Although this year has many a pundit in a tizzy about not only which films will be nominated for the Best Picture prize, but how many. In the first year of a fluid number of Best Picture nominees, one would expect more excitement. For a while there, before The Artist's official frontrunner position was writ-large over the critics and many other voting bodies, it seemed like an open race. But the die, it appears, has been cast and things will go the way of The Artist, which is what many were saying in the first place before they had any "evidence" to support the notion. As I have stated before, I have no problems with The Artist, a film I enjoyed quite a bit. I guess my lack of enthusiasm stems from my lack of a real dog in the eventual Best Picture race. It wasn't a bad year for movies or even a bad year for Oscar movies, necessarily (save The Descendants...more on that later). It was certainly a middling year for the latter. As a cinema enthusiast, I admired Hugo well enough to grade it a "B" when I first saw it. As time passes and I consider Scorsese's latest offering, I do find myself somewhat baffled by its prominence in this year's awards race as it is not without its significant problems, both narratively and stylistically. At any rate, here are my predictions.
Best Picture
1. The Artist (lock)
2. The Descendants (lock)
3. Hugo (lock)
4. The Help (probable)
5. Midnight in Paris (probable)
6. Moneyball (shaky)
7. Bridesmaids (somewhat wildcard)
Likely to Spoil: War Horse, The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, The Tree of Life, Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy
As my above predictions indicate, I think we're looking at seven best picture nominees. I am going out on a rather big limb and predicting Bridesmaids as the seventh nominee. Before you tell me how crazy I am, consider the guild support for Bridesmaids (PGA, WGA, SAG, ACE, ADG, CDG, plus probably a few more that I'm forgetting). It's considerably more than War Horse has gotten, so I suspect that it gets left off in a year where a film needs five percent number one votes to land a slot. Also, this isn't the 1980s. That's the last time Steven Spielberg was able to get into the Best Picture race without a corresponding nod for his direction. Despite claims that AMPAS loves him, they tend to be all or nothing where he's concerned. Regarding The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, which has gotten guild nods from the big four (PGA, WGA, DGA and ACE), it's obviously a bigger threat than any of us thought. How much of this is residual guilt for last year's about-face that turned the tide from The King's Speech to The Social Network is up for debate. I do suspect that the guild love for Dragon Tattoo will help it, if not necessarily in Best Picture.
Best Director
1. Michel Hazanavicius - The Artist (lock)
2. Martin Scorsese - Hugo (lock)
3. Alexander Payne - The Descendants (lock)
4. Woody Allen - Midnight in Paris (probable)
5. Tate Taylor - The Help (wildcard)
Likely to Spoil: David Fincher (The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo), Bennett Miller (Moneyball), Steven Spielberg (War Horse), Terrence Malick (The Tree of Life), Nicolas Winding Refn (Drive)
Tate Taylor is the big question mark here, which gets to the question of how much will the Academy really love The Help? Call me crazy, but when a film has such solid guild support as The Help, it's silly to not consider it even a threat for Best Director. Lest we forget that Marc Forster, Bill Condon and Sean Penn all got up early on Oscar nomination morning (well, maybe not Sean Penn). Then it was Mike Leigh, Paul Greengrass and Jason Reitman who were awoken by phone calls from agents, cutting short what I'm sure they assumed would be a morning of uninterrupted sleeping in. My point is, there are always kinks to be seen and I do have a feeling about Tate Taylor. It may seem insane, but is there really an abundance of sound logic in instead predicting Steven Spielberg, whose film has been largely shut out by the key guilds? Or Terrence Malick, whose film I love and who certainly engenders respect in the directing branch, but at the end of the day, may have crafted something too self-consciously esoteric for the straight-laced Academy? Even when he somewhat surprisingly got in for The Thin Red Line, there was a corresponding DGA nod to predict it. Plus, it's not like Malick would show up if they nominated him anyway. Really, from where I'm sitting, David Fincher is the only one who you can justifiably put ahead of Tate Taylor in that he's in the club and has the guild support to boot. Yes, Tate Taylor is a newbie, but if they love the film (ie. Jason Reitman's suprise nod for Juno), anything can happen.
Best Actor in a Leading Role
1. George Clooney - The Descendants (lock)
2. Jean Du Jardin - The Artist (lock)
3. Brad Pitt - Moneyball (lock)
4. Michael Fassbender - Shame (probable)
5. Gary Oldman - Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy (wildcard)
Likely to Spoil: Leonardo DiCaprio (J. Edgar), Michael Shannon (Take Shelter), Ryan Gosling (Drive), Demian Bichir (A Better Life)
My reasons for omitting DiCaprio, but keeping Fassbender may seem contradictory. I'm chucking DiCaprio because his movie was so poorly reviewed and it seems so quiet right now for him. He's hit many of the precursors thus far, but where's the heat? Where's the passion? Michael Fassbender may seem quiet too and he did miss SAG, which might prove to be the death knell in hindsight should he miss at AMPAS. I think Fassbender's charm, his cinematic ubiquity in 2011 combined with the performance itself puts him in for a "We're happy you're getting famous" nomination that even Academy members who neglected to pop in their Shame screeners won't feel badly about. They already gave one of those nods to Michael Shannon back in 2008 and given the general lack of real buzz surrounding Take Shelter, I doubt they'll feel compelled to oblige him again, though many are predicting such an outcome. Ryan Gosling had a high-profile year as well, following up his career-best performance in Blue Valentine. In a weaker year, he'd have a shot for either Drive or The Ides of March. Let me rephrase. In a year where a weak performance like George Clooney's wasn't so solidly in the five, Gosling might have a chance. But, as it stands, the top three are looking good to go and your winner will likely come from that list of names. I'm just praying it's not Clooney. Not just to beat up on The Descendants, but because Brad Pitt is so good and so understated in Moneyball. And Du Jardin is so charismatic and committed in The Artist. And (back to beating up on The Descendants for just a moment), isn't Clooney's unremarkable, autopilot, death-rattle of a performance exactly the type of turn we should avoid rewarding to an actor of his considerable talents, lest we encourage more unimaginative and facile project choices for him in the future? Basically, I'm saying less The Descendants and Up in the Airs, more Michael Claytons, please.
Best Actress in a Leading Role
1. Viola Davis - The Help (lock)
2. Meryl Streep - The Iron Lady (lock)
3. Michelle Williams - My Week With Marilyn (lock)
4. Tilda Swinton - We Need to Talk About Kevin (probable)
5. Rooney Mara - The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo (shaky)
Likely to Spoil: Glenn Close (Albert Nobbs), Charlize Theron (Young Adult), Kristen Wiig (Bridesmaids)
I'm very tempted to put Close in over Swinton, whose role is tricky and even fans of hers doubt that she really pulled it off. I could also see Close replacing Mara, who is a late surge in the race, is absent from much of her movie and (rumor has it) is anything but warm and fuzzy on the press circuit. But, Swinton stays because she's hit all the major precursors (Globes, SAG, BFCA, BAFTA and an NBR win to boot). Also, Tilda Swinton is uber-personable, despite her seemingly impenetrably "weird" persona and a lot of people like her, even if they aren't going to rush to pop in their Kevin screeners. If the guild support for The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo is going to help anyone, it's Rooney Mara. This category rarely lacks a PYT and if it can't be Elizabeth Olsen or Kirsten Dunst, I'll predict Mara and just be glad it's not Felicity Jones (Like Crazy). Given the at best tepid response to Albert Nobbs, I see no reason to put her in ahead of either of these women, though she could obviously get in there simply for the respect her name still commands. The win is likely down to Davis vs. Streep. For a while, it looked like a three woman race with Michelle Williams getting her fair share of critical citations. After her gracious, but hardly gushing or effusive Golden Globes speech last weekend, I don't think people are eager to hand her the win just yet. To that, I say fine. I haven't seen My Week With Marilyn, but for an actress as interesting and versatile as Williams to go down in the history books as winning an Oscar for a Marilyn Monroe biopic seems wrong somehow. After 2010's banner year in Best Actress (seriously, take a gander again. What a phenomenal list of performances and roles), it's a little hard to get truly excited about this lineup, however it happens to shake down. There are really two things keeping my favorite Oscar category salvageable in terms of my own overwhelming enthusiasm. Finally (knock on wood) seeing Swinton as a lead actress nominee without having sanded her edges to get there and that they may award Viola Davis the statue. Kristen Wiig would certainly be an exciting, if not necessarily worthy choice. But, since they are likely to give her a screenplay nod, that may have to suffice as her reward. Charlize Theron really should have been more solidly in there, not just because she's so good in Young Adult, but because she's campaigned so well. A perfect mixture of enthusiasm, gratitude and humor, without seeming desperate. I sincerely hope that Kirsten Dunst (Melancholia) and Elizabeth Olsen (Martha, Marcy, May, Marlene) don't take the awards season cold shoulder as a sign that they should stop challenging themselves with great performances in prickly, difficult parts. March on, ladies. I'm in your corner.
