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Reviews13
meininky's rating
Sometimes (even oftentimes) in the world of film criticism, the word "triumphant" is thrown around. It's often used to describe a film, perhaps more often a performance. I've certainly used it; it's a term I like to pull out when a film seems to go beyond the call of duty. When it's more than art, entertainment, or a combination of both. When the story, images, and characters pop off the screen and go with you, and the lasting impression left on you means something more than having killed a couple hours in a big, dark room with a bunch of strangers. Now, after watching 127 Hours, I feel I've never used "triumphant" in the correct critical context before.
James Franco's performance is simply astounding. He, as an actor, is triumphant because his character is, and because he delves into what it means to be bringing this incredible story to life on the big screen for mass consumption. This is a tough role - Franco is basically putting on a one-man show, and he does so elegantly. We feel Aron Ralston's pain because Franco feels his pain and shows it in every line of his face, verbalizes it with every sigh, and lets it control him even as he battles to take control back and find a way out of his dire situation.
It's pure, masterful art. Franco is simply flawless. Trapped by the boulder, much of his performance lies in his facial expressions, and he is able to deftly switch from desperation to comedy to a brutal will to survive, all while being barely able to move. I've rarely been so impressed by an actor's work; Franco is wholly deserving of the Oscar.
Danny Boyle's kinetic, energetic direction is a perfect match for Franco's easy-going goofiness, and even when the film becomes grounded in the narrow canyon where Ralston was trapped, Boyle always keeps things interesting. He and co-writer Simon Beaufoy weave flashbacks and hallucinations into Ralston's dilemma to great, heart-breaking effect, and the premonition that drives Ralston to finally dive whole-heartedly into amputating his own arm is breath-taking in its tenderness.
Also impressive is Enrique Chediak and Anthony Dod Mantle's cinematography. Instead of letting the confined space limit their camera techniques, they tackle every possible angle, often bringing the audience uncomfortably close to the action. Shots through the bottom of Ralston's water bottle mark time and heighten the sense of urgency. The addition of home movie-style footage brings Ralston even closer to the audience; when he expresses his delayed gratitude to his family, you'll likely find yourself thinking about the last time you told your parents how much you love them. It's a great device, and is put to best use in one of the film's funniest scenes, when Ralston interviews himself Gollum-style. The combination of the dark humor, varied cinematography, and Franco's impressive facial dexterity pitch the scene perfectly; it's a lighter moment that is nevertheless grounded in the gravity of the situation.
Complementing and combining Chediak and Mantle's beautiful shots is Jon Harris's dynamic editing. The use of split-screen is particularly brilliant, put to use in innovative ways throughout the film: the bookend sequences mark Ralston's departure from and return to society, and the technique in general represents the multiple facets of a seemingly simple tale. Yes, when it comes down to it, 127 Hours is a film about a mountain climber who gets stuck under a boulder and has to cut off his own arm. But it's so much more than that. It's about a man overcoming the physical, emotional, and intellectual strains of an unthinkable situation. It's about responsibility, love, and the will to live. Above all, it's about the triumph of the human spirit, show more clearly and beautifully here than in any other film I can think of.
James Franco's performance is simply astounding. He, as an actor, is triumphant because his character is, and because he delves into what it means to be bringing this incredible story to life on the big screen for mass consumption. This is a tough role - Franco is basically putting on a one-man show, and he does so elegantly. We feel Aron Ralston's pain because Franco feels his pain and shows it in every line of his face, verbalizes it with every sigh, and lets it control him even as he battles to take control back and find a way out of his dire situation.
It's pure, masterful art. Franco is simply flawless. Trapped by the boulder, much of his performance lies in his facial expressions, and he is able to deftly switch from desperation to comedy to a brutal will to survive, all while being barely able to move. I've rarely been so impressed by an actor's work; Franco is wholly deserving of the Oscar.
Danny Boyle's kinetic, energetic direction is a perfect match for Franco's easy-going goofiness, and even when the film becomes grounded in the narrow canyon where Ralston was trapped, Boyle always keeps things interesting. He and co-writer Simon Beaufoy weave flashbacks and hallucinations into Ralston's dilemma to great, heart-breaking effect, and the premonition that drives Ralston to finally dive whole-heartedly into amputating his own arm is breath-taking in its tenderness.
Also impressive is Enrique Chediak and Anthony Dod Mantle's cinematography. Instead of letting the confined space limit their camera techniques, they tackle every possible angle, often bringing the audience uncomfortably close to the action. Shots through the bottom of Ralston's water bottle mark time and heighten the sense of urgency. The addition of home movie-style footage brings Ralston even closer to the audience; when he expresses his delayed gratitude to his family, you'll likely find yourself thinking about the last time you told your parents how much you love them. It's a great device, and is put to best use in one of the film's funniest scenes, when Ralston interviews himself Gollum-style. The combination of the dark humor, varied cinematography, and Franco's impressive facial dexterity pitch the scene perfectly; it's a lighter moment that is nevertheless grounded in the gravity of the situation.
