After the Wedding

Danish director Susanne Bier had stylistic roots in the Dogme 95 movement, and still relies on a handheld camera, fractured editing, and super-close-ups of eyes or lips, but she’s definitely a distinctive filmmaker in her own right. This story is soap-opera-like but surprising, melodramatic but funny at times, with several twists that I won’t divulge. All the actors are good if unfamiliar, the one recognizable face being Mads Mikkelson, who was the villain in Casino Royale, and is here an expat who helps run an orphanage in Bombay. He is reluctantly called back to Denmark by a prospective donor, who then invites him to his daughter’s wedding, which sets off a string of revelations from a group of believably complicated characters, none of whom is quite what they seem at first glance. So even while plot-driven, the film is realistically ambiguous about motivation and emotion, and layered in its depiction of place and people. (2007, dvd, n.) *7* (MC-78.)

Amazing Grace

Whether or not this is “a Sunday-school version of one of history’s great social movements,” financed by a shadowy benefactor of the Religious Right, as alleged by the New York Review of Books, it’s still a pretty good movie with its heart in the right place, leagues better than something like Amistad in showing the struggle to overturn slavery. Michael Apted is a serious and accomplished director of features and documentaries, and if you’re going to make a hero out of your period protagonist, you could hardly do better than Horatio Hornblower himself, the Welsh dreamboat Ioan Gruffudd. He plays William Wilberforce, the persistent parliamentary agitator against slavery from the 1790s right up to its final abolition in Britain at the time of his death in 1833, and he is definitely appealing in his righteousness, evangelical activist though he may be and however much his other reactionary views may have been elided. The period is well evoked, and the periwigs are well inhabited by the likes of Michael Gambon, Ciaran Hinds, Toby Jones, and Albert Finney. Youthful BBC veteran Romola Garai is the saucy but committed love interest, and new face Benedict Cumberbatch is convincing as William Pitt, Wilberforce’s Cambridge classmate and longtime ally, who at 24 became the youngest Prime Minister ever (and namesake of Pittsfield, of interest to those of us here in the Berkshires.) Though I am not devoted to strict chronology in film, this was the third film I’d seen in a week that would have made more sense told straight through instead of in flashback and flashforward, a needless complication to an already complicated story. Though the NYRB had a number of historical quibbles, I was struck by how each point was addressed if not elaborated by the film itself. So even if Wilberforce is advanced as the hero of this story, other contributions are noted. As is the contemporary relevance of slavery as a continuing issue, and the surprising transcendence of economic self-interest. Given slavery’s contribution to the British economy, it’s almost as if contemporary Americans should find the moral fiber to ban the import of oil. It’s possible the money behind the film wanted to push the parallel between abolition and anti-abortion crusades, but the movie as it stands offers a wealth of differing implications. (2007, dvd, n.) *7* (MC-65.)

Random viewing

Just a few brief notes to register several films I don’t intend to review in any detail.

Time to Leave (2005) is a so-so Francois Ozon film about a young fashion photographer who finds out he only has months to live -- it wasn’t a chore to watch but said nothing about the issues which led me to watch it (cf. Simon and The Sea Inside.) *6* (MC-67)

Narrow Margin (1952) is an effective low-budget noir from Richard Fleischer, about a cop trying to get a gangster’s widow from Chicago to a grand jury in L.A. on the Golden West Express. The dialogue is tasty and oh-so-hardboiled, the actors and actresses are A-1 B-movie characters, the twists keep coming through the swift running time, and the most is made of the least in the confined setting of a train. *7*

Flower of Evil (2002) is routine Claude Chabrol, in its depiction of the secret perversions of the bourgeoisie, but a pleasure to watch for the settings and three generations of very attractive women, Suzanne Flon as the grandmother, Nathalie Baye as the mother, and Melanie Doutey as the daughter. *6+*

La Vie en Rose (2007) takes an insanely discontinuous approach to the life of Edith Piaf, but has much of interest in it, primarily the performance of Marion Cotillard as “The Little Sparrow,” the Judy Garland-ish singer who was literally the voice of France in her era, and beyond. Also of interest were the original voice recordings, though they are maddeningly not subtitled on the dvd (apparently were in theatrical release.) Compared to Ray or Walk the Line, this shows that the musical biopic is one genre in which the Americans are way ahead of the French. *6+* (MC-66.)

