Mickey 17

Director: Bong Joon Ho
Starring: Robert Pattinson, Naomi Ackie, Steven Yeun, Patsy Ferran, Cameron Britton, Daniel Henshall, Stephen Park, Anamaria Vartolomei, Toni Collette, Mark Ruffalo, Holiday Grainger
Running Time: 137 min.
Rating: R

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★) 

Sometimes a movie just lands with a thud, any initial curiosity factor wearing off as it fades into obscurity following its release. And while flopping at the box office isn't a new phenomenon, the turnaround has gotten progressively faster, with even high quality projects struggling to find a foothold. But when it's a film from the Oscar winning director of one of the more popular and deserving Best Picture winners in years, that's bigger news. Especially since Bong Joon Ho's unfairly overlooked sci-fi satire Mickey 17 seems like the kind of visionary achievement audiences would get behind. 

That mainstream moviegoers passed on it could be viewed as a compliment, or at least proof Bong can still paint on a canvas this large without sacrificing the uniqueness and complexity he brought to his previous work. Based on Edward Ashton's 2022 novel Mickey7, the filmmaker's highly anticipated follow up to Parasite throws a lot at the wall, but much of its philosophical absurdity sticks, with some of its better elements recalling Star Wars, Catch-22, Brazil and Southland Tales. But as chaotic and trippy as this ride is, it never feels disjointed or patched together, its few flaws resulting from a lengthy, overambitious final act that still manages to succeed on its own terms. 

It's 2050 and an awkward, down-on-his luck Mickey Barnes (Robert Pattinson) and his friend Timo (Steven Yeun) find themselves at the mercy of a murderous loan shark who vows to travel the ends of the Earth to exact revenge. So their solution is to leave the planet, joining a shuttle expedition spearheaded by slimy, ex-politician Kenneth Marshall (Mark Ruffalo) and his wife Ylfa (Toni Collette). While Timo becomes a pilot, Mickey volunteers as an "Expendable," sacrificing his life in treacherous jobs, only to be continuously cloned in a reprinting machine to do it all again, memory intact. 

During Mickey's four year trip, he develops a romance with security officer Nasha (Naomie Ackie) as the crew eventually arrive on ice-planet Niflheim to prepare for colonization. But when Mickey's seventeenth incarnation is sent out to capture a native life form known as a "Creeper" for testing, he survives, returning to discover a Mickey 18 has already replaced him. Violating Marshall's rules against "Multiples," Mickey 17 forms a strained alliance with his wilder, more aggressive doppelganger so both can avoid permanent extermination.  

As the colony's guinea pig and literal crash test dummy, an impressionable Mickey begins his journey believing he's escaped the turmoil and oppression on Earth to serve a greater purpose with this assignment. Instead, he'll discover the hand he's been dealt is far worse, occupying the bottom rung of a cruel caste system wherein he's sacrificed to the whims of Marshall's insatiable greed.

Hauled up in claustrophobic living quarters and regularly fed slop for meals, Mickey's been manipulated into accepting his lot without a second thought, much like the rest of the lower class. In a society ruled by an oafish king there's no room for individual thought or resistance, at least until an unexpected turn of events challenges that. An easy target for those who wish to mock him, even Mickey's one supposed friend is indifferent to his suffering, which is creatively depicted in a darkly humorous montage that ends with his latest version being spit out of a giant printer. 

Resigned to the physical and emotional trauma of each demise, Mickey consoles himself with the fact each demise isn't really the end. But in many ways it's worse in that he's a human science experiment, ogled at with a mixture of pity and callous curiosity by his peers. The lone exception is his no-nonsense, resourceful girlfriend Nasha, who sticks by whichever version of him she gets next. 

When number 17 doesn't perish as expected, his interactions with the cynical and rebellious 18 results in crazy, often hilarious shenanigans involving recreational drugs and a compellingly complicated love quadrangle involving Nasha and fellow security agent Kai (Anamaria Vartolomei). There's also an incredible scene where Marshall invites Mickey to a dinner that's not only emblematic of the film's themes, but a turning point for him in truly comprehending his place in this zealot's capitalistic food chain. And since it takes the power of the masses to rise up against tyrannical oppression, much of the third act involves that battle to thwart the clownish dictator's dominance.

Adopting a strangely high-pitched voice, unkempt hair and shy, clumsy body language, the versatile Pattinson is astonishing as this odd outcast we can't help but root for. Carefully skirting the line between comedy and drama, he hits all the right notes in giving what has to be the most intriguing turn of his career. Naomi Ackie is a force as Nasha, injecting heart, loyalty and determination into an unresistant character willing to do anything for Mickey, even if it means jeopardizing her own life. A far less loyal Timo is played to squirrely, double crossing perfection by Yeun while Vartolomei impresses as the good hearted but compliant Kai, torn between her feelings for Mickey and an allegiance to the system. 

Ruffalo's brilliantly off-the-wall performance as this failed politician turned smarmy authoritarian is a riot, with the actor very clearly incorporating Trump-like mannerisms into Marshall's personality and demeanor. Under normal circumstances that could come across as a stunt, but in this sociopolitical farce, it completely works. And Ruffalo doesn't hold back, devouring every scene as this laughably incompetent man child who's just delusional enough to be dangerous. This idea is only bolstered by Marshall's bootlicking minions and conniving wife, portrayed with sarcastic flair by a devilish Collette.

The film's finale is bolstered by Fiona Crombie's production design and some surprisingly strong visual effects for the Creepers, who play an enormously important role in the central plot. Part sci-fi, part scathing social critique, Bong manages to create a wholly original universe that has us both laughing and cringing at the circumstances befalling our hapless, sympathetic hero. But what resonates most is Bong's timely examination of how unchecked technology gives those in power another dangerous tool to control the masses.                       

Poor Things

Director: Yorgos Lanthimos
Starring: Emma Stone, Mark Ruffalo, Willem Dafoe, Ramy Youssef, Christopher Abbott, Suzy Bemba, Jerrod Carmichael, Kathryn Hunter, Vicki Pepperdine, Margaret Qualley, Hanna Schygulla, Keeley Forsyth
Running Time: 142 min.
Rating: R

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

It's hard to pinpoint the exact moment Yorgos Lanthimos's Poor Things pivots from an extremely weird, Frankenstein-inspired horror fantasy into something really special, but you'll know when it gets there. An oddly acquired taste that only grows stronger with each wacky, sensational development, in some ways it stylistically recalls the best of Terry Gilliam or Tim Burton before both got swallowed up by the system. But while still somehow managing to feel completely original, it's also a great twisted social satire, unironically navigating morally complicated waters to provide a thrilling, frequently hilarious experience. 

Given the MPAA's famously low tolerance for sex and nudity, Lanthimos's ability to escape with an 'R' rating is a feat in itself, as what starts as a Universal monster movie morphs into this globe trekking, fantastical comedy-adventure. With a steampunk infused look and imaginative production design, its atmosphere is unmatched by anything else in the genre, even as it's sometimes difficult to classify what that genre exactly is. It covers a lot of ground, all of which is navigated in Emma Stone's fearless performance. And while everyone's been talking about her willingness to go all out for the film's many graphic and controversial scenes, that's secondary to the other unexpected places she takes this unique character.

In Victorian London, an eccentric, facially disfigured surgeon named Godwin Baxter (Willem Dafoe) is looking after the childlike Bella (Stone), a young woman who while pregnant killed herself by jumping off a bridge. Now functioning with an infant's mind after Godwin replaces her brain with that of her unborn baby's, he recruits med student Max McCandles (Ramy Youssef) to track Bella's progress. But after falling in love with her and proposing marriage at Godwin's insistence, sleazy lawyer Duncan Wedderburn (Mark Ruffalo) arrives to finalize the contract.  

In the midst of exploring her own body and burgeoning sexual desires, Bella agrees to run off with Duncan, leaving Max behind, while Godwin moves on to another human project. But the mismatched couple's adventurous romp turns into a disaster when an increasingly curious Bella yearns to experience the world on her terms. As a whiny, insecure Duncan attempts to tighten the reigns and assert control over her, Bella must use the experience she's gained to decide between following this troublesome path or returning to the only life she knows. 

Based on Alasdair Gray's 1992 novel, this begins in classic horror territory, right down to an obsessively brilliant doctor's experiment and Robbie Ryan's stark black and white cinematography. Even before Godwin's pressured by Max for answers, it doesn't take long to figure out Bella is as much a test subject as the mutant animals found on the grounds. But it's Stone's mannerisms, physicality, line delivery and  distinct walk that reflects a child's mental and emotional inability to function within this adult woman's body. 

Lanthimos and Stone to make some bold choices that will immediately have viewers rooting Bella on, even in the cringiest of scenes. While Bella's decision to run away with Duncan is clearly a response to her character's sexual curiosity, it's the slimy suitor who seems more desperately in need of a brain and personality transplant, revealing himself a far bigger baby than Bella. But it's through his shenanigans that real change overtakes her, though not necessarily the kind Duncan wants. Stone may be remarkable but Ruffalo is perfect as her foil, bringing a quirky likeability to a drunken, debaucherous man child who's mentally unraveling at the mere thought of Bella openly questioning the rules of sophisticated society.