Best Actor in a Supporting Role
1. Christopher Plummer - Beginners (lock)
2. Albert Brooks - Drive (lock)
3. Kenneth Branagh - My Week With Marilyn (lock)
4. Jonah Hill - Moneyball (probable)
5. Brad Pitt - The Tree of Life (shaky)
Likely to Spoil: Nick Nolte (Warrior), Patton Oswalt (Young Adult), Viggo Mortensen (The Dangerous Method)
I think this is the lineup, honestly. Despite the fact that there has been relative fluidity in terms of the precursor rosters (give an Armie Hammer here or take an Andy Serkis there), there does seem to be lack of real spoilers who could jump into the race at this point. Although Brad Pitt hasn't been cited for The Tree of Life anywhere, I do believe that he's always been comfortably on the outside as a just miss in many of those cases. He is very beloved in Hollywood, as evidenced by how he always escapes unscathed in the tiredly retreaded Jolie vs. Aniston debate. He's excellent in both The Tree of Life and Moneyball (in that order) and I'm hoping what would be a relatively surprising double-nomination is what it takes to push him ahead of George Clooney in Best Actor. Plummer looks good on paper for a win that, despite my love for the performance and film, baffles me. In an expanded Best Picture field, Beginners has failed to catch fire in any other category and yet Plummer is solidly in there for the trophy? The math doesn't add up for me and I still think that Albert Brooks could upset at the end of the day.
Best Actress in a Supporting Role
1. Octavia Spencer - The Help (lock)
2. Berenice Bejo - The Artist (lock)
3. Jessica Chastain - The Help (lock)
4. Shailene Woodley - The Descendants (probable)
5. Melissa McCarthy - Bridesmaids (probable)
Likely to Spoil: Janet McTeer (Albert Nobbs) and...really, not much else. Sorry, Vanessa Redgrave.
Again, what once seemed like a wide-open race has firmed up nicely. Spencer is looking more and more like the frontrunner for the win and the other two are locks. Chastain hardly seems like a lock to many and I'm hearing pundits dusting off the old "vote splitting may hurt her" theory, which rarely happens in practice. I think she's in and she's a lock for two reasons. Firstly, despite being everywhere this year, the voting bodies have clearly rallied around The Help as the Chastain performance d'annee. Does anyone think her work in Take Shelter, The Debt or even The Tree of Life for that matter are really going to be pulling that many votes away from the machine that is The Help? Secondly, regarding vote-splitting with Octavia, I'm going to give you some years. 2000, 2001, 2002*, 2006, 2008, 2009, 2010*. Those are the years where two people from the same film managed to get nominated in supporting actress. It's happened more often in the past ten years than it hasn't happened, with asterisks next to the years where one of the actresses won the trophy. Know your history, pundits. It's not that difficult. Shailene will likely ride The Descendants train to a nomination, though I'd gladly give her the boot. Would it be for Janet McTeer, whose film I haven't seen? I can't say at this point. Like Close, I think McTeer will suffer from the lack of enthusiasm surrounding Albert Nobbs and come up empty on nomination morning. Since I'm predicting Bridesmaids for a Best Picture nomination, it doesn't make sense to exclude Melissa McCarthy, who even managed a BAFTA nomination. On the outside of these six contenders are Vanessa Redgrave and Carey Mulligan, neither of which has any real shot, though I'd love to see Mulligan get in.
Coming Next: Screenplays and Other Below the Line Predictions...
Thursday, January 19, 2012
A Break in Our Regulalry Scheduled Programming...Or Rather, Some Programming
The Pretentious Know it All is alive and well. Rather than doing the usual apology about my long absence and how I fully intend to blog more regularly (which I do), let's discuss the game plan.
Firstly, I have every noble intention of completing my Best of the 2000s series. Expect to see that in the coming weeks, as I am not merely publishing the list (as you can tell if you've been reading it...to the one person out there who reads my blog). It is a painstaking, albeit reward task, not just to do a write-up of one of the films from every grouping of ten on my top 100 list, but deciding which film to cover? Oy vey. These are my favorite films of the decade, each one in its own complicated way very near and dear to my heart and I can't wait to share more.
Secondly, the fourth annual Pretentious Film Awards (Fourth!) are fully under way. The nominees have mostly been selected, though I still have a few films from 2011 left to watch. Full disclosure, my list of films seen in 2011 is slightly thinner than in previous years due to factors I won't bore you with here. I have not seen My Week With Marilyn, The Iron Lady, Carnage, Albert Nobbs, War Horse, J. Edgar or The Ides of March (though I did read the script for The Ides of March last summer). Though each of the previous films may factor into the Oscar race, though to what degree is being hotly contested on all counts, I no huge rush to see them in order for me to cite my personal favorites. As lazy and patently unadventurous as it sounds, nothing I've heard about any of these titles qualifies them as urgent viewing in my book, outside of their supposed awards potential.
Conversely, there are a lot of films from 2011 that I am genuinely sad to have missed in time for this year's Pretentious Film Awards, though I do plan on viewing them as soon as possible. For reasons, both complicated and uncomplicated, I was unable to see (in descending order of personal excitement/enthusiasm) Margaret, A Separation, Pariah, Poetry, Submarine, Attack the Block, Potiche, A Dangerous Method, Pina and Jane Eyre. As one of my resolutions for the new year is to write more, this blog included, I will surely make every effort to watch these films and any and every film I can get my hands on and write about them year round. You will be hearing from me. I can assure you of that.
Thirdly (and lastly) regarding my year end film awards, be prepared for what might be the most off-consensus year I've had yet in terms of the general landscape of film awards. Despite this blog's title, this is a rather dubious claim to fame and not one I was planning in the slightest. Consider 2010, where my top ten list included four of the eventual Best Picture nominees (and my feelings were generally warm about the entire ten). Regarding my list, I must reiterate again (not that film criticism should ever include "defense" of one's taste in the strictest sense of the word) that I am not, nor have I ever feinted left to go right in terms of my cinematic proclivities. For instance, although The Artist, our probably Best Picture winner at this point, does not appear on my top ten list, I have no real objections to its eventual victory in the Oscar race. I will delve more into these thoughts when I review most of the films I saw in 2011 over the next few days. You'll hear me weigh in on the heavily debated politics of The Help. You'll learn why I gave a "D+" to The Descendants, a film so seemingly innocuous that, even if it weren't your cup of tea, one wonders how anyone could ever possibly feel so passionately against it to award it such a low grade. All will be revealed.
So, as I often say, I look forward to sharing more of my thoughts here on this blog, which (though it has been sporadic) I'm happy to have kept up with for the past four years.
Peace, Love and Pretension.
Firstly, I have every noble intention of completing my Best of the 2000s series. Expect to see that in the coming weeks, as I am not merely publishing the list (as you can tell if you've been reading it...to the one person out there who reads my blog). It is a painstaking, albeit reward task, not just to do a write-up of one of the films from every grouping of ten on my top 100 list, but deciding which film to cover? Oy vey. These are my favorite films of the decade, each one in its own complicated way very near and dear to my heart and I can't wait to share more.
Secondly, the fourth annual Pretentious Film Awards (Fourth!) are fully under way. The nominees have mostly been selected, though I still have a few films from 2011 left to watch. Full disclosure, my list of films seen in 2011 is slightly thinner than in previous years due to factors I won't bore you with here. I have not seen My Week With Marilyn, The Iron Lady, Carnage, Albert Nobbs, War Horse, J. Edgar or The Ides of March (though I did read the script for The Ides of March last summer). Though each of the previous films may factor into the Oscar race, though to what degree is being hotly contested on all counts, I no huge rush to see them in order for me to cite my personal favorites. As lazy and patently unadventurous as it sounds, nothing I've heard about any of these titles qualifies them as urgent viewing in my book, outside of their supposed awards potential.
Conversely, there are a lot of films from 2011 that I am genuinely sad to have missed in time for this year's Pretentious Film Awards, though I do plan on viewing them as soon as possible. For reasons, both complicated and uncomplicated, I was unable to see (in descending order of personal excitement/enthusiasm) Margaret, A Separation, Pariah, Poetry, Submarine, Attack the Block, Potiche, A Dangerous Method, Pina and Jane Eyre. As one of my resolutions for the new year is to write more, this blog included, I will surely make every effort to watch these films and any and every film I can get my hands on and write about them year round. You will be hearing from me. I can assure you of that.
Thirdly (and lastly) regarding my year end film awards, be prepared for what might be the most off-consensus year I've had yet in terms of the general landscape of film awards. Despite this blog's title, this is a rather dubious claim to fame and not one I was planning in the slightest. Consider 2010, where my top ten list included four of the eventual Best Picture nominees (and my feelings were generally warm about the entire ten). Regarding my list, I must reiterate again (not that film criticism should ever include "defense" of one's taste in the strictest sense of the word) that I am not, nor have I ever feinted left to go right in terms of my cinematic proclivities. For instance, although The Artist, our probably Best Picture winner at this point, does not appear on my top ten list, I have no real objections to its eventual victory in the Oscar race. I will delve more into these thoughts when I review most of the films I saw in 2011 over the next few days. You'll hear me weigh in on the heavily debated politics of The Help. You'll learn why I gave a "D+" to The Descendants, a film so seemingly innocuous that, even if it weren't your cup of tea, one wonders how anyone could ever possibly feel so passionately against it to award it such a low grade. All will be revealed.
