hardlyan observation of the mundane in the way a film like Police, Adjectivedraws us into its absurdity, but he never seems interested in the case at hand.The reasons for the murder are only hinted at, and the character of the victimis thinly sketched. Instead, Once Upon a Time in Anatolia seems to tryto conjure up some sense of a search for spirituality or at least meaning inlife (only the police chief becomes frustrated by the ridiculous search and itslength). Mr. Ceylan, working with director of photography Gökhan Tiryaki,reflects this search through the beautiful use of light in this first half. Theheadlights of the car, always being readjusted to shoot along the land, have anaural quality similar to the candlelight we come along later. Putting ourcharacters into silhouettes, they become almost archetypes (or as one characterjokes to the prosecutor, Clarke Gable).

As Once Upon a Time in Anatolia proceeds through its narrative, it seemsto want to capture a little of everything, and perhaps too much. A woman servestea to the police in the middle of the night, and each man is struck by herbeauty in what seems like a desolate land. An apple rolls down a hill andthrough a river, and we track its progress (a shot that seems to reference ashot of a can rolling in Close-Up,another film by Mr. Kiarostami). One man can’t stop grabbing fresh melons fromthe countryside. There are a lot of moments that seem to grasp toward somegreater truth in Mr. Ceylan’s world, especially as the film’s final act finallydeals some cards in terms of its narrative reveals, seemingly reaching forpatho. But what this truth is seems to be notably inescapable—Mr. Ceylanproposes much in his film without any desire to answer it, so much that Once Upon a Time in Anatolia feels likeless of an enrapturing journey than an amalgamation of moments strung together.

Part of this is of course by design by Mr. Ceylan, who based the eventpartially on a true story he heard. Despite its fairy tale title, Once Upona Time in Anatolia suggests a slice of life that is absurdly cryptic bydesign, and to say that the film should make complete sense is to suggest lifeitself must to. It’s a film about humanity that is unsure about what such anotion holds as any philosopher would suggest.

This Is The End: The Best Films of 2011

2012-01-02T13:14:00.000-05:00

Inprobably the pitch-perfect cinematic moment of the 2011, Curtis, the tall andconstantly in-check protagonist of TakeShelter, watches lighting dance across the sky while his wife and daughtersleep in the back of the car. “Is anyone else seeing this?” he exclaims. Ifthis is the end, we need to know we’re not the only ones out there realizingthe world is about the change.

Whichis perhaps what all these apocalyptic films—Margin Call (fiscal), Contagion (viral),Rise of the Planet of the Apes (special),and Melancholia (literal)—are allabout. Even if we’re prepared to face the end, we can’t do it alone. We need tobe sure of who we are and understand ourselves, which is why so many films notspecifically about the end are about the minor apocalypses within our lives.The strange protagonist of Pedro Almodovar’s The Skin I Live In must come to terms with a completely newidentity. Werner Herzog explored both the birth of spiritual life (Cave of Forgotten Dreams) and the end ofan actual life (Into the Abyss). Attack the Block gave us teenagers whomust redeem themselves and their way of life by defeating forces greater thanour world. And so many films exploredthe state of the family and the trials and often failure resulting in those whocannot manage it: A Separation, The Descendants, Take Shelter, Margaret.Apocalypse isn’t about the end of the world, as the idiotic villain (MichaelNyqvist) from Mission Impossible — GhostProtocol lectures. It’s about what comes after, which is why so many filmshave focused on our uncertainty to face something new.

Itwas also a ridiculously excellent year for film, easily the best since Istarted writing in 2004. Perhaps not in the Hollywood sphere, where mainstreamcinema continues to lead down a series of franchise reboots and post-3Dconversions, as much as in the independent and world cinema. This year wassimply impossible to narrow down to the best films of the year, and decidingwhere to stop (20? 25? 40?) made the usual business of top 10s even harder. Idecided on 15 films, and any of the top six or seven would have probably beenmy #1 film last year, showing the quality of excellent cinema today, as long asyou know where to find it.

Sofor honorable mentions, any of these could have made the top 15 on a differentday: The Arbor, Bridesmaids, City of Life and Death, Contagion, Coriolanus, Film Socialisme, The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, Hugo, The Ides of March, Jane Eyre, J. Edgar, Of Gods and Men, Melancholia, Mission: Impossible — Ghost Protocol, Moneyball,Pina, Project Nim, The Skin I Live In, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy,and War Horse.

15. The Descendants(Alexander Payne, USA)

Thestory in The Descendants is aboutsome truly ugly people: a financially well father who has never bothered totake care of his children, a cheating wife trapped in a coma, cousins sellingoff inherited land to make a fortune, and an asshole adulterer who refuses toface what he’s done. But as a director who has matured from a satirical andbiting comedian to something more understanding and human, director andco-writer Alexander Payne has made a film that asks us questions about bothwhat we can forgive and how. Mr. Payne, adapting the novel by Kaui HartHemmings with Nat Faxon and Jim Rash, uses the location of Hawaii, plus thenatural beauty of his actors (most notably George Clooney), to give The Descendants a soothing sense to calmthe troubled mental state of this family in crisis. This natural beauty (alwayscautioned though by the overhanging clouds of melancholy that hang over theislands) allow protagonist Matt King and his daughter Alex (newcomer ShaileneWoodley, who can seem extremely mature and naively innocent within a singleline of dialogue) to make sacrifices and find some sense of companionship ineach other that they’ve never felt before.

Read the original review. The Descendants is nowcurrently playing in theaters.

14. Le Havre (AkiKaurismäki, Finland/France)

Ina year where waves of films dealt with nostalgia for classic cinema (Hugo, The Artist, The Muppets,and even Drive), none put a largersmile on my face than the classic and humorous beauty Le Havre. Finnish director Aki Kaurismäki has created a narrativesurrounding the old, titular town that often feels like a place time hasforgotten, but in the best way possible. The dry colors of simplistic homes andbars, and the charm of its French citizens create a magical world that has nobusiness in reality, but feels so honest with goodness that it tore my heartapart. The narrative may deal with a huge issue surrounding illegal immigrationin the European state, but Mr. Kaurismäki has no interest in politics as muchas he has in humanity. He looks at these characters and asks, “Why can’t theyall get along, and do nice things for each other?” It seems like a bizarrequestion, but with a cartoonish feel (especially the film’s villainousdetective played by the marvelous Jean-Pierre Darroussin), Mr. Kaurismäkiimagines a world where people simply do the right thing and try and create anenvironment where anyone can be family.

Read the original review. Le Havre is currently inselect theaters, and will be on DVD later this year.

13. Rampart (OrenMoverman, USA)

“DateRape” Dave is a brutal and destructive human being, unleashed on the world withwhat seems like only hate in his heart and anger as his fuel. Worst of all,he’s supposed to serve and protect. Rampart,Oren Moverman’s second feature and co-written by noir writer James Ellory, isan intense odyssey into the darkness of one man’s soul. It’s an intensecharacter study following an officer of the law who has never let anyauthoritative voice ever stop his sound and fury, mainly because he is thevoice of authority. Intensely shot by Bobby Bukowski in stunning digitalcrispness, Rampart is as visuallyintense as Dave himself, which allows us to hate him while constantly find ourselves in awe of him. Mostof that comes from the commanding performance of Woody Harrelson, who has noproblem playing a monster of society to its very fullest. What makes Rampart so unique is there’s noredemption for Dave; he and whatever informed his past are the sources of evilin society. But what makes him so scary is there’s no way he and his kind willever disappear.

Read the original review. Rampart played for a shortrun in New York, and will re-open in theaters sometime this winter.

12. We Need To TalkAbout Kevin (Lynne Ramsey, United Kingdom)

Theshattered mind can be a beautiful thing, especially when portrayed by filmmakerLynne Ramsey in We Need to Talk AboutKevin. Kevin is a monster of a person, and its unclear whether it isbecause of his inherent nature or the way he was raised. But the answer issimply impossible, as Ms. Ramsey has taken the novel by Lionel Shriver andturned it into a pop art explosion. Set in a highly subjective universe of themind of Eva (Tilda Swinton, terrific as always and with a face out of aRembrandt painting), Ms. Ramsey gives us a series of memories and images, manyabstract and without any particular context. There’s no way to comprehend thestructure of the film—it’s more reminiscent of Jackson Pollock than any otherfilms. But within its moments, Ms. Ramsey finds wry and sadistic humor,beautiful imagery (that of course is hiding malicious evil), and the voice of amother lost to her own demons, unable to comprehend past, present, and future.Kevin tells Eva late in the film, “I used to know why, but now I’m not sosure.” Similarly, Ms. Ramsey invites us to become lost as well, washed over bythe monsters of our own world.

Read the original review. We Need To Talk About Kevinplayed for a short run in New York, and will re-open in theaters this January.

11. Uncle Boonmee WhoCan Recall His Past Lives

(Apichatpong Weerasethakul, Thailand)

It’sthe end of the line for dear Uncle Boonmee, but in his exploration of faith,death is truly just the beginning. Thai director Apitchatpong Weerasethakulretains his identity as one of the most unique artists working today, mixinghis understanding of Thai culture with a unique art house aesthetic and aself-aware humor. Uncle Boonmee Who CanRecall His Past Lives may be bizarre (any film that includes monkey ghostsand a coital sequence between a princess and a catfish certainly qualifies),but Mr. Weeasethakul has such a strong conviction in his characters and thestory he wants to tell, that you always feel less sad about the death of oneman, than invited into the world that awaits him after this one. It may notmake complete sense, but Mr. Weeasethakul brings a wondrous beauty to thewonders of nature and animals, and constantly plays with his style offilmmaking as well, constantly reinventing his images and his narratives tocreate new meaning. “Heaven is overrated,” Boonmee’s dead wife tells him, andthe use of deadpan humor in Uncle Boomeeis part of what makes the fear of death so inconsequential, and the invitationto the after life so exciting.

Read the original review. Read an interview with writer-director Apitchatpong Weerasethakul. UncleBoonmee is now currently on DVD andNetflix Instant.

10. The Tree of Life(Terrence Malick, USA)

TerrenceMalick’s grand-scale and operatic TheTree of Life sets itself out on the biggest question it possibly can: thesearch for God and meaning in any and all exsistence. But the way the eclecticMr. Malick has gone in answering that question is what makes him a continuallyfascinating filmmaker. God may be in the origins of the universe, the formationof planets and first life. Or perhaps it’s in the origins of kindness shown bya mother to her children. Perhaps it is in a ray of light, just hitting thewaters of a river in a particular way. Or in the stern attitude of the father,teaching both strength but often fear to his son. There is no answer and everyanswer in Mr. Malick’s filmmaking, making TheTree of Life a work of huge detail and also incompleteness. Even despiteits flaws, the filmmaking by Mr. Malick and director of photography Emmanuel Lubezkifeels so monumental and simply on a different level than what anyone else is doingin contemporary cinema today. There’s no story, simply images and feelings andsymphonies and poetic dialogue, all to bring you through one man’s search foranswers of what is all means, whether cosmological or personal.

Read the original review. Read a piece on the critical response to the film. The Tree of Life is now onDVD and Blu-Ray.