After a hugely entertaining dance number that serves as the first act's centerpiece, Bella and Duncan embark on a transformative cruise that Lanthimos fills with vibrant colors and jaw-dropping effects that resemble a dreamscape come to life. And there's a great interlude involving two passengers (played by Jerrod Carmichael and Hanna Schygulla) that further fuel Bella's philosophical curiosity and Duncan's eventual breakdown. 

When Bella winds up working in a brothel under the loony Madame Swiney (Kathryn Hunter), we already have ideas where this can go, at least until Tony McNamara's script subverts those expectations, using it as a thematic launching pad for Bella's final challenge. Going back to face the ailing father figure who deceived her and fiancé she abandoned, an even bigger obstacle awaits in reconciling the person she was with who she's now become.

By returning to the husband and life she had before leaping to her death, Bella attempts to flee from the men in her life, only to find herself back in a similar prison. General Alfie Blessington (Christopher Abbott) is just like the rest of them, but worse, leaving little wonder as to why "Victoria" felt there was no escape. With Bella now occupying the vessel that woman once resided, a new reality emerges when she takes matters into her own hands, utilizing the knowledge and experience she's gained to assert her independence. 

The victim of a medical procedure gone awry, or maybe exactly as planned, Bella navigates the world through different eyes, discovering it's just as cruel and unforgiving as when she first left it. Fully equipped with the tools to break those shackles, she gets the last laugh by shaping her own destiny. Brilliantly bizarre but hardly inaccessible, Lanthimos knows what he doing, endlessly imaginative in how he brings all these realistic sensibilities to a demented fairy tale. But everything comes down to Stone, who hits all the notes an actress possibly can in a single role, taking us on a wild, mind bending trip that isn't easy to shake.                                         

Spotlight

 
Director: Tom McCarthy
Starring: Mark Ruffalo, Michael Keaton, Rachel McAdams, Liev Schreiber, John Slattery, Stanley Tucci, Brian d'Arcy James, Billy Crudup, Jamey Sheridan
Rating: R
Running Time: 129 min.

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

Spotlight is a very specific kind of film in that it's a meat and potatoes procedural that doesn't wallow in emotions or dwell in the moment. Director Tom McCarthy's characters are on a deadline, back when the phrase "on a deadline" was a thing. When it carried a sense of urgency because print journalism was still alive and kicking. For those who remember that phrase, used it, or relished watching characters in movies that did, this story is yours. What it's actually about is another issue altogether, depicting the true events of 2001, when The Boston Globe uncovered a massive child molestation scandal and cover-up within the local Catholic Archdiocese. And it reveals the "how" in painstaking detail. Step-by-step. Witness-by-witness. Clearly and concisely. There's little doubt it's a tight film, but also operating on an entirely different level in depicting where journalism was then as opposed to now. 

It's almost embarrassing to admit how effectively Spotlight takes us back to a simpler time since it dates any writer my age or older who'd agree it doesn't really feel like THAT long ago.  It was back when reporters were given slack to fact check big stories. When those in charge of major publications went to great lengths to insure the information disseminated to the public was accurate. When newspapers were not only trusted and respected, but even wielded some degree of prestige and power. This is essential because if these events occurred now, the entire film could be relegated to a tweet that appears on screen, truthful or not. And make no mistake that Spotlight is first and foremost about uncovering the truth. It's no wonder critics and writers have been going gaga over it since McCarthy's film not only makes this airtight case against these predators, but objectively rallies behind the type of journalism it took to nail them.

In 2001, new editor Marty Baron (Liev Schrieber) joins The Boston Globe, where he'll oversee the Spotlight team, a small group of journalists tasked with writing in-depth, investigative articles that often take months of research before finally going to press. After discovering an earlier Globe column about the Archbishop of Boston's potential knowledge of a priest sexually abusing children and the lawyer who tried prosecuting it, Marty urges editors Robby Robinson (Michael Keaton) and Ben Bradlee Jr. (John Slattery) to have their Spotlight team dig into it. 

Reporters Michael Rezendes (Mark Ruffalo), Sacha Pfeiffer (Rachel McAdams) and Matt Carroll (Brian d'Arcy James), track down and interview key witnesses before discovering that this entire scandal could be larger and travel higher up on the food chain than anyone imagined. But as they inch closer, they must wrestle with not only their own moral conflicts regarding these revelations, but those within the powerful Catholic Church determined to squash the story.

While this is primarily a process movie, it's littered with little moments within that process that transcend that material and turn it into something that cuts deeper. Whether it's the sudden realization by a Globe reporter that pedophiles almost literally live next door or another investigative team member coming face-to-face with a priest all too eager to not only admit his transgressions, but sickly and proudly rationalize them on the record. It's scenes like that, as well as the testimonials from a variety of different victims, witnesses and lawyers that run the gamut in terms of their experiences, giving the film its necessary emotional kick.

It's in the newsroom scenes where information is often gathered without today's unlimited reliance on the internet that will make these reporters' jobs virtually obsolete in only a few years. They go to the library for research. They physically haul books and records down the stairs. Notes are taken with only a pen and paper. For the team, most of whom grew up in this city that feels more like a close-knit neighborhood, they're tasked with exposing the corruption and sin they believed the Catholic Church was there to shelter them from.

Ruffalo's Mike Rezendes is most shaken by the revelations, but thankfully also the most stubborn, pushing lawyer Mitchell Garabedian (well played by Stanley Tucci) for any witnesses or evidence that could break a story that should have theoretically hit the presses years ago. Why it didn't and The Boston Globe's oblivious complicity in that serves to only heighten the film's statement that there's never a shortage of people willing to turn the other cheek for a variety of reasons, regardless of how heinous the crime. 

With a newsroom role that recalls his fantastic turn in Ron Howard's criminally overlooked The Paper, Michael Keaton shines as Robinson, the Spotlight editor torn between his close relationships within the Church, the editorial decisions of a new boss he may not necessarily agree with, and employees who often disagree with him. Keaton plays it straight down the middle, fairly and sensibly, reminding us that while he often excels at crazy, he's as equally skilled at subtlety. If last year was his comeback, now we're starting to reap the rewards. 

Schreiber's performance as Jewish outsider Marty Baron is so quietly commanding and natural it's sometimes easy to forget Barron's even in the room, much less controlling and guiding the entire investigation. We're prepared for a hotshot coming in to tell everyone how to do their jobs, but the actor makes an interesting choice in playing the Globe's new editor as a professional listener entirely cognizant of the fact there are two possible stories you can take to print. Only one will make the necessary impact. 

If the inclusion of John Slattery's Ben Bradlee, Jr. represents one of the picture's many tangent connections to All The President's Men, both the character and performance aren't all that far removed from Mad Men's Roger Sterling, which can never be a bad thing. It's somewhat perplexing that along with Ruffalo, the Academy chose to also honor Rachel McAdams' information-gathering turn as Sacha Pfeiffer with a nomination. It's not that there's anything especially wrong or underwhelming in what she does, but that it's difficult to recall what was done, as she's saddled with what's easily the least developed part of the major players, bringing little more than what's written on the page. If we are doling out an Oscar nod, either Schreiber, Ruffalo or Keaton would have been more worthy candidates.

For journalism junkies, watching this might rank as the cinematic equivalent of biting into a big, juicy steak, and if there are criticisms to be leveled, it's likely to come from more casual moviegoers looking for more sizzle than substance. It's easy to argue McCarthy is so justifiably enamored with the reporting procedures that we have to occasionally remind ourselves what the movie's actually about. And when we do, the realization sets it in that it's still all about journalism and the devolving newspaper industry before anything else. This includes the actual crimes, and at one point, even 9/11, which McCarthy presents as almost an unexpected obstacle on their way to obtaining sealed court documents for their story. Unlike the aforementioned All The President's Men or the more recent Zodiac, this isn't visually memorable or even all that inventively directed, but like both, it succeeds in taking us deep inside the newsroom and along for the ride. That something this flawlessly constructed only suffers when compared to those two behemoths has to be a good sign. In getting its story right, Spotlight proves to be as focused, thorough and determined as its characters.
   

Begin Again

Director: John Carney
Starring: Keira Knightley, Mark Ruffalo, Adam Levine, Catherine Keener, Hailee Steinfeld, James Corden, CeeLo Green, Mos Def
Running Time: 104 min.
Rating: R

★★★ ½ (out of ★★★★) 

John Carney's musical dramedy Begin Again is so effortlessly fun and enjoyable that it's easy to get swept away in the songs and forget that it actually raises some interesting questions. What exactly does it mean to "sell out?" How does stardom change someone? What should drive an artist to make music? Why is the music industry collapsing? None of these questions are overtly asked or answered, but they're present the whole time, bubbling beneath the surface of what we think will be a fluffy rom-com.While it's become a cliche to call any movie "a love letter to" whatever (in this case music and New York City) this one actually sort of is. But it's definitely not a romance. It's about our relationship to music, told through that music and two characters who are about as real and authentic as it gets.  
 