So, as I often say, I look forward to sharing more of my thoughts here on this blog, which (though it has been sporadic) I'm happy to have kept up with for the past four years.
Peace, Love and Pretension.
Saturday, August 27, 2011
The Best Films of the Aughts (60-69)
69. Talk to Her - dir. Pedro Almodóvar (2002)
"A woman’s brain is a mystery, and in this state even more so. You have to pay attention to women, talk to them, be thoughtful occasionally. Caress them. Remember they exist, they’re alive and they matter to us. That’s the only therapy. I know from experience."
68. Sherrybaby - dir. Laurie Collyer (2006)
"Lord please please please please please hear my extra prayer tonight. Forgive me my weaknesses and my mistakes. Give me the strength to take life one day at a time and take care of my daughter again. Amen."
67. The Savages - dir. Tamra Jenkins (2007)
"People are dying, Wendy! Right inside that beautiful building. Right now! It’s a fucking horror show! And all this wellness propaganda and landscaping is just trying to obscure the miserable fact that people die and death is gaseous and gruesome and filled with piss and shit and rot and stink."
66. Lost in Translation - dir. Sofia Coppola (2003)
"Let's never come here again because it will never be as much fun."
Spotlight--65. Erin Brockovich - dir. Steven Soderbergh (2000)
"Well, um, seeing as how I have no brains or legal expertise, and Ed here was losing all faith in the system, am I right? I just went out there and performed sexual favors. Six hundred and thirty-four blow jobs in five days... I'm really quite tired."
It's a serendipitous and wonderful thing when a movie star is celebrated for a star turn, deserving of all accolades and hyperbole, that seems to steamroll through all awards season precursors all the way to the podium on Oscar night. So rarely does it happen this way, particularly in the Best Actress category. There often seems to be a finely tuned mix of people's actual response to said performance and another, hard to pinpoint x-factor of "something else" that leads to people winning the Best Actress trophy.
Why have I begun my write-up of 2000's Erin Brockovich by bringing up the Best Actress race? Because (and I may be misreading the climate) it seems to be a widely held view that Julia Roberts coasted to an easy victory that she didn't deserve, or at the very least should have been met with more resistance (out come the Ellen Burstyn fans, complete with their torches and pitchforks). Eleven years later, I am proud to throw my full, weighty support, not just behind Roberts's radiant and accomplished turn, but the film itself. I worry that even fans of Julia's work here may write off the film as a feel-good trifle/bloated whistle-blower picture, all the while completely ignoring how richly Roberts and the film serve each other.
We open with a wonderful sequence of finely spliced together monologues by Erin (Julia Roberts), who is on the painstakingly difficult hunt for a job. In those early moments, we learn nearly all we need to about Erin Brockovich to warrant serious investment in this character. A little self-effacing, but intelligent. Wry, yet totally aware of the seriousness of her circumstances. It's quiet, unfussy and consistently on-character work in these first minutes that allow for the big meaty moments later on where Erin lets her frustration/lack of practical training get the better of her. On paper, all of this could read incredibly obvious and facile, but Roberts layers all of the elements beautifully, never forgetting one, when the scene mostly calls for the other. She has never been better, before or since. I say that not to denigrate Julia Roberts, who I actually like. I think that for any performer, her turn in Erin Brockovich is a tough thing to top. Her string of roles after this stunner don't really seem to be utilizing her talents appropriately, though the missteps are certainly understandable (Closer aside, in which I actually think Mike Nichols got some very interesting notes out of her). Her post-Brockovich directors, even Steven Soderbergh himself, seem content to saddle her with either large, external affectation (Charlie Wilson's War) or attempt to play on her stardom and her public persona in ways that are transparent in how commercially minded they are (Eat, Pray, Love). What I love about what Steven Soderbergh gets out of Roberts here is that he enhances so much about what already works about her as a performer--her comedic undertones, her sassiness, her accessible beauty and her warmth--while still fashioning a fascinating character that feels neither cloying nor obtusely against type.
Erin Brockovich is predictable, make no mistake. Even without knowing the details of the "true story" of how a plucky legal secretary took down a major corporation, one can probably guess with great accuracy where the film is headed. What we have here is an example of how dedication/investment in the craft of filmmaking can elevate even the most simple and seemingly rote of stories. Take, for example the scene of Erin describing her past as a beauty queen to George (Aaron Eckhart) in a fun, yet character-deepening scene of post-coital conversation. Would one have read that scene on the page and seen the frisky, creative editing or how the camera knows exactly during which moments to get close to Erin and George?
Not to take anything away from Susannah Grant's script, which is accomplished and serviceable and filled with great one-liners to boot ("Bite my ass, Krispy Kreme!" It just rolls off the tongue...). But I can't help but feel that there a more pedestrian version of this film could have easily existed, perhaps made for television, perhaps directed theatrically by the likes of Ron Howard, Stephen Frears or Tom Hooper. If we must have biopics and straight-down-the-middle narratives (and from Hollywood's output, apparently we must) why can't they all be as specific and well-crafted as this?
64. The 40-Year-Old Virgin - dir. Judd Apatow (2005)
"You know when you, like...you grab a woman's breast and it's...and you feel it and...it feels like a bag of sand when you're touching it?"
63. Paranoid Park - dir. Gus Van Sant (2008)
"I just feel like there's something outside of normal life. Outside of teachers, breakups, girlfriends. Like, right out there, like outside - there's like different levels of... stuff."
62. The Class - dir. Laurent Cantet (2008)
"I'm Souleymane. I have nothing to say about me because no one knows me but me."ˆ
61. Once - dir. John Carney (2007)
"During the daytime people would want to hear songs that they know, just songs that they recognize. I play these song at night or I wouldn't make any money. People wouldn't listen."
60. The Bourne Ultimatum - dir. Paul Greengrass (2007)
"It was difficult for me...with you."
"A woman’s brain is a mystery, and in this state even more so. You have to pay attention to women, talk to them, be thoughtful occasionally. Caress them. Remember they exist, they’re alive and they matter to us. That’s the only therapy. I know from experience."
68. Sherrybaby - dir. Laurie Collyer (2006)
"Lord please please please please please hear my extra prayer tonight. Forgive me my weaknesses and my mistakes. Give me the strength to take life one day at a time and take care of my daughter again. Amen."
67. The Savages - dir. Tamra Jenkins (2007)
"People are dying, Wendy! Right inside that beautiful building. Right now! It’s a fucking horror show! And all this wellness propaganda and landscaping is just trying to obscure the miserable fact that people die and death is gaseous and gruesome and filled with piss and shit and rot and stink."
66. Lost in Translation - dir. Sofia Coppola (2003)
"Let's never come here again because it will never be as much fun."
Spotlight--65. Erin Brockovich - dir. Steven Soderbergh (2000)
"Well, um, seeing as how I have no brains or legal expertise, and Ed here was losing all faith in the system, am I right? I just went out there and performed sexual favors. Six hundred and thirty-four blow jobs in five days... I'm really quite tired."
It's a serendipitous and wonderful thing when a movie star is celebrated for a star turn, deserving of all accolades and hyperbole, that seems to steamroll through all awards season precursors all the way to the podium on Oscar night. So rarely does it happen this way, particularly in the Best Actress category. There often seems to be a finely tuned mix of people's actual response to said performance and another, hard to pinpoint x-factor of "something else" that leads to people winning the Best Actress trophy.
Why have I begun my write-up of 2000's Erin Brockovich by bringing up the Best Actress race? Because (and I may be misreading the climate) it seems to be a widely held view that Julia Roberts coasted to an easy victory that she didn't deserve, or at the very least should have been met with more resistance (out come the Ellen Burstyn fans, complete with their torches and pitchforks). Eleven years later, I am proud to throw my full, weighty support, not just behind Roberts's radiant and accomplished turn, but the film itself. I worry that even fans of Julia's work here may write off the film as a feel-good trifle/bloated whistle-blower picture, all the while completely ignoring how richly Roberts and the film serve each other.
We open with a wonderful sequence of finely spliced together monologues by Erin (Julia Roberts), who is on the painstakingly difficult hunt for a job. In those early moments, we learn nearly all we need to about Erin Brockovich to warrant serious investment in this character. A little self-effacing, but intelligent. Wry, yet totally aware of the seriousness of her circumstances. It's quiet, unfussy and consistently on-character work in these first minutes that allow for the big meaty moments later on where Erin lets her frustration/lack of practical training get the better of her. On paper, all of this could read incredibly obvious and facile, but Roberts layers all of the elements beautifully, never forgetting one, when the scene mostly calls for the other. She has never been better, before or since. I say that not to denigrate Julia Roberts, who I actually like. I think that for any performer, her turn in Erin Brockovich is a tough thing to top. Her string of roles after this stunner don't really seem to be utilizing her talents appropriately, though the missteps are certainly understandable (Closer aside, in which I actually think Mike Nichols got some very interesting notes out of her). Her post-Brockovich directors, even Steven Soderbergh himself, seem content to saddle her with either large, external affectation (Charlie Wilson's War) or attempt to play on her stardom and her public persona in ways that are transparent in how commercially minded they are (Eat, Pray, Love). What I love about what Steven Soderbergh gets out of Roberts here is that he enhances so much about what already works about her as a performer--her comedic undertones, her sassiness, her accessible beauty and her warmth--while still fashioning a fascinating character that feels neither cloying nor obtusely against type.