9. Tuesday, AfterChristmas (Radu Muntean, Romania)

PaulHanganu thinks he can control every aspect of his life, but he is sorely wrong.He loves two women, and thinks he can easily balance having a wife and a mistresswithout complication. And then he believes a divorce can be a simple andpainless process. But Adriana and Raluca are not simply pieces to becontrolled, and they will give him hell for it. Radu Muntean, the latestdirector to emerge as part of a generation of geniuses in the Romanian art filmscene, has made a brilliant work in Tuesday,After Christmas that is firstly a human drama, but often a very, very slycomedy. The humor Mr. Muntean shows is more hidden than overt, but there issomething inherently funny about Paul’s actions in this story. His belief inbeing able to keep everyone in his life in order of course leads to chaos, evenas the camera stays with slow long takes that allow us to feel each beat, asthe tension rises (and what could be more tense than a foot massage?). Whetheror not Tuesday, After Christmas wasmade as an allegory for Romania’s state of repression is hard to say, but it’sa delightful small film about the collapse of a marriage, seen through the eyesof a very silly man.

Read the original review. Tuesday, After Christmas isnow on DVD and Netflix Instant,

8. Take Shelter (JeffNichols, USA)

Theworries in Take Shelter are not justthe biblical images of the end that haunt poor Curtis. They are the ones thatAmericans face every day: will our health insurance cover this operation? Do wehave enough money to make it to next month? Can I really afford to see a doctorright now? In crafting this masterwork of the American zeitgeist,writer-director Jeff Nichols has made a film that resonates through every inchof middle America, a film about a man who questions himself in every way,fearing for both the end of the world, the end of his family, and the end ofhis masculinity. Through the film’s bold language (a visual style reminiscentof Days of Heaven), Mr. Nichols keepsus on the edge of our seats as we watch Curtis slowly fall into madness, evenwhen he tries to take every precaution to stop it. And lead by a towering andsubdued performance by Michael Shannon, we come to believe and hope for Curtisto get better, just as much as his wife (Jessica Chastain in the best of hersix roles this year). While the final moments may not work completely, Take Shelter is such a unique look atnot the end of the world, but how afraid we are that the end could come andtake what is dear to us, whether that’s looming storms of dread or simply apink slip.

Read the original review. Take Shelter will be on DVDin the spring.

7. Mysteries ofLisbon (Raúl Ruiz, France/Portugal)

Thereare 100 stories in Raúl Ruiz’s Mysteriesof Lisbon, and it often feels like there could be 100 more. Everyone musttell a story, and everyone has a revelation about how the actions of their pasthave created their present, and how small gestures in one story can become theessential turn in another. A Chilean born director, Mr. Ruiz made over 100films in less than half that many years, and he sadly passed away this year,making this his truly final film (another was shot, though how much work wasleft on it has not been stated). But Mysteriesof Lisbon, adapted from the 19^th century epic by Camilo CasteloBranco, is such a delightful journey (and a long one, running over four and ahalf hours) into the world of the Portuguese and French aristocracy and the secretsthey hide. His camera work makes things even more magical than the revelationsof his narrative, shooting every scene in a single long take, gliding hiscamera along like a ghost wanderer. This magical realism of Mr. Ruiz makeseverything so enthralling and full of surprises, whether cinematic or what thenext story could possibly reveal.

Read the original review. Mysteries of Lisbon will bereleased on DVD and Blu-Ray this month.

6. Margaret (KennethLonergan, USA)

IfTerrence Malick’s The Tree Of Liferesolved that we are just specs within the grand scheme of the machinations ofthe universe, the world of Kenneth Lonergan’s Margaret asks well why shouldn’t we consider ourselves the centerof the universe. That certainly makes sense for Lisa, the young protagonistplayed by an impeccably perfect Anna Paquin, a teenager from the Upper WestSide of Manhattan who becomes a witness to the death of a woman in a bus crash.Written and shot during the years after September 11^th and the earlystages of the Iraq war, Margaret is awildly diverse film about how guilt can haunt us long after an event,exasperated by the need for closure and resolution, or simply some sort ofanswer that will never come. Lisa goes on a quest to try and make sense of thesenseless, something that Emily (the enormously terrific Jeannie Berlin) knowscannot happen. Because of its legal issues, Margaretfeels imperfect, and its last half hour feels like only the iceberg of a muchbigger film. But the ambition and perfection of so many sequences—a busaccident that is not only horrifying to watch but also darkly funny, aconversation with a lawyer who simply cannot understand the story, and Lisa’snumerous debates with friends, students, and family—makes Margaret, a film that was almost lost and buried, a hidden gem.

Read the original review. Read my piece addressing the phenomenon of #teammargaret. Margaret is currently playing in New York, but notfor much longer. There are no current plans for a DVD release, but hopefully,it shall come.

5. The Interrupters(Steve James, USA)

AmeenaMathews is a short woman, round but not overweight, with longing eyes, a blackhijab covering her hair, and a heart bigger than any fictional character onscreen this year. Ameena does one thing and one thing only: stop the kids ofChicago from murdering each other. In a world where we speak about Occupy WallStreet or Republican Debates, it’s often so easy to forget about the plague ofgang violence, especially if it’s not outside our own streets. And thus incrafting a documentary about such a large subject, master documentarian SteveJames has instead focused on three former criminals who now work as “violenceinterrupters” in the South Side of Chicago. TheInterrupters gives us the portrait of a culture unwilling to change, anendless cycle for which things may never get better, but it also displays threepeople who can give us hope, and truly make us believe there can be adifference. Mr. James makes the personal fight for justice by these individualsour entry point to a year of crimes and atrocity, balancing both stories ofutter tragedy and individuals who can be taught how to use a book instead of agun. Mr. James, who brought us HoopDreams in the 1990s, has shown that the documentary form is often aboutcharacters—draw us into the people who fight for justice, and we’ll followtheir cause, no matter how hopeless, to the very end.

Read the original review. The Interrupters will play onPBS in Feburary, and will be out on DVD and Blu-Ray shortly after.

4. Meek’s Cutoff(Kelly Reichardt, USA)

Informationis power in Meek’s Cutoff, and simplyby the choice of the aspect ratio, we are constantly limited from it. Insteadof shooting the film’s brutal and dynamic landscapes in wide ratio, giving us theepic scope of the terrain, director Kelly Reichardt chose to shoot thisallegorical tale in the standard 4:3 “Academy” ratio. The result is that we asspectators are limited in what we can see, just like the young women on thepioneer trail with their bonnets. This almost claustrophobic choice makes Meek’s Cutoff a work of intensenaturalism, as settlers follow an impossible journey, led by a mysterious andoften mischievous man, played effortlessly by Bruce Greenwood. But whom totrust? The man who led us astray (though we have no idea) and the indigenousman who may lead us into danger? While crafted from the same bones as herprevious feature, Wendy & Lucy,Ms. Reichardt’s work here reaches for something greater as it plays with everygenre trope of the Western, and keeps us wholly invested in the life or deathstakes of its narrative. The movements in character and narrative are sosubtlety crafted within the framework, demonstrating the work of Ms. Reichardtand screenwriter Jonathan Raymond to help us understand that the smallest ofgestures, perhaps simply fixing a broken shoe, could be the keys to freedom andescape from death.

Read the original review. Meek’s Cutoff is nowavailable on DVD, Blu-Ray, and Netflix Instant.

3. A Separation(Asghar Farhadi, Iran)

Thereare two keys to unlocking the guilt at the center of Asghar Farhadi’s A Separation, but we never see either.Did some character over hear a conversation in another room, and what happenedbehind the door? But what we soon realize in Mr. Farhadi’s simply overwhelmingwork of drama is that everyone is at fault, trying to prove how everyone elsehas failed. A Separation is a filmabout Iran, but it’s not about the Iran we see in the video footage fromTwitter and CNN, but the ones that its citizens face every day. It’s about the differentstratums that keep us apart: religious, gender, economic, and generational.Supported by one of the most revelatory casts I’ve ever seen in a foreign film(especially the brutally cold but totally humane Peyman Mooadi as the father,Nadar), Mr. Farhadi pulls us into the intense legal debates of A Separation by both using anaturalistic handheld camera that gives the film an authenticity, but alsocarefully crafting each shot to give depth and meaning to its brutal story. Bythe time each of the layers of the narrative are revealed, we can’t seeourselves identifying with any of the characters—they are all simply men andwomen trying to do what’s best for themselves. “Wrong is wrong, no matter whatanyone ever says,” exclaims Nadar to his daughter, and that’s all we can knowin A Separation; not who is right,but that everyone is wrong.

Read the original review. Read an interview with writer-director Asghar Farhadi. ASeparation is currently playing in NewYork and Los Angeles, and will expand to more theaters throughout the next fewmonths.

2. Martha Marcy MayMarlene (Sean Durkin, USA)

There’sa reason that Elizabeth Olson, who plays the three titular characters of Martha Marcy May Marlene, has multipleidentities. Martha can’t deal with the pains of entering the real world afterhaving a transcendent experience. Marcy May can’t deal with the guilt of whatshe’s done in her past. And Marlene fears that her actions may continue tohaunt those like her. With a formal precision rarely seen by any filmmakerworking today, newcomer Sean Durkin has crafted a haunting and terrifying debutthriller built on what we can and can’t see. Along with director of photographyJody Lee Lips, Mr. Durkin carefully uses his visual style to spatially andtemporally dislocate his young and naïve protagonist, as she lives in fear ofthe dangers that haunt her, and the crimes she herself committed. The cultaspects of Martha Marcy May Marleneare less relevant than they are the catalyst for the splitting personalities ofMs. Olson (simply unsettling to watch this young actress), especially thebrutal tranquility of its leader, played with a terrifying strength through asoft and almost silent voice by John Hawkes. Mr. Durkin brings us closer andcloser into how his protagonist views the world with her shattered mind, and isable to make every shot count, each speaking to the horrible guilt and fearthis young woman feels. We soon enough realize that there is no redemption forMartha, Marcy May, or Marlene, not only because her mind has been broken so farthat she cannot understand reality from fiction, but the work she has done forthe cult is simply irreconcilable. In an age of DIY filmmaker shooting tinyfilms with the “mumblecore aesthetic” without much thought for the visual lookfor their films, Martha Marcy May Marleneproves there is still worth in meticulous formalism, as every shot in this boldwork shoots tingles down your spine.

Read the original review. MarthaMarcy May Marlene is still playing inselect theaters, and will be on DVD and Blu-Ray in the spring.

