Movie List 2012: 11.) The Hunger Games

[Note:  yeah, I’m back.  I apologize for taking so long to get to these entries.   Life has once again gotten in the way of doing what I begrudgingly somewhat enjoy.  Oh, that and not having a pass.  But not having a pass is no excuse for not writing about the movies I did see.  Even if there weren’t as many.  So yes, here’s the beginning of my attempt to get back on track.  Going forward, until I’m caught up, I’ll make a note of when I actually saw the movies being written about.  This is more for my benefit than anything else.   But then again isn’t this all?  Originally viewed:  May 20, 2012]

The Hunger Games

Cast:  Jennifer Lawrence (Katniss Everdeen), Liam Hemsworth (Gale Hawthorne),  Josh Hutcherson (Peeta Mellark), Stanley Tucci (Caesar Flickerman), Elizabeth Banks (Effie Trinket), Donald Sutherland (President Snow), and Woody Harrelson (Haymitch Abernathy).  Written by Gary Ross, Suzanne Collins, and Billy Ray.  Directed by Garry Ross.

This isn’t for me.   That’s the first thing I needed to remember when I went to see The Hunger Games.  Oh, I’m sure that director Gary Ross and crew hoped I’d like it, but, as a 30 year old male, I wasn’t their target audience.  This, of course, doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t have an opinion.  It just means that it doesn’t matter as much to the folks behind the film as those coming from the young adult crowd to which this was catered.  And that’s one of the biggest points that people seem to be missing in this age of Twilight and Harry Potter.  These flicks weren’t made with the sensibilities of older folks in mind.  That some of them can transcend their audience to more universal appeal is awesome, but perhaps the expectations need to be tempered a bit.  Oh, and the backlash.  But that’s a subject for different blog.

I guess what I’m saying is that I was fully prepared for The Hunger Games to be all hype and no substance.  That so many adults seemed to enjoy it meant only that it was better than folks expected.  Sure, it could blow Twilight away, but does that mean that it’s good, or merely that because it’s better- significantly so- than Twilight, it appears to be good.   Again, all hype, little substance.  Well, at least in my mind, The Hunger Games was a genuinely good film.

By now, the plot must be known to virtually anyone with a pulse.  Set in a dystopian future (because bright futures make for crap films), The Hunger Games tells the tale of a group of young people (teens really)sentenced to participate in a battle royal to the death- both as an ongoing punishment for crimes against the ruling authority, and for the viewing pleasure of a bloodthirsty, reality TV obsessed populace.  It’s all fun and games… especially when kids kill each other for sport.  Ah yes, a movie ripe for moralizing.   One of the young combatants, the noble Katniss Everdeen (Jennifer Lawrence- who continues to astound as an actress), has volunteered to participate in this madness so that her much younger and much less resourceful sister will be spared from the competition.  This is, of course, Katniss’s story.  Well actually, in literal terms, it is the story of that year’s games; from the time of the selections right up to the last battle- which may not actually have been waged between the young tributes.  During this process, training is completed, relationships are forged, a love triangle is established and battles are lost and won.   Anyone who is remotely familiar with the story knows who survives the carnage. 

And yet, despite these conventions and the story’s being inherently anticlimactic (to a degree), I really did find myself riveted by The Hunger Games.  I’d chalk this up to two triumphs mainly.  The first were the performances.  I can’t recall any that weren’t awesome.  And three went above that level.  Jennifer Lawrence is fast becoming one of the most incredible talents in Hollywood.  I haven’t seen all her work, but of what I have seen, there isn’t a misfire in the bunch.  Including The Hunger Games.  Woody Harrelson  as Haymitch Abernathy, Katniss’s district’s mentor, pulls off his usual difficult dance of understated crazy.  But then, you’d have to be a little bit crazy to survive the games, wouldn’t you?   And Stanley Tucci oozes sleazy charisma as the games’ master of ceremonies, Caesar Flickerman.  Each one of these performances rose just a bit above the rest of the solid cast.