There's one pivotal scene that serves as the jumping-off point for the entire story and the moment our lead characters' lives converge. It's so important we see it twice, from two different perspectives. Struggling singer-songwriter Gretta James (Keira Knightley) is performing in a dingy, Lower East Side bar in NYC and she's fairly unimpressive. Not terrible mind you, but singing exactly how you'd expect someone of her limited experience level to. But the second time we see and hear that same performance it's through the eyes and ears of divorced, alcoholic record label executive Dan Mulligan (Mark Ruffalo) whose best days in the industry are behind him, having just been kicked out of the company he co-founded.

Though drunk, Dan doesn't experience what everyone in the bar does, but instead what  could be, adding sounds in his head and watching all the dormant instruments on stage come to life, invisibly playing on their own. He's conducting his own symphony with Gretta as its centerpiece, imagining the kind of album they'll make and release together. Of course, she thinks he's nuts. And the best thing about it is how she's completely right, but also almost equally nuts for going along for the ride. It's an incredible scene that not only highlights the power of music, but recognizes the role of producer, whose job it often is to see potential when no one else does.

The film's structure is kind of interesting, with the story not technically under way until that bar performance. Separate flashbacks show how Gretta and Dan got to this point, with neither exactly riding high lately. She's broken up with longtime boyfriend and songwriting partner Dave Kohl (Adam Levine), just as he exploded as a mainstream star. Temporarily crashing at her old friend Steve's (James Corden), she's considering a move back to England, worrying there may be nothing left for her in New York. Dan is meanwhile battling best friend and business partner Saul (Mos Def) over the direction of their record label and losing. He's also confronted with the harsh reality that his rebellious teen daughter Violet (Hailee Steinfeld) and ex-wife Miriam (Catherine Keener) resent him for walking out, rebuffing his latest attempt to be a father again at his convenience. It's here where Gretta and Dan's paths cross at the bar, with him eventually convincing her to record an album after much prompting. The catch is that they'll do it publicly at various locations across New York City, funding it themselves and recruiting a team of talented unknown musicians. They're an unusual pair faced with a difficult challenge, but the project eventually proves to be a first step toward rebuilding their lives.

For a while you're so lost in the music that it becomes just as easy to forget there's a very deliberate plot, though not necessarily one that adheres to the strict formula we're used to. Most of the music is written by former New Radicals frontman Gregg Alexander of "You Get What You Give" fame. While that 1998 single cemented the band as a one-hit wonder, these tunes not only sound nothing like it, but could almost be considered his response to the industry that facilitated its existence. It's a lot closer to the acoustic, singer-songwritery sound found in Carney's previous music-based film, Once, and they're well performed by both Knightley and Levine. They offer up dueling versions of the ballad "Lost Stars," which would seem to be a lock for a Best Original Song Oscar nod despite that exclusive category's often crazy qualifications.

The screenplay succeeds in part by not making Gretta some great undiscovered talent, but a bar singer who probably wouldn't be signed by a major label based on her vocal ability. But the true irony is that less talented artists are signed everyday for reasons having nothing to do with their music, as much of that can just be fixed in the studio. This discussion of style over substance is nicely addressed in the film, with Dan realistically written as a smart producer who knows this, but thinks his profit-hungry business partner has gone too far in the other direction. He's probably right, but also too much of a mess to articulate it or try to compromise in any way. True to his skill set, Dan knows Gretta's limitations and what needs to be done to work around them to give her the confidence to complete the album. And that just might be the sharpest aspect of Carney's script.

Knightley's an odd but inspired choice for this role since on paper it wouldn't seem like it could work at all. Strong but never transcendent in everything in which she's appeared, most of her previous performances have elicited a respectable golf clap rather than an enthusiastic rave from this reviewer. That many still closely associate her with period dramas would seem to only increase the difficulty in picturing her as a hipster musician performing at bars on the Lower East Side. Well, consider this that enthusiastic rave since Knightley connects in a way she hasn't before, making Gretta instantly relatable and recognizable to the viewer within minutes of her first appearance. Charmingly adorable and sarcastic, but never cloying, she's easy to root for and Knightley is just good enough a singer to sell this. It wouldn't work for the story if she were any better or worse vocally, so in that sense Carney really knew what he was doing in casting her opposite Ruffalo.

Such a chameleon that it's hard to believe he's the same actor who recently played wrestler Dave Schultz in Foxcatcher, Ruffalo is carving out a career similar to Philip Seymour Hoffman's in that he can invisibly step into anyone. Dan's a walking disaster who's basically torpedoing his life and career, selfishly pushing everyone away. This shouldn't be a likable guy. Then just watch what Ruffalo subtly does with him to win us over. But if there's a weak area in the movie it's the sub-plot involving Dan's inability to connect with his estranged daughter, though in fairness nothing about it is handled poorly. It's just kind of there, with my indifference undoubtedly stemming from having just seen Hailee Steinfeld play nearly the same exact angry teen role opposite Kevin Costner in 3 Days To Kill and it's starting to feel old hat.

While the casting of Maroon 5's Adam Levine is the decision most likely to induce eye-rolling amongst more discerning viewers, his actual performance doesn't, strangely accumulating more facial hair the more unlikable he becomes. By taking this on he also opens himself up to the criticism that he's just "playing himself," as Dave Kohl (not Grohl) could easily be described in the same unflattering terms sometimes ascribed to him by dissenters. But the movie's more interesting than that, looking beyond the reductive reasoning that Kohl's just simply a self-absorbed sell-out. It's into the "how" and "why." Are these people born or made? Would anyone who experiences a taste of success or fame automatically re-prioritize? Without spoiling too much, toward the end of the film we're given the rare treat of actually seeing an artist seemingly "sell-out" mid-performance, if that's indeed what's happening. Based on what we see here, Levine just might be a slightly more interesting performer as Kohl than as himself. It's not that he lacks talent in reality, just that the musical material his character's given does seem to suit his singing style better.

The biggest question explored is the artist's purpose for making music. Is it done out of the love of the art or the having that art reach millions of people and bring them happiness? Or maybe it's just about the money. Some of the best scenes occur between Gretta and Kohl, including an early one in which she slaps him for what seems like no reason, until we realize both characters communicate with an unspoken language that exists between songwriters. They got there first and are a step ahead of us, knowing something we don't. How often does that happen?  I'm still not sure the film's eventual solution to what ails the music industry is the right answer, but it works for this circumstance. The timely issue of artist compensation is rarely even addressed in movies, so I'll take it. Let's just say what Dan and Gretta eventually do with their album works only for a certain type of artist, while calling into question how much profit artists actually see when at the mercy of a record label. The only exception is if you're so big that you are the label, or in someone like Taylor Swift's case, bigger than it.

This project was formerly known under it's working title, Can a Song Save Your Life?, which is not only more memorable, but a better encapsulation of what it's actually about. Given its themes, it's almost painfully ironic that commerce won out and this was instead released with a generic title that practically oozes corporate blandness. Luckily, the end result does anything but that. Under normal circumstances we know how a feel-good musical drama like this wraps up. We know who Gretta should end up with and what should happen with Dan's career and family. Carney is refreshingly uninterested in any of this because it's irrelevant. It's not about exes or shattered relationships and he doesn't even "go there" with Gretta and Dan's relationship even though he conceivably could and get away with it. It's just that there's no reason to and it would be a betrayal of what the story's really about: The music. It never takes a backseat. Much like the album being produced in it, Begin Again tries and succeeds in making the absolute most of what it has.
        

Foxcatcher

Director: Bennett Miller
Starring: Steve Carell, Channing Tatum, Mark Ruffalo, Vanessa Redgrave, Sienna Miller, Anthony Michael Hall, Gut Boyd, Brett Rice
Running Time: 134 min.
Rating: R

★★★★ (out of ★★★★) 

Every so often an actor crawls so far deep under the skin of a deplorable character that they almost make viewers ill with each on screen appearance. That's only magnified when the character in question is based on an actual person, or more accurately in this case, a real life monster. Steve Carell's performance as John du Pont, the man convicted of murdering Olympic gold medal wrestler Dave Schultz in 1996, is so disturbing that "understanding" his twisted motivations and emotional instability doesn't help soften the edge. The more you learn, the more you'll hate his guts. Empathy isn't an option here. He's a sad, lonely sack of a man so desperate for respect and adulation that he's sure throwing his family's money around will earn him a seat at the cool kids' table. And for a little while it works, until his personal hang-ups and mommy issues start taking center stage.