1. CertifiedCopy (Abbas Kiarostami, France/Italy/Iran)

A man and a woman sit down for acafé. For all we know, they are strangers, having what seems like a quiteenjoyable first date, filled with interesting conversation. The man begins totell the story of a woman and a boy he once saw five years ago, and the strangehabit they played. The camera though focuses on the woman, the color drainingfrom her face as he tells it. “Seems quite familiar,” she murmurs, letting asingle tear fall from her face. With that moment, I became entranced by Certified Copy, the first film byIranian master Abbas Kiarostami not made in his home country, and not just thebest film of the year, but the best in at least half a decade. Dealing withsimilar themes of performance, perception, and the nature of art, Mr.Kiarostami plays a delightful game as he gives us a romantic mystery about acouple, perhaps strangers, perhaps married for over a decade, as they debate apast life they may have never shared. James, the philosopher played by newcomerWilliam Shimmel, tells us in his opening lecture that perhaps there can bevalue in a copy as much as there is in the original. And thus, we are treatedto a copy of a real life drama, and our choice to invest in it confirms whatour own philosophical beliefs are. CertifiedCopy has been compared to films like Journeyto Italy and Before Sunrise, butMr. Kiarostami’s formal precision is too great and too wondrous to call thissimply a walk-and-talk romance. Every shot, every edit, every line of dialogue(including what language the dialogue has been spoken in!) is a clue tounpacking a mystery with no solution but what we desire to subscribe to it. AndMr. Kiarostami has found a wondrous muse in European superstar JulietteBinoche, giving a performance of witty humor, deep sorrow, and tender romance.Ms. Binoche is only known as “she” in the movie, and it fits perfectly; she canmake us believe in a romance that never existed, proving that artifice cantruly stimulate real emotion. I’ve seen CertifiedCopy five times now, and each has pointed me in a different directiontoward what I think the answers of the cryptic narrative might be, but moreimportantly, I’ve been stunned by the new details—visual, textual, anddiegetic—I’ve kept unlocking in this truly masterwork of cinema.

Read the original review. Certified Copy is currentlyavailable on Netflix Instant. A DVD release will hopefully happen sometime thisyear.

Agree? Disagree? Have favorites of your own? Sound off in the comments!

A Private Window on a Nation: Asghar Farhadi Talks "A Separation"

2011-12-30T16:37:00.000-05:00

Few films have beenmore universally received than ASeparation, an Iranian drama from director Asghar Farhadi. The film wonmultiple prizes at this year’s Berlin Film Festival, and has gone to play tostanding ovations at Telluride, Toronto, and here in New York on the festivalscene. It will also contend for the Oscars as the official selection by thenation of Iran, surprisingly for a film that deals so bleakly with issues ofclass, religion, and gender that plague Iranian society. Perhaps though, no onecan deny the power of Mr. Farhadi, who spoke about the reasons for making hisfilm back when the film played the New York Film Festival.

On deciding to makethe film and the entry point to the script.

When I started breaking the story I can’t point my finger towhat it was or how it was that got constructed in my head…I was already workingon another film [outside Iran] that I had planned for two years but one day, Ireally felt I wanted to go back to Iran and do a film there, and that feelingbecame stronger, and two days later I was back in Iran. The first image thatcame to my mind was a man who had Alzheimer’s disease and that image was stuckin my head that entire afternoon.

Working with his owndaughter, who plays the daughter in the family

Before starting to write thisscript for the film, I was in a period of taking care of my daughter—taking herto school and bringing her back every day. We were in very close company witheach other and would talk and discuss things, and I thought this could berepresented in my films. When I was writing my story, my daughter kept comingback to my mind as the person who could be perfect for this role. I thought,perhaps, this could be ideal, and easy for us to do so, because we had thattime period together. But as it turns out, it was a lot more difficult than Iplanned on. When I asked the other actors to do certain things, they usuallyaccepted very fast. It was either they had seen my previous work, or out ofrespect since I was the director. It was a lot more difficult with my daughter.Whatever I asked her to do, she always had a why to ask. And it would drive mecrazy! But the good thing that happened was that [Peyman Moaadi], who plays thefather, was getting closer and closer to my daughter. They were bonding reallywell. And he had another job, so my daughter would spend time in his office,and they started getting closer together.

Improvisation on set

I identify myself more as a writerthan as a filmmaker, so the process of writing a script is very important tome, and I usually put every detail in writing. Before starting to shoot,however, I allow some people to make changes during the rehearsal. But oncewe’re over the rehearsal and start to shoot, nothing really changes. Like anorchestra that has been rehearsing for months, you just have to look at thenotes and follow.

On his work as an“auteur”

I try and write the scripts in away that the author is not present; the author is hidden. I try and make thefilms in a way that there is no director behind it. If I hear some dialoguethat is being produced by the actors that makes me happy. This is usual inEastern art. In Eastern art, especially architecture, the creator of the artdoes not intrude between the art and the audience. For instance, when you go tothe mosques, the first thing that comes to your mind is not who made thesethings. The shadow of the creator does not cast on the viewer.

On portrayals ofgender and class

I personally don’t believe in thecategorization between men and women, and I think it is a false categorization.The reason is when there are problems in a society, they are not divided intomen’s problems and women’s problems; there are problems shared by both. If awoman in a society has a problem, I’m not excepted. That’s a problem for mydaughter, and my mother, and my wife. So I don’t think the categorizationbetween men and women is a true one and not separate.

These are two families and onelooks closer to the modern world; it’s an urban middle class family and theother one is a more religious and traditional family. These two familiesrepresent two social classes in Iranian society: the middle class orupper-middle class, and the lower class of society. And there’s a war, which isa hidden war, going on between the two. Once you start looking there, the warbecomes more and more familiar, but more dangerous, because it’s hidden.

A Separation: Family On the Verge of a Nervous Breakdown

2011-12-30T16:33:00.000-05:00

A Separation

Written and DirectedBy: Asghar Farhadi

Starring: Peyman Moaadi,Leila Hatami, Sareh Bayat, Sarina Farhadi, Shahab Hosseini, Merila Zare’i,Ali-Asghar Shahbazi, and Babak Karimi

Director of Photography: Mahmoud Kalari, Editor: HayedehSafiyari, Production Designer: Keyvan Moghaddam, Original Music: Sattar Oraki

The political state of Iran mightfeel like the elephant in the room in Asghar Farhadi’s masterful ASeparation, but the film cloyingly acknowledges its Western spectatorsduring the opening sequence. We watch from the point of view of a judge as aman and woman come for a divorce. Simin (Leila Hatami) wants to leave the stateand because her husband Naader (Peyman Moaadi) won’t join her, she wants adivorce. She tells the judge she doesn’t want to raise her daughter in such astate. When the judge asks her to describe what is wrong with the state ofIran, she acts ambivalently toward the question. The truth, we later learn, isthat she has no intention of leaving, and it is actually a much smaller, but inmany ways, much greater difficulty that haunts her.

That’sthe crux of why Mr. Farhadi’s film is a much more human drama than anythingelse. Obviously in the United States, it is difficult to watch a film like ASeparation without commenting on the tyrannical power that might belingering just below the surface. But perhaps let’s consider the narrative andstyle on the terms the film wants to subscribe. Few films, even those bymasterful Iranian directors like Abbas Kiarostami and Jafar Panahi, give areally day-to-day life or Iran and the issues that face those who never take tothe streets. What we thus find in A Separation is a wondrously observedlegal drama that provides endless complexity and moral quandaries that offer noeasy answers.

That divorcebecomes the catalyst for a number of issues that evolve from their crumblingmarriage, starting with the emotional state of their young daughter Termeh,played by Mr. Farhadi’s own daughter Shahab. Termeh goes against her mother’swill and stays with her father, who has his own issues to deal with,particularly a father with severe Alzheimer’s with no time to care for him.Naader ends up hiring a woman named Razieh (Sareh Bayat) to care for the man,though she seems like a bad choice from the beginning. Razieh has a youngdaughter to look after, and must travel long hours to get to Naader’s home.Additionally, she worries about breaking religious code when she realizes shemust clean and change Naader’s father, and cannot tell her husband about thejob because it will shame him.

Thingscome to a breaking point, a stunning reveal than tailspins the film into aseries of devastating legal sequences that ask questions of guilt, knowledge,and truth. To discuss the real pathos behind Mr. Farhadi’s sublimelyconstructed screenplay would devolve into spoiler territory, but the film playsloose and fast with our identification of who is right, who is wrong, and whatthe solution could possibly be. Mr. Moaadi plays Naader with a stern and hollowface without much sign of warmth, but draws a sympathetic portrayal of a manpushed against his principles with stern power. The performance includes a lotof shouting, but Mr. Moaadi gives so much subtlety in how we should understandhis character, that it is truly as remarkable as an English performance of theyear (Move over Michael Fassbender!). As Naader fights for his case, hopingtruth will prevail, Mr. Farhadi keeps us in limbo about details.

Underanother director, the melodrama that drives ASeparation may have come off as over-the-top and illogical, and the way ithides details until their later reveal could come off as unjustly calculated.But leave it to the naturalistic style of Mr. Farhadi to keep us highlyinvolved in the nature. Like that opening shot suggests, we are the impartialobservers of this drama, and the camera often is cluttered in the back, withobjects or door frames taking over parts of the shot. In doing so, Mr. Farhadiattempts to keep us at arm’s length from the truth until we are ready. That isnot to say he won’t give us a close up when needed—he knows how to composebeautiful frames by using frames and distance between his actors that speaksvolumes about their relationships. And one shot in particular, a simpleclose-up on Termeh after she is forced to tell a lie left me in pieces.

As A Separation begins to culminate, the issues on hand left me flooredonto whom I should identify with in the situation, and what was the ultimatelyright thing. Most thankfully, A Separation never patronizes its viewerswith big speeches or allegorical signs of a greater problem, keeping itself tothe intimacy of its complex characters. Mr. Farhadi, best known for hisprevious film About Elly (a winner at the Tribeca Film Festival butnever released theatrically in the states), knows that the drama is enough todebate, and his open ending might feel trite through another lens, but providesus with a final moment to contemplate what we’ve seen.

Using glass often as a framingreference, this isn’t just a film about a separation by divorce, but theseparations between generations, religions, and economic classes. The secondtime I saw A Separation, I noticedhow near the end of the film, one character smashes a window, leaving a hugehole in the glass. That glass that tries to keep these characters distanced fromeach other, always contained in their small worlds, cannot stay bound upforever.

Pariah: Out of the Closet in a Brooklyn Brownstone

2011-12-30T16:29:00.000-05:00

Pariah

Written and DirectedBy: Dee Rees

Starring: AdeperoOduye, Pernell Walker, Aasha Davis, Charles Parnell, and Kim Wayans

Director of Photography: Bradford Young, Editor: MakoKamitsuna, Production Designer: Inbal Weinberg

Rated: R for thestuff that happens when you enter adulthood.

Theglowing lights hang through the palette of Dee Rees’s Pariah, a coming of age and coming out story of a young girl inBrooklyn. These lights, lovingly shot by director of photography BradfordYoung, are unfocused, always hanging in the distant. We’re not sure what theyare—most likely just headlights of cars off in the distant—but there presencecreates the longing of Pariah’s youngprotagonist, Alike, who knows there’s a better world out there for her, butnever sure what it is.

Pariah on its premise feels like thetypical fare released out of the Sundance Film Festival, and with thedemocratization of film (and more importantly, digital video), it can be toughto stay out of the pack and feel original. Especially with the breakout of LeeDaniels’s Precious only two yearsago, Pariah’s urbanized environmentsand focus on a solely black culture give it a feeling that we’ve been herebefore, even if we haven’t. But there’s something that Ms. Rees, who based thisstory on her own young life, can’t have taken away from her, and that’s theauthenticity in much of her narrative, and especially that of her young starAdepero Oduye.

Despitemy initial reaction of remembering Precious,Ms. Rees’s narrative and her filmmaking strategy couldn’t be further from thatmisguided work. Pariah is made withtotal love for Alike, a young girl who hides her identity as a lesbian from herparents while spending time with a close friend that takes her to clubs to meetwomen. But Alike is still young and virginal, too scared to go home withanyone, and too scared to go home (she changes her clothes on the bus home tohide her true identity).