The other major triumph of the filmmakers, and this is not to be understated, was how completely the created the world of The Hunger Games.  They truly seemed to capture the essence of this horrible world, and they did so seamlessly, wholly, and utterly believably.  (To put it awkwardly).  It felt… for lack of a better word… real.  Too often in movies, entire worlds seem to be conjured solely for the purpose of the story.  And yes while this is always true, the best films make you feel as though you are passing through the setting, that there was a history before you came along, and things will continue to happen after you’ve passed on through.  Too many movies make it feel as though the world your viewing will vanish as soon as the end credits roll.  I know this is hard to explain, but the world of The Hunger Games was just so fully realized it’s easy to imagine it was real… or could be real.  It didn’t seem like a plot device.  And that makes for a completely engrossing film.

This isn’t to say that The Hunger Games was perfect.  It wasn’t.  At times, the character development, relationship development, and plot felt rushed (as often happens when filmmakers err on the side of staying true to the book, rather than the organic pace of the movie), and some characters were far too one-dimensional or conventional (the bad guys had little subtlety- you knew they were “bad”, but in a world like this, shouldn’t there be some blurring of the lines?  Shouldn’t there be more nuance?  Or are they afraid we’d root for the wrong tributes?)  But on the whole, I would say that this genuinely was a really good movie- not just good for its genre.  Worth the hype?  I don’t know.  But entertaining as all get out and well-made.  And really, that’s all you hope for anyway, right?

Grade: A- 

New to Me 2012: 1.) The Help

The Help

I barely squeezed this one in before the Oscars on Sunday... that way, I was able to form all sorts of opinions I then kept to myself...

Roll Call:  Emma Stone, Viola Davis, Octavia Spencer, Bryce Dallas Howard, Jessica Chastain, Allison Janney, and Sissy Spacek.  Tate Taylor and Kathryn Stockett, writers.  Tate Taylor, director.

What's It About:  The Help tells the story of pseudo-society girl Skeeter Phelan's (Emma Stone- awesome as usual, but a bit underrated compared to her cast mates) efforts to write a tell-all book from the perspective of African-American servants in 1960s Jackson, Mississippi.

What About It:  Depending on who you talk or listen to, this is either an insightful, period piece that digs deep into an essential American problem...or it's a sugary, stereotype-reinforcing flick designed to show that African-Americans could never have made it above their lot as house servants and such without the help of the white savior.  Ok, so maybe those aren't the only two descriptions out there, but they are two of the ones asserted most vociferously... even if boiling the movie down as such is a bit ridiculous.  The truth- in all likelihood- is somewhere in the middle.  Was it fluffy?  Yeah...in spots.  Did it perpetuate stereotypes?  Well... that depends.  I'd say no-insofar as if you're telling this specific story then these folks aren't stereotypes, they're characters.  I'd also argue that this is an instance where the white savior motif is only true to those who didn't see the movie... or at least didn't see it with an open mind.  Sure, Skeeter was white... and she was necessary to document the "Help's" (as servants are known in the movie) tales (let's not forget where and when we are here), but Skeeter wasn't inventing the stories.  She needed the servants to stick their necks on the line, open up, and call it how they'd seen it.  Skeeter needed the Help as much as they needed her.  And, I'd also point out, the African American characters were the ones given the better sense of dimension to their characters.  Most of the white society girls come off as one-note plot devices.  Played to great effect, but still.  Most of the white characters are given unspoken labels: "she's the  _____ one."  The only white characters to escape this are Skeeter and Jessica Chastain's flighty Celia Foote- and even then, only at times. Again, though, it plays well in the film.  I just wish that all the characters were as richly developed as Viola Davis's Aibileen Clark and Octavia Spencer's Minny Jackson.  Aibileen and Minny are the meat of the movie, everyone else is just dressing.  (Though both Emma Stone and Jessica Chastain were fantastic.  So was Bryce Dallas Howard and Allison Janney for that matter- it's more just that their characters were so shallow that it was hard to notice how spot on they were).