Du Pont is the nightmare version of one of those isolated, rich sports franchise owners who get way too involved in an arena they know nothing about. And his beady eyes show no traces of the funnyman who starred on The Office or The 40-Year-Old Virgin, even as Carell and Moneyball director Bennett Miller force the audience to reassign the latter film's protagonist to a dramatic tragedy, making us wonder what happens when guys like him turn into psychopaths. Du Pont finds his star protege in someone who seems to share a similar philosophy and is almost as lonely, searching for a mentor and father figure despite already having the best one there is. Uncompromisingly bleak and unnervingly cold, Foxcatcher does manage to be darkly funny at times, but more often it's deadly serious, unflinchingly presenting its true crime story and the unusual circumstances surrounding it.

It's 1987, three years after brothers and training partners Mark (Channing Tatum) and Dave Schultz (Mark Ruffalo) both won wrestling gold at the Los Angeles Olympics. The older, more renowned Dave's career is continuing to thrive as both an athlete and a coach while the more uncertain Mark struggles to map out his future, relegated to taking speaking engagements where they mistake him for his brother. He knows he wants to compete at the World Championships and go on to win gold at the '88 games in Seoul, but isn't sure of the path that will get him get there. Enter eccentric millionaire chemical heir John E. du Pont, a self-professed "patriot" who offers to financially support him and his team, allowing them to board and train at his family's famed Foxcatcher Farm estate in rural Pennsylvania, where he's just built a state-of-the-art wrestling facility.

For the directionless Mark, the offer proves too enticing to pass up, but Dave is a much harder sell, refusing to uproot his wife, Nancy (Sienna Miller) and two kids for a big payday. Things start off well, until it becomes painfully clear John's a paranoid sociopath who's slowly breaking Mark down emotionally and using the team as a weapon against his disapproving mother Jean (Vanessa Redgrave). Her equestrian pursuits a top priority, she views wrestling as "low" and her son's obsession with it ridiculous. The more involved John gets with his team, the more dangerous he becomes, pitting the brothers against each other in a desperate, pathetic bid to vicariously achieve the success he never had on his own, with tragic results.

The scenes between du Pont and Mark are so quiet and awkward you can hear a pin drop. From the beginning there's a tension as Mark tries to figure out what this strange man's motives are. But it is a generous offer, with John being legitimately sincere about his desire for Mark and Team USA to succeed, at least in his own mind. Like most delusional or mentally unbalanced people, he means exactly what he's saying, tricking himself before anyone else.

Seeds of the millionaire's eventual psychotic breakdown are subtly planted from the moment Carell first shuffles onto screen, his face hidden behind heavy aging makeup and a bulbous prosthetic nose, which he seems be talking through while panting through his mouth. It all enhances the overall effect, even if it's present only supplement a transformation that's already creepy and masterful on its own. He's working from the inside out to create du Pont, or at least some version of him that rivals the insanity of the real man.

While it's tempting to label Mark as merely a musclehead from the get-go, there's no reason for him to doubt his benefactor's intentions other than that he seems like any other eccentric rich guy on the surface.  And therein lies that tightrope walk that is Channing Tatum's performance, which stands as the best work he's ever done, even when compared to the major creative strides he's made over the past couple of years.  He makes you think Mark isn't the sharpest tool in the box, and he may not be, but is careful enough to play him as lonely and slightly gullible. And yet he's still perceptive enough to sense when John's gone too far and it's time to leave.

If John has no friends then Mark has exactly one: His big brother. In an incredible early training scene you see the love and respect Dave has for him, yet also sense some of the resentment and jealousy coming from Mark. Du Pont pounces on that, but a switch flips when Dave rejects his offer to also train at Foxcatcher. Perceiving him as a threat to his "friendship" with Mark, he silently fumes when he seems to take over his role as mentor, father and coach. But it's a role that Dave always owned and any underlying tension between brothers doesn't come close to matching the tension present in every uncomfortable interaction du Pont has. But it's the eventual addition of Dave into the equation that really sets him off.

Scenes of John's creepiness and eccentricity border on the darkly comic, whether he's interrupting practice with a loaded firearm, buying tanks, or displaying the team's medals in his trophy room. It's especially evident when he convinces himself he's not only an inspiring leader, but a superstar wrestler, actually taking to the mat himself without any knowledge of the sport, nor an athletic bone in his body. One of the saddest and funniest movie moments of the year unfolds when he clumsily tries to advise and coach, with Dave looking on incredulously and his own mother pitying him from the sidelines. Dave senses something's off with him from the start with Ruffalo, ever so slightly implying those doubts on his quizzical face the entire time.

Ruffalo would seem to be an odd choice to portray the fallen Schultz brother, but he spends each minute of his screen time proving otherwise. Unlike Tatum, he doesn't look like a wrestler, but he captures the tenacity and methodical approach of someone who's risen to the top of their sport. The actor does so much by seemingly doing so little, making sure we know Dave has the missing piece of the puzzle his little brother, arguably the more natural athlete, lacks. It's in how he talks, walks and even thinks. Mark doesn't have that confidence and the problem is in where he goes to find it. Dave represents everything du Pont hates. Respected not for the size of his bank account, but his accomplishments, he's the guy this weasel has spent his life trying to be. He's a top shelf athlete and human being so completely sure of himself and committed to his family that no amount of money could lure him to Foxcatcher. It's his concern for Mark that ultimately gets him there. And it ends up being his last stop.

It's rare you find a picture this consistently dark and depressing, with hardly a moment of uplift to be found, unless you count some of du Pont's theatrics, but even that's tempered by the knowledge of  impending doom, omnipresent in Rob Simonsen's hypnotically sinister score and a dreary but beautiful Foxcatcher Farm that's permanently cloaked in darkness. Fog, rain, night or snow seems to engulf every other shot and once the film settles into its pacing it feels as if the characters and audience are taken on a long death march to the inevitable conclusion, with hearts pounding.

We know what happens but we never really knew how, and the the film's filled with surprising little details along that journey, making us feel that this is a story that hasn't been told and needs to be. That few outside those following the sport even knew about Dave Schultz's younger brother or that the events surrounding the murder revolved around him, only further solidifies that. Watching Carell, Tatum, and Ruffalo pull from each other the performances of their careers is the biggest revelation, but its cold, unsettling approach to an overlooked story is what will linger in your mind long afterward.

The Avengers

Director: Joss Whedon
Starring: Robert Downey Jr., Chris Evans, Mark Ruffalo, Chris Hemsworth, Scarlett Johansson, Jeremy Renner, Tom Hiddleston, Clark Gregg, Cobie Smulders, Stellan Skarsgard, Samuel L. Jackson
Running Time: 143 min.
Rating: PG-13

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

So, how is it that nearly every Marvel superhero movie leading up to this has been either a mixed bag or flat-out failure, yet when the characters assemble in The Avengers, it somehow clicks? It's good, not great, but that it works at all is kind of a miracle considering how uneven the build-up was in getting here. The only explanation is that they found the right guy for the job in Joss Whedon, who clearly understands how this material should be treated and avoids many of the pitfalls made in the movies leading up to it. While it's kind of unfathomable to me that this ranks as the third highest grossing film of all time, at least it's a lot of fun and delivers for the fans what's asked of it, if not more. Yes, it's an overblown, CGI spectacle with a ridiculously mindless finale, but for once in the Marvel universe at least the filmmaker seems aware of it and in on the joke. Most interestingly, all these characters function much better together in one tightly scripted story than apart in their own separate franchises, making the thought of a sequel (especially under Whedon) actually seem somewhat enticing. Though forgive me for just being glad it's over, since I've about had enough of entire Marvel features functioning as trailers and cheap plugs for this effort, which thankfully turns out to be a lot of fun.

The six superheroes known collectively as The Avengers are brought together when Thor's (Chris Hemsworth) evil, adopted brother Loki (Tom Hiddleston) breaks into SHIELD headquarters, gaining possession of a powerful glowing energy cube known as the Tesseract and brainwashing Hawkeye (Jeremy Renner) and Professor Selvig (Stellan Skargard). Given no other options, SHIELD director Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson) and agent Natasha Romanoff/Black Widow (Scarlett Johansson)  recruit Iron Man (Robert Downey, Jr.), Captain America (Chris Evans), Dr. Bruce Banner (Mark Ruffalo) and Thor to try to put a stop to Loki's plan to rule Earth by opening a wormhole that would allow the Chitauri alien race to descend upon this planet and attack. All of these superheroes being able to co-exist and work effectively together is one challenge, but stopping Loki's army from completely decimating New York City and its inhabitants is an even bigger one.