It’seasy to see why Alike can’t reveal herself. Her father (Charles Parnell,commanding but never over-the-top) is a police detective, more-or-less absent,and with little respect for his wife. Her mother, Audrey (Kim Wayans), is anoverly concerned churchgoer with no patience for Alike’s choice of clothes.Audrey believes she can keep her family protected and boxed in to what societydemands, fearing at any moment things will tare her family apart,

Ofcourse, Alike is the ticking time-bomb waiting to happen, as she explores hersexuality and what she truly wants in life. Pariahis still at times a indie-film-paint-by-the-numbers narrative, which means onlythose of us who sit through way too many Sundance flicks will truly be annoyed.But Mr. Young’s gorgeous cinematography breathes a sweetness and life to manyof the sequences, especially a couple of sequences at night club that explodewith color and literally bring a shine to Alike’s world.

AndMs. Oduye has that young face that can capture that magic of uncertainty, aswell as the fear, in so many sequences. Even during the film’s last third,which takes some turns for the sake of moving the story instead of moving thecharacters, Ms. Oduye’s often quiet and articulate body give so much of thecharacter. There’s nothing showy about her performance, and even when she readsher poetry, Ms. Oduye brings an understated statement of honesty to her words.And if anything, Pariah is abouthonesty, both inside your head and outside to your world.

The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo: A Twisted Hero for Twisted Times

2011-12-27T13:18:00.000-05:00

The Girl With TheDragon Tattoo

Directed By:David Fincher

Written By: SteveZallian, based on the novel by Stieg Larsson

Starring: DanielCraig, Rooney Mara, Christopher Plummer, Stellan Skarsgard, and Robin Wright

Director of Photography: Jeff Cronenweth, Editors: KirkBaxter and Angus Wall, Production Designer: Donald Graham Burt, Original Music:Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross

Rated: R for hardviolence, rape, and all the other stuff to support your anti-holiday cheer.

Thepitch-perfect sequence in David Fincher’s TheGirl With the Dragon Tattoo is also one of the most confusing andunmemorable sequences in the film. Journalist Mikael Blomkvist (Daniel Craig)is led around the yard outside the mansion of millionaire Henrik Vagner(Christopher Plummer), who has changed Blomkvist with investigating his family.Henrik explains each member of his family, where they live, and who talks towho. But Mr. Fincher’s camera refuses to let our eyes process this information.He cuts to shots of each home of each family member, and refuses to orient thespatial relationship of these homes to each other, just that they all surroundeach other. This reflects not only the script’s suggestions that the closestpeople to us are often the ones that hurt us the most, but more so, Mr.Fincher’s deconstruction of the investigative process. The textual informationis displayed concretely and without flourish, but because the director refusesto reinforce each detail with visual information, we remain lost to themystery.

IfZodiac, Mr. Fincher’s cult classic masterpieceabout the true-life serial killer in San Francisco, was all about makingaudience as obsessive as the characters solving an unknown case, The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo does theopposite. The answer to the central mystery is slapping us in the face, butbecause Mr. Fincher constantly disorients us with his bold and anti-genrecompositions, it remains more of a character piece. And thus, the Americandirector of Fight Club and The Social Network has done the best jobhe can in adapting the tepid, international best-seller by Stieg Larsson. Whythe Swedish novels became an extravaganza still remains something of amystery—the narratives are built on the same twist-heavy lackluster prose thatlaunched Dan Brown, but include intense violence and rape as well. Perhapsthought, that comes down to the film’s titular character, here played by RooneyMara (last seen breaking up with Mark Zuckerberg in the opening of The Social Network).

Thepretty Ms. Mara, playing Lisbaeth Salander, is unrecognizable here, spouting spikedtar-black hair and a similar colored wardrobe to match, not to speak ofnumerous piercings. Salander is a social outcast, not only legally (she’s award of the state), but also in her demeanor. Unlike the fast-talkingZuckerberg, Salander remains silent. When pressed to give her personal opinionon a matter, she refuses, before awkwardly discussing the sexual tendencies ofthe client she investigated.

It’sa shame that Steve Zallian, who adapted Mr. Larsson’s novel, couldn’t strayfurther from the novel’s main mystery. Salander and Blomkvist never meet forover an hour (and the film runs close to three). While Blomkvist, attempting toescape after a libel suit leaves him penniless, solves the mystery of a missinggirl on an isolated island, Salander must instead battle her psychiatrist whosexually abuses her in some quite intense sequences. However, as fans of thenovel (and the simplistic Swedish films) will know, Salander takes her revengeand then some, and it’s here that Ms. Mara turns Lisabeth from an outcast toboth the inevitable outcome of decades of institutionalized misogyny and a darkand twisted version of feminism.

Lisabeth’srevenge still feels like the climax of the film, because it is certainly themost satisfying sequence in the film (as well as the one that will createplenty of audience members to hide their eyes), but soon she joins Blomkvist inhis search to find who killed the young girl over forty years ago. Casting Mr.Craig, a paragon of masculinity, in the role of the ineffective journalist canbe seen as miscasting, but also Mr. Fincher playing with out knowledge of starpersona. While he does solve some of the intricacies of the case, it isLisabeth who is able to make the links needed. When the two later end up morethan just detectives, it is Lisabeth who is not just riding on top, but appearsto be thrusting into his body.

Thesekind of details, visual more than scripted, prove Mr. Fincher’s control overthe camera, and his meticulous work appears throughout his tightly framed shotsalong with slow Stedicam pans. The director feels like a scientist dissectingrats in a maze, not emotionally distant necessary, but like peeling an onion,trying to discover what’s inside. Bringing together DP Jeff Cronenweth andeditors Kirk Baxter and Angus Wall (who all worked on The Social Network), Mr. Fincher constantly creates a smooth rhythmto the narrative, always leaving more details in the frame than we might getwith a more standard director (or certainly Niels Oplev, director of theSwedish original). The film presents a series of dark blacks and blindingwhites, and when Salander notices a smudge of a bright red on the palette ofthe camera, she amusingly and self-consciously wipes it off. Not every decisionis perfect, however, and one involving a song by Enya during a crucially campysequence will certainly be discussed for years in complete confusion.

Iwish though, Mr. Fincher and Mr. Zallian could make up for what is an awfullyslight mystery. The narrative twists of Mr. Larsson’s novel seem to small andtoo silly for Mr. Fincher, and although he gives the dialogue a good spark ofpace through the editing pattern, there is no way to overcome what the contentsof that dialogue contain. Blomkvist and Salander are unique outcasts in a worldof corruption, and Mr. Craig and Ms. Mara fit wonderfully together by exposingeach other’s ticks and tocks, but the mystery they must solve is much lessinteresting than their personal demons they’ve left behind. As the extremelybold, almost parody, credits sequences suggests, these are two heroes born outof both a world of technology and increasing corruption, whether financial,political, or social.

ButThe Girl With the Dragon Tattoo isall about playing with our expectations. Male star Mr. Craig becomes secondfiddle to the unknown, and Ms. Mara goes from innocent female sidekick to thereal story. The sounds of the score (by SocialNetwork duo Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross) are both brooding, but oftensound like a broken music box. This is a fairy tale gone horribly wrong, butperhaps, it’s the only story we can have for a day like today.

War Horse: Bonds Beyond the Trenches

2011-12-27T13:09:00.000-05:00

War Horse

Directed By:Steven Spielberg

Written By: LeeHall and Richard Curtis, based on the novel by Michael Morpurgo

Starring: JeremyIrvine, Peter Mullan, Emily Watson, Niels Arestrup, David Thewlis, TomHiddleston, Benedict Cumberbatch, Celine Bickens, and Eddie Marsan

Director of Photography: Janusz Kaminski, Editor: MichaelKhan, Production Designer: Rick Carter, Original Music: John Williams

Rated: PG-13 forwar-related and horse-related violence.

Theusual argument that someone will come across when discussing the work ofHollywood blockbuster and box office king Steven Spielberg is that he’s asentimentalist. His success, whether in terms of gigantic spectacle (Close Encounters, Jurassic Park) or serious drama (Schindler’s List, Munich)is that in the end, he’s somewhat of a pushover when it comes to trying tobreak through to our emotions, often going right for the artery in trying toactivate our tear ducts.

Certainlyone can simplify what Mr. Spielberg does by that word, but I’ve always read itas something more complex. Instead, the filmmaker believes in the power thatgood can sometimes triumph over cynicism, often in the darkest of times. Thatif we believe, than realism need not matter, and the bonds we hold—betweenfamily, friends, or perhaps even strangers—are all we need.

Thesethemes run throughout the veins of WarHorse, Mr. Spielberg’s second feature this holiday season (after hisanimated Adventures of Tintin).Adapted from the novel by Michael Morpurgo, though perhaps sent into productionafter the runaway success of the London stage adaptation now playing onBroadway, Mr. Spielberg’s narrative follows a titular horse from its trialswith a poor family in the United Kingdom, before weaving through a number ofstories during the First World War.

Mr.Spielberg has always asked us to sympathize with the oddest of creatures, evenaliens (ET) or androids (AI), and no doubt his filmmaking and useof the camera is what best puts us inside the mind of Joey, a young horse andfriend to Albert (Jeremy Irvine). Albert lives with his parents (Peter Mullanand Emily Watson) on a small farm, where they struggle to make ends meets, andthe first third of the narrative involves the naïve Albert trying to teach Joeyhow to plow.

Soonenough though, Albert disappears as Joey is sent off to war. Following anarrative similar to Anthony Mann’s Winchester’73, screenwriters Lee Hall and Richard Curtis follow Joey around as sortof a guide for a number of stories surrounding the war. There’s the Englishcaptain (Tom Hiddleston) hoping to prove himself worthy of his position, thetwo German brothers sworn to protect each other, even if it means abandoningthe war, and the young French girl (Celine Bickens) who wants more than nothingthan her grandfather (Niels Arestrup) to let her know the truth about herparents, but more than that, find some sort of happiness amid the terror. Joeybecomes our narrative through line, and it is his presence that ofteninstigates a change in the more cynical characters to give into the power ofsomething greater than themselves.

Theselittle vignettes give War Horse asomewhat awkward rhythm, especially considering how long the first third of thenarrative spends on our two heroes Joey and Albert. And as good as some ofthese vignettes are, especially one involving an English and German soldierhelping Joey break out of some wires, they feel like variations on the sametheme, each one attempting to chip away at your heart and tear ducts. There’snothing wrong with Mr. Spielberg’s sentimentality, but the lack of variation inthe story feels tiring over time, especially given the film’s two and a halfhour running time.

Butno one can deny the power of the director’s filmmaking style. Owing more toJohn Ford than the director has done in any of his previous films (the film’ssilent ending, with its Technicolor looking sunset, borrows heavily from The Searchers), Mr. Spielberg goes forglossy and gigantic camera sweeps and deep close-ups than almost look past thefaces and into the characters’ souls. Because this is less a war film than afilm that includes war, the battle sequences go for spectacle and intensitywithout the ultra-violence of SavingPrivate Ryan—a surprisingly effective method that still gives the audiencea jolt. Mr. Spielberg makes the battles tough to watch, but it is the gutwrenching moments waiting in the trenches before that his camera makes yousqueeze your seat with terror.