Clearly this was the Viola Davis-Octavia Spencer show (it's actually damn shame Viola Davis didn't win the Best Actress Oscar- it's not that Meryle Streep was bad; she was great in what had to be a daunting role in The Iron Lady- it's just that Davis crushed it here.  I didn't think anyone would be able to top Michelle Williams from My Week With Marilyn but Davis damn near made me forget that role.  She was amazing).  And take that to heart.  I'm not going to go so far as to say that they are the only reason to watch the movie- it's actually a well-done... and... nice...flick.  But Davis and Spencer are definitely worth the price of admission.  Every time the story wanted them to break out the caricature, Davis and Spencer resisted.  I'm sure that to some, these two did represent stereotypes.  Soulful (Davis) and Sassy (Spencer).  I'd just urge anyone who thought that way to look closer.  They both refused to let Aibileen and Minny become anything short of multifaceted and complex human beings... you know, like real people.  (I suppose, as a white male, this may be one of those cases where my opinion doesn't matter all that much... but...hell... this is my blog and these are my two cents... just calling them how I see them.  For better or worse).  I guess I could sum it up as this: if you like the feeling of getting to know your movie characters, you'll like what you see here with Davis and Spencer.  They brought their characters to life.  It was great to see.

The Bottom Line:  I'd venture to say that if you like a movie that's able to evoke a time and place pretty darn well while also bringing richly developed characters to life, you'll probably like The Help.  Is it perfect?  No.  Does it simplify and... fluff--ify a real complex issue?  Yes.  But... well... in a sense... so what?  It was entertaining, superbly acted, and just heavy enough to keep it grounded- even amidst the fluff.  It may not change your life...but who said it needed to?  It's just a movie.  And a pretty darn good one at that.

Grade: A

Movie List 2012: 10.) Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close

Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close

Gotta hurry up and get this in before the Oscars... for some odd reason.  It's not like it matters...

Roll Call: Tom Hanks, Thomas Horn, Sandra Bullock, John Goodman, Max Von Sydow, Viola Davis, and Jeffrey Wright.  Eric Roth and Jonathan Safran Foer, writers.  Stephen Daldry, director.

What's It About: A young boy's (Thomas Horn) quest to find the lock (and healing) that fits the mysterious key left behind by his father (Tom Hanks) who perished in the 9/11 attacks in New York City.

What About It:  I have to say that this isn't one I was in a hurry to see.  It had all the trappings of a sentimentally overloaded sludge of a movie- the sort of movie whose end goal would seem to be to manufacture a river of tears from the audience.  And given the subject matter here, I'd find that a bit repulsive.  And, actually, the first reviews were not kind.  Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close?  More like, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close to Exploitation- to paraphrase one critic.  (Don't remember which one).  So, with all that expressed, I wasn't exactly going to rush out and see it.  But then, a few people I know saw it and several of them liked it a lot.  Add to that that it was nominated for Best Picture and Max Von Sydow was nominated for Best Supporting Actor (by the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences- to completely insult your intelligence) and I pretty much had to see it- later/sooner rather than later/later (I mean the thing's been out since Christmas and I just saw it on President's Day).

I have to say, I'm glad I saw it.  I'm not sure it's one that I ever would have gotten around to on video considering how few I do see at home (though, still without a pass, that may change).  And I think the fact that I saw it here on Long Island added something to the viewing experience.  The theater was relatively packed for a movie that has been out for so long, and I just got the sense that to these people (and make no mistake, I have yet to talk to someone who didn't know someone directly or indirectly- though closely indirectly- who wasn't affected in a personal manner by the attacks) this movie meant something.  I think a majority of the folks who dealt with the tragedy on such a close level are still grappling with the healing and I suspect that a number of New Yorkers who saw the movie- or read the novel and then saw the movie- were hoping to experience some level of healing right along side Oskar (Thomas Horn).  I know, I know.  I typically don't buy such prone-to-BS notions.  But, I have to say, sitting in that theater as the movie was playing I did sense something different in that crowd.  All I can say, again, is that it seemed to mean something for them to see the movie.  And I doubt many of them saw it as exploitation... though honestly to a degree it was.  As would any motion picture about any tragic event would be.  These aren't not-for-profit groups putting the movies out.