The plot is ridiculous and there isn't a surprise to be found other than how quickly the two and a half hours fly by, but that's fine. The real draw is seeing these familiar characters interact with one other in a fresh, humorous story that plays to the strengths of everyone involved. That all the backstories involving these characters have (for better or worse) been taken care of in the previous Marvel installments allows this one to get down to business right away, and Whedon takes full advantage in the exciting opening prologue that effectively gets the ball rolling with little time wasted. At first I cringed at the prospect of Hiddleston's Loki being the film's chief antagonist, if only because the feud involving him and his brother in Thor was such a slog to get through that the thought of revisiting it on a larger scale would seem to be asking for trouble. Luckily, Loki's depicted as much more of a conniving, menacingly slimy presence this time around than the wimpy whiner we saw in that film and Hiddleston's performance really benfits from it, likely making an impact for even those unfamiliar with the character. The same could be said for all the featured players who are about ten times more intriguing here than they were in their own films. Robert Downey Jr.'s Tony Stark/Iron Man was the best developed superhero leading into this, but even his act, which was starting to show fatigue, is given a shot in the arm when he's surrounded by all these characters he can bounce his sarcasm and cockiness off of. Also along for the ride again is Gwyneth Paltrow, who makes a barefooted cameo as Pepper Potts, and Clark Gregg, who successfully builds on his previously undefined role as Agent Coulson. Even Samuel L. Jackson feels like he has agency and purpose as Nick Fury, leading an actual mission instead of just popping up during or after the credits of every summer superhero blockbuster.

Understandably, Downey could very well be considered the lead in terms of screen time, but what's most impressive about the tight script is how it literally gives everyone something to do without the film feeling overstuffed. The biggest benefactor just might be Scarlett Johansson who after being poorly introduced and developed as Black Widow in Iron Man 2 is redeemed completely as kick ass heroine who basically has a co-leading role alongside Downey, really delivering this time around. It feels like she's in every scene of the movie even when she isn't, which is a sure sign Scarlett gets it right. The only character that genuinely seems underutilized is How I Met Your Mother star Cobie Smulders' Agent Maria Hill. The actress's first semi-substantial big screen role has her unfortunately relegated to merely giving info to Nick Fury and taking orders. I guess it's a start, but here's hoping it's built on and her character is fleshed out more in the sequel since she's given nearly nothing to work with here.

Chris Evans' Captain America benefits from having the most interesting built-in backstory and that's exploited to full effect and his arguments with Downey are a hoot. But the true standout is Ruffalo as Bruce Banner, stepping in for Edward Norton who actually did a fine job in 2008's The Incredible Hulk. On paper, Ruffalo wouldn't seem to be the ideal choice to follow him but his take on the conflict within Banner ends up being the most intriguing performance in the role since Bill Bixby set the gold standard in the late 70's-early 80's TV series. All the movie's best scenes involve the character's complicated relationship with his giant green alter ego and what it takes to keep him in check. When The Hulk does come out it's the most efficient CGI rendering of the character thus far. This entire concoction is enjoyable as a live action cartoon but when Ruffalo's the focus, it feels like more because of his concerted effort to make Banner actually seem like a complex person. While "Complex" and "Avengers" probably shouldn't be used in the same sentence the amusing back-and-forth dialogue between the characters comes the closest it ever has in a Marvel film to approaching genuine cleverness. The third act's is a silly mess for sure, but at least it's an entertaining one with impressive looking effects and crisp editing that still managed to hold my interest on the small screen and in 2D.

This getting a pass because it didn't do enough wrong probably isn't the most glowing recommendation, but I've slowly coming to the realization that these Marvel movies just might not be my "thing." So that I really enjoyed it despite feeling let down by just about every other superhero movie they released prior, might be more of a compliment than it seems. They're a lot of people's thing though and those fans couldn't reasonably be disappointed with any decision Whedon made. There's no getting around the fact that this would be compared and pitted against The Dark Knight Rises over the summer and it might be the ultimate compliment to both filmmakers (okay, mainly Nolan) that I don't even count the two wildly different films as belonging to the same genre. But if we are comparing, they're not even in the same league since the impeccably crafted TDKR actually feels like it's about something, whereas this is just plain fun for the sake of it. It's good to have options and The Avengers most definitely falls in the wheelhouse of a more traditional, ripped-from-the-pages comic book movie. It doesn't change the game in any way, but it's enormously successful in what it's trying to do and makes for legitimately great time. Considering the the mixed bag of Marvel movies preceding it, that's just about as big an accomplishment as it gets for a franchise that doesn't seem to be running out of gas anytime soon.      

Margaret

Director:  Kenneth Lonergan
Anna Paquin, Matt Damon, Mark Ruffalo, Kieran Culkin, J. Smith-Cameron, Matthew Broderick, Allison Janey, Jeannie Berlin, Jean Reno, Kenneth Lonergan, Michael Ealy, John Gallagher Jr., Rosemarie DeWitt, Olivia Thirbly
Running Time: 150 min.
Rating: R

★★★★ (out of ★★★★)

Filmed way back in 2005 and finally released late last year, Kenneth Lonergan's Margaret opens with one of the most emotionally intense death scenes I've seen in a movie. Three minutes seem to go on for an eternity. It's graphic, but that isn't why it's so difficult to get through. Wanting to look away but finding it impossible to do so, I hoped this isn't what really happens if someone's hit by a bus. I preferred thinking they couldn't be conscious long enough to carry on a conversation. That they just instantly black out and have no idea what's happened. That they can't possibly think there's a chance of making it. That their final minutes couldn't be in the hands of random strangers. As the scene wore on, I realized that this is probably exactly how it happens, and that's what made it so frightening. How could a sadistic scene like that be necessary? Lonergan spends the next two and half hours telling us. And this is the SHORTER, theatrical version.The longer director's cut runs three hours, and after seeing this, watching it seems almost mandatory.

The story of the making of Margaret is almost impossible to separate from the events that unfold onscreen, of which that opening bus accident and its aftermath serves as a catalyst for something greater. Sitting on the shelf for over six years entangled in a web of litigation, this little unknown film started popping up atop many "best of" lists last year with the word "masterpiece" floating around. While I'd like to say that word isn't used lightly, too often it is, but such a strong recommendation from so many credible sources was more than enough reason to check it out. And now that I have it's easy to understand the raves. It crawls under your skin in a way few movies today do, tackling issues even fewer successfully could. If it's a masterpiece, it's a messy one, and that feels entirely appropriate considering its depth and scope more closely resembles a great, lost American novel than any recently released dramatic film.

The protagonist's name isn't Margaret, but Lisa Cohen (Anna Paquin), a 17 year-old Manhattan high school student who witnesses that aforementioned bus accident that kills pedestrian Monica Patterson (Allison Janey), and comforts her in her final moments. But she also shares responsibility for causing it along with the driver Jason Berstone (Mark Ruffalo). She lies to the cops about what happened, both out of fear and guilt, before attempting to change her story. This leads to her becoming involved in a wrongful death lawsuit against the MTA, alongside the victim's best friend Emily (Jeannie Berlin).  Almost too intelligent for her own good, Lisa's already overdramatic streak is taken to to new heights as she attempts to cope with her role in what happened. The brunt of her lashing out is directed at her Broadway actress mom Joan (J. Cameron Smith), and as their vicious verbal exchanges prove, she's definitely her mother's daughter.Various sexual encounters and heated debates with classmates over terrorism become her outlet for frustration and expression, as she's plunged into a very real adult situation no girl her age could possibly be prepared for, even as all the real adults in her life constantly fail her. 

Lonergan (whose last film was 2000's You Can Count on Me) jams so much story in without it ever feeling that way, and in doing so really nails the experience of what it's like to be a hyper-sensitive, intellectual teen who thinks they've been through it all when they haven't even begun. Its title derives from Gerard Manley Hopkins' poem, "Spring and Fall," which is read during the film by Matthew Broderick, who plays Lisa's high school English teacher. The poem is about an adolescent girl named Margaret and how coming face-to-face with mortality changes her, but what unfolds over the course of this film is about that and a lot more, cutting to the core of our failure to meaningfully connect with others. That it's such a tough movie to describe and pin down is a testament to all the unconventional routes Lonergan takes to reach its goal.

Multiple storylines and sub-plots are juggled effortlessly, with everything always returning to Lisa and the accident's aftermath for all those involved, directly or not. But for Lisa, everything is always about her, and it's a credit to the writing and Paquin that we don't judge her for it and at times even empathize with her self-centeredness. She's in over her head and the more she does to make make things better, the deeper the hole she digs. Whether it's calling a bad boy classmate (Kieran Culkin) over to lose to her virginity, stringing along her would-be boyfriend (John Gallagher Jr.), hitting on her geometry teacher (Matt Damon), or meddling in the bus driver and victim's lives to absolve her conscience, Paquin makes it all seem somehow refreshingly human and relatable. She's not altogether a detestable character so much as a confused one, making it excusable for us to go from hating to loving Lisa (or vice versa) within the confines of a single scene.

No stranger to playing intellectually advanced and sexually curious New York high school students in the 25th Hour and The Squid and the Whale, this role feels like Paquin's ultimate payoff on those two characters had they been given their own showcases. What she did then and achieves again as Lisa is nail down a certain cadence and inflection of speech that you'd only find amongst the intellectual community in Manhattan. Words are a a weapon and the arts their primary means of expression (the film contains at least three scenes with either plays or operas). Had the movie been released when scheduled and with the proper marketing push back in '06 or '07, there's a decent chance Paquin could have won her second Oscar.