Erin Brockovich is predictable, make no mistake. Even without knowing the details of the "true story" of how a plucky legal secretary took down a major corporation, one can probably guess with great accuracy where the film is headed. What we have here is an example of how dedication/investment in the craft of filmmaking can elevate even the most simple and seemingly rote of stories. Take, for example the scene of Erin describing her past as a beauty queen to George (Aaron Eckhart) in a fun, yet character-deepening scene of post-coital conversation. Would one have read that scene on the page and seen the frisky, creative editing or how the camera knows exactly during which moments to get close to Erin and George?
Not to take anything away from Susannah Grant's script, which is accomplished and serviceable and filled with great one-liners to boot ("Bite my ass, Krispy Kreme!" It just rolls off the tongue...). But I can't help but feel that there a more pedestrian version of this film could have easily existed, perhaps made for television, perhaps directed theatrically by the likes of Ron Howard, Stephen Frears or Tom Hooper. If we must have biopics and straight-down-the-middle narratives (and from Hollywood's output, apparently we must) why can't they all be as specific and well-crafted as this?
64. The 40-Year-Old Virgin - dir. Judd Apatow (2005)
"You know when you, like...you grab a woman's breast and it's...and you feel it and...it feels like a bag of sand when you're touching it?"
63. Paranoid Park - dir. Gus Van Sant (2008)
"I just feel like there's something outside of normal life. Outside of teachers, breakups, girlfriends. Like, right out there, like outside - there's like different levels of... stuff."
62. The Class - dir. Laurent Cantet (2008)
"I'm Souleymane. I have nothing to say about me because no one knows me but me."ˆ
61. Once - dir. John Carney (2007)
"During the daytime people would want to hear songs that they know, just songs that they recognize. I play these song at night or I wouldn't make any money. People wouldn't listen."
60. The Bourne Ultimatum - dir. Paul Greengrass (2007)
"It was difficult for me...with you."
Sunday, July 24, 2011
The Best Films of the Aughts (70-79)
79. WALL-E - dir. Andrew Stanton (2008)
"Computer. Define 'dancing'."
78. Fish Tank - dir. Andrea Arnold (2009)
"You dance like a black. It's a compliment."
77. Reprise - dir. Joachim Trier (2008)
"We're supposed to write and read. And if we feel the urge we'll practice deviant, fetishistic sex with prostitutes."
76. Million Dollar Baby - dir. Clint Eastwood (2004)
"Mama, you take Mardell and JD and get home before I tell that lawyer there that you were so worried about your welfare you never signed those house papers like you were supposed to. So anytime I feel like it I can sell that house from under your fat, lazy, hillbilly ass. And if you ever come back, that's exactly what I'll do."
75. The Cell - dir. Tarsem Singh (2000)
"My World. My Rules."
Spotlight--74. Raising Victor Vargas - dir. Peter Sollett (2003)
"Listen. I'm a private person. What we do is between me and you. You still want this loving, right?"
Peter Sollett's jolting, vibrant and energetic tale of adolescent love and folly abounds with discovery nearly at every turn. Nearly every one of the principle players (with the exception of under-the-radar Indie queen Melonie Diaz) makes his or her feature film debut here. Peter Sollett announced himself as a powerful and interesting new cinematic voice. An aside: I have yet to watch his 2008 follow-up, the relatively high profile Nick and Nora's Infinite Playlist. Should I?
At first glance, this would appear to be exactly the type of cinematic outing designed to bore the shit out of movie-watcher who complains about what is perceived to be the current trend of meandering, navel-gazing independent cinema, heralded as brilliant and cutting-edge by the flannel clad temp at your office (stay with me). I sympathize with this frustration, often siding with it. In my brief write-up of Winter's Bone, I talked about an air of human truth that's sometimes hard to pinpoint, but adds such richness to a great movie. There wasn't a moment of Raising Victor Vargas that felt false or playing to my very contrary, untested perceptions of twenty-first century life in the Lower East Side for these characters.
Victor Vargas (a fabulous Victor Rasuk) speaks the line quoted above. It is one of the first lines uttered in this film and it lets you know that you are in capable hands. Victor Vargas drips with a confident, slightly insular teenage male bravado that permeates everything from his words to his gestures. But what, if anything, is it masking? And why is Judy (Judy Marte), the wise girl he chases after seem more put off by Victor than any of the other boys in her neighborhood? Especially given that one young man candidly offers Judy anal sex in a manner that can only be described as less than chivalrous. These are questions that are answered by last frame. Victor is confident, yes. But the confidence he wears is something akin to a fancy pair of shoes worn by a newborn baby. Shiny and new, certainly. But Victor is still forming, still growing, still becoming himself and he may discover one day soon that his own self-perceived greatness may not fit the person he ultimately becomes. And Judy, for all of her womanly wisdom, for all of her desire to be anything but just another notch in the bedpost of one of the many boys who wish to bed her, really does like Victor. Sounds like your run-of-the-mill romantic comedy, doesn't it? Perhaps it does. But Raising Victor Vargas is anything but.
I spoke, very briefly, about Melonie Diaz. Like many of the actors in the film, she shares her character's first name. In a storyline that exists almost completely parallel to everything else in the film, Melonie (Judy's best friend) falls for one of Victor's chums, the sweet but somewhat cocky Harold (Kevin Rivera). Melonie and Harold's courtship is different than that of Victor and Judy. She is resistant and he is persistent, but not in the same ways and not for the same reasons. Melonie keeps what becomes a very deep, meaningful relationship with Harold a secret from Judy for most of the film. She is desperate to avoid Judy's judgmental stares and comments, not because they would influence her greatly, but because with a look in her eyes and a small gesture, Diaz lets you know that Melonie knows exactly how it's going to turn out and she's already kind of rolling her eyes. I've noticed this consistency in many of Melonie Diaz's performances. She seems naturally aplomb at playing that character who "gets it" just a little bit more than all the other characters around her, who are a a little slow on the uptake. It is a small performance that betrays how integral Diaz's watchfulness and knack for conveying teenage conflict is to the film.
While the Lower East Side of Manhattan has become somewhat of a gentrified hipster haven, that is not the Lower East Side presented in this film. That being the case, it's rife for poverty porn, but Peter Sollett wisely resists the urge to make this a story about a group of minority youths trapped by their circumstances. Or rather, he resists to urge to tell that tired story in the rote, pedestrian fashion that has become all too familiar. The neighborhood is replete with life and there is a youthful innocence and a playfulness that runs throughout Raising Victor Vargas. These are not wealthy people, but, like all young people, they live in and engage with their surroundings.
A key element that lets the viewer know that this is not a typical story of inner-city youths and strife is Victor's grandmother, Altagracia (played by Altagracia Guzman). She is hard on Victor, constantly demanding he set a good example for his younger brother and younger sister. She gifts the movie with soft, maternal humor that is steeped in obliviousness and a clinging to the old guard. At one point, she takes Victor down to social services, probably just to scare him, with the stated intention of turning him over to foster care as punishment for his wild ways and misbehavior. Why? Because she has caught Victor's brother Nino (Victor Rasuk's real life younger brother, Silvestre Rasuk) masturbating and she is almost certain he picked up this vile habit from Victor. Nino is far too sweet and innocent to have learned it elsewhere. Social services of course turns Altagracia away, stating that it is illegal to abandon children for no good reason. There is obviously a sweet humor in the sad ridiculousness of this situation. The subtext may also be that for all of his outlandish behavior, Victor is, at his core, a good kid. Furthermore, given the universe these characters inhabit, there are problems worse than masturbation where a teenage boy is concerned that Altagracia very well could be, but thankfully doesn't have to deal with.
In the end, Victor's conflicted relationship with his grandmother still remains, especially in a key scene near the end where the realities of his relationship with Judy are laid bare and everyone is forced to feel the way they feel. The last frame of the film doesn't offer an entirely tidy conclusion. But it's a lovely, subtle and graceful note to end on. One that doesn't lay out the paths of these characters for very long beyond the narrative, but also doesn't leave you unsatisfied. And in a film about teenage love and discovery (an honest one anyway) this is the truest way to leave it.
73. Zombieland - dir. Ruben Fleishcer (2009)
"You are like a like a giant cock-blocking robot. Like, developed in a secret fucking government lab."
72. Head-On - dir. Fatih Akin (2004)
"If you want to end your life, end it. You don't have to kill yourself to do that."
71. Inglourious Basterds - dir. Quentin Tarantino (2009)
"Not so fast, Willi. We only have a deal if we trust each other. A Mexican standoff ain't trust."
70. The Darjeeling Limited - dir. Wes Anderson (2007)
"I wonder if the three of us would have been friends in real life. Not as brothers, but as people."