The Long Good Friday (1979) is a generally overpraised film about a modern London gangster, played by Bob Hoskins in his breakthrough role, which I watched in my intermittent retrospective of Helen Mirren, who plays his classy wife. Updating the gangland genre to the era of globalizing business, John Mackenzie follows Hoskins on his yacht cruising the Thames, where he woos partners and investors to a plan for developing the Docklands (and building a stadium to host the ’88 Olympics.) Though he has avoided making enemies, suddenly someone starts blowing up his businesses and henchmen, and he must ruthlessly track down his nemesis, who turns out to be an unexpected group that gives the film even more topicality. Not my favorite sort of film, this has merit but does not transcend its genre. *6+*

Despite the critical raves and my own interest in monasticism, I couldn’t get with the program of Into Great Silence (2007), Philip Groening’s documentary about a year in the life of a Carthusian monastery in the French Alps. Intermittently lovely, the film was also interminable. It had to be quiet, slow, and repetitious to be true to its subject, but my feeling was enough is enough, too much of too little. Some critics saw the film as an antidote to the time and attention deficits of modern life, but that strikes me as a twisted form of sentimentality, as if boredom were a righteous discpline. To my mind, discipline was just what the film lacked. I could recommend it only if it lost a third of its 160 minutes. (MC-78) *6*

No End in Sight

Living up to its acclaim as the best documentary yet on the war in Iraq, Charles Ferguson’s film is non-inflammatory but all the more infuriating for its restraint. Though the viewpoint is clear enough, there are no partisan rants, but just the Bush administration condemned (most particularly, Rumsfeld and Bremer) out of the mouths of its own officials, as well as eyewitnesses on the ground, their testimony unclouded by the inky exudations of disinformation expelled by the Bushies. Few of the interviewees were against the war going in, and there may be some blame-evasion in their speaking for the record (vide Jay Garner, supplanted by Bremer and the CPA, and Richard Armitage, whose boss Colin Powell was bested by Rumsfeld in bureaucratic infighting), but enough credible witnesses tell interlocking stories, so a clear picture emerges of how Iraq became MessO’Potamia. In specific, the film argues convincingly that the disbandment of the Iraqi army was the single greatest mistake made. Overall, what comes through is the toxic blend of ignorance and arrogance that is the Bush trademark, and the legacy of the mess he has made. First-time director Ferguson is really the anti-Michael Moore, a scholar rather than a showman, and makes his argument convincingly, without shouting or grandstanding. The dvd includes lots of extended interviews that are just as worth watching as the film itself. (2007, dvd, n.) *8+* (MC-89.)

Into the Wild

Sean, old buddy, you were close to having a really good film. Here’s what I suggest to improve it by paring away excess: drop the arty and empty narration, tell the story straight through without the cumbersome flashback-flashforward structure, and cut out half the camera tricks. Show a little of your subject’s asceticism by showing some restraint yourself -- you can show off a little bit but not too much. Loved the super-slo-mos of tossed mortarboards and the spray of an improvised shower in the wilderness, for example, also the handwritten superscript, but hated the unmotivated direct address to camera and the steady stream of visual gimmicks. On top of all that rapturous landscape photography, it’s just too much, and leaves your main character opaque throughout, despite the appeal of Emile Hirsch in the role. Werner gets much deeper into his Grizzly Man than you get into yours, though you would have brought a lot to the role yourself as a young man. I can’t speak to how you’ve changed the character from Jon Krakauer’s nonfiction bestseller, about a new college graduate fleeing civilization and his old life by getting as deep into the wild as he could, all by himself. What you have done is mix diverse landscapes and characters within them, all well-embodied by the likes of Vince Vaughn, Catherine Keener, and Hal Holbrook, into a highly watchable road trip. But Mr. Penn, you might have had a worthy film in the great American tradition of Thoreau et al. You should learn their lesson -- to simplify, simplify. (2007, Images, n.) *6+* (MC-73.)