So I guess I have to raise a question I rarely consider when it comes to movies (mostly because I see a movie's primary purpose being to entertain, then perhaps I consider it art, then finally an effective means of delivering a message or anything along those lines).  But given what this event- 9/11-meant to people.  Given it's effects on all Americans and New Yorkers in particular (not to diminish what happened in Washington D.C. and Pennsylvania), was it worth it to bring this all up in such clear focus for the sake of a movie?  Clearly, the filmmakers were playing with some pretty painful wounds.  Don't think so?  Just the sight of the ominous black plume of smoke rising from the World Trade Center towers was enough to bring a good number of the audience to tears.  And it only increased as the the movie's main characters were put through what so many people experienced on such a horrific level a decade ago.  So, was it worth to bring this all up so vividly?  I'm not so sure it was.  But for practical purposes, I suppose I'll have to leave it as a more rhetorical question.  I'm not the right person to answer that question.  I imagine I have a much different view of  the events of 9/11 than most New Yorkers.  I assume most of the country does (with the exception again of those folks in Washington D.C. and anyone who lost someone on any of the doomed flights).  I watched the day's events unfold on TV- and I didn't watch them live.  I was a student at Marquette University.  And, with an 8AM class, I was sitting in the classroom as the planes were crashing.  They let us out of class early and by the time I made it back to my dorm room, I had a pretty firm grasp on what was going on.  I then, with my roommate, proceeded to watch and rewatch the morning's horrific events for several hours straight.  Later, we both went to Ultimate Frisbee practice.  And it was a relief to be able to put that out of our minds for a few hours.  I doubt anyone in New York or Washington D.C. had such a luxury.  But that's the thing with many of us.  9/11 was TV, a TV event.  I don't mean to be a heartless, soulless individual but, it's true.  I can't picture the events of that morning without seeing them reflected through a TV screen.  We shut the TV off and walked away.  New Yorkers didn't have that option.  New Yorkers were hit hard.  And hit in real time.  Sorry for the tangent.  I just wanted to underscore my doubt over whether I can answer the question I raised before.  Clearly, I can't.  And I haven't been able to find anyone who could.  Not that I've tried too hard, though.  Prior to seeing the movie, I thought it was going to be awful.

And awful it wasn't.  Just on the basics and merits of it being a movie it wasn't awful (as opposed to being a meaningful tool for collective healing that is).  That doesn't mean I was in love with it though.  Some of what I think about it is going to make me seem as heartless and soulless as my previous paragraph.  But I felt what I felt...so to get on with it I'll mention that Thomas Horn gives one hell of a performance as a kid with some pretty serious emotional/development issues to begin with who then gets tossed into this brutal chaos.  It's rare to see a child actor be able to disappear so well into a role.  And Horn does it with what seems to be ease.  That said, I couldn't help but think the character came off less as having emotional issues and more as a spoiled brat or to be even baser a little shit.  If the filmmakers hadn't gone to such lengths to explain that- while they won't put an exact label to it- the kid's got issues that are clearly out of his control- starting with overwhelming anxiety- I would have found the whole thing deplorable.  The things Oskar says, the way he treats people, and how little grasp his parents have over what he does... something just seems out of whack with it.  That said, I have had very little experience with kids who have any level of developmental or emotional problems so I will admit that I may be wrong or off here.  But it just seems as though the filmmakers could have gone in a bit of a different direction.  Did Oskar have to be so... mouthy?  I don't know, but it was particularly irksome when it played for laughs- perhaps more than director Stephen Daldry and company would have liked.  I should mention, though, that after a while I was able to just put those feelings in my back pocket and let the movie play out with only the occasional wince.  And it became much easier to watch.