Next: 60-69
"Computer. Define 'dancing'."
78. Fish Tank - dir. Andrea Arnold (2009)
"You dance like a black. It's a compliment."
77. Reprise - dir. Joachim Trier (2008)
"We're supposed to write and read. And if we feel the urge we'll practice deviant, fetishistic sex with prostitutes."
76. Million Dollar Baby - dir. Clint Eastwood (2004)
"Mama, you take Mardell and JD and get home before I tell that lawyer there that you were so worried about your welfare you never signed those house papers like you were supposed to. So anytime I feel like it I can sell that house from under your fat, lazy, hillbilly ass. And if you ever come back, that's exactly what I'll do."
75. The Cell - dir. Tarsem Singh (2000)
"My World. My Rules."
Spotlight--74. Raising Victor Vargas - dir. Peter Sollett (2003)
"Listen. I'm a private person. What we do is between me and you. You still want this loving, right?"
Peter Sollett's jolting, vibrant and energetic tale of adolescent love and folly abounds with discovery nearly at every turn. Nearly every one of the principle players (with the exception of under-the-radar Indie queen Melonie Diaz) makes his or her feature film debut here. Peter Sollett announced himself as a powerful and interesting new cinematic voice. An aside: I have yet to watch his 2008 follow-up, the relatively high profile Nick and Nora's Infinite Playlist. Should I?
At first glance, this would appear to be exactly the type of cinematic outing designed to bore the shit out of movie-watcher who complains about what is perceived to be the current trend of meandering, navel-gazing independent cinema, heralded as brilliant and cutting-edge by the flannel clad temp at your office (stay with me). I sympathize with this frustration, often siding with it. In my brief write-up of Winter's Bone, I talked about an air of human truth that's sometimes hard to pinpoint, but adds such richness to a great movie. There wasn't a moment of Raising Victor Vargas that felt false or playing to my very contrary, untested perceptions of twenty-first century life in the Lower East Side for these characters.
Victor Vargas (a fabulous Victor Rasuk) speaks the line quoted above. It is one of the first lines uttered in this film and it lets you know that you are in capable hands. Victor Vargas drips with a confident, slightly insular teenage male bravado that permeates everything from his words to his gestures. But what, if anything, is it masking? And why is Judy (Judy Marte), the wise girl he chases after seem more put off by Victor than any of the other boys in her neighborhood? Especially given that one young man candidly offers Judy anal sex in a manner that can only be described as less than chivalrous. These are questions that are answered by last frame. Victor is confident, yes. But the confidence he wears is something akin to a fancy pair of shoes worn by a newborn baby. Shiny and new, certainly. But Victor is still forming, still growing, still becoming himself and he may discover one day soon that his own self-perceived greatness may not fit the person he ultimately becomes. And Judy, for all of her womanly wisdom, for all of her desire to be anything but just another notch in the bedpost of one of the many boys who wish to bed her, really does like Victor. Sounds like your run-of-the-mill romantic comedy, doesn't it? Perhaps it does. But Raising Victor Vargas is anything but.
I spoke, very briefly, about Melonie Diaz. Like many of the actors in the film, she shares her character's first name. In a storyline that exists almost completely parallel to everything else in the film, Melonie (Judy's best friend) falls for one of Victor's chums, the sweet but somewhat cocky Harold (Kevin Rivera). Melonie and Harold's courtship is different than that of Victor and Judy. She is resistant and he is persistent, but not in the same ways and not for the same reasons. Melonie keeps what becomes a very deep, meaningful relationship with Harold a secret from Judy for most of the film. She is desperate to avoid Judy's judgmental stares and comments, not because they would influence her greatly, but because with a look in her eyes and a small gesture, Diaz lets you know that Melonie knows exactly how it's going to turn out and she's already kind of rolling her eyes. I've noticed this consistency in many of Melonie Diaz's performances. She seems naturally aplomb at playing that character who "gets it" just a little bit more than all the other characters around her, who are a a little slow on the uptake. It is a small performance that betrays how integral Diaz's watchfulness and knack for conveying teenage conflict is to the film.
While the Lower East Side of Manhattan has become somewhat of a gentrified hipster haven, that is not the Lower East Side presented in this film. That being the case, it's rife for poverty porn, but Peter Sollett wisely resists the urge to make this a story about a group of minority youths trapped by their circumstances. Or rather, he resists to urge to tell that tired story in the rote, pedestrian fashion that has become all too familiar. The neighborhood is replete with life and there is a youthful innocence and a playfulness that runs throughout Raising Victor Vargas. These are not wealthy people, but, like all young people, they live in and engage with their surroundings.
A key element that lets the viewer know that this is not a typical story of inner-city youths and strife is Victor's grandmother, Altagracia (played by Altagracia Guzman). She is hard on Victor, constantly demanding he set a good example for his younger brother and younger sister. She gifts the movie with soft, maternal humor that is steeped in obliviousness and a clinging to the old guard. At one point, she takes Victor down to social services, probably just to scare him, with the stated intention of turning him over to foster care as punishment for his wild ways and misbehavior. Why? Because she has caught Victor's brother Nino (Victor Rasuk's real life younger brother, Silvestre Rasuk) masturbating and she is almost certain he picked up this vile habit from Victor. Nino is far too sweet and innocent to have learned it elsewhere. Social services of course turns Altagracia away, stating that it is illegal to abandon children for no good reason. There is obviously a sweet humor in the sad ridiculousness of this situation. The subtext may also be that for all of his outlandish behavior, Victor is, at his core, a good kid. Furthermore, given the universe these characters inhabit, there are problems worse than masturbation where a teenage boy is concerned that Altagracia very well could be, but thankfully doesn't have to deal with.
In the end, Victor's conflicted relationship with his grandmother still remains, especially in a key scene near the end where the realities of his relationship with Judy are laid bare and everyone is forced to feel the way they feel. The last frame of the film doesn't offer an entirely tidy conclusion. But it's a lovely, subtle and graceful note to end on. One that doesn't lay out the paths of these characters for very long beyond the narrative, but also doesn't leave you unsatisfied. And in a film about teenage love and discovery (an honest one anyway) this is the truest way to leave it.
73. Zombieland - dir. Ruben Fleishcer (2009)
"You are like a like a giant cock-blocking robot. Like, developed in a secret fucking government lab."
72. Head-On - dir. Fatih Akin (2004)
"If you want to end your life, end it. You don't have to kill yourself to do that."
71. Inglourious Basterds - dir. Quentin Tarantino (2009)
"Not so fast, Willi. We only have a deal if we trust each other. A Mexican standoff ain't trust."
70. The Darjeeling Limited - dir. Wes Anderson (2007)
"I wonder if the three of us would have been friends in real life. Not as brothers, but as people."
Next: 60-69
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
The Best Films of the Aughts (80-89)
89. Wendy and Lucy - dir. Kelly Reichardt (2008)
"You can't get an address without an address. You can't get a job without a job."
88. Morvern Callar - dir. Lynne Ramsay (2002)
"Fuck work, Lanna. We can go wherever you like."
87. Mystic River - dir. Clint Eastwood (2003)
"Their daddy's a king. And a king knows what to do and does it. Even when it's hard. And their daddy will do whatever he has to for those he loves. And that's all that matters. Because everyone is weak, Jimmy. Everyone but us. We will never be weak. And you, you could rule this town. And after Jimmy, let's take the girls down to the parade. Katie would like that."
86. Match Point - dir. Woody Allen (2005)
"I never got along with her, but this is just tragic."
85. Moulin Rouge! - dir. Baz Luhrmann (2001)
"What's his type? Wilting flower? Bright and bubbly? Or smoldering temptress?"
84. Stevie - dir. Steve James (2002)
"You expect me to say something when my fiancee's sitting right here? So I can get in trouble with her? I know when to hold 'em and when to fold 'em."
83. Vera Drake - dir. Mike Leigh (2004)
"That's not what I do dear. That's what you call it. But they need help. Who else they got to turn to? No one. I help them out."
82. Prodigal Sons - dir. Kimberly Reed (2009)
"I've told people about myself. They've stood up and walked out of the room, never to talk to me again. There's one sentence I can tell people that can make them never want to talk to me again."
Spotlight--81. My Life Without Me - dir. Isabel Coixet (2003)
"Hey my buddy, Penny. I'm not going to be at your birthday party, but there's nothing I'd like more in the whole, wide world. I bet Grandma's made a special birthday cake just for you with your name on it in big chocolate letters. Penny, I want you to know that the day you were born, I held you in my arms and that was the happiest day in my whole life. I was so happy I couldn't even speak. I just stroked your little feet and cried with happiness. Without you, I could have never found out that lions eat pancakes or that the bed could be a raft. Try and look after Patsy, okay? I know it's hard 'cause sometimes she makes you mad and everything. I know it's not easy being the big sister, but I know you can do it. Mommy sends you millions and millions of kisses."
