Let’s start with best of
these matched pairs. Force Majeure (MC-87, NFX) was a critical favorite and has much
to recommend it, but for me suffers by comparison to a film on the same theme,
about a moment of masculine weakness that undermines the trust between a
couple. In this film Ruben Őstland piles
on themes as he follows a picture-perfect Swedish family to a posh ski resort
in the French Alps, whereas The Loneliest Planet pares the issue to
its essence, as a couple hikes in the Caucasus, with only a Georgian guide as witness
to their split. From the title --
enigmatic if you don’t know the legal term, but excessively overt if you do (an
act of God or nature that dissolves a contract) – to the admittedly spectacular
SFX of an avalanche, amidst so many clashes of gender, class, setting, and
character, Force Majeure lays it on too thick, tends to be too much of a
good thing. Still, it’s great to look
at, and worth thinking about afterwards, even if its effect was mixed for me.
Dear White
People (MC-79, NFX) was a
pleasant surprise. For a paired film I’d
point to School Daze, even though DWP writer-director Justin
Simien refers to his heroine as more a fan of Ingmar Bergman than Spike Lee. While Lee deals with cross-currents of color
at a historically black college, Simien tackles the same in a historically
black dorm at a fictional Ivy League college.
His writing is sharp, and while his first-time direction sometimes
overreaches, a solid cast delivers both laughs and ponderable moments. This is a race movie in the best possible
sense.
Two credit lines tell you
all you need to know about Get on Up (MC-71, NFX). First is Chadwick Boseman’s performance as
James Brown in this biopic, which seems even more amazing next to his portrayal
of Jackie Robinson in 42. Second
is director Tate Taylor, which explains the distaste I had for the style of the
film all the way through, since his previous work includes The Help – I don’t even know whether he’s black or white, but he definitely has
a Hollywoodized perspective on black culture.
(White, I find out, no surprise there – clearly a Spielberg
wannabe.)
Actually, there’s a third
credit line that’s explanatory, producer Mick Jagger. But much better to watch the other James
Brown film he got credit on last year, Alex Gibney’s documentary, Mr. Dynamite: The Rise of
James Brown (MC-79,
HBO). The fictionalized version is not
just inauthentic, but positively annoying in its try-anything approach, darting
around in time, and breaking frame with direct to the camera dialogue. Every time the music stopped, it made me
wince. Still, either doc or biopic will
remind you of the power of Mr. Brown’s influential holy-roller-meets-R&B
style of performance.
It’s been a long time
since France was at the forefront of world cinema -- the New
Wave is old news, its practitioners all but died out -- but the French
“tradition of quality” sometimes reasserts itself. Here are two films I happened upon through
Netflix streaming, which you might find watchable as well.
I took an interest in The French Minister (MC-65, NFX) because of director Bertrand
Tavernier, but was surprised to find it a rare comedy by him, rather
reminiscent of the British film In
the Loop and tv series The Thick of It (precursor to HBO’s Veep). Apparently it’s adapted from a best-selling
graphic novel by an ex-diplomat, based on his experiences in the French foreign
ministry in the run-up to the Iraq War.
This is political buffoonery with a Gallic accent, but will be all too
familiar in the vacuity of the movers and shakers, told from the perspective of
a young speechwriter to the windy aristocrat who rules the Quai d’Orsay with imperious imbecility.
From a few years ago, The Well-Digger’s Daughter (MC-67, NFX) is a Marcel Pagnol re-make by Daniel
Auteuil, placid and predictable, but nonetheless pleasurable,. If you have radiant memories of Provence peasantry and landscape from Jean de Florette and Manon
of the Spring, or from My Father’s Glory and My
Mother’s Castle, then you might
find yourself, as I did, drawn into this hackneyed tale of a lower class girl
who gets in trouble with a bourgeois fly-boy at the start of WWII. The girl is a pleasure to look at, if not a
particularly revealing actress, and Auteuil allows himself to
chew the scenery as the crusty old dad.
Something about the light on the landscape, however, made the film
irresistible to me.
The same might be said of
The Two Faces
of January (MC-66, NFX),
where the Mediterranean light falls on Athens and Crete . Hossein
Amini’s adaptation of a Patricia Highsmith novel goes for the Hitchcockian
period vibe, and has some success, though the story hardly convinces, fudging
key moments. Viggo Mortensen, Oscar
Isaac, and Kirsten Dunst all offer magnetic performances, as a steamy triangle
entangled in embezzlements and suspicious deaths. Along with the travelogue pleasures of the
cinematography, that’s enough to make this worth a try on Netflix streaming.
Gone Girl (MC-79, NFX) was a would-be thriller that attracted
a lot more notice, but I confess my surprise that David Fincher could make a film
so ridiculous, sleek as you’d expect but far removed from anything like real
life. The film certainly served as an
admirable platform for Rosamund Pike in the title role (Ben Affleck is no more
than okay as her beleaguered husband), but Gillian Flynn’s screenplay shows all
the problems of a novelist adapting her own work. What words can get away with, pictures make
preposterous, plus there’s the excessive reliance on voiceover narration. I’d somehow avoided all spoilers about this
pop culture phenomenon, aside from the central twist, so I approached it with
an open mind, which gradually closed into incredulity and derision. Which is not to say there was no fun
involved, but it was definitely splashing around in the shallow end. I put this in a category with films like Vertigo and Mulholland
Drive – I can’t really see
what some people see in them.
We conclude with dueling doppelgangers, a hardy perennial theme of literature and film. I enjoyed The Double (MC-69, NFX) but found it a chore to watch Enemy (MC-61,
NFX). The Double is adapted from
Dostoevsky, directed by Richard Ayoade, and stars Jesse Eisenberg in the dual
role. Enemy is adapted from Saramago,
directed by Denis Villeneuve, and stars Jake Gyllenhaal in the dual role. Both films share a sickly yellow-green
palette, but The
Double creates an alternate 1984-ish
world of drab conformity and amusingly primitive technology, while Enemy tries
to make modern Toronto and its suburban high-rises look as unappetizing
as possible. The Double is darkly funny,
while Enemy is lugubrious and enigmatic in the extreme. The ending of The Double fails to convince,
or resolve the situation it has artfully set up, but the ending of Enemy is
deliberately whacked out, and far from satisfying to me. The supporting cast of The Double includes Mia Wasikowski as love interest, and Wallace Shawn as the boss
of both Eisenbergs, the recessive nerd and the genial con man, along with a
host of humorous cameos. Enemy has
Melanie Laurant and Sarah Gadon as the interchangeable women of Gyllenhaal, but
gives them far too little to do.
Having gone from pairings
to parings, it’s time to move on to a whole new batch of new &
noteworthies.
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