Aside from that and the story's relative implausibility  and tendency to turn many of its background characters into caricatures (Oskar's search for the missing lock has him attempting to talk to every New Yorker with the surname of Black- many of the folks he meets show up on screen as overly quirky characters- in every sense of the word.  It got to be a bit annoying...), there really wasn't much to complain about here.  The story, despite the enormous potential pitfalls it was built around turned out to be compelling and surprisingly not overburdened by grasps at heartstrings.  The acting was rock solid as well.  I've already mentioned Horn's near-miraculous performance.  Beyond him, Tom Hanks as Oskar's deceased father (seen in flashback) and Sandra Bullock as Oskar's grieving mother do what they do best- play convincing and interesting everyday people.  (Extraordinary ordinary folks).  Viola Davis, Jeffrey Wright, and John Goodman all help the film along as well.  Of course, besides Horn, the real gem of the movie is Max Von Sydow as the mysterious, mute "Renter" (a name given to him because he rents a room in Oskar's grandmother's apartment).  With a mischievous twinkle in his eye and an incredible ability to portray a host of emotions without saying a word, Von Sydow became- for me- a reason to stay engaged with the movie.  I don't think it's coincidence that I was able to enjoy the movie more once "The Renter" appeared.  He somehow managed to add a dash of humanity to the little brat (I'm sorry, but it's true... to a degree) at the story's center.  (And by no means do I think the filmmakers envisioned Oskar as a brat- nor do I think the character was supposed to be inherently bratty- or at least to that level.  But he came off as a little shit.  That's all there is to it.  It's unfortunate.)  On the whole, given everything it has going for it, I couldn't help but be impressed by the effort here.  It could have turned out much differently.  I'm glad it didn't.

The Bottom Line:  It's absolutely shocking that Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close managed- at least in my mind- to avoid coming off as anything other that sheer exploitation (at the worst) or treacly crap (at the best).  Somehow it avoids giving off an aura of contrived sentimentality and as it hit its stride, it became a watchable and- beyond that- compelling movie.  Kudos there.  In lesser hands, this movie could easily have been a travesty (and I don't use that term lightly).  But Daldry and company did the best they could with some tricky subject matter.  Is the payoff for dredging up such horrific memories in such vivid detail worth it?  That's not for me to say.   What I can say is that this definitely was a pretty darn good- if not great- effort.

Grade: B+

Movie List 2012: 9.) The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo

The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo


Roll Call: Daniel Craig, Rooney Mara, Christopher Plummer, Stellan Skarsgard, Steven Berkoff, Robin Wright.  Steven Zaillan and Stieg Larsson, writers.  David Fincher, director.

What's It About:  Based on the Swedish international best-selling novel by the same name, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo tells the tale of disgraced journalist Mikael Blomkvist's (Daniel Craig) efforts to solve a 40-year-old murder mystery.  He is aided in his search by social outcast and hacker extraordinaire, Lisbeth Salander (Rooney Mara).

What About It:  It'd be impossible to judge the movie without considering how well it sticks to the book it's based upon.  For fans of the novel, it was just about the perfect mix of murder mystery and social commentary.  Sure, not everything depicted therein was particularly sunny (though I think that suggestions that Larsson was a sick SOB who delighted on the mental imagery of the tortures he ran his female lead character through is- at the very least- nonsense), but the book was a taut page-turner.  Could the movie achieve a similar cinematic triumph?

In a word: Yes.  The movie did a decent enough job of staying true to the novel.  All the elements of the compelling murder mystery- including the ability to keep the mystery unsolved for the viewer until very late in the game- show up on screen.  Director David Fincher and company were also able to bring the intense, unique persona of Lisbeth Salander to the screen wonderfully.  I can't think of many more compelling movie characters- certainly not any female characters- than Salander (whom Mara plays with all the right intensity and emotional detachment.  She absolutely disappears into this complex character... it's fascinating to see).  Is Salander a role model?  Perhaps not.  But she does play the game of life by her own rules and even if those rules are maddening at times, you can't help but respect her inability to be driven down by a society that refuses to let her be herself.  (Salander- due to past "deviant" behavior- is made a ward of the state... a situation that turns from unfair and inconvenient to horrific throughout the course of the movie).  Mara's personification of Lisbeth- I would imagine- is Salander how Steig Larsson wanted us to see her.  It's absolutely riveting.  Had a tough time taking my eyes off her... and I imagine most fans of the book will have a similarly difficult time looking away- despite all that happens.  Mara just draws you in that completely.