What a deplorable, unpleasant and implausible premise Isabel Coixet's My Life Without Me begins on. Ann, a young woman in her early twenties (a fantastic Sarah Polley) who lives in a trailer with her unemployed husband and two young daughters discovers that her days our numbered. Stricken with ovarian cancer, she has two months to live. Rather than disclosing this information to her family, Ann decides not to burden them and instead records audio tapes for her daughters for each of their remaining birthdays until they turn eighteen and tapes for her husband as well. As if this character couldn't seem any more detestable and selfish, she also finds it prudent to sleep with another man (she's only ever slept with her husband) just to see what it's like. She meets Lee (Mark Ruffalo) and the two begin an affair. What a horrible person! Who on Earth would want to spend 100 minutes with this woman, watching her playing the admittedly shitty hand she's been dealt, doing the wrong thing at every turn. I'm not being facetious. I'm simply marveling at how the way I reacted to the premise of My Life Without Me was wholly different from my reaction to the film itself.
Isabel Coixet has crafted a lovely, airy and evocative piece of filmmaking. As abhorrent as the logline seems, it can also read as a setup for something much more maudlin, sanguine and Lifetime Movie of the Week than the result we are given. The subject matter is prickly and unpleasant. The film does not pretend that what Ann is doing is commendable and based on some kind of all-knowing altruism. Sarah Polley is a pitch perfect as Ann. She seems to have such a knack for internal psychology, something that not all actors can claim. The scene in which Ann first learns of her illness is played very interestingly, and it's quite thrilling to watch the choices Polley makes. She doesn't underplay the moment which, given the sedate nature of the narrative, would have felt at once obvious and forced. Nor does she blow it up into a big exercise where she can chew the scenery. She starts off with humor, then goes in for the kill like a shark in the water. "What the fuck is wrong with me?" she asks the doctor, an abrupt shift after cracking wise for a beat. Her face registers the shock and she conveys a woman who is collapsing in on herself. Between her performances here, in The Sweet Hereafter, hell, even in Splice, a film's determined to strip a mildly interesting premise of its sheen in service of a telling an incredibly lame, by-the-numbers thriller, Polley seems to pack an actorly wallop. Even going back as far her days on Road to Avonlea, she always presents a very subtle, intriguing maturity. I understand, on the most basic level, why Polley's ratio of high-profile roles, even in smaller character pieces, seems disproportionate to her talents as an actress. She seems quite loyally stationed in the Canadian film scene, so in a way, that limits the number of projects we'll see her in. She's pretty, but not breathtaking and some might even say that she has an otherwordliness about her fact (much like Samantha Morton, Emily Watson and even Tilda Swinton) that limits the number of roles casting directors are willing to imagine her inhabiting. And lastly, and most intangibly, she always seems to read as very prickly and complicated. But the fact that she is always so interesting to watch still causes me to selfishly want more of her. I'm not so naive as to imagine a Katherine Heigl level of visibility, but I wouldn't mind a Michelle Williams-style career from Sarah Polley.
This is by no means a perfect film. It sometimes meanders, though never in ways that are not compelling. Mark Ruffalo, who I mentioned in my write-up of You Can Count On Me does seem best at playing the selfish manchild, but it doesn't always serve the narrative. While fine here, he does contribute (maybe adversely) to the film's misanthropic nature, but it doesn't sink the film and I'm still not convinced, after several viewings, that Ruffalo was miscast. He serves as the perfect foil for Ann's husband, Don (Scott Speedman). Don is sweet, stupid and satisfied. There aren't many notes to play, but Speedman seems to understand the character perfectly. Imagine Ryan Gosling's Dean in Blue Valentine, with better hair, less beer in the morning and more baffled than openly hostile about his wife's emotional wanderlust. Interesting side note: My Life Without Me and Blue Valentine would make for a fascinating (albeit very depressing) double bill. Despite all of the aforementioned limitations, I found myself enthralled with My Life Without Me. The characters are observant and flawed. The dialogue is unfussy and believable. The same, I suppose, could be said of Isabel Coixet's more heralded 2008 offering Elegy, which I enjoyed well enough and would hardly recommend passing over on one's Netflix watch instantly queue. But there was a certain artifice and sheen about that film that left me admiring much, but ultimately feeling little by the last frame. I felt My life Without Me and I couldn't take my eyes off of it.
80. United 93 - dir. Paul Greengrass (2006)
"Hi mom, it's me... this really kind woman handed me the phone and told me to call you."
Next: 70-79
"You can't get an address without an address. You can't get a job without a job."
88. Morvern Callar - dir. Lynne Ramsay (2002)
"Fuck work, Lanna. We can go wherever you like."
87. Mystic River - dir. Clint Eastwood (2003)
"Their daddy's a king. And a king knows what to do and does it. Even when it's hard. And their daddy will do whatever he has to for those he loves. And that's all that matters. Because everyone is weak, Jimmy. Everyone but us. We will never be weak. And you, you could rule this town. And after Jimmy, let's take the girls down to the parade. Katie would like that."
86. Match Point - dir. Woody Allen (2005)
"I never got along with her, but this is just tragic."
85. Moulin Rouge! - dir. Baz Luhrmann (2001)
"What's his type? Wilting flower? Bright and bubbly? Or smoldering temptress?"
84. Stevie - dir. Steve James (2002)
"You expect me to say something when my fiancee's sitting right here? So I can get in trouble with her? I know when to hold 'em and when to fold 'em."
83. Vera Drake - dir. Mike Leigh (2004)
"That's not what I do dear. That's what you call it. But they need help. Who else they got to turn to? No one. I help them out."
82. Prodigal Sons - dir. Kimberly Reed (2009)
"I've told people about myself. They've stood up and walked out of the room, never to talk to me again. There's one sentence I can tell people that can make them never want to talk to me again."
Spotlight--81. My Life Without Me - dir. Isabel Coixet (2003)
"Hey my buddy, Penny. I'm not going to be at your birthday party, but there's nothing I'd like more in the whole, wide world. I bet Grandma's made a special birthday cake just for you with your name on it in big chocolate letters. Penny, I want you to know that the day you were born, I held you in my arms and that was the happiest day in my whole life. I was so happy I couldn't even speak. I just stroked your little feet and cried with happiness. Without you, I could have never found out that lions eat pancakes or that the bed could be a raft. Try and look after Patsy, okay? I know it's hard 'cause sometimes she makes you mad and everything. I know it's not easy being the big sister, but I know you can do it. Mommy sends you millions and millions of kisses."
What a deplorable, unpleasant and implausible premise Isabel Coixet's My Life Without Me begins on. Ann, a young woman in her early twenties (a fantastic Sarah Polley) who lives in a trailer with her unemployed husband and two young daughters discovers that her days our numbered. Stricken with ovarian cancer, she has two months to live. Rather than disclosing this information to her family, Ann decides not to burden them and instead records audio tapes for her daughters for each of their remaining birthdays until they turn eighteen and tapes for her husband as well. As if this character couldn't seem any more detestable and selfish, she also finds it prudent to sleep with another man (she's only ever slept with her husband) just to see what it's like. She meets Lee (Mark Ruffalo) and the two begin an affair. What a horrible person! Who on Earth would want to spend 100 minutes with this woman, watching her playing the admittedly shitty hand she's been dealt, doing the wrong thing at every turn. I'm not being facetious. I'm simply marveling at how the way I reacted to the premise of My Life Without Me was wholly different from my reaction to the film itself.
Isabel Coixet has crafted a lovely, airy and evocative piece of filmmaking. As abhorrent as the logline seems, it can also read as a setup for something much more maudlin, sanguine and Lifetime Movie of the Week than the result we are given. The subject matter is prickly and unpleasant. The film does not pretend that what Ann is doing is commendable and based on some kind of all-knowing altruism. Sarah Polley is a pitch perfect as Ann. She seems to have such a knack for internal psychology, something that not all actors can claim. The scene in which Ann first learns of her illness is played very interestingly, and it's quite thrilling to watch the choices Polley makes. She doesn't underplay the moment which, given the sedate nature of the narrative, would have felt at once obvious and forced. Nor does she blow it up into a big exercise where she can chew the scenery. She starts off with humor, then goes in for the kill like a shark in the water. "What the fuck is wrong with me?" she asks the doctor, an abrupt shift after cracking wise for a beat. Her face registers the shock and she conveys a woman who is collapsing in on herself. Between her performances here, in The Sweet Hereafter, hell, even in Splice, a film's determined to strip a mildly interesting premise of its sheen in service of a telling an incredibly lame, by-the-numbers thriller, Polley seems to pack an actorly wallop. Even going back as far her days on Road to Avonlea, she always presents a very subtle, intriguing maturity. I understand, on the most basic level, why Polley's ratio of high-profile roles, even in smaller character pieces, seems disproportionate to her talents as an actress. She seems quite loyally stationed in the Canadian film scene, so in a way, that limits the number of projects we'll see her in. She's pretty, but not breathtaking and some might even say that she has an otherwordliness about her fact (much like Samantha Morton, Emily Watson and even Tilda Swinton) that limits the number of roles casting directors are willing to imagine her inhabiting. And lastly, and most intangibly, she always seems to read as very prickly and complicated. But the fact that she is always so interesting to watch still causes me to selfishly want more of her. I'm not so naive as to imagine a Katherine Heigl level of visibility, but I wouldn't mind a Michelle Williams-style career from Sarah Polley.