Complementing and combining Chediak and Mantle's beautiful shots is Jon Harris's dynamic editing. The use of split-screen is particularly brilliant, put to use in innovative ways throughout the film: the bookend sequences mark Ralston's departure from and return to society, and the technique in general represents the multiple facets of a seemingly simple tale. Yes, when it comes down to it, 127 Hours is a film about a mountain climber who gets stuck under a boulder and has to cut off his own arm. But it's so much more than that. It's about a man overcoming the physical, emotional, and intellectual strains of an unthinkable situation. It's about responsibility, love, and the will to live. Above all, it's about the triumph of the human spirit, show more clearly and beautifully here than in any other film I can think of.
I've been digesting The Social Network for a few days now, and I'm still not sure I'm ready to offer up my thoughts on it. It's rare for a film to make such an impact on me; true, Toy Story 3 tugged at my heartstrings, while Inception raped my mind, but The Social Network appeals to me on a different level. Perhaps it's because of its relevance to our times, like last year's Up in the Air. Unlike that film, though, The Social Network is especially pertinent to me, because Facebook is such a huge part of my life. It's something that (quite literally) connects us all, much like the shared experience of seeing a movie; this is even more true in this case, as the screening I attended was "sold-out," a free screening for Ohio State students. It's thrilling to think how each of us is a part of the story in some way. We are among the hundreds of millions who made this site the success it is; thus, the controversy. Thus, the film.
David Fincher follows up his beautiful, haunting Benjamin Button with something completely different. Set in our times, and on our computer screens, the drama of The Social Network isn't confined to a fantastical take on the past. Instead, it's a thrilling look at our present. Fincher directs a cast full of young, fresh faces through performances that show their potential and hint at their future success. He keeps the film moving at a perfect pace, building an appropriate momentum that matches the intense success story that is Facebook.
The structure is gorgeous, too. When the film first cuts to one hearing, then the other (as the film's tagline says, Zuckerberg makes a few enemies), you'll likely feel lost. There's no way to ground yourself in the images you're absorbing; the film just throws you in. This brilliant bit of editing portends the morally questionable path Zuckerberg heads down while also reflecting the very nature of Facebook. Just as you're unsure what exactly is happening in these first glimpses of the legal proceedings, so are Zuckerberg and company unsure of what Facebook is going to become. Numerous times throughout the film, characters admit to "not knowing what it is." It's huge, epic in a way that few things are. It spans the globe while being limited to screens. It's something profoundly modern, but handled with the film- making mastery of cinema's finest auteurs.
Perhaps the highlight of the film is Aaron Sorkin's phenomenal screenplay. The dialogue flies fast and sharp, ably including the techno-babble but tempering it with humor and enough layman's terms to keep the audience in the loop. The inclusion of multiple points of view lends the film a sense of fairness and accuracy. Of course you expect that there's exaggeration for the sake of being more cinematic, dramatic, or entertaining, but the extensive attention paid to each character makes the story easier to believe than other films based on true stories.
Sorkin's words sound perfectly acidic and natural coming out of Jesse Eisenberg. Eisenberg deserves awards attention for his performance as Zuckerberg; this is the role that will hopefully catapult him to the star status he so deserves (and has received in moderation after great turns in Adventureland and Zombieland). Andrew Garfield continues to impress as cofounder Eduardo Saverin; he now has three fantastic turns under his belt for the year, with Never Let Me Go yet to come (in my neck of the woods, at least).
Justin Timberlake's involvement in the film likely gave some film aficionados pause, but he's a natural fit for Napster founder Sean Parker. He exudes confidence, energy, and just the right amount of sleaziness. Also worth noting is Rooney Mara, who has a small role but does big things with it, and will get her chance to shine under Fincher's direction again as Lisbeth Salander in the American take on The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo.
At two hours, The Social Network is a long movie but it never feels like it. The film possesses an elegance of design not unlike that of the website it revolves around. Every aspect of the film is handled just so; from the gorgeous cinematography to the great cast, from the fitting editing to the unforgettable writing. The Social Network is, perhaps, the film of the year. It's timely and timeless, a combination that few films can ever hope to achieve.
David Fincher follows up his beautiful, haunting Benjamin Button with something completely different. Set in our times, and on our computer screens, the drama of The Social Network isn't confined to a fantastical take on the past. Instead, it's a thrilling look at our present. Fincher directs a cast full of young, fresh faces through performances that show their potential and hint at their future success. He keeps the film moving at a perfect pace, building an appropriate momentum that matches the intense success story that is Facebook.