War Horse is certainly is a softballlooking to tear down your emotional barriers, and certainly its climatic endingwill lead more icy viewers to scoff at its realism. But Mr. Spielberg has neverset himself in the real world; his cinema wants to not only transform us bybringing us to worlds and places we could never see, but also a place where,perhaps, just for a few moments, man can overcome his skepticism, and give intothe power that humanity may have inside.

The Adventures of Tintin: The Tingles for Adventure, Drunkard and Canine in Tow

2011-12-22T23:31:00.000-05:00

The Adventures ofTintin

Directed By:Steven Spielberg

Written By:Steven Moffat, Edgar Wright, and Joe Cornish, based on the comics by Hergé

Starring: JamieBell, Andy Serkis, Daniel Craig, Simon Pegg, Nick Frost, and Toby Jones

Editor: Michael Kahn, Art Direction: Andrew Jones and JeffWisniewski, Original Music: John Williams

Rated: PG forcomic book violence and fun.

There’sone man you can’t keep your eyes off of in TheAdventures of Tintin, and he’s not even on screen, and this time not evenbehind it. I’m of course referring to the film’s director, Hollywood wonder-boySteven Spielberg. His presence looms large in this adaptation of the comicbooks by Hergé, who, while world-famous, remains mostly anonymous to Americanviewers, myself included. But its Mr. Spielberg’s camera—how he uses it and howhe constantly reinvents the rules of modern cinema (many of which, hewrote)—that remains the constant thrill of Tintin.It’s also the downfall of his film.

Mr.Spielberg is no stranger to adventures, and Indiana Jones seems to be in thetown over from wherever globetrotting Tintin, a young and peppy journalist withan ache for adventure, must be. But here the craftsman takes on new challenges;not just the added dimension of 3D (something I really only noticed in theweight of my wallet), but going for full-scale animation. The Adventures of Tintin isn’t a classically animated world—Mr.Spielberg used the aide of Avatardirector James Cameron, as well as producer Peter Jackson, to use the WETAstudios and shoot the whole film in a digital landscape with actors carefullymonitored to bring their performances to the cartoonish caricatures. Butthere’s something lifeless in Tintin,and its not just the odd uncanny valley look of the film’s characters, but itslack of a true adventure spirit, which instead feels calculated and often standard,that the reveals and boyhood adventure that has marked so much of Mr.Spielberg’s career remains absent.

Thatcame as a surprise at least to me, especially considering the talents behindthe film’s script, which includes the impossibly strong (and Brtish) trio ofSteven Moffat (the BBC’s Doctor Whoreboot), Edgar Wright (Shaun of the Dead),and Joe Cornish (Attack the Block). Someof the issue may be that Tintin (Jamie Bell) himself is somewhat of a blankface. Young and peppy, Tintin is too much of a do-gooder with a thirst foradventure but no explanation why, besides the demands of the script. His dog, awhite terrier named Snowy, seems to have more definition than any of the hairsin Tintin’s ginger hair.

Sowhen Tintin soon takes off following the clues of an old sunken ship and itsmysterious cargo, it’s a relief when he crosses paths with the wide andround-nosed Haddock, a sea captain with veins soaked in alcohol and played byAndy Serkis. Haddock is neither id nor ego to Tintin, but his wicked ways givethe film’s script a fun humor missing from its pale-skinned hero, even if itshies from any issue related to alcoholism (Mr. Spielberg isn’t remaking Lost Weekend, after all). When Haddock,in either a moment of complete delusion or complete clarity, views a pirateship crashing through the sands of a desert before seeing himself fightingpirates, Mr. Spielberg finally finds the voice he’s looking for.

Butalas! Haddock must be redeemed, and the do-gooders must prevail (I’m sure ifDr. Jones ever called himself a do-gooder, he might puke). The film jumpsthrough its exotic locations (in an unspecified time, most likely a pre-war orpost-war haze it appears), but the focus is rarely what’s on the camera thanhow it’s used. Most tradition animated films try and stick to the typicalcinematic language we’ve learned through live-action to translate its story andfeelings. But Mr. Spielberg sees it instead as release, smashing his camerathrough windows, under cars, and in all sorts of impossible angles (extremeclose-up to wide long shot without cutting? No problem). This all comes intoplay during the film’s gigantic set piece: a fifteen minute car chase through aMoroccan city, all done in a single “shot,” as Mr. Spielberg builds impossibleset pieces (a rush wall of water, a clever hawk, and a sliding hotel) whileconstantly finding a new way for his camera to follow the flow of thecharacters.

It’sintensely cinematic stuff that’s should give the film a really, really big wow,but it also reveals the essential artifice of The Adventures of Tintin—I cared more about where Mr. Spielberg’scamera planned on going next than the young boys on screen (women are mostlyabsent on screen, and no character seems to have developed a libido). As thefilm slowly reaches its end and reveals its MacGuffin (one that might have beenmuch more fun if remained secret to the film’s characters), I found thespectacle of Tintin to be quite that.Mr. Spielberg’s greatest craft has been something not shown on screen: thechills down my spine during Jaws, thetears I poured at the end of ArtificialIntelligence, and the giddy sense of adventure during Raiders of the Lost Ark. Perhaps that’s why Mr. Spielberg hasdoubled his chances with a second film this holiday weekend (the WWItear-jerker War Horse), but there wascertainly time when the director need only one film to perfect both spectacleand storytelling.

Pina: Dance, Out of the Theater and Out of the Screen

2011-12-22T23:18:00.000-05:00

Pina

Directed By: WimWenders

Featuring:Members of the Tanztheater Wuppertal

Director of Photography: Helene Louvart, Editor: ToniFroschhammer, Production Designer: Peter Pabst, Original Music: Thom Hanreich

Rated: PG fordancing, I assume.

Nowtwo years into the “three dimensional revolution,” the style has finallyarrived in its most luscious and perfected use in Pina, a dance documentary from Wim Wenders, featuring thechoreography of Pina Bausch. 3D became the next step in cinema after JamesCameron’s Avatar, but since then,directors have struggled to find an art in creation space and depth, whilestudios have thrown it on top of films without any care for what use of 3Dshould be. Even skillful directors like Werner Herzog (Cave of Forgotten Dreams), Martin Scorsese (Hugo), and Steven Spielberg (The Adventures of Tintin) haven’t particularly cracked the 3D bubble in a waythat occasionally wows but often remains flat. What exactly are we supposed todo with all this space?

ButMr. Wenders, who has made a name both as a director of narratives (Wings of Desire) and concertdocumentaries (The Buena Vista SocialClub), understands why 3D should be used: complete spectacle. The samecould be said for the choreography of the late Ms. Bausch, whose choreographydefies most structures of what we understand as dance—breaking ourunderstanding of tradition for something new and inventive. And thus, themarriage of the two artists—Ms. Bauch as the creator and Mr. Wenders as thecapturer—makes for pure magic in this total extravaganza.

Assomeone who has watched only a few ballets, modern dance was more or less aliento me as I sat down with my 3D glasses sitting awkwardly on my face. Anddescribing what Ms. Bausch does is somewhat difficult. The dancers don’t asmuch move as much as they live. They’re performances, as they move aroundchairs, or attempt to fall in love, or grive in a corner, less choreographedmotion than organic performance. Mr. Wenders smartly takes his camera out ofthe audience and onto the stage, allowing us to see the not just the physicalperformance, but the facial performance is detailed as well.

Butit is more the inventiveness of the set pieces by Ms. Bausch than the camerawork of Mr. Wenders that shines. Dancers fly through the air elated with joy.They pound the ground, as if screaming for release. Lovers support each otherfrom collapsing to the ground. Mr. Wenders smartly relieves himself of thetheatrical space for a number of the works, taking them out into the world andmaking them part of life, refusing the divorce us from the world they inhabit.And along with the excellent score and soundtrack, the work hooks you in as youtry to understand the wonder.

Pina, as described earlier, is also thefirst film to understand why spectacle is the only appropriate use of 3D. Themore breathtaking sequences often feature dancers arms and legs flying in andout of the screen. One dancer often explodes from the screen, while others fallbehind in the space. This effect does return Pina to some of its theatricality, but it also gives you a sense of“wow” that few filmmakers can do when using the somewhat puzzling format.

Pina loves that sense of wonderment, ofshowing you something that disregards explanation, much less any sense of logicalcohesion. It’s a shame that Mr. Wenders decided to include a number ofinterviews with the dancers of Ms. Bausch’s troupe, each one explaining why thechoreographer was so legendary. Explanation is certainly not necessary; it’sall in the movements of their bodies.

Mission: Impossible – Ghost Protocol: Spy Vs. Explosions

2011-12-20T22:05:00.000-05:00

Mission: Impossible –Ghost Protocol

Directed By: BradBird

Written By: JoshApplebaum and Andre Nemec, based on the television series created by BruceGeller

Starring: TomCruise, Jeremy Renner, Paula Patton, Simon Pegg, Michael Nyqvist, TomWilkinson, Anil Kapoor, Lea Seydoux, and Josh Holloway

Director of Photography: Robert Elswit, Editor: Paul Hirsch,Production Designer: James D. Bissell, Original Music: Michael Giacchino

Rated: PG-13 forthose explosions that always seem to follow Tom Cruise around.

TheMission: Impossible series, whichbegan as a television series but since 1996 has become an action vehicle forTom Cruise, has always felt like a Rosarch test for its directors. When you seeMr. Cruise and giant explosions, what does it look like to you? For Brian DePalma, it was a film that piled on twist after twist, revealing itself asself-reflexive genre cinema. JJ Abrams put together kinetic action sequenceswith a devilish villain played by Philip Seymour Hoffman, which felt at timesreminiscent of Lost. And the lesssaid about John Woo’s disaster, the better. Now comes Brad Bird, the directorof animated hits like Ratatouille,starting his live-action debut.

Despitehis previous work only including actors whom he can tweak through digital manipulationto every freckle (though one could argue most Hollywood flicks today do thesame), Mr. Bird’s thematic work seems apt for the Mission: Impossible series. TheIron Giant played with the Cold War ideology often lying in the backgroundof the series (it’s always the Russians!). And The Incredibles showed Mr. Bird’s love of spectacle and action, themore inventive the better. And thus, Mr. Bird takes and crafts Mission: Impossible – Ghost Protocol intohis own movie, one that wants to wow you from beginning to end.

Verylittle has remained continuous between the now four films, and the onlycharacter who has ever remained center is Mr. Cruise. When we open the film,super-spy Ethan Hunt (Mr. Cruise) is sitting in a Russian prison for mysteriousreasons, but is soon broken out by his fellow spy team members, played by thesexy Paula Patton and comic relief Simon Pegg (very much a stand-in for Mr.Bird’s own inner nerd). It’s then off to the Kremlin to steal documents, buteverything goes wrong with a nuclear-ambitioned mad man (Michael Nyqvist) causesa disaster. Soon enough, the secretary initiates the titular “Ghost Protocol”(oh dear!) and the entire team must stop the bomber while disavowed by thenation. Plus, a former mysterious aide, played by a pretty blank Jeremy Renner,joins the team as well.