J. Cameron Smith is equally powerful and convincing as Lisa's mother, struggling with instability issues of her own and making it easy to see how the two can barely get through a conversation without it ending in a screaming match. Her own romance with sophisticated European, and borderline anti-Semite, Ramon (a superb Jean Reno) seems self-sabotaged from the get-go. The mother-daughter dynamic is just one example of Lonergan's pitch perfect writing, as the two central characters emotionally wound one another in ways each is too selfish to see. Lisa's relationship with her absent father,--played really well by Lonergan and seen only during long-distance phone calls-- is the worst kind of estranged parent. The type who continuously makes promises he has no intention of keeping. It's painful to watch and realize what Lisa doesn't: She's low on his list of priorities.

In pretty much only a single scene, Mark Ruffalo is frightening as the bus driver who encounters Lisa. You want to despise this man, until the actor playing him makes you realize that his biggest crimes (besides accidentally killing a woman) just might be desperation and stupidity. In an unforgettable supporting turn,  Jeannie Berlin comes out of semi-retirement to conquer the complex role of the Monica's tough best friend Emily and executor of her estate, sent into a tailspin when this teen shows up at her door pushing for a wrongful death suit and talking like she knew the victim. Berlin and Paquin have a scene together late in the film that's just brutal in its raw honesty, forcing the viewer to pick a side in the most awkward of situations where both are right. Or maybe wrong. But aside from philosophy, the film navigates tricky legal scenes with astonishing clarity so even someone completely unfamiliar with law could easily comprehend the complicated details of the case. Michael Ealy helps a great deal in that regard with his laid back performance as the lawyer who realizes he too might be in over his head, but offers up reasonable solutions nonetheless. 

Without even knowing beforehand, you'd still be able to tell just watching it that the film's been sitting on the shelf for six years. It really looks and feels like 2005, giving the entire picture the aura of a post 9/11 period piece, despite now arriving over 10 years after the tragedy. The wounds are fresher on screen, especially in the tumultuous, realistically written classroom scenes. Stranger still is seeing New Yorkers walk the streets without texting, a pre-True Blood, 23 year-old Paquin passing as a high school student and a much younger looking Matt Damon before he turned the corner as a major acting force. The germ of that transformation is evident, even if his storyline seems like the biggest casualty of the editing war that delayed the film. You can sense that certain scenes are cut-off or feel incomplete with a few jarring transitions, yet miraculously none of that hurts the narrative or lessen the story's overall impact. In many ways, it seems to strengthen it. There are also a few "blink and you'll miss them" cameos from actors who would go on to become bigger names, like Olivia Thirlby and Krysten Ritter. In fact, you could argue that most of the cast is more well known and successful now than when this started filming.

There's a line in the film where a character states that you're more likely to respond favorably to something you've already heard is good. That idea especially applies to the experience of watching this, and because of that, it'll likely take some time to fully estimate its value. For some reason critics also tend to respond more favorably to New York-set movies, possibly because they so often resemble the characters that populate those types of films. This time though, they're right. There's nothing quite like watching intellectuals tear each other apart so we have something to think and talk about for days and weeks after the credits roll.

As discouraging as the film's anonymity is, we should thank our lucky stars that an intelligent, gripping human drama about real people struggling with real problems came out at all, much less this well considering all its post-production nightmares. And thankfully now with more outlets to see lesser known independent titles than there were five or six years ago, it can possibly find an audience. When writing, directing and acting all come together in a way that has something important to say about life, that combination usually proves to be an unstoppable force. At two and a half hours, Margaret still feels like it has a lot more left to say, even if what's there is more than enough.   

The Kids Are All Right

Director: Lisa Cholodenko
Starring: Annette Bening, Julianne Moore, Mark Ruffalo, Mia Wasakowska, Josh Hutcherson
Running Time: 104 min.
Rating: R

★★ ½ (out of ★★★★)

Liberal Hollywood is at it again, this time taking the time out to kindly remind us that yes, same-sex marriage unions do exist and sometimes those involved in them even struggle with life problems every once in a while. But I doubt the problems they struggle with bare much resemblance to the sitcom-level farce that plays out in Lisa Cholodenko's The Kids Are All Right. Interestingly enough, the song "The Kids Are Alright" never once makes an appearance on the soundtrack which I guess isn't too surprising given the noticeable spelling change in the title to avoid a potential Pete Townshend lawsuit. That my thoughts frequently turned to music copyrighting issues while watching can't be a good sign (for me or the film), but sadly, it just might be the most interesting topic worth discussing. That title is unintentionally revealing as everything in the movie concerning the kids and their attempts to connect with their biological father is most definitely all right. It's the relationship between their cartoonish parents that's not. But don't feel too sorry for Annette Bening and Julianne Moore who, as talented as they are, sometimes seem entirely too comfortable lowering themselves with this material. It's easy to see why the film's been receiving a lot of praise but much of it has to do with its topic rather than what's actually on screen.

Jules (Moore) and Nic (Bening) are a lesbian couple living in California who may or may not be legally married (it's never made explicitly clear) and are raising their two teenage kids, Joni (Mia Wasikowska) and Laser (Josh Hutcherson). Each mother has given birth to one of the children by the same anonymous sperm donor, who Laser suddenly has the urge to track down and meet. Not yet 18, he has to rely on Jonie to make the call to this stranger who's their dad. The father turns out to be Paul (Mark Ruffalo), a likable, laid-back restaurateur who seems content in his freewheeling bachelor existence, having never known or cared to know about the responsibility that comes with being a parent. After an awkward first meeting over lunch he quickly bonds with the kids and becomes a part of their life, as well as the "moms," who have mixed feelings on Paul being suddenly inserted into the picture. Those mixed feelings become even more complicated when seemingly out of left field the friendship between he and Jules takes a romantic turn, threatening to rip this previously well-adjusted family apart.

I knew we were in for it when the film started with a scene of Jules and Nic in bed watching gay-male porn. Worse yet, it's followed up later with a scene of them explaining why to their kid and that human sexuality is a complicated thing blah blah blah. What are screenwriters thinking sometimes? If the film really wants to be about them being gay then by all means it should be, but if it doesn't, and wants to show how they're just like any normal couple with everyday problems, then do that. But you can't have it both ways by including a ludicrous scene meant to earn cheap laughs at the expense of their homosexuality. Maybe the scene's true to life. I have no idea. But that doesn't make it work any better within the context of the story being told on screen. That tonal clash runs throughout the picture so it's through little fault of Moore and Bening's that I never for a second believed they were a lesbian couple, especially when they're given such stereotypical characters to play. Nearly one word descriptions suffice. Jules is a new age hippie while Nic is a perfectionist control freak. The actresses do the best they can with the roles (Bening is a especially good in a memorable dinner table scene) but it's a lost cause when both are continually undermined by the sitcom machinations of what sometimes feels like a rejected Three's Company script.  The preposterous affair that occurs between Jules and Paul feels completely arbitrary and manufactured for drama, and even despite the performers' best efforts, it just isn't believable in the slightest.

The sub-plots involving the kids and their adolescent struggles are much more realistic and Wasikowska and Hutcherson are both fantastic at conveying the confusion of whether to let this guy in and trust him, as well as their own uncertainty of who they are. Wasikowska (the Alice in Alice in Wonderland) is especially effective and I'd rather nominate either of them for acting awards than Moore or Bening, who never have a chance to take off with these silly characters. Luckily, that's not necessary because we have Mark Ruffalo who nearly saves this film with his performance as a man tentatively embracing a massive change in his lifestyle. He goes from being kind of open to the idea, to going with it and then to just totally freaking out when he realizes what it would mean, and sells it all believably. He also creates the kind of personality for Paul where you'd understand why the kids would find him cool and the moms would have major problems with it. Everything involving him and the kids works on every level and he find a way to elevate every scene in, appearing to do so effortlessly. Because of him, HALF this film is a success.

If the writers removed the gimmick at its center the movie would be more likely to be seen for the middling effort it is, and while it would turn out no better or worse, at least it would be slightly less patronizing. When you put all the pieces together, it's just a near-miss in terms of actual quality and I'm not trying to dismiss Bening's strong performance, but this is just the latest example of a cinematic public service announcement being rolled out for awards attention. Whether it's war, rape, discrimination, teen pregnancy, or any other timely social issue, we see this happen every year, but that doesn't mean it has to be so transparent or it can't be done well. The big question to ask coming out of The Kids Are All Right is if you replaced the lesbian couple with a straight one whether it would make any difference at all, and if it did, whether anyone would still care.

Shutter Island

Director: Martin Scorsese
Starring: Leonardo DiCaprio, Ben Kingsley, Mark Ruffalo, Michelle Williams, Emily Mortimer, Max Von Syndow, Jackie Earle Haley, John Carroll Lynch, Elias Koteas, Patricia Clarkson
Running Time: 137 min.
Rating: R

MINOR SPOILERS FOLLOW.