This is by no means a perfect film. It sometimes meanders, though never in ways that are not compelling. Mark Ruffalo, who I mentioned in my write-up of You Can Count On Me does seem best at playing the selfish manchild, but it doesn't always serve the narrative. While fine here, he does contribute (maybe adversely) to the film's misanthropic nature, but it doesn't sink the film and I'm still not convinced, after several viewings, that Ruffalo was miscast. He serves as the perfect foil for Ann's husband, Don (Scott Speedman). Don is sweet, stupid and satisfied. There aren't many notes to play, but Speedman seems to understand the character perfectly. Imagine Ryan Gosling's Dean in Blue Valentine, with better hair, less beer in the morning and more baffled than openly hostile about his wife's emotional wanderlust. Interesting side note: My Life Without Me and Blue Valentine would make for a fascinating (albeit very depressing) double bill. Despite all of the aforementioned limitations, I found myself enthralled with My Life Without Me. The characters are observant and flawed. The dialogue is unfussy and believable. The same, I suppose, could be said of Isabel Coixet's more heralded 2008 offering Elegy, which I enjoyed well enough and would hardly recommend passing over on one's Netflix watch instantly queue. But there was a certain artifice and sheen about that film that left me admiring much, but ultimately feeling little by the last frame. I felt My life Without Me and I couldn't take my eyes off of it.
80. United 93 - dir. Paul Greengrass (2006)
"Hi mom, it's me... this really kind woman handed me the phone and told me to call you."
Next: 70-79
The Best Films of the Aughts (90-100)
Better late than never. Here are the top 100 films of the 2000s as determined by yours truly. Just a
100. You Can Count on Me - dir. Kenneth Lonergan (2000)
"I cleaned the whole fucking house just so it would look nice for you! I had no idea you were just broke again! I wish you'd just send me an invoice!
99. Crank - dirs. Mark Neveldine and Brian Taylor (2006)
"Don't talk to him like that! My boyfriend kills people!"
98. The Maid - dir. Sebastian Silva (2009)
"I've things to tell her too! You're just the maid!"
97. American Psycho - dir. Mary Harron (2000)
"I have all the characteristics of a human being: blood, flesh, skin, hair; but not a single, clear, identifiable emotion, except for greed and disgust. Something horrible is happening inside of me and I don't know why. My nightly bloodlust has overflown into my days. I feel lethal, on the verge of frenzy. I think my mask of sanity is about to slip."
96. Marie Antoinette - dir. Sofia Coppola (2006)
"Oh, you were not what was desired, but that makes you no less dear to me. A boy would have been the Son of France, but you, Marie Thérèse, shall be mine."
95. Kill Bill Vol. 1 - dir. Quentin Tarantino (2003)
"Your name is Buck. And you came here to fuck."
94. Gone Baby Gone - dir. Ben Affleck (2007)
"When I was young, I once asked my priest how you can get to heaven and still protect yourself from all the evil in the world. He told me what God told his children: 'You are sheep among wolves. Be wise as serpents, yet innocent as doves.' "
93. The Piano Teacher - dir. Michael Haneke (2002)
"Schubert's dynamics range from scream to whisper, not loud to soft. Anarchy hardly seems your forte. Why not stick to Clementi?"
92. A Mighty Heart - dir. Michael Winterbottom (2007)
"I just wanted to say something to everybody. I want to, I want to thank you for all of your work and all of your effort and your kindness and I know how much you wanted to find and bring Danny home. You did not fail, you know? Danny's dead, but the kidnappers, their point is to terrorize people, right? I am not terrorized. And you can't be terrorized. I am very grateful to all of you. Very, very grateful. So thank you. So, please, let's eat."
91. Long Night's Journey Into Day - dirs. Deborah Hoffmann and Frances Reid (2000)
*A documentary film about post-Apartheid South Africa, the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC) and the Amy Biehl murder. This film is currently unavailable to rent on Netflix, nor is the DVD available for purchase on Netflix. I can't offer up any other useful advice other than to seek it out.
90. Sideways - dir. Alexander Payne (2004)
"I like to think about the life of wine. How it's a living thing. I like to think about what was going on the years the grapes were growing. How the sun was shining, if it rained. I like to think about all the people who tended and picked the grapes and if it's an old wine how many of them must be dead by now. I like how wine continues to evolve. Like, if I opened a bottle of wine today, it would taste different than if I'd opened it on any other day. Because a bottle of wine is actually alive and it's constantly evolving and gaining complexity. That is until it peaks--like your '61 and then it begins its steady, inevitable decline. And it tastes so fucking good."
Next: 89-80
"I cleaned the whole fucking house just so it would look nice for you! I had no idea you were just broke again! I wish you'd just send me an invoice!
99. Crank - dirs. Mark Neveldine and Brian Taylor (2006)
"Don't talk to him like that! My boyfriend kills people!"
98. The Maid - dir. Sebastian Silva (2009)
"I've things to tell her too! You're just the maid!"
97. American Psycho - dir. Mary Harron (2000)
"I have all the characteristics of a human being: blood, flesh, skin, hair; but not a single, clear, identifiable emotion, except for greed and disgust. Something horrible is happening inside of me and I don't know why. My nightly bloodlust has overflown into my days. I feel lethal, on the verge of frenzy. I think my mask of sanity is about to slip."
96. Marie Antoinette - dir. Sofia Coppola (2006)
"Oh, you were not what was desired, but that makes you no less dear to me. A boy would have been the Son of France, but you, Marie Thérèse, shall be mine."
95. Kill Bill Vol. 1 - dir. Quentin Tarantino (2003)
"Your name is Buck. And you came here to fuck."
94. Gone Baby Gone - dir. Ben Affleck (2007)
"When I was young, I once asked my priest how you can get to heaven and still protect yourself from all the evil in the world. He told me what God told his children: 'You are sheep among wolves. Be wise as serpents, yet innocent as doves.' "
93. The Piano Teacher - dir. Michael Haneke (2002)
"Schubert's dynamics range from scream to whisper, not loud to soft. Anarchy hardly seems your forte. Why not stick to Clementi?"
92. A Mighty Heart - dir. Michael Winterbottom (2007)
"I just wanted to say something to everybody. I want to, I want to thank you for all of your work and all of your effort and your kindness and I know how much you wanted to find and bring Danny home. You did not fail, you know? Danny's dead, but the kidnappers, their point is to terrorize people, right? I am not terrorized. And you can't be terrorized. I am very grateful to all of you. Very, very grateful. So thank you. So, please, let's eat."
91. Long Night's Journey Into Day - dirs. Deborah Hoffmann and Frances Reid (2000)
*A documentary film about post-Apartheid South Africa, the Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC) and the Amy Biehl murder. This film is currently unavailable to rent on Netflix, nor is the DVD available for purchase on Netflix. I can't offer up any other useful advice other than to seek it out.
90. Sideways - dir. Alexander Payne (2004)
"I like to think about the life of wine. How it's a living thing. I like to think about what was going on the years the grapes were growing. How the sun was shining, if it rained. I like to think about all the people who tended and picked the grapes and if it's an old wine how many of them must be dead by now. I like how wine continues to evolve. Like, if I opened a bottle of wine today, it would taste different than if I'd opened it on any other day. Because a bottle of wine is actually alive and it's constantly evolving and gaining complexity. That is until it peaks--like your '61 and then it begins its steady, inevitable decline. And it tastes so fucking good."
Next: 89-80
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
New Best Picture Rules...Desperation is Not Becoming
Two years after changing the rules so that ten rather than five films would be nominated for the coveted Best Picture Oscar, it would appear that the bastion of slightly elevated middlebrow establishment masquerading as top-drawer cinematic aesthetic--the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences--is at it again.
They have determined that in order to receive a Best Picture nomination, five percent of a film's votes have to be number one votes on the ranking weighted ballot. This means that the number of nominees will no longer be fixed. From year to year (as long as they keep this policy in place, mind you) the number of films nominated for Best Picture can now range anywhere from five to ten.
I'm not going to talk about how this diminishes the Academy's integrity as a distinguished voting body. That argument has been raised already, by people more eloquent than I with more of an inside baseball perspective. Also, I've long ceased getting all precious about the Academy and the choices they make. They are, after all, just a group of people weighing in on the matter. I do, however find myself wondering what exactly they think it is this move is going to accomplish. And I also wonder about the implementation of such a change following this past particular Oscar year.
What was it about last year that made the AMPAS panic? A year that boasted seven 100 million plus grossing Best Picture nominees and three modest financial successes when one takes relative scale and budget into account. Was it the fact that the Oscar telecast had lower ratings than the previous year, whose Best Picture roster included An Education, A Serious Man and District 9, a veritable "Who's Who" of films your Aunt Martha from Lansing, Kansas has never heard of?
