Capote

Grade: A

As far as I’m concerned, Philip Seymour Hoffman has already won this year’s Academy Award. Message to the Academy: Nothing this year has even come close.

A family of four are brutally murdered on the plains of Kansas. Socialite/writer Truman Capote reads about the story in the New York Times and decides he must infiltrate the small town and write an article on the killings, which will ultimately become his groundbreaking non-fiction novel “In Cold Blood.” The tormented/tormenting existence of a megalomaniac unfolds. People are dead and it’s all about him. The town is in terrified mourning and it’s all about him. Two men are captured, jailed and tried for murder, and it’s all about him. Even as they face the hangman’s noose, it is still all about him. Hoffman is an astonishment. Not only does he capture the affectations of an iconic American figure – the voice, mannerisms, and comportment are freakily spot-on – but he finds the essence of a seriously flawed, desperately needy, intensely brilliant man.

Director Bennett Miller and screenwriter Dan Futterman have fashioned a film that lives up to the performance of its star. Instead of the formulaic cradle-to-grave biopic, by focusing on a brief period in the writer’s life we actually learn far more about him. The craven need to be the center of every party. The blazing, poetic, Herculean talent. The pathetically unquenchable hunger for adoration and approval born of a childhood of neglect and abandonment. The charmingly acerbic wit. The absolute inability to offer praise or support to anyone else in the room. The disarming humility. The pathological manipulating. The gay man dearly wanting his partner’s affection. The ability to believe his own bullshit until it becomes his own innermost truth. The profound pain and emanating sadness.

The full contradiction of a legend in his own time and mind.

As Capote is drawn slowly and inevitably into the tapestry of this true crime, he becomes the puppet-master of other people’s destinies, yet lacks any sense of self-awareness that would enable him to take control of his own. Clifton Collins Jr. creates genuine empathy as one of the convicts Capote becomes enamored by and kindred to, and we are caught off guard as the details behind the fateful night are revealed. Catherine Keener provides a moral compass as Nell Harper Lee, author of “To Kill a Mockingbird,” research assistant and friend to Capote, somehow managing to love him when he is utterly unable to love himself. Miller captures a time and place of Americana, from the wide open spaces of Kansas to the cigarette-filled rooms of NYC. Capote – the man and the film – firmly plant their feet in the heart and spirit of both these places. As Capote says of his relationship to a killer, “It’s as if we were raised in the same house. I walked out the front. He walked out the back.”

For anyone seeking a better understanding of what made the biopic “Ray” such an unrelentingly cliché ridden piece of garbage, “Capote” is a film that will explain all by comparison. It is a film that truly reveals a man’s soul.

More Movie Info: http://imdb.com/title/tt0379725/

The Squid and the Whale

Grade: A-

It’s been 28 years since my parents got divorced, and this film still triggered the shit out of me.

The things parents do to their children.

In this tragically hysterical family dramady, Laura Linney (when, oh when, will the Oscar finally be hers?) separates from husband Jeff Daniels. She struggles to let go of past ills and move forward with a shred of dignity, he bitterly clings to a fantasy while attempting to shred the past to pieces. Young actors Jesse Eisenberg and Owen Kline are superb as siblings suffering not only from the ramifications of the breakup itself, but from the manipulations, neediness and immaturity of their parents. Sides are chosen, villains and victims manufactured, allegiances wooed. Tennis and ping pong provide the perfect metaphors for two kids shuttled indiscriminately between an insufferably arrogant and self-obsessed father and a long-suffering but far from pure mother, more concerned with using their children as pawns on the separation battlefield than instilling any sense of unity or stability in their children’s lives. What information these parents choose to disclose (or not disclose) to their kids about one another’s faults, foibles and infidelities says more about their own moral strengths and failings than it does about the soon to be ex-spouses they seek to defame in their children’s eyes.

The ramifications of their behavior on their children is immediate, often terribly disturbing, and dead-on accurate. Acting out is boldly (and with surprising wit) represented in flashes of misplaced anger and blame, alcohol abuse, anti-social behavior and inappropriate sexuality. Brothers search for their own “every man for himself” life rafts while still maintaining an “us against the world” support system. It is all simultaneously anger-inducing, painfully sad – and outrageously funny.

Writer/director Noah Baumbach has fashioned an intensely personal and semi-autobiographical work that finds universality in the dirty linens families experience when relationships fall apart and parents look to their children to fill their emotional needs. The film has a low-budget look and harried feel that only adds to the overall realism. If Billy Baldwin is simply too dopey to be even marginally appealing or believable as a would be romantic interest, the rest of the cast provides some of the finest ensemble work of the year.

Children of divorce be warned – this one could put you right back into therapy.

More Movie Info: http://imdb.com/title/tt0367089/

A History of Violence

Grade: A

I have never shed tears from the sheer emotional tension of a movie before.

Viggo Mortensen gives a tour de force as a small town hero forced to deal with the ramifications of his heroism on his life and family. All may or may not be as it seems.