Audienceswanting anything substantial to chew on with Mission: Impossible probably checked out after the first film (mayI recommend Pina this weekend if you’relooking for spectacle?), and Mr. Bird probably had little hand to do much interms of revision. But when it comes to highflying action, Mr. Bird soars,often literally, into the air with his camera. Using both 35mm and IMAX 70mm(seeing the film in regular film just won’t cut it), Ghost Protocol delights itself in funky gadgetry, intensecomplications, and very big set pieces. The film’s climax comes during analmost forty-five minute sequence at the Burj Khalifa, the world’s tallestbuilding. The sequence starts with Mr. Cruise scaling the building throughvertigo inducing shots by Mr. Bird and DP Robert Elswit (while supported by multiple cables, seeingMr. Cruise doing his own stunts is adds to the grip). It then switches to aHitchcock-inspired doubling as the gang attempts to trade secrets with the badguys, before ending with a foot then car chase through the streets of Dubai(while a sandstorm pounds the city, no doubt!).

It’sa shame how great that sequence is (and how Mr. Bird makes IMAX more compellingthan any 3D use this year), because the rest of Ghost Protocol can’t compare to it. The last thirty minutes lackanything resembling tension, though a high-tech parking garage makes for a funfinal showdown. Whenever the script reaches for any type of character (We’re ateam, guys! Let me tell you about my secret past!), I kept checking my watch tosee when the entire thing is over (plus, a self-serving callback to Mr. Abram’sentry for the ending stood out as baffling). This is a shame because Mr. Birdhas both a knack for giant spectacle (the effects in the film are ridiculous…andridiculously fun) as well as injecting a lot of humor, while supported by Michael Giacchino's bombastic variations on the classic theme. Mr. Bird has a lot ofgreat ideas of what to build in Mr. Cruise’s sandbox, but you almost wish hechose the sandbox in the first place.

The Wire - All Prologue: The Green Lights of Baltimore

2011-12-17T12:57:00.003-05:00

The Wire – AllPrologue

Season 2, Episode 6

Directed By:Steve Shill

Written By: DavidSimon, from a story by Ed Burns and Simon

Read out “The Wire” Project here. Read about the previous episode here, or click here to see the total coverage. Assume spoilers for the episode

Whydoes David Simon identify with D’Angelo Barksdale so much? No other characterin The Wire often transforms himselffrom his lowly origins to a microphone for Mr. Simon’s themes. Mr. Simon neversold drugs or had a childhood that led him to prison. Sure, he spent a lot oftime around drug culture (see: The Corner),but there is something truly unique about why he chooses D’Angelo. D’Angelostill holds onto the fact that he can escape. McNulty and the cops cannot seethings as improving. Stringer and the higher up drug family know they are nowtied to a certain life. And the port men see there life dying out. But D’Angelostill believes in the nudge of escape.

Buthow much can he escape? The highlight of “All Prologue” is a speech whereD’Angelo explains The Great Gatsby tothe prison book club. “There are no second acts in America,” someone quotesFitzgerald, which inspires D’Angelo to explain that as much as we want toescape our past—our crimes, our passions, our family—we are inextricably linkedto them. And many characters slowly realize in this episode that they are, infact, tied to their past.

Oldbusiness starts this episode, with Omar finally testifying against Bird for theshooting of William Gant, the witness killed all the way back in the pilot.It’s an amusing sequence, as Omar speaks bluntly about his criminal historywithout remorse, but providing the necessary details to the jury. When MauriceLevy tries to discredit him, Omar compares himself to Levy, “I got theshotgun—you got the briefcase.” And that’s evidence you can’t dismiss. McNultyasks Omar after the case whether he actually saw the shooting. “You reallygonna ask me that?” Omar berates him.

McNultyis coming to his own trouble because he would rather be back in his old life,referring to the ports as “retirement.” He visits Elena, hoping he can somehowspark their relationship again. After dinner and a fun night in bed, McNultybelieves he may have something to hold onto. But she kicks him outanyways—McNulty’s past as a terrible husband and absent father can’t beredeemed.

Therest of the detail continue to track the union, hoping to find some sort ofconnection to make the case, as well as help Bunk with his fourteen Jane Does(Bunk, for his past, is convinced the case is insolvable, and drinks himselfinto oblivion). The union isn’t exactly a success, and drugs have noconnection, so they begin watching the ports for smuggling using the computersystem. Russell continues to make her past relevant, as she becomesparticularly intelligent on how to read the system for potential smugglingcases.

Frankhimself struggles to hold onto the union. His campaign contributions seem tohave little affect, and the members are beginning to grumble about where theresults Frank promised could be. And while Frank wants to get out of thesmuggling business, one member, Nat, is onto his game anyways. Meanwhile, Ziggycontinues to show off his money, and when Frank confronts him, Ziggy talksabout his childhood at the docks, and

how that’s been his entire life. Frankcan’t stop Ziggy; his past informs his future.

Nick,though, continues to be the tragic turn of the season. Afraid for Ziggy’s lifeand still having wishes about his own possible future, Ziggy turns to theGreeks for help on the Ziggy case. He gets the money for the torched car, butnow must work behind Frank’s back and help them smuggle drug shipments. Whengetting paid for his help, he’s given a choice: a small bit of cash, or drugsthat can be sold for numerous times the

profit. Nick hesitates: is a housemaybe not a dead dream? “Half cash, half drugs.”

Nickhas a green light in his future, or at least one he can see across the lake.But he’s not even living in the mansion yet, he’s still in step one. And justgetting out of the world you came from can be the hardest step to make. At theend of the episode, after refusing help from everyone else in the familybusiness, D’Angelo is attacked in the library. It’s made to look like a suicideattempt. I’m highly confident the attacker was working for Avon. Either way,D’Angelo can’t escape his past—he’ll either die as part of the family, or dietrying to get out.

Carnage: Nine Rounds in a Brooklyn Home

2011-12-16T10:33:00.001-05:00

Carnage

Directed By: RomanPolanski

Written By:Roman Polanski and Yasmina Reza, based on the play by Ms. Reza

Starring:Kate Winslet, Jodie Foster, John C. Riley, and Christoph Waltz.

Director ofPhotography: Pawel Edelman, Editor: Herve de Luze, Production Designer: DeanTavoularis, Original Music: Alexandre Desplat

Rated: R fornasty things said among adults

The title Carnage seems like an appropriate title for any film by theinternational auteur Roman Polanski. Not that his films are particularlyviolent, though they have their occasional horrific moments, but the word “carnage”seems to apply to the psychological state of characters making it through Mr.Polanski’s unsettling worlds. When we think of Mr. Polanski as a filmmaker, wethink of Jake Gittes staring blankly at a dead woman, Rosemary embracing herson of Satan, or a writer maliciously hit by a car, his life’s work flying intothe air.

So Carnage, shortened from the Yasmina Reza play God of Carnage,seems like an appropriate for Mr. Polanski to take on. Ms. Reza’s play was ahit in Paris, London, and here in New York on Broadway, and like Who’sAfraid of Virginia Woolf?, is a 4 person actor’s showcase more thananything else. But Carnage doublesthe Georges and Marthas, who slowly break down social order into manic chaosseems ripe for Mr. Polanski to play with visually and build into another one ofhis cinematic satires. Which is where the problem lies for this adaptation: thedirector doesn’t even begin to bite the apple. Mr. Polanski has some eye forcomposition, but he never really takes the play and makes it his own.

Part of the problemperhaps comes from that Mr. Polanski adapted the play with Ms. Rezaherself, and besides a couple of bookended shots, the film keeps the narrativespace of the play the same. Not that it should necessarily—Mr. Polanski hascreated some of the most terrifying small spaces in films like Repulsionand Knife in the Water. And thus we open in progress as Alan and Nancyat the Brooklyn home of Michael and Penelope. As we learn, Alan and Nancy’s sonhas smacked a couple of teeth out of Michael and Penelope’s son. We quicklypick up on their quirks, all of which are first seen as minor. Alan (ChristophWaltz) is a somewhat absent lawyer who can’t avoid his Blackberry. Nancy (KateWinslet) works in finance and seems to avoid any sort of conflict. Michael(John C Riley) sells hardware appliances and seems nonchalant about the issue. AndPenelope (Jodie Foster) is working on a book about Darfur and sees herself as arighteous do-gooder.

While these personalities seem to get on fine enough to begin save for a fewminor hints of disagreement—Alan protests when Penelope claims his son was“armed” with a stick. But every time things seem like a conclusion, somethingpulls these two couples back together, and things start to get nasty. And thuswe go from polite argument to full on insanity. The title, as Alan puts it,comes from the idea that humans are controlled by the God of Carnage, and rageis our fundamental state. And certainly here, we get plenty of that.

But while you get in the dialogue, and certainly the over-the-top performances,you don’t get it in Mr. Polanski’s camera at all. While he does choose someinteresting tableaux and uses handheld appropriately, to say this is one of Mr.Polanski’s most reserved films would be an understatement. Simply consider hislast film, an adaptation of the airport thriller The Ghost Writer. Whatwas simple scares on paper became sadistically gruesome fun for the director,and just the title of that film conjures up that sublime window that seems tobring the clouded darkness into the cold home of which the characters aretrapped. There’s nothing particularly memorable about the set design in Carnage,and you feel Mr. Polanski could have played more with lighting or even gone offthe deep end if he wanted to if he was not tied to the hip with Ms. Reza.

Similarly, the performances have not translated well to the film as well. You’dthink since each of these actors are considered some of the finest of theirgeneration, they would understand the difference between theater acting andfilm acting. In the theater, you can get away with letting it all go, as thefeedback loop of the audience will build it and invest them more. Not in film,which requires subtlety and wit at every moment, with a careful precision ofevery line. Mr. Riley, Ms. Foster, and especially Ms. Winslet seem to believean audience is sitting right in the room with them as they shout their lines atthe top of their lungs, going for gestures and mannerisms much more suited forthe proscenium. Only Mr. Waltz, with his playful accent and slow delivery ofdialogue seems to know the score. When he has a big moment, he comes up closeand almost whispers his lines, knowing that the camera will do the rest.

But much of this is the essentialissue with the text of Ms. Reza’s play. Carnage has no foreground, nocontext, and nothing to hold onto. It’s a game without rules and withoutstakes, and while Ms. Reza can create some humorous moments, her play isessentially shallow, mocking bourgeois life because why the heck not?George and Martha could never carry a play by themselves; Albee knew theyneeded an audience for their quibbles. And perhaps that’s why God of Carnage worked on stage—anaudience could push them to their boundaries, where the audience is constantly implicatedalong with the actors. With film, that strip of light creates an immediateseparation, where we are free to observe without being observed. That it unlessyou use film as it was designed, and how Mr. Polanski has done so well in thepast while driving characters insane in closed spaces. Mr. Reza has nointerest, so neither should we.

The Wire - Undertow: Back In the Game

2011-12-14T23:07:00.000-05:00

The Wire – Undertow

Season 2, Episode 5

Directed By: Steve Shill

Written By: Ed Burns, from a story by David Simon and Burns

Read out “The Wire” Project here. Read about the previous episode here, or click here to see the total coverage. Assume spoilers for the episode

Aftera long break from The Wire(non-cinema issues: moving apartments, overload of work, some other stuff) Iwas afraid if I could jump back into the show without it losing its magic. Ithad been over a month, and while I had not forgotten about lonely fighterMcNulty, the cautious and adaptive Stringer Bell, and the moral conundrums ofFrank Sobotka, I wondered if the show would start to show fatigue, just frombeing more of the same. But The Wirealways finds new ways to not just put its characters in new places, but make us seethese characters differently. Not a complete 180 or anything, but to reallyunderstand their true convictions.