Spanglish

If you, like me, let bad reviews put you off this effort from reliable veteran James L. Brooks, then take my advice and pay them no mind. The critical response was an interesting phenomenon -- normally intelligent commentators became a pack of baying hounds, deploring the film as “smug ... despicable ... deeply unpleasant.” Anger was rife; one guy even claimed that it showed why the Democrats lost that year’s election (it was one thing for Bush to sieze power, but appalling and infuriating for him actually to win the popular vote after revealing who he truly was.) Sheesh -- maybe the film can be looked at a little more calmly now. It was an admiring reference in Kent Jones’ new collection of film criticism, Physical Evidence, that led me to give the film a chance, and I definitely was won over. Tea Leoni’s portrayal of a Type-A, Bel Air/Malibu, wife and mother was the crux of ire, or rather Brooks’ depiction of her, because no one could argue she didn’t make the role vivid and funny as well as horrifying, only whether her behavior was repellent enough to make her a scapegoat without redeeming qualities. I thought she and the film did a good job of showing that there was a decent person stuggling to emerge from the taut, manic, high-achieving persona. And I thought the film made plausible the unlikely relationship between her and her laid-back husband, Adam Sandler, a seeming doofus who was nonetheless a four-star chef. Into the volatile mix comes the va-va-voom Mexican maid embodied warmly and wisely by Paz Vega. And then there are the adolescent daughters of the antithetical women, played superbly by Sarah Steele and Shelbie Bruce. Cloris Leachman is also excellent as the boozy but experienced live-in mother-in-law. I found the film humorous and poignant, and not at all sit-commy. If you liked Brooks’ work from "Mary Tyler Moore" though Terms of Endearment, Broadcast News, and As Good As It Gets, be assured that this in not the trainwreck that has been reported. And the dvd has an exemplary extra in deleted scenes with commentary, which certainly makes the filmmakers seem more honorable in their intentions than most critics gave them credit for. (2004, dvd, n.) *8* (MC-48.)

The Deal

If you liked The Queen, and have some interest in British politics, then this earlier effort by the same team -- director Stephen Frears, writer Peter Morgan, actor Michael Sheen as Tony Blair -- is well worth seeing, intelligent and plausible. The “deal” is between Blair and Gordon Brown, between the Clintonesque smoothie who would bring Labor back into power and the dour Scot who was the brains and force behind the party’s revival. Tony was supposed to get two terms, and then it would be Gordon’s turn. The two friends, who had shared a tiny office as newly-elected backbenchers in opposition, would get to share power and lead Britain up from Thatcherism. As appealing as Blair can be, his painful wrongness on Iraq was also the excuse to keep Brown waiting for extra years, so just as with Bill & Hill, the well-intentioned pursuit and exercise of power was sometimes a matter of self-indulgence and betrayal. Is it possible to be a good person and an effective politician at the same time? This film will make it more interesting to watch from a distance what sort of PM Gordon Brown turns out to be. (2003, HBO/T, n.) *7-*

Hannah and Her Sisters

Despite the all-star cast, the true star of this film is -- as in so many Woody Allen films -- Manhattan itself, in a sequence of evocative locations that survey the particular charms of the Big Apple and the theatrical village within, where all the characters reside -- with parks and galleries, bookstores and restaurants, opera and jazz, show tunes and show people, all vying for attention and appreciation. This then is another sort of home movie, with Michael Caine as Woody’s stand-in as Mia Farrow’s husband, unable to resist the charms of her sister, Barbara Hershey (keeping it in the family, so to speak). Woody himself plays the ex-husband who winds up with Mia/Hannah’s other sister, Diane Wiest. Nearly every face that appears on screen is familiar now, even if they weren’t then (like John Turturro and Julia Louis Dreyfus in bit parts), while others are memorably gone (like Max von Sydow and Mia’s mom, Maureen O’Sullivan.) The locales are similarly familiar, and offer a time capsule of New York two decades ago. So there are manifold pleasures in the film, a reminder of Woody Allen at his peak, if not a timeless classic. (1986, TCM/T, r.) *7*