★★★ (out of ★★★★)

If nothing else, Martin Scorsese's much anticipated and long delayed Shutter Island makes a great case for how important it is for a film to finish strong. Unfortunately, that finish was partially spoiled for me beforehand so there's little way of knowing my reaction had I been left completely in the dark. As far as big twists go, this one won't be accused of being terribly original but what's impressive about it is how Scorsese bothers to stick around and explore every facet of it after the reveal. You'd figure an approach like that would result in an anti-climactic fiasco not seen since the psychologist's silly speech at the end of Psycho, but instead, the explanations make the film look better in hindsight and imply that maybe there was more to the story than just a "gotcha" ending. The movie itself almost seems interested in how it arrived there, and as a result, so was I.

Of course, the running joke since the its release early this year was that Scorsese's "slumming it" with a cheesy thriller. He is, but faint praise as this may be, it's no worse than some of the lesser entries in his catalog like Bringing Out the Dead, The Aviator and Gangs of New York and it's definitely a lot more fun. And it's probably the only thing he's directed that's my kind of movie, as even his best films seem to invoke respectful admiration from me and nothing more. So as someone who doesn't hold his work on the gold pedestal everyone else does, my expectations were fully met, even if I'm unsure my reaction would be the same after another viewing.

At its center is an investigation taking place in 1954 that brings Federal marshal Teddy Daniels (Leonardo DiCaprio) and his new partner, Chuck Aule (Mark Ruffalo) to Ashcliffe Hospital, an asylum for the criminally insane located on the mysterious Shutter Island. They're looking into the disappearance of prisoner/patient Rachel Solando (Emily Mortimer), a woman institutionalized for drowning her three children, but instead Teddy suspects he's accidentally unearthed a massive conspiracy involving mind control orchestrated by the hospital's chief psychiatrist, Dr. Cawley (Ben Kingsley). As Teddy's tormented by hallucinatory flashbacks of his wife, Dolores (Michelle Williams) who died in a tragic fire a few years earlier, escaping the island with his mind intact soon takes precedence over cracking the Solando case. And it's a good thing it does because the investigation itself isn't interesting aside from the memorably bizarre supporting performances that include Max Von Syndow as a crazed evil doctor, John Carrol Lynch as the Deputy Warden, an unrecognizable Elias Koteas as the man Teddy believes killed his wife and could be locked up in the dangerous "Ward C," and Jackie Earle Haley, who's most impressive of all as the deranged patient harboring important information. Patricia Clarkson (whose pivotal role can't really be discussed) tears it up in a scene at the midway point that re-energizes the story, taking it in an entirely new direction. It's only when Teddy and Chuck attempt to escape the island that everything picks up and its non-stop tension until the finale.

At the risk of possibly giving away too much it is worth examining the nature of this big twist, which bares more than a passing similarity to the one that closed my favorite thriller, 1997's The Game, (fittingly that film's director, David Fincher, was originally attached to this project). It goes without saying this suffers in comparison, as anything would. With nearly identical motivations, this twist calls into question the nature of everything that came before and has you re-think the story's purpose, with the key difference being that The Game was grounded in reality. Whereas that film earned its final catharsis through a carefully constructed series of events, here we have certain things occurring only inside the protagonist's head, others really happening and it's difficult to draw the line between what's real and what isn't. So when the big reveal comes the only thing lacking is genuine emotion because we don't trust it. The script (based on Dennis Lehane's 2003 novel) isn't cheating, but it isn't exactly playing totally fair either. The strength it does share with that film is its willingness to stick around after the reveal to truly explore its ramifications, right up until literally the final line of dialogue.

The exciting and skillful last third of the picture is filled to the rim with disturbing images and it's mostly here where it becomes apparent Scorsese is the director, not some hack trying to make a schlocky potboiler (even if this does still kind of qualify as that). DiCaprio is solid, if unspectacular, until this portion of the film where he has to go all out emotionally and you gain a greater appreciation for what he was going for earlier in the procedural scenes. While I can't say I jumped with anticipation at the prospect of a fourth collaboration between Scorsese and DiCaprio, or they necessarily bring out the absolute best in one another each time out, their partnership is always creatively solid and interesting. No exception here. The dependable Ruffalo delivers as always while Kingsley admirably performs the difficult task of having to explain some pretty insane stuff late in the picture.

I've heard many say the film needs a few viewings to be fully absorbed and appreciated, but I'm conflicted whether it's even that deep. On one hand, I can easily see the film aging well with the twist holding the story up for further interpretation, but it's equally possible this could end up being the kind of routine thriller that exits your mind a week after you've seen it, never to be considered again. I'm still debating which. Anyone claiming Scorsese sold out by making a mainstream genre picture would be just as off base as loyalists claiming it's some kind of overlooked masterpiece because his name hovers above the credits. But when judged exactly for what it is, it's tough to argue that Shutter Island isn't skillfully made and a lot of fun.

Blindness

Director: Fernando Meirelles
Starring: Mark Ruffalo, Julianne Moore, Gael Garcia Bernal, Danny Glover, Alice Braga
Running Time: 120 min.
Rating: R

** (out of ****)

“I get it…they’re blind.” That's all I kept thinking while watching Blindness, a misguided effort in love with its own gimmicky premise. The film attempts to function as both thought provoking science fiction and deep social commentary but in the end it doesn’t tell us anything. It takes an ugly, cynical look at the times we live in, expecting us to believe that in the middle of a health crisis our government wouldn’t just turn our backs on us, but lock us in prisons, torture us and commit mass murder “Big Brother” style. Just the movie we need right now. All of that would actually be fine if it served some kind of purpose other than to facilitate a filmmakers’ desire to make a pretty looking movie complete with blinding white lights and gratuitous out of focus photography. It's one of the more annoying, unnecessary devices I’ve seen used in a movie this past year and something I’d expect to see from a mainstream hack filmmaker rather than the gifted director of City of God and The Constant Gardener.

The whole film does feel curiously mainstream and lazy with the only highlights being the performances of Ruffalo and Moore, as you probably guessed going in. They’re members of a select club of actors who are able to take pretty much any project they want and not have to worry about it sinking them and it’s easy to see why they were attracted to this material, which on paper probably looked like an intriguing meditation on human nature. What translates on screen instead is a poor man’s version of Children of Men, crossed with a Saw film. I was actually waiting for Jigsaw to show up announcing: “Let’s play a game…you’ve lost your sight…” The movie drags us through hell all for the sake of telling us that desperate situations bring out the worst in people. You don’t say?

It boasts a somewhat promising opening in which a man caught in a traffic jam (Yusuke Iseya) suddenly loses his sight and is driven home by a concerned stranger who reveals himself in little time to be a lowlife creep. Soon, he goes blind as do many more residents of this unnamed city and presumably more people across the nation. The sudden blindness, unlike the typically diagnosed kind, is strangely characterized not by an absence of color, but a blinding white light. Sensing an epidemic the government rounds up the infected, quarantining them in a dirty, run-down abandoned hospital. Among them is the optometrist (Ruffalo) who treated the first patient and his wife (Moore) who fakes being blind so she can stay with him. How she somehow remains uninfected is never addressed, nor are we given any explanation as to how or why everyone else is.

The other supporting characters are just stock characters put in place so writer Don McKellar can hammer us over the head with allegorical Lord of the Flies nonsense about how primal urges take over during traumatic ordeals of life and death. There’s a bitchy prostitute with sunglasses (pitifully played by Alice Braga), a old wise man with an eye patch (Danny Glover) and the “King of Ward 3” (Gael García Bernal) who takes over the hospital in an uprising. None of these characters have names, a detail reflective of the overriding pretentiousness of the story and also very fitting since it’s impossible to relate to any of them.

The film wrestles between wanting to be science fiction thriller and an artsy prestige project, almost teetering in a perpetual state of indecision. It seems to be striving for stark realism but at the same time features logic holes big enough to drive a truck through. The idea of blind people threatening other blind people WITH GUNS is too ridiculous to even address with a straight face and the one character with sight mopes around in a state of helplessness. You’d figure inserting a person who can see into this dire situation would be like sending Michael Jordan to the floor in a junior high school basketball game, but it isn’t until deep into the third act that Moore’s character actually decides to do something. Of course this is well after all the rape and murder she’s witnessed. The most pretentious scene in the film comes when out of nowhere (SPOILER ALERT!) Ruffalo’s character cheats on his wife just to make the ham-fisted point that in desperation we cling to any form of intimacy we can, whether we can see or not.

A few reviews I've read have compared the film to an episode of The Twilight Zone, except that series that didn’t just merely introduce themes and ideas, it explored them. It wouldn’t just tell us that in life and death situation survival instincts take over and we turn on each other. It would have asked why and given the characters a reason for doing it that said something about the world we live in. These movies should leave us thinking about what we'd do and enable us to put ourselves int he characters shoes. Last year’s The Mist already proved that can be done very well.