A level of intensity not often felt in a movie theater, exploding with graphic violence and unbalancing uncertainty, the film also succeeds as a taut, intimate family drama. Relationships change in an instant, unquestioned perceptions strangle and wither, and long repressed personality traits rush to the surface. Not since “Unfaithful” has a film so brilliantly captured the impact of blood and betrayal on adoration and stability.

Whatever else you do in the theater, it is critical to remember to breathe.

Mortensen fills the screen with gentle innocence and familial love until his family and the world he has created for himself are threatened. His performance carries a subdued edge of schizophrenia, eyes pulsating and heart quietly shredding. Maria Bello demands empathy as the supportive wife stunned by a life in question, and Ashton Holmes breaks the heart as a teenage son full of meek tenderness and surprising strengths. William Hurt deliciously nibbles the scenery and Ed Harris percolates villainy. The score by the impeccable Howard Shore drives the heart to beat even faster, yet it is moments without music that jar one the most.

Which acts of violence in the film make us cheer, make us uncomfortable, or make us flinch provide much fodder to question if there are circumstances where brutality becomes acceptable. Not for the faint of heart or weak of knees, director David Cronenberg has designed a thriller that thrills and a drama that resonates with unexpected and often unlikely wit, truth, insight and compassion.

Like most brilliant works, what fascinates most is what will happen to these people after the final credits roll.

More Movie Info: http://imdb.com/title/tt0399146/

Côte d'Azur (Crustacés et coquillages)

Grade: B

Who knew vacations on the French Riviera included so much sex, romance, cruising, and adultery? Not to mention neverending masturbation in the shower.

A family inherits a villa on the Côte d'Azur. A French/Shakespearian pastoral farce set by the water rather than in the woods, the tale is filled with mistaken identities, forbidden fruit, comic faux pas, fleeting sadness and woe, and far more permanent light-hearted joys and carnal pleasures. Parents determine their son is gay, bursting with tolerance and hoping he will open up to them about his secret – while holding tightly to secrets of their own. Children take illicit pleasure in tormenting their parents however and whenever possible. Crushes and long-standing longings abound. Sexuality is sometimes ambiguous, occasionally hidden, yet flows freely and comfortably. The women are beautiful, the men virile, the landscape stunning, and the teenagers adorable. Sea, sand and skin is everywhere one turns. What’s not to like?

And, as with all of Shakespeare’s comedies, we end our story with much singing, dancing, and festive merriment.

As for me, I’ll be spending next summer on the French Rivera.

More movie info: http://imdb.com/title/tt0428430/

Proof

Grade: B+

Mathematical genius may not seem the stuff of great drama, but subjugating one’s life to that of a needy parent + angst-driven sibling rivalry + the tightrope of budding romance x instability and insanity most assuredly is.

A young woman may have inherited her father’s predilection toward both brilliance and mental illness. This paralyzing fear cocoons her from the rest of the world – her family relationships, educational advancement, and romantic entanglements are bathed in a fragile terror masked in denial and hostility. Playwright David Auburn has beautifully calibrated his Pulitzer Prize winning play to work for the screen (only an impromptu eulogy strikes a contrived theatrical note in an otherwise naturalistic and soft-spoken text) and director John Madden has smoothly opened up the action beyond the original one-set play, juxtaposing and alternating time and place through editing rather than stage convention. While one longs for the performance original star Mary-Louise Parker might have brought to the screen, Gwyneth Paltrow convincingly replaces manic energy with tortured stillness. If the voice is occasionally shrill and the demeanor too blandly catatonic, her immobilizing dread permeates the screen. Hope Davis is a tad too much the one note obsessive compulsive controlling bitch of an older sister, but Jake Gyllenhaal adds much welcome sex appeal and tender earnestness as a math student equally smitten by his professor’s daughter and his professor’s equations. As for Anthony Hopkins, as per usual any phonebook will do.

While lacking the rhythm and music of math formulas spoken aloud so intrinsic to the play, and suffering a fraction by a pivotal question too early and unequivocally answered (which on stage was not resolved until the thrilling final moments) this intelligent tale of filial responsibility, internalized fears and accomplishments too oft left unspoken and the delicate nature of relationships is articulate, crisp, smart and affecting.

Which is saying a lot coming from someone who never got past algebra.

More Movie Info: http://imdb.com/title/tt0377107/

Everything Is Illuminated

Grade: B

Elijah Wood travels to Ukraine to thank an unknown woman in a photograph for saving his grandfather’s life during World War II. What follows is a sweet yet modest tale of the keepsakes that are waiting for us, calling out to be discovered in our lives.

A small and surreal experience, Wood is accompanied on his travels by a hip hop Ukrainian translator and the young man’s grandfather, who long ago opened a sightseeing company targeting Jews most likely searching for relatives in burial grounds scattered throughout the region. An eccentric trio, Wood views the world through obscenely large pop bottle glasses, eyes wide wide open, collecting seemingly gratuitous items in plastic bags for no immediately apparent reason. The grandfather travels with a rabid seeing eye dog even though there is nothing wrong with his vision. English is translated poorly and comically, as the merry band of misfits travel the countryside in search of a small village that seems to have disappeared off the face of the earth.