Knocked Up

I suppose you could call this “Seduced and Not Abandoned.” This film has been overpraised enough to set off a backlash, but it is always fun to revisit the heartfelt, raunchy, dope-fueled comedy of Judd Apatow, Seth Rogen, and the gang from “Freaks & Geeks,” “Undeclared,” and 40-Year-Old Virgin. I enjoyed its two-hours-plus running time and extensive dvd extras, but in the end not quite up to its predecessors. Katherine Heigl is attractive and effective as the successful hottie who unaccountably has a one night stand with semi-loveable loser Seth, and when she gets pregnant makes allowances for the lunk’s desire to do the right thing and grow from manchild to caring dad, raggedy teddybear that he is. But Judd’s wife, Leslie Mann, is a revelation as the tightly-wound sister, and their two kids are delightful as well, along with Paul Rudd as their screen dad. The goofball Greek chorus of oversexed slackers with whom Seth shares a pad are all accomplished Apatow regulars. So it’s very much a family movie, despite the raucous raunch. I’m not sure where it takes you, but it’s a fun ride, like the roller coasters that figure in the story. (2007, dvd, n.) *7+* (MC-85.)

Seduced and Abandoned

Not quite up to its predecessor, Divorce Italian Style (because it does not have the gift of Marcello Mastrioanni), this Pietro Germi film again uses the stunningly lovely Stefania Sandrelli as the lust object who reveals the absurdities of Sicilian manhood and society. Saro Urzi is the laughable patriarch driven to insanity and beyond by the imperative to protect his daughters’ virtue and his family’s honor. The comedy, however, is dark as the garb the women must wear, black as a nun’s habit but oh-so-shapely underneath. A dimwitted snake seduces the younger sister of his fiance, and then refuses the shotgun marriage because he wants to marry a virgin. All the men, from priest to fathers, agree that it’s the man’s right to ask and the woman’s duty to refuse, and that family honor is the paramount concern. It would all be simply hilarious, if it weren’t so pointed about the pathetic sexism of my paternal forebears. (1964, dvd, n.) *7*

This Sporting Life

A young Richard Harris is startlingly Brando-esque -- Stanley Kowalski with a Yorkshire accent -- in Lindsay Anderson’s film about a professional rugby player, and the widowed landlady he brutishly woos, played by Rachel Roberts. Whether referred to as Free Cinema or British New Wave or Cockney Neorealism, the English films of that era were significant to me at the time, and certainly set the stage for some of my favorites to come, like Mike Leigh and Ken Loach, but on re-viewing they tend to seem excessively gray and overwrought. This one in particular is freighted with a fractured time scheme that is hard to follow, set out in flashback as the protagonist is undergoing anasthesia while getting stumps of broken teeth removed after a face-bashing on the field. Its raw power and unflinching gaze are notable, but no longer the shock to the system they once were. (1963, TCM/T, r.) *6+*

Runnin’ Down a Dream: Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers

I don’t really pay any attention to new music, but as a recent convert to the cult of Leonard Cohen, I am now alive to the discovery of old music that I have missed. Thus I was primed for Peter Bogdanovich’s 4-hour documentary on the career of Tom Petty, and indeed I responded as warmly as I did to Scorsese on Dylan, or Demme on Young. Just as my favorite art exhibitions are career retrospectives, which allow one to follow the serial obsessions that inform a life and a body of work, so I am swayed by the story of an artist and a band who have worked continuously and evolved over more than three decades. Any documentary in which you can watch people age before your eyes has a built-in interest, and when the case is effectively made for the importance of the work they’ve done, then you really have something. Even at the length, I could have done with more concert footage, though vintage film and tv are combined nicely with a 2006 concert back in Gainesville FL, where the band came from. Tom Petty emerges as a figure of continuing interest, and the Heartbreakers become vivid both individually and collectively. At the end of the film, like the lab rat I am, I went straight online and ordered a two-disc Anthology of their career, and I suspect I will immerse myself in it as I did with the Essential Leonard Cohen -- the lyrics may not be quite so poetic but are suggestive of an engaging personality, and I’m as ready to rock out as most aging baby boomers. (2007, Sund/T, n.) *7+*