The plot here really doesn’t differ all that much from a direct-to-DVD horror movie in its execution, though its lofty intentions are far worse. It actually thinks it’s saying something important and delivering a spiritual parable. Instead, it’s just going through the motions of a plot we’ve seen a million times before, but using fancy lighting. The decision to visually depict the blindness as if that will get us to identify with the victims’ plight is not only laughable but distracting, making it difficult to see what’s happening and creating more of a distance between the viewer and the story. Maybe Meirelles realized that watching blind people stumble around isn’t an ideal way to spend two hours so instead resorted to visual flourishes to spice things up. This truly is a gimmick and nothing more, without once making an intelligent attempt to build on its promising premise.

Insultingly, the film condescends further by attempting to work an ending message of hope into its ugly worldview. Ruffalo’s character is simply referred to as “Doctor” in the credits while Moore is the “Doctor’s Wife.” Their scenes together and the idea that he must lean on his wife to survive are the most interesting, yet despite the noblest efforts of both actors, one and two word labels would still sum up their characters. Moore is an actress I’d usually want to see in anything, very often fluctuating between more mainstream projects and artier fare, but the big problem here is Meirelles doesn’t have a clue which he wants this be so this time she stars in two flops for the price of one.

There must have been something somewhere in Jose Saramago’s acclaimed novel if it attracted this kind of talent but Meirelles clearly wasn’t the director equipped to deal with it. Its nearest relative is obviously 2006’s Children of Men and while that film was overpraised I’ll at least admit it took its ideas seriously and form followed function. But how many more stories about run-down, decimated futures run by evil governments can we watch without anything new being said? Blindness is a film that wants to be full of ideas, but instead ends up just being full of itself.

'07 Leftovers: Reservation Road

Director: Terry George
Starring: Joaquin, Jennifer Connelly, Mark Ruffalo, Mira Sorvino, Elle Fanning, Sean Curley, Eddie Alderson
Running Time: 109 min.
Rating: R

*** (out of ****)

It happens every year. A film released during awards season with “OSCAR” written all over it lands in theaters with a commercial and critical thud, disappointing everyone. On paper, there were few bets better in 2007 than Reservation Road. It was helmed by the Oscar nominated writer/director of Hotel Rwanda, starred two Academy Award winning actresses and even an Oscar nominated actor. Yet, you’d be hard-pressed to find a single review of the film ranking it above the two and a half star level and it was snubbed by every major critics group.

It’s almost impossible for me to believe, despite the critical thrashing it took, that I somehow missed a film that falls into my absolute favorite film genre: Suburban American Nightmare. My love for this genre is so strong that two films from it were represented on my recent list of top ten list of favorite all-time films. I also thought Todd Field’s 2006’s masterpiece Little Children deserves to rank among the very best covering that territory and one of the finest films of this decade. Being that both films share one of my favorite actresses, there was even more reason to see this.

The list of great achievements in this genre are staggering; Ordinary People, The Swimmer, The Ice Storm, American Beauty, In The Bedroom, House of Sand and Fog. Some are better than others, a few even masterpieces, but they’re all worthy entries that say something important about how we live. We all gravitate to a certain type of film but I keep coming back to ones like these. They hit closest to home in the most literal sense for me. They explore real people struggling with real problems that, if executed under the best circumstances creatively, can give us insight into our own challenges.
Reservation Road is not up to the level of those aforementioned titles and I could see where some would find it a disappointment given the talent involved. There’s no question it could have been better and I’d probably believe anyone who tells me the critically acclaimed bestseller by John Burnham Schwartz (who also co-wrote this screenplay) is far superior. The film succeeds in realistically depicting the intimate details of a tragedy but is burdened with a problem, and it’s a fairly big one many won’t be able to get past.

The story rests on a giant coincidence the commercials and trailers for the film have gleefully bragged about. I know my limits and won’t attempt to defend it. It’s just bad screenwriting. If this script were written on spec, or probably by anyone other than an Oscar nominated screenwriter, it would be tossed in the trash and this project would have never gotten the green light. But I’m forgiving it because director/co-writer Terry George proceeds with it honestly, like he doesn’t have a care in the world how stupid it is. It’s dumb, but at least he knows not to take it TOO FAR.

As much as I'm reluctant to admit it, this coincidence makes for great drama and tension, and the film wouldn’t have been nearly as suspenseful without it. And two actors (in performances that ARE Oscar worthy) find emotional truth in the story even when at times George’s script can’t, while another actor turns what could have been a silly cliché into a real person. Saying that something isn’t nearly as bad as everyone else did isn’t exactly the most glowing endorsement, but I’m convinced a terrible film could be released in this genre and I’d still probably like it.

To its credit, Reservation Road wastes no time getting right down to business, opening with a horrifyingly realistic tragedy within its first few minutes. What works about this depiction is how the film doesn’t so much show us or tell us about the death 10-year-old Josh Learner (Sean Curley), but lets us instead feel it through through his parents, college professor Ethan (a scruffy, bearded Joaquin Phoenix) and his wife, Grace (Jennifer Connelly). We never actually hear the words “he’s dead” but we just know it because they know it. Under normal circumstances, an opening like this would just be an excuse for actors to indulge in over-the-top Oscar-baiting hysterics but Phoenix and Connelly are so restrained its scary. It would be irresponsible, not to mention insensitive, to say they act exactly like parents who lost their child (since everyone would react differently), but their believability is off the charts. They put on an acting clinic and what they do in the first twenty minutes help carry this entire story through, even when script problems intrude.

When Josh is tragically killed by a hit and run driver in front of a gas station and both parents, especially Grace, feel the burden of responsibility and guilt. The perpetrator is Dwight Arnow (Mark Ruffalo), a divorced attorney taking his son Lucas (Eddie Alderson) home to ex-wife Ruth (Mira Sorvino in a nothing role) after a Red Sox game when he makes the mistake of his life. Rather than stay and take responsibility for what he’s done, Dwight, in a state of panic, flees the scene and this begins a cat-and-mouse game of sorts.

What the film, and Ruffalo’s performance, captures so well about Dwight is that he isn’t an evil person, just a moron who’s screwed up one thing after another in his life, with this just being the latest and biggest. His ex-wife and her new husband justifiably can’t stand him and the only person able to look past his flaws is his own son, who he’s in danger of losing due to his own reckless stupidity.

As played by Ruffalo, it seems Dwight really wants to do the right thing, and many times he comes close to, but his cowardice simply prevents it. Being that Dwight is a lawyer and Ethan is obsessed with bringing to justice the man who ran down his son when the police fail him, the script sets up a very convenient coincidence. You can take a wild guess which lawyer Ethan happens to retain to help him out. If that wasn’t enough, George and Schwartz’s script add another coincidence on top of that involving the wives. If you want to talk hypothetically, I suppose in a town small enough these coincidences could occur, but then if it is wouldn’t it stand to reason Ethan would figure out fairly quickly who was responsible for the crime? Of course now I’m probably analyzing this more deeply than it deserves.
There are plot holes in this big enough to drive a tractor-trailer through but luckily George doesn’t draw attention to them and shows restraint instead, focusing mainly on the human aspect of the story. While Ethan becomes obsessed with finding his son’s killer it’s realistically grounded and he doesn’t come off as a crazed vigilante like Kevin Bacon’s character in Death Sentence.

The rift between Ethan and Grace over their son’s death feels real rather than manufactured and she doesn’t come off as an uncaring nag, but a concerned mother worried her husband is no longer capable of taking care of the child they have left (well played by Elle Fanning). Ethan and Dwight don’t become best buddies (which I expected they would) because Dwight’s constant anguish and guilt over the crime prevents it. George milks this situation for everything its worth as the two men dance around each other and await the moment Ethan will finally put the pieces together. The set-up may be dumb and recall a Lifetime Movie of The Week melodrama but there’s legitimate tension here that builds to an intelligent and exciting climax.

The material notwithstanding, this represents Joaquin Phoenix’s best acting work and it’s at least on par with his performance in Walk The Line. What amazed me was how controlled he remained in even the film’s more ludicrous moments, of which there are plenty. There were so many opportunities for him to fly off the rails but he never did, instead letting Ethan’s pain and anguish simmer.

With the similarly themed House of Sand and Fog and Little Children under her belt, Jennifer Connelly could be considered the reigning queen of the suburban nightmare film. The latter one had so many interesting things going on that at times she almost risked fading into the background. This part is much larger, almost polar opposite and requires her to do much more heavy lifting emotionally. As usual, she delivers and both her and Phoenix’s roles could have been so mishandled if played by other less talented performers. Ruffalo is just as strong and has the most challenging role of the three since he’s asked to do some admittedly silly things to service the film’s plot. Sorvino is completely wasted and given nothing to do, which is a shame, but hurts it her more than the picture.

This film may have fallen short in its quest to impress Oscar voters but the three main performances in it did warrant serious consideration. But 2007 was an unusually strong year for dark dramas so this would have probably been lost in the shuffle regardless of its problems. It was just a crowded field anyway. It’s almost unfair these actors had to work this hard to overcome the screenplay’s deficiencies but I’m glad they did. It’s a reminder of just how good they are and the reason this is worth watching. Reservation Road didn’t stand a chance during awards season but it sure is much better than it got credit for.