So, given that the fast-paced murder mystery thriller, and the singular character of Lisbeth Salander are more than sufficiently recreated on screen, it'd be safe to say that The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo is a home run, right?  Well... yes... and no.  True, the basic elements of the novel are presented, but Fincher, Zaillon, and company did change several key details from the book.  Normally, I understand that these types of decisions need to be made.  To include every component of a 400-plus page book is to commit to making a four and a half hour movie... minimum.  Still, one of the best things about Larsson's novel was how richly and deeply realized his characters were.   You get the sense of coming to know virtually everyone who appears in the story.  Given the number of characters in the story, this is no mean feat.  Unfortunately, some of the details left out in the film serve to diminish this character development.  For example, Lisbeth's relationships with her mother, Dragan Armansky, and Holger Palmgren are all either de-emphasized, or eliminated completely.  So while I think that the filmmakers did an excellent job of bringing Lisbeth to life, I don't think they brought the fully-realized version of Salander to the story.  And that's a bit of a shame since she's the real motor that makes the story go.  Blomkvist, Erika Berger (Robin Wright), and many of the Vangers (the family for whom... and of whom?... Blomkvist is investigating) suffer the same fate.  Again, I understand that difficult decisions needed to be made, but I wonder if there were other possible cuts- editing that wouldn't have taken such a toll on character development.  Like.. say...maybe cutting out the gratuitous and overly long opening credit animated sequence.  Just a thought.

I also have to wonder if folks who didn't read the book would have struggled with the movie.  I definitely benefited from having read the novel in advance.  At times, the movie comes off as a bit of a parade of characters- some of which are given little in the way of introduction.  Also, several scenes seem to have been casually dropped in by Fincher and crew- almost as though they hoped the majority of the audience had read the book so they could make the connection.  For those of us who had, no problem, it all made sense.  For those who didn't...?  Well, let's just say that I heard some confused murmuring coming from folks in the audience who evidently hadn't read the book or had forgotten a few details of the book... or, I suppose had read the book and were a little lost nonetheless.  My sense, though, was that  the folks who were constantly questioning their companions were folks who had little prior familiarity with the story.  And I should mention that there weren't many such murmurers.

I really have no frame of reference for reviewing the movie from the vantage of not having prior familiarity with the story.  I also have a tough time believing that if you paid close enough attention, it wouldn't all make sense in the end, one way or the other (a herculean feat for some movie-watchers, I know).  For me, not only did it all make perfect sense, it proved to be as engrossing and incredibly interesting as the novel.  Well maybe not as compelling, but darn close.  As far as crime/murder mystery thrillers go, you won't find too many better... at least in terms of recent efforts.

The Bottom Line:  Despite its drawbacks, I thoroughly enjoyed the movie.  I had been meaning to see the original Swedish version of the story prior to seeing Fincher's American take.  My thought had been that I didn't want my mind clouded by this remake when I was viewing the original.  It usually ends up that the original version of foreign movies are edgier, truer, and often, just plain better than their American counterparts (or perhaps I should say, respected critics lead me to believe the aforementioned is true... I rarely see foreign originals.. I'd say it's a personal failing... but for the few I have seen, I tend to agree with the respected critics).  All that said, I'd have a tough time believing the Swedes could have pulled the story off any better (though, I suppose I could be wrong).  I'm not saying that Fincher's version will definitely be a better effort, what I am saying is that if the Swedish version manages to even come close to the American, I'd be extremely happy (and if it does manage to exceed it... well... wow).

Grade: A 

Movie List 2012: 8.) The Artist

The Artist


Still without a pass but I owe it to my reader to keep on trucking... especially when it comes to watching and reviewing the Oscar Best Picture front-runner...

Roll Call: Jean Dujardin, Berenice Bejo, John Goodman, James Cromwell, Penelope Ann Miller, and Uggie the dog.  Michel Hazanavicius, writer and director.

What's It About:  The simultaneous struggle of silent film superstar George Valentin (Jean Dujardin) and meteoric rise of budding starlet Peppy Miller (Berenice Bejo) as talkies begin to overtake silent films in Hollywood.  And yes, of course, the movie itself is a mostly silent film.

What About It:   What about it?  How about the fact that it is the odds-on favorite to capture the Oscar for Best Picture?  Though, that really doesn't reveal much about the film, does it?  Just, I suppose, that a lot of people expect it to win best picture.  But should it?  Well, it wouldn't be the worst film to do so, but, at the same time, I can think of better films this year.  So... should it win?  Probably not.  At least in my mind.