My Best Friend

This is one of those French comedies that will inevitably be remade in Hollywood, and with all Gallic suavity removed will be revealed as empty-headed. Director Patrice Leconte leavens the frivolity with his usual seriousness, as does French star Daniel Auteuil, but the film is unabashedly implausible right through to its game show climax. Auteuil is passionate about his art collecting, but disconnected from people. When his lovely partner tells him he has no friends, they wind up making a bet over whether he has an actual best friend. You know how it goes -- all the “friends” he approaches can’t really stand him, so he meets an unlikely, likable acquaintance whom he tries to pass off as his best friend. This cabbie is appeallingly played by Dany Boon, previously unknown to me, but despite some manufactured shocks, the story doesn’t go anywhere you don’t expect and doesn’t unearth any hidden truths, satisfied to be a pleasant fantasy with a simpleminded message. The cultural milieu, however, is well depicted, and the sentiment is not too sickeningly sweet. (2007, dvd, n.) *6+* (MC-65.)

Crazy Love

I suspect one’s ability to enjoy Dan Klores’ documentary about a decades-long (dys)functional relationship between two unusual people depends on how kneejerk one’s reaction is to physical abuse of women by lying men. If you revile the characters, it can be hard to see how well-made this film is. This couple managed to be the subject of tabloid scandal in the ’50s, the ’70s, and the ’90s, and the film dredges through the archives to present a visual and musical evocation of various eras. It’s just as well if you don’t know the backstory going in, because then the film can unfold with surprise after surprise. So if you’re capable of suspending judgment, as this film does, then you will likely enjoy the psychological and sociological probing this story offers, along with wit and visual interest. (2007, dvd, n.) *7+* (MC-69.)

Distant (Uzak)

Nuri Bilge Ceylan is walking in the footsteps of Tarkovsky and Kiarostami as the darling of international festivals for his excruciatingly-slow, emotionally-deadpan, anti-action films. But as with them, patience rewards. This Turkish film inventories all the forms of distance between people in proximity. An Istanbul photographer allows a country cousin to camp out in his apartment while looking for work, where they rub up against each other in ways that with subtle humor reveal their personalities, in long, static, but exquisitely composed takes. The photographer is disengaged and disenchanted, most especially in his relations with women. The younger cousin walks around in the snow and fog, looking for women as much as for work. They both fail to connect. Though there are moments of strange beauty, this is a bleak landscape indeed, like so many mega-cities around the world where people torn from their communal roots congregate in economic despair and personal isolation. (2004, dvd, n.) *7* (MC-84.)

The Journey

In a newspaper column, I was running down a pretty fair list of recommended recent documentaries, when this title I’d never heard of was cited as the writer’s favorite, so it went straight to the top of my Netflix queue. Well, you know, I wound up liking it a lot, though I found myself wondering whether it was all a crock. Eric Saperston was just out of college when he came up with this scheme to go cross-country in a VW bus, along the way beating down doors to get interviews with successful older people, to ask their advice for younger people just starting out. He roped some friends into taking the journey with him and acting as crew. It might be taken as a huge vanity project, and yet there is an appealing nebbishy quality to our Eric’s efforts and travails. And even where the material is thin (the biggest “get” is Ann Richards, governor of Texas before she lost re-election to a certain unmentionable person), the various strands are layered together in a way that gives it substance as well as humor. (2001, dvd, n.) *7*