But “Undertow” is one of the most plotheavy episodes of The Wire. Ed Burnsand director Steve Shill have no rush of plot, and nothing revelatory orshocking happens. But small nudges reveal these characters as the policeattempt to break into the port culture, a self-contained world where everyoneprotects themselves. When Freamon, Bunk, and Russell present Grand Jury summonsto a number of workers, Frank laughs in their face almost manically. He knowsthese guys are loyal to the end, as long as he’s loyal to them.

Buthow long can he provide for them? His son, Ziggy, has already moved into thedrug game, poorly of course, as he has his car stolen and torched by the thugswho lent him a cocaine. When Nick unsuccessfully tries to haggle it back, whilesimultaneously searching to find a house for his girlfriend and daughter (“wecan rent” after seeing the price of one), he decides that heading into the drugbusiness may be his only way off the ports. This becomes especially essentialwhen he knows Frank, in an effort to keep police off him, keeps the “shippingbusiness” to a low. But Frank knows he can’t protect them through good honestwork. When Spiros attempts to convince him to allow three boxes to go byunnoticed, he tells Frank, “They used to make steel there, no?” Port life isdying, and Frank refuses to face the fact that he may be the last of hisgeneration.

IfFrank won’t evolve his union, it may still die because of the outside pressure.While the “gang back together plot” has lost the edge from its first seasonfreshness, it is nice to see Carver and Freamon in the detail again, even ifeveryone knows the play. In Season One, there was a sense of discovery fromthese characters, each hiding their own little secrets. This episode, all weget is Herc playing “white trash” and acting smug about it the entire time.

However, McNulty continues to fightfor saving the one girl and finding her family. An immigration officer (Mr.Shill lets us see the “Department of Immigration” logo being replaced with aHomeland Security logo) asks McNulty why he’s using his spare time to solvethis case. I don’t think McNulty really knows, which only leads to a dead-endin New Jersey, but he’s fighting for something to hold on for. When we see himat his port job, we get the feeling that he knows nothing else, and thus mustcontinue to fight.

Butthis episode is packed beyond that! Donette finally visits D’Angelo in prison,attempting to bring him back into the “family business.” Stringer takes lessonsfrom his economics class in order to fix the bad product problem (“Has anyonehere ever heard of Worldcom?” he asks the soldiers). Omar preps for the Birdtrial and goes suit shopping. And Russell meets with an old fling in the hopesof turning him into a CI. It’s the accumulation of plots that makes “Undertow”one of the less interesting episodes, but also shows what David Simon and EdBurns can do. We constantly cut between story after story, without any sensethat we need of a main plot, or resolution to any of these. Instead, lifehappens.

We Need To Talk About Kevin: Mommy Issues

2011-12-11T16:21:00.001-05:00

We Need To Talk AboutKevin

Directed By: LynneRamsey

Written By: LynneRamsey and Rory Kinnear, based on the novel by Lionel Shriver

Starring: TildaSwinton, John C. Riley, Ezra Miller, Jasper Newell, Rock Duer, and AshleyGerasimovich

Director of Photography: Seamus McGarvey, Editor: Joe Bini,Production Designer: Judy Becker, Original Music: Jonny Greenwood

Rated: R fordisturbing violence and a bit of sexuality.

Thrownagainst the screen like paint against a canvas by Jackson Pollock, We Need to Talk About Kevin is a pop artexplosion of subjective destruction. Nothing is subtle in Lynne Ramsey’s firstfilm in almost a decade, its bold colors captured on screen without finesse andlayered with abstract compositions that clash against each other like runawaytrains. Ms. Ramsey’s film feels more indebted to the work of Tony Scott andMichael Bay than any art house, which may drive some out of the theaters, butits all centered around her extremely sly and brash narrative, focusing on amother and her very troubled little son.

Adaptedby Ms. Ramsey and Rory Kinnear from the novel by Lionel Shriver, We Need to Talk About Kevin follows amother in the wake of a high school killing spree. But she’s not the mother ofone of the slain children; her son is the killer. It’s tricky and what could bebanal melodramatic material for a film, but Ms. Ramsey, whose previous filmsinclude Ratcatcher and Monvern Caller, is not one to playthings simple. Ms. Shriver’s novel is a series of letters to her husbandfollowing the tragedy, and Ms. Ramsey abandons all similarity to a film that makesit the subjective experience of a mind that has been fragmented and shattered.

Suchan experimental work though needs an anchor to bring us in, and Ms. Ramseyfinds it in the shattered face of Tilda Swinton, who continues her streak as amuse for European artists. If the film’s broken structure resembles Pollock,then Ms. Swinton’s face here acts as a Rembrandt. The narrative jumpsthroughout the life of Eva, from the fallout of her own life after theaccident, and all through Kevin’s young life as she searches for the answerwhy. The question is essentially a chicken and egg question of whether she’sresponsible, or if her son Kevin is simply the result of a Rosemary’s Baby-like inevitability. When he constantly cries aroundEva as a child, is it a sign that he will always be cruel to her, or is it thefact she must bring him near jackhammer construction in order to feel release asign? Is a lie she tells her husband (John C Riley) about hurting Kevin hisfinal straw? Or perhaps the fact her husband encourages archery as a hobby forKevin is perhaps a big sign.

We Need To Talk AboutKevin eventually flows more nicely into a few narrative strings that tie thefilm together, but dialogue is minimal and the artistry of each shot continuesto play out. Splashes of blood red cover the world of Ms. Ramsey’s palette, wondrously shot by DP Seamus McGarvery and edited together by Joe Bini,from the paint someone threw against her home to a series of cans of tomatosoup she hides against. These abstract shots—off centered, out of focus, andwithout any sense of internal continuity—bring us right into the mind of Evaand her brutally tortured soul (and each could easily be framed in a museum). Eva searches for an explanation, but it becomesquite obvious that there are no answers for the explanation. Late in the film,Kevin tells us, “I think I used to know, but now I’m not so sure.”

But We Need to Talk About Kevin gives us plenty to think about after itdelivers scene after scene of complexity in how Eva approaches her motherlyduties. The film’s second shot is a bold and beautiful top down landscape of ayoung Eva fighting in the tomato war in Spain, reaching an almost orgasmic faceof happiness. Is this the essential birth of Kevin? In chaos, in disdain fororder? Or is Kevin created in order to destroy Eva’s life from the inside?

Oftenthough, Kevin can be devilishly funnyin a horrific way. Using both a score by Jonny Greenwood and an American 1950spop songs, Ms. Ramsey delights herself in her sadistic little jokes, oftensatirizing the drama (when two Mormons ask Eva where she will spend theafterlife, she calmly responds, “Oh yes! I’m going straight to hell”). A lot ofthe comedy comes from the performances of the three young boys playing Kevin,most notably Ezra Miller as the teenager. Mr. Miller is a nuanced performer whotakes big scenes and chews them up, while providing small details that fleshhis character into something that cannot be explained easily.

Ms.Shriver’s book was written in the wake of Columbine as a thoughtful approach ofa woman who analyzes every detail of both her and her son’s life as a searchfor answers. While the narrative search remains the same in Ms. Ramsey’s work,the impressionistic and vital saturation of WeNeed to Talk About Kevin transforms it from a careful examination of atouchy subject to a brash bold cinematic outpouring that takes minimal sympathyfor its characters in a way that floors you from the first moment by bringingyou inside the mind of a destructive force. Not one that destroys the youngchildren at a high school, but the one that refuses to stop a force that will.

Young Adult: Sweet Pea with a Black Inside

2011-12-11T16:11:00.001-05:00

Young Adult

Directed By:Jason Reitman

Written By:Diablo Cody

Starring:Charlize Theron, Patton Oswalt, Patrick Wilson, Elizabeth Reaser, and ColletteWolfe.

Director of Photography: Eric Steelberg, Editor: Dana E.Glauberman, Production Designer: Kevin Thompson, Original Music: Rolfe Kent

Rated: R fornasty humor from a nasty woman.

This post has been edited for a correction to a beverage the main character drinks. It is Diet Coke, not Diet Pepsi.

Inher Oscar-winning role for Monster,Chalize Theron took her gorgeous and beautiful body and made herself ugly,gaining 30 pounds and wearing prosthetic teeth. Oscar loves to reward actresseswho do something “daring,” meaning they are willing to look ugly for the camerawhile dolled up when it comes to the red carpet. But now comes Young Adult with Ms. Theron doingsomething actually daring. She’s often very beautiful in the film, dolled upwith radiant locks of golden hair and glittering skin. But even more than Monster, Ms. Theron plays a characterwho is ugly on the inside: an alcoholic, devilish, and disaster of a woman withnothing much resembling a soul.

Andthat’s the conceit of Young Adult,the new film from director Jason Reitman and writer Diablo Cody. When these twolast paired, they brought us something sweet (perhaps too sweet) with Juno, but Young Adult couldn’t be tonally more didactic. Here’s a film that isreckless in its ambition to bring us into a character that delights in thepleasures of personal vengeance and contempt for simplicity. Ms. Cody hasexplained in interviews that Young Adulthas somewhat personal connections, but in many ways, it’s a universal film forall of us who have ever left our hometowns, and want nothing more than to goback someday and slap them all across the face.

Whenwe first come upon Mavis Gary, she’s sprawled out on her bed after what must be(another) heavy night of drinking. With the Karsashians playing on television,she grabs a liter of Diet Coke to recover from her hangover, as herMinneapolis apartment lies in shambles. Her day gets interesting, however, whenshe gets an email from her old high school boyfriend. But the email from BuddySlade (Patrick Wilson) is not the type of news you want—it’s an emailannouncing the birth of his first child. With a gung-ho attitude, Mavisabandons Minneapolis to head back up state to win back the love of her life, nomatter the cost.

Mavis,however, can’t help but observe that the town of her childhood has remained ahick town with little to offer her. While she has become the closest thing to acelebrity the town has ever seen by ghost writing a set of young adult novels,everyone else has remained perfectly content in their small lives. The onlyperson she’s able to connect with is Matt, an overweight crippled nerd whom hada locker next to Mavis throughout high school. Played with a subtle dark humorby Patton Oswalt, Matt seems to be the only person in town that alsounderstands the absurdity of everyone else around him and Mavis.

Tosay, Young Adult is a pretentiousmovie might sound like a negative point, but it’s the film’s most unique attitudeand what makes it a fascinating movie. IfFargo, another Minnesota-set tale, was about the beauty of simplicity, Young Adult takes a large pitchfork andthrows it back at that idea. As much as Ms. Cody does portray Mavis as amonster with no leash, she truly identifies with someone with who would ratherrot in hell than live a clean, heavenly life. Ms. Cody is breaking into her ownid and her own desires to wave a big middle finger to those from her past.