I've already given my thoughts at length about the 83rd Annual Academy Awards telecast, but one thing I neglected to mention was how 2010's crop of nominees were practically gift-wrapped and placed on a silver platter for the Academy. Monster box office? Check. Audience interest? Check. No real stinkers, even by the most lenient, Gene Shalit-y of standards? Check. With so much goodwill going into the ceremony, the producers of the telecast really just had to make it not terrible. Easier said than done, I know. But it's my want, like all internet people, to pass judgment. Still, it should have been like taking an open notes test in school. If you've at least been halfway paying attention and have somewhat of a clue, there's only so much you can fuck it up. Yet everything about the ceremony, from the intriguing but ultimately disappointing choice of host(s) to the confoundedly perplexing/putrid production choices made it a real stinker.
I'm going off on a tangent, but my point is that many of these decisions regarding the tinkering of the Best Picture race are in some way or another related to the telecast. Even while having no real qualms about this particular tweak (more on that later), that simple fact leaves a very bad taste in my mouth. After The Dark Knight (and arguably WALL-E) were not nominated, the list was expanded to ten. Contact me personally if you still think this is a coincidence because I doubt whatever reality-altering medication you're on is over-the-counter and I do enjoy my fun.
With these new rules, we would have likely seen The Kids Are All Right and 127 Hours dropped from last year's roster, leaving us with eight films nominated for the top prize. Some have made the argument that Winter's Bone would have fallen by the wayside as well, but the way Martin Scorsese and Kathryn Bigelow were both thumping for it makes me think it still would have been there. Winter's Bone is precisely the type of film that gets into the race BECAUSE most of it's votes are number one votes. But back to my original question, which is what does this accomplish? Would having The Kids Are All Right or 127 Hours or even Winter's Bone absent from the lineup really have changed anything? Not really. Since October of 2010, the race had been framed as being between The King's Speech and The Social Network. And the producers did their darndest during the telecast to act as if Winter's Bone and The Kids Are All Right didn't exist anyway, so I'm not sure why this change was made. More often than not, we know who's going to win the top prize months before the race is done and no film that's seriously in contention is going to be affected by this switch.
One thing I hope this does accomplish is a return of the lone director nominee, which the ten Best Picture system was threatening to make extinct. I guarantee that although Fernando Meireilles, Pedro Almodovar and David Lynch each received lone Best Director nominations that neither City of God, Talk to Her nor Mulholland Drive would have had enough number one votes to make the Best Picture cut under this newly implemented system. The Academy probably hopes to wind up with a group of Best Picture nominees that people are genuinely excited about rather than six or seven passion projects and three or four ho-hum filler nominees. I can understand, at least on paper, how the decision makers thought that this new policy was the best way to accomplish that goal. But we don't have to look back too far in history, when the Academy nominated only five films, to find sore thumbs like Finding Neverland, Ray, Seabiscuit, Frost/Nixon, Chocolat and The Cider House Rules. These titles all share the dubious distinction of films I can't imagine anyone in a million years being passionate enough about to put at the top of their ballots for Best Picture nominations. And yet there they were...and in years of five, no less. My apologies to anyone who absolutely loves any of the aforementioned titles. I'm not making fun of you. I just didn't know you existed.
I'd be surprised to see this policy last beyond five years. It's nice to stretch and try new things, but reputable organizations, especially those as old as the Academy thrive on consistency. A rotating number of nominees in any category is so...Broadcast Film Critics Association. And I don't think the Academy wants to be the Broadcast Film Critics Association. While a fiscally naive sentiment, I think the Academy should simply embrace the fact that they have their tastes, which are sometimes anomalous and strange to lay outsiders like us. Moves like this almost always read as an apology to the public for the Academy's cinematic proclivities, which isn't what the Oscars are about. Or at least, it's not what they should be about. I've said it many times, but it bears repeating. It is a show, like the Tonys, which is about honoring something that a small segment of the viewing population is interested in/knowledgeable of. That's fine. But I hope the Academy never ceases to consider the people in the room who they're honoring, who the show is actually for. Most people can smell desperation and it's a scent that few are attracted to. So, to the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences I say stop scrambling. Relax. Take a breather. And, most importantly, make it about the movies.
They have determined that in order to receive a Best Picture nomination, five percent of a film's votes have to be number one votes on the ranking weighted ballot. This means that the number of nominees will no longer be fixed. From year to year (as long as they keep this policy in place, mind you) the number of films nominated for Best Picture can now range anywhere from five to ten.
I'm not going to talk about how this diminishes the Academy's integrity as a distinguished voting body. That argument has been raised already, by people more eloquent than I with more of an inside baseball perspective. Also, I've long ceased getting all precious about the Academy and the choices they make. They are, after all, just a group of people weighing in on the matter. I do, however find myself wondering what exactly they think it is this move is going to accomplish. And I also wonder about the implementation of such a change following this past particular Oscar year.
What was it about last year that made the AMPAS panic? A year that boasted seven 100 million plus grossing Best Picture nominees and three modest financial successes when one takes relative scale and budget into account. Was it the fact that the Oscar telecast had lower ratings than the previous year, whose Best Picture roster included An Education, A Serious Man and District 9, a veritable "Who's Who" of films your Aunt Martha from Lansing, Kansas has never heard of?
I've already given my thoughts at length about the 83rd Annual Academy Awards telecast, but one thing I neglected to mention was how 2010's crop of nominees were practically gift-wrapped and placed on a silver platter for the Academy. Monster box office? Check. Audience interest? Check. No real stinkers, even by the most lenient, Gene Shalit-y of standards? Check. With so much goodwill going into the ceremony, the producers of the telecast really just had to make it not terrible. Easier said than done, I know. But it's my want, like all internet people, to pass judgment. Still, it should have been like taking an open notes test in school. If you've at least been halfway paying attention and have somewhat of a clue, there's only so much you can fuck it up. Yet everything about the ceremony, from the intriguing but ultimately disappointing choice of host(s) to the confoundedly perplexing/putrid production choices made it a real stinker.
I'm going off on a tangent, but my point is that many of these decisions regarding the tinkering of the Best Picture race are in some way or another related to the telecast. Even while having no real qualms about this particular tweak (more on that later), that simple fact leaves a very bad taste in my mouth. After The Dark Knight (and arguably WALL-E) were not nominated, the list was expanded to ten. Contact me personally if you still think this is a coincidence because I doubt whatever reality-altering medication you're on is over-the-counter and I do enjoy my fun.
With these new rules, we would have likely seen The Kids Are All Right and 127 Hours dropped from last year's roster, leaving us with eight films nominated for the top prize. Some have made the argument that Winter's Bone would have fallen by the wayside as well, but the way Martin Scorsese and Kathryn Bigelow were both thumping for it makes me think it still would have been there. Winter's Bone is precisely the type of film that gets into the race BECAUSE most of it's votes are number one votes. But back to my original question, which is what does this accomplish? Would having The Kids Are All Right or 127 Hours or even Winter's Bone absent from the lineup really have changed anything? Not really. Since October of 2010, the race had been framed as being between The King's Speech and The Social Network. And the producers did their darndest during the telecast to act as if Winter's Bone and The Kids Are All Right didn't exist anyway, so I'm not sure why this change was made. More often than not, we know who's going to win the top prize months before the race is done and no film that's seriously in contention is going to be affected by this switch.
One thing I hope this does accomplish is a return of the lone director nominee, which the ten Best Picture system was threatening to make extinct. I guarantee that although Fernando Meireilles, Pedro Almodovar and David Lynch each received lone Best Director nominations that neither City of God, Talk to Her nor Mulholland Drive would have had enough number one votes to make the Best Picture cut under this newly implemented system. The Academy probably hopes to wind up with a group of Best Picture nominees that people are genuinely excited about rather than six or seven passion projects and three or four ho-hum filler nominees. I can understand, at least on paper, how the decision makers thought that this new policy was the best way to accomplish that goal. But we don't have to look back too far in history, when the Academy nominated only five films, to find sore thumbs like Finding Neverland, Ray, Seabiscuit, Frost/Nixon, Chocolat and The Cider House Rules. These titles all share the dubious distinction of films I can't imagine anyone in a million years being passionate enough about to put at the top of their ballots for Best Picture nominations. And yet there they were...and in years of five, no less. My apologies to anyone who absolutely loves any of the aforementioned titles. I'm not making fun of you. I just didn't know you existed.
I'd be surprised to see this policy last beyond five years. It's nice to stretch and try new things, but reputable organizations, especially those as old as the Academy thrive on consistency. A rotating number of nominees in any category is so...Broadcast Film Critics Association. And I don't think the Academy wants to be the Broadcast Film Critics Association. While a fiscally naive sentiment, I think the Academy should simply embrace the fact that they have their tastes, which are sometimes anomalous and strange to lay outsiders like us. Moves like this almost always read as an apology to the public for the Academy's cinematic proclivities, which isn't what the Oscars are about. Or at least, it's not what they should be about. I've said it many times, but it bears repeating. It is a show, like the Tonys, which is about honoring something that a small segment of the viewing population is interested in/knowledgeable of. That's fine. But I hope the Academy never ceases to consider the people in the room who they're honoring, who the show is actually for. Most people can smell desperation and it's a scent that few are attracted to. So, to the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences I say stop scrambling. Relax. Take a breather. And, most importantly, make it about the movies.
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