The structure is gorgeous, too. When the film first cuts to one hearing, then the other (as the film's tagline says, Zuckerberg makes a few enemies), you'll likely feel lost. There's no way to ground yourself in the images you're absorbing; the film just throws you in. This brilliant bit of editing portends the morally questionable path Zuckerberg heads down while also reflecting the very nature of Facebook. Just as you're unsure what exactly is happening in these first glimpses of the legal proceedings, so are Zuckerberg and company unsure of what Facebook is going to become. Numerous times throughout the film, characters admit to "not knowing what it is." It's huge, epic in a way that few things are. It spans the globe while being limited to screens. It's something profoundly modern, but handled with the film- making mastery of cinema's finest auteurs.
Perhaps the highlight of the film is Aaron Sorkin's phenomenal screenplay. The dialogue flies fast and sharp, ably including the techno-babble but tempering it with humor and enough layman's terms to keep the audience in the loop. The inclusion of multiple points of view lends the film a sense of fairness and accuracy. Of course you expect that there's exaggeration for the sake of being more cinematic, dramatic, or entertaining, but the extensive attention paid to each character makes the story easier to believe than other films based on true stories.
Sorkin's words sound perfectly acidic and natural coming out of Jesse Eisenberg. Eisenberg deserves awards attention for his performance as Zuckerberg; this is the role that will hopefully catapult him to the star status he so deserves (and has received in moderation after great turns in Adventureland and Zombieland). Andrew Garfield continues to impress as cofounder Eduardo Saverin; he now has three fantastic turns under his belt for the year, with Never Let Me Go yet to come (in my neck of the woods, at least).
Justin Timberlake's involvement in the film likely gave some film aficionados pause, but he's a natural fit for Napster founder Sean Parker. He exudes confidence, energy, and just the right amount of sleaziness. Also worth noting is Rooney Mara, who has a small role but does big things with it, and will get her chance to shine under Fincher's direction again as Lisbeth Salander in the American take on The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo.
At two hours, The Social Network is a long movie but it never feels like it. The film possesses an elegance of design not unlike that of the website it revolves around. Every aspect of the film is handled just so; from the gorgeous cinematography to the great cast, from the fitting editing to the unforgettable writing. The Social Network is, perhaps, the film of the year. It's timely and timeless, a combination that few films can ever hope to achieve.
Ambiguity is a powerful tool for a writer, filmmaker, or any creative person. But there's a fine line between ambiguity and lazy storytelling. The Last Exorcism, unfortunately, makes use of the latter. The film poses many questions but doesn't feel the need to answer most of them, meaning at the end of the film, the audience isn't so much pondering the themes of religious doubt and the adverse effects of shame so much as wondering what the hell just happened.
The lack of clarity is only made more frustrating by the overly shaky handy-cam cinematography. I normally enjoy this mode of filmmaking, and it was proved to be effective for horror films in last year's phenomenal breakout Paranormal Activity, but Daniel (the cameraman) has a bit too shaky of a hand for the style to work well here. I actually got a headache from some of the later, jumpier scenes.
It's a shame the film meanders to such a laughable conclusion, because it starts with such promise. The first half hour or so is surprisingly funny, effectively parodying the genre (specifically exorcism-based horror films) and presenting a religious slant to the proceedings that makes things interesting initially but ultimately seems cheap and even stupid. Two fine performances from Patrick Fabian and Ashley Bell are wasted as the material goes from subtly self-reflexive to blatantly generic. The horror that unfolds along the way rarely generates any real scares, settling instead for bursts of weirdness, cheap jumps, and ultimately, an unattractive mixture of stupidity and discomfort.
The lack of clarity is only made more frustrating by the overly shaky handy-cam cinematography. I normally enjoy this mode of filmmaking, and it was proved to be effective for horror films in last year's phenomenal breakout Paranormal Activity, but Daniel (the cameraman) has a bit too shaky of a hand for the style to work well here. I actually got a headache from some of the later, jumpier scenes.
It's a shame the film meanders to such a laughable conclusion, because it starts with such promise. The first half hour or so is surprisingly funny, effectively parodying the genre (specifically exorcism-based horror films) and presenting a religious slant to the proceedings that makes things interesting initially but ultimately seems cheap and even stupid. Two fine performances from Patrick Fabian and Ashley Bell are wasted as the material goes from subtly self-reflexive to blatantly generic. The horror that unfolds along the way rarely generates any real scares, settling instead for bursts of weirdness, cheap jumps, and ultimately, an unattractive mixture of stupidity and discomfort.