Asmuch as that thematic detail is interesting, I wish Young Adult had a little more narrative, and didn’t leave all ofits bite for the end. Mr. Reitman captures the faces of his principles well,and lets the script’s extremely awkward exchanges feel that pain, but otherwisehe’s a non-entity in this film. Ms. Cody’s narrative sort of falls into placeever so easily, and the jumps it has to take are small to say the least. Notthat the film necessarily needs more obstacles, but its one of the rare filmsthat feels too short, as if the entire film is simply about a crucial endingsequence between Mavis and Matt’s sister (Collette Wolfe), who gives astirringly sly monologue that turns everything we thought. Young Adult seems ready with claws to tear down Mavis as a trainwreck of a person, and then in one sudden move, it reminds us that we’d ratherbe drinking our lives into oblivion with her than living a “normal,” veryboring life.

Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy: A Lone Wolf, Hunting His Own Pack

2011-12-08T10:27:00.001-05:00

Tinker Tailor SoldierSpy

Directed By:Tomas Alfredson

Written By: PeterStraughan and Bridget O’Connor, based on the novel by John le Carre

Starring: GaryOldman, Colin Firth, Toby Jones, David Dencik, Ciaran Hinds, Kathy Burke, JohnHurt, Mark Strong, Benedict Cumberbatch, and Tom Hardy.

Director of Photography: Hoyte Van Hoytema, Editor: DinoJonsater, Production Designer: Maria Djurkovic, Original Music: AlbertoIglesias

Rated: R forlanguage and some brief violence.

When itcomes to spies and the Cold War, especially across the pond in the UnitedKingdom, no name is more famous than James Bond. The Ian Fleming character issuave, sexy, dangerous, reckless, and everything the people want in theirheroes. And then there’s George Smiley, the quiet and extremely reserved heroof a trilogy of novels by Britain’s other finest, John le Carré’. In Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, Smiley nevershoots a gun, much less leave the apartments he works at. He’s not particularlycharismatic and women seem nonexistent to him. He’s not even part of MI6—he’sretired. But he gets the job done, and the job no one wants to take on.

Mr. le Carré’snovels are exacting and meticulous, and the latest adaptation of Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy attempts afaithful preservation of the spirit of his novel. Having not read the novel,nor seen the Alec Guinness led miniseries from 1979, I went into Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy with littleidea how the Cold War tale would play out. Those expecting a James Bond will beseverely disappointed, but it is in the details—the stern faces that rarelytell the truth, the subtle shifts in dialogue that unveil information, and themeticulous details of the environment that reveal secrets—that director TomasAlfredson and his truly talented crafters bring to the film that reveal a number of pleasures.

Mr.Alfredson could be considered anti-genre, but it’s a little bit of a misnomerfor what he does. Tinker Tailor SoldierSpy is a spy film in the same way his last film, the Swedish vampire story Let the Right One In, is a horror film.Mr. Alfredson is certainly interested in stories that use genre elements, buthe’s more attracted to isolation and character. George Smiley, played in acuriously minimalist performance by Gary Oldman, is at the top of the “Circus,”as British Intelligence as referred to, when he’s forced out along with the #1man, Control (John Hurt). But a phone call from a haywire agent (Tom Hardy)sends him back into the maze to find a Russian double agent at the top of theCircus, the agent being one of four top men (Colin Firth, Toby Jones, CiaranHinds, and David Dencik). Because he’s retired, Smiley can’t just walk right inwith a gun and start torturing people alaJack Bauer. Instead, he works in the shadows, drooling over papers and meetingwith those who have also been marginalized out, while using a young agent (thedashing and constantly compelling Bennet Cumberbatch) to do the dirty work.

Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy resembles lessof a spy film that it does the twisting narrative of Raul Ruiz’s Mysteries of Lisbon. This is a filmessentially about stories and events of the past, and how the small pieces canadd up to devastating results. Smiley doesn’t just listen to stories of thepast that only deepen the mystery, he watches people as well, looking for theirhints toward truth at any point, while constantly revisiting his own past fordetails as well. The dialogue plays like a more restrained version of a Mamet-insiderdrama, as the film never gives us a look from the outside, using code thatconfound on a first watch.

TinkerTailor Soldier Spy is a period film, but its one that’s ironically rich, asproduction designer Maria Djurkovic and director of photography Hoyte Van Hoyema(who also shot Let the Right One In)every shade of brown and gray possible, letting the viewer pick up the outlyingalong the way (one of the great revealing shots in the film is a pair of redsocks in unlaced shoes). Background details hide the foreground of the spies,who may be out of the game but still have every reason to hide themselves.

And because they must hidethemselves, the performances are equally restrained. Toned down and hollowedfrom almost all emotion, Mr. Alfredson reigns in his characters in the wayStanley Kubrick ever did; every line feels double sided, and any hint at anger,fear, or excitement a tell. None is better than Mr. Oldman, doing a completereversal of his bombastic self we’ve seen in films like The Professional or Sid andNancy. Hiding behind large-framed glasses and speaking not so much of asoft tongue than an absent one, Mr. Oldman constantly hides himself within theframe, shrinking into a ghost of a man as he hunts the turned agent. In themiddle of the film, he delivers a monologue about a Russian agent he tried toturn; it is his most wordy scene, but it’s the subtle physicality of Mr.Oldman, as you see him relive the moment that shows his nuance for this type ofrole.

TinkerTailor Soldier Spy’s greatest fault may be that it is tied to its spynarrative. There is a mystery to solve at the heart of it, but Mr. Alfredsonnever lets us become detectives ourselves. The four culprits are painted toobroadly to make an impression beyond the sinister things they may up to. Whenthe reveal finally comes, it’s less of a shock than a shrug, and certainmetatexual elements do somewhat give the reveal away. But the process is atleast fascinating—when Mr. Alfredson does employ the moments of “genre” we’reused to, such in a rendezvous in a café or an assignment to steal a set ofdocuments from the agency, he shows he can do thrills just like the rest ofthem, and more spine-tingly as well.

In the opening credits, the scoreby Alberto Igelsias plays for a melancholy nostalgia theme not too far removedfrom Jerry Goldsmith’s iconic score for Chinatown.In a way, that film, its brutal revision of nostalgia for a simpler time is animportant key for understanding Smiley. When talking to another former spy(Kathy Burke) who speaks lovingly of the earlier days, Smiley reminds her, “Itwas the war.” Smiley seems to take no pleasure in his process, but why? Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy’s windingnarrative is almost impossible to follow, but that shifts our focus from thedetails and eccentricities of the plot to Smiley himself. Here’s a lone wolf,hiding behind the shadows, who has both everything and nothing to hide.

Margaret and the Dragon Tattoo: Or Recent Going-Ons in Film Criticism

2011-12-06T15:49:00.001-05:00

Two bigstories relating to film critics are once again bringing up questions about therole of film criticism today. Because the world needs another piece on the state of film criticism, I found this a most dire subject to write on, though Ithink one story highlights the other, so bear with me. The two storiesindividually have been getting a lot of notoriety, one for its complete idiocyand the other for its idealistic advocacy. I’ll start with the more banal storyfirst.

If youpicked up a New Yorker yesterday andflipped to the movie section, you may have read David Denby’s review of The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, thehighly anticipated adaptation of the Stieg Larson novel from Social Network director David Fincherand produced by Scott Rudin. In publishing the review, however, Denby brokeperhaps the one big rule film critics have to follow: don’t publish yourreviews until the studio says so, a so-called “embargo.” A series of emails,published by The Playlist, follow the back and forth between Denby and Rudin, which highlight the triviality on both sides.

To befrank, the whole thing feels like a schoolyard dick-measuring contest. But Rudin’s point to Denby that the film “has been badly damaged” by the earlyreview is something to really scoff at. When you have a huge blockbuster like The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, one knowspeople are going to go to it, whether or not reviews are good. How many teenagegirls decided to skip out on Twilight:Breaking Dawn because David Edelstein gave it a middling review? Embargoson films let studios control the press on their films to give it the mostexposure, but when it comes to a film that is going to be plastered onbillboards everywhere, Rudin’s anger seems misplaced.

However,that doesn’t mean film critics don’t have their place, which brings me to thestory of Margaret, Kenneth Lonergan’sambitious masterpiece that came and went without much notice when released inSeptember. Because of the film’s legal troubles, the distributor, FoxSearchlight more or less dumped the film, while the few major trades that didreview somewhat dismissed it. But soon, other critics—Ben Keningsberg, Allison Wilmore, Matt Singer, Richard Brody, and Glen Kenny, amongothers—caught up with it during its release and herald it a masterpiece, or atleast something of merit worth more than two weeks and little advertizing. Imanaged to catch up with it during the second-to-last day of its theatricalrelease and went particularly over the moon as well.

As Margaret disappeared from existence,however, #teammargaret, a Twitter hashtag to fight for the film’s existence wasborn. The whole thing played like an inside joke for film critics until lastweek, on the eve of the film’s UK release. With raves coming from London filmcritics, including a pair of five star reviews from The Guardian and The Telegraph, Slant film criticJamie Christley launched a petition to Fox Searchlight to get the film back indiscussion by making the film accessible for critics for their end-of-yearawards. While that doesn’t necessarily help people who don’t get press invites,the wave of buzz led to staggering numbers in the United Kingdom--The Guardian reports a weekend gross of£4,595 ($7,170). “That number gave Margaretthe highest screen average of any film on release, by some margin. This,despite the film only receiving one evening showtime per day (at 8pm), due toits hefty duration of 150 minutes.” Next weekend, Searchlight has decided toexpand the film to ten screens in the UK, which rivals the entire number of screens it played in the United States.

Criticaladvocacy of making “must see films” has no real relevance when a studio likeSony Pictures has millions to spend on TheGirl With the Dragon Tattoo, but in the micro-independent world, it can bethe difference between a one screen wonder and an art house hit. PaddyConsidine’s Tyrannosaur got middlingreviews when released in the States on November 18^th, though it managed to snag a number of trophies at the British Independent Film Awardslast weekend. When I attempted to see it two weeks ago, it was pushed to asmaller theater and given two show times on Saturday: 11AM and Midnight. Smallfilms need people to champion them to say alive in this market. Film criticsare not journalists in the same way those who write about economics or politicsare supposed to be; our job is to be biased, and no more is that essential thanwhen it comes to the art house. It can be the difference between a one-weeklimited engagement and a US expansion. On a post discussing both Margaret as well as the US release ofEdward Yang’s 1991 A Brighter Summer Day,Glenn Kenny writes, “Putting Margaret, which is maybe not one of THEgreat films but is an entirely noteworthy and provocative/involving/engrossingone, on [a Top Ten List] might not only result in more people seeing andenjoying the film, not to mention maybe securing a DVD (or even Blu-ray!)release of the picture.”

So here’smy question: If Mr. Denby were not reviewing The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo early, but perhaps a film thatneeded every review to be glowing and every critic on Twitter chirping tosurvive, would the case be different? It really does change the situation,though if Denby was trying to herald a tiny film, he probably would do his bestto make sure the audience makes it there. An early review, even a positive onelike Mr. Denby’s, posted two weeks before audiences are even trying to figureout what to see, can be the difference maker in steering the conversation. Mr.Denby’s review instead feels like the critic and the magazine simply wanting tobe first on the film—advocacy need not apply. When it comes to big journalistsand big studios, these debates seem mindless and pettiness. But when it comesto the art house, often everything is on the line, and sometimes, all someoneneeds to do is say, “Have you heard of Margaret?It’s very, very good.”