walterbruno37

The Coens usually combine wit and accessibility in a formula that works for many audiences. Here, the wit is sly, scattered, and arcane, like a foreign delicacy. Slow to bind into one set of meanings, it requires patience; however, in the end, it's worth the effort. The Coens are depicting the dream factory of mid-century Hollywood ("Pictchas"); how it drew marginals into its mainstream; and the competing missions and claims on that industry. Their main observation is about actors and movies, not about ideology; for that reason, the character played by Clooney is a vessel for anybody's ideas. The ideological polarities of 2015 will drive some informed viewers into opposition because the Coens offend almost everyone and tend to use caricature. Woody Allen would have had less trouble making this essay, and the Coens might have looked for a unifying context -- perhaps, with everyone working on a single film, not several. However, Hail Caesar works for those who stay and pay attention, and its final scenes are brilliant and insightful.

A brave acting effort that entertains in moments, but tends to miss its target. This film will please some and frustrate others, hence my rating of 5/10. In general, the film is too schematic and too brief in the quiet moments, opting instead for highly theatrical poses. This is more about a mom and mental health than it is about the characters of Diane and Steve. There is little character development, and, when it does develop, it's due to external circumstances. The transitions in Steve, from calm to manic, are disconnected and ungrounded, making for random slice-of-life, not drama. There are too many nice-but-dysfunctional people in this film and they don't say interesting things or embark on any story arc, but merely prattle their dysfunctions. They're wildly improbable and ornamented and often ring hollow, e.g., Steve's mother, a potty-mouth pole-dancer, but who suddenly becomes a literary translator; ???? She may be a decent mom, but still bristles at being called Madame by the authorities, a psychological nonsense: is she a peasant, a hippie, or a grad student? Here and there, there are bits of anti-English bias, all gratuitous and juvenile. Gratuitous too, is the Steve-Kyla interaction. Instead of anchoring the story of the homeschooling within a thematic subplot, Kyla's part merely throws us off the track, as she suffers, giggles, and then explodes in Steve's face, a moment that's as histrionic and arch as everything else in the film. The character of Steve is a type, not a person; he's an enigma who presented too few reasons for me to care about him. By film's end, this (overlong) journey is sketchy. The main plot device does work well, but is ruined by a ludicrous and self-indulgent last scene.