Ok, with that out of the way... let me say this: it's a hell of a charming movie.  Maybe not the most charming movie I've ever seen, but it won me over pretty easily.  I'm not sure if it's the premise or the style or what, but I enjoyed watching the movie.  Now, that being said, I can't say I was blown away by it.  It didn't feel as fresh as- say- Slumdog Millionaire did a few years ago, but it was thoroughly enjoyable.  And I suppose that's a credit to Michel Hazanavicius as much as anyone.  The whole silent movie routine could easily have come off as a gimmick or a stunt, but somehow Hazanavicius manages to make it work.  The fact that it's a nearly silent movie seems right and natural for the story; it never felt forced or out of place.  (And in the few times the film does incorporate sound- other than the lively soundtrack- its use is pretty ingenious.)  I guess that was my biggest fear in going to see the movie; I was afraid that the whole silent movie gig would essentially devolve into a heavy-handed, "look how clever we are", attention-gobbling stunt.  But, it just didn't end up there.  In fact that angle probably made it a more enjoyable and charming movie on the whole.  So, well played Monsieur Hazanavicius.

I imagine, though, that the whole silent film trick was pretty darn risky.  Without the right cast, it could have flopped... big time.  Fortunately, Hazanavicius and crew hit a home run when filling out their casting card.  Jean Dujardin seems tailor-made for the role of George Valentin with his dashing, Golden-Age of Hollywood good looks and sly expression.  Likewise, Berenice Bejo was an absolute gem as the plucky sweetheart in the making Peppy Miller.  I imagine it would be incredibly hard not to fall in love with her performance here.  Both Dujardin and Bejo prove to be pros at the silent-film game.  Both present performances rich with subtle and evocative expression; the tilt of the head or flash of an eye saying so much more than words could. The real gem of the cast- outside, of course, of Uggie the Jack Russell Terrier- however, was John Goodman.  I suppose this shouldn't be much of a surprise now that I think of it- Goodman has, it would seem, always been an incredibly expressive actor (particularly in The Big Lebowski).  But here, in my mind, he steals many of the scenes he's in.  I really could sense the vibe Goodman was supposed to give off:  a big shot studio boss with a heart of partial gold and enough slime around the edges that you feel as though you need to wash up after hanging around with him... even if you did enjoy it.  And all that was revealed through facial and body expression.  Expertly at that, I might add.  Actually, in truth, I can't think of a single actor who fell flat in the face of the unique demands brought on by this type of movie.  Does that mean that a silent flick is easier to act than a talkie?  Probably not.  In this case, I think it means that the casting folks did their job extremely well.

And yet, despite everything The Artist has going for it, I can't help but feel a little let down by it.  I liked the movie a great deal, but I guess I was just expecting to be blown away by it... and I wasn't.  This may- in part- be because one of the prevailing criticisms of the film actually rang truer than I had hoped.  I was sure that the increasing number of critics and casual viewers calling the film fluff, slight, or thin was just a case of natural front-runner backlash gaining momentum.  It seems like every early Best Picture candidate through the years has to fight off a wave of pre-ceremony backlash designed to either create artificial suspense and intrigue or to knock a the favorite out of pole-position.  Wasn't The King's Speech knocked around a bit last year for being too "typically Oscar"?  (Or something to that effect).  This year, there seems to be a number of folks carrying on about how The Artist is a nice movie, but it has about as much depth as a piece of paper.  I had hoped that this criticism was off the mark.  And while I think it isn't as thin as many suggest, I do have to admit that the story does lack any substantial depth.  It is a very much on-the-surface movie.  It just is what it is.  George Valetin is on the top of the world, the dawn of sound kicks in forcing the ever-prideful actor out of the spotlight and into despair, and then with a little help from his friends, George seeks a comeback.  Meanwhile, Peppy Miller goes from complete unknown to Hollywood megawatt star and, all the while finds herself falling for the increasingly downtrodden George.  The story goes from point A to point B to point C and that's it.  It finds its path and sticks to it.  Or so it seems.  I actually see some subtle points being made about the ruthlessness of the early Hollywood studio system and the price and cost of pride.  But the movie almost seems to make observations on these themes by accident.  Squint really hard and you might see deeper meaning.  Still, it's not enough for me to write off the mounting criticism.  Which is unfortunate because it really is a nice movie.  A really nice, enjoyable, fluffy movie.