First time screenwriter/director Liev Schreiber (one of the finest stage actors around) lovingly but self-consciously unveils his story, painstakingly ensuring every shot imagined in his mind is visualized on screen. The film has an overall muted feel – laughs are warm rather than robust, horrors told are sorrowfully tender rather than heartbreakingly anguished. Color occasionally bursts forth amidst earth tones, but the journey itself rarely ignites intense passion or pathos. Not unlike a long, long drive on a vacant highway, there is something both quietly hypnotic yet ultimately tiring about the sojourn. The pilgrimage (based on a novel of the same name) feels considerably abridged, a quick jaunt lacking in regional vistas, winding roads and side trails. One is touched by its kind and quirky soul, but left wanting for the saga burning to be told within.

A story about choices one must make to survive, leaving pieces of ourselves behind to announce to the world we have lived, the things we choose not to see and the inescapability of our past, the smallness and sameness of the world in which we live. The film’s themes remind one of the superior “Sophie’s Choice,” a story far more willing to mine the depths of emotion that tortured guilt may inspire.

Illuminating, but lacking incandescence.

More Movie Info: http://imdb.com/title/tt0404030/

The Constant Gardener

Grade: B

Exceptional performances and impressive visual style enhance a rich and intriguing yet somewhat confusing and rambling screenplay. Director Fernando Meirelles boldly employs a gritty National Geographic palette filled with grainy mud tones and overexposed cold metallic grays, in a film that suffers from an equally muddy plot and coldly detaching filmmaking style.

Not that we don’t care, however, because we do. Ralph Fiennes and Rachel Weisz are charismatic and involving as a diplomat and his wife stationed in a poverty-stricken region of Northern Kenya, their passion for one another overtaken by her passion for the indigenous people and her need to protect and defend them from harm. His quest to discover the truth about her death (which we learn of in the film’s first moments) and uncover the essence of her life, proves both a murder mystery and a subtle journey of one man’s turmoil, understanding and appreciation for the woman he loves.

That the mystery uncovered never seems all that surprising in an age of corrupt government, profit over humanity, and poverty manipulated by opportunism – especially against the backdrop of recent events last week in Louisiana – may say more about one’s personal cynicism than any specific fault of the filmmaker. Yet the unfolding of events are not as compelling as they should be, and are too often undermined with standard espionage elements (the book on which the film is based was written by spy maven John le Carré, after all) which include car chases, thugs waiting behind closed doors, hidden correspondence, shocking evidence delivered in terrified whisper, and youthful computer whizzes at hand to break security codes and uncover secret information. Too many pivotal characters are offhandedly introduced, often too late and too conveniently, although some smart touches and nuanced clues are admittedly intermingled with the clichéd ones.

But it is the private, personal journey of the man that compels, and Fiennes finds anguish and awe in equal measure. His adoration for his wife slowly evolves into a profound sense of respect, as we watch a good man become an even better one. If the film had lost 20 minutes and focused more confidently on an emotional journey rather than a suspenseful one, a good film would have been an even better one as well.

More Movie Info: http://chevy.imdb.com/title/tt0387131/

Mad Hot Ballroom

Grade: B+

You’d have to be the Child Catcher from “Chitty Chitty Bang Bang” not to be charmed by the sweet gentleness and tender humor of these kids and their teachers.

Equal parts unassuming documentary and transparent public service announcement on the importance of the arts in our schools, the film is at its best simply observing kids being kids – in the classroom, in competition, and with each other. Through learning ballroom dance in four boroughs throughout New York City (what’s up with Staten Island?) kids also learn the value of practice and dedication, proper etiquette and behavior, teamwork and self-esteem. They also talk and giggle about the opposite sex, show utter mortification at having to make real eye-contact with their partners, cheer unabashedly when they succeed, cry and gripe openly in the face of defeat, compliment and support one another, and ultimately learn how to take things in stride. It is that time in one’s life when every dream is possible, when winning the chance to compete is assuredly the first step toward a lifelong career. Watching the intense desire of some teachers to win the big trophy and listening to these kids size up their opponents and make off-handed philosophical comments (“I judge girls by their inner beauty and outer beauty, but mostly by their inner”) is ingratiating and often very funny. One kid’s comments on gay marriage are simply priceless.

We don’t learn very much about these kids as individuals outside of the classroom (unlike the far more thoughtful “Spellbound” of a few years ago) and statements about how dance has saved some of them from almost certain criminality are more than a little heavy-handed. The film also focuses so heavily on one specific team it becomes impossible to assess how they compare with others, forcing us to root for one team and one team only. And it would have been nice had the likes of Broadway legend Ann Reinking been acknowledged for the non-theater queens who probably didn’t realize some rather important judges were in the house. But to see the joyous pride in the eyes of so many parents, the love and care these teachers carry with them into their makeshift ballrooms, and to know these kids have been given a gift they will carry with them for the rest of their lives goes a long way to make one smile and warm one’s heart.

More Movie Info: http://chevy.imdb.com/title/tt0438205/