The Bottom Line:  So, I guess this all begs a question: does a movie need to dig deeper to be good?  Can't it just present a really simple, really cool story in a unique and- above all- expert way?  Well, yeah, I suppose there's nothing wrong with a nice but fluff-laden movie.  It's just that in the case of The Artist it could have been better if it had just dug a little deeper.  Just a little.  The performances are there, the charm is there, the look and feel are there.  So what's missing?  Depth?  Well, maybe.  But all that means is that it isn't among the best of the best.  But because it does what it does so damn well, it's hard to think of it as anything other than a really good movie.

Grade: A-

Movie List 2012: 7.) Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace

Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace... in 3D


Yeah... ok... so I've actually already seen this some years ago... but not in the theater... not in 3D... and I've never written about it.  So deal.

Roll Call: Liam Neeson, Ewan McGregor, Natalie Portman, Jake Llyod, Ahmed Best, Anthony Daniels, Kenny Baker, Frank Oz, Samuel L. Jackson, Sophia Coppola, Keira Knightley (ok, so not all those folks are "stars" but just figured I'd point out they they were in it).  Written (for better or worse) and directed by George Lucas.

What's It About: It's the beast that restarted it all.  Basically the movie's sole purpose is to establish the world of Star Wars... that is the new world of Star Wars... which is actually the world that predated (in the story) the old world of Star Wars from the originally released trilogy. ... wait... what?  In terms of plot, Queen Amidala (Natalie Portman) is trying to save Naboo- through peaceful channels- from the blockade and more nefarious actions of the evil Trade Federation.  A couple of Jedi Knights (Liam Neeson's Qui-Gon Jinn and Ewan McGregor's Obi-Wan Kenobi) lend aid, especially as the shit (read: Sith) hits the fan.  Oh, and there's also pod-racing.  Just cuz.

What About It:  Well, there's no way to avoid it.  When one thinks about Episode I one can't help but think about the one and only Jar Jar Binks- possibly the worst movie character ever conceived (or so the fanboys would have us believe... sadly, I don't think their far off).  And, well, it's true Jar Jar Binks is a stain on the movie.  He's horribly annoying and distracting.  Once he stumbles on screen, the movie never had a chance.  I originally thought it was so awful, that it killed my will to see the other two movies of the "new" trilogy... and I still haven't gotten around to checking them out.  In a way, though, I was actually happy that George Lucas wanted to put an addition on Skywalker Ranch.  It gave me the opportunity to re-watch the movie with- perhaps- a better, more experienced and distanced perspective.  I haven't watched any of the original Star Wars movies in quite some time, and I wasn't overly eager to see what Episode I had to offer, having already had that experience.  So maybe a fresh look (in mind-numbingly gratuitous 3D no less!) would help me better get a handle on the movie's actual merits.. if it had any.

In short, it still kinda stunk.  And Binks was as annoying and distracting as ever... if not more so given his extra dimensionality here.  The rest of the story, however, wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it was on first viewing.  It wasn't original-trilogy good either, though.  But- again- what really drags it down is the inclusion of Jar Jar Binks (and to a lesser extent all the Gungans).  So just what made Binks (Ahmed Best, who should- according to George Lucas [as pointed out in an Entertainment Weekly article]- be regarded as a pioneer for giving one of the first motion-capture performances ever) so blasted annoying?  Or rather why did he torpedo this movie?  Actually, there are several reasons why Binks was such an awful character and why that fact shoved the movie onto the trash heap.  Here are a few:

1.) Binks was aggressively slap-sticky in a movie series that had previously proven to have some degree of subtlety, nuance, and nimbleness- if also still bordering on melodrama from time to time.  The EW article pointed out that Binks was hardly the first misstep for Lucas and company when it came to the Star Wars films.  Apparently both C-3PO and the Ewoks were also ridiculous additions to the Star Wars canon.  And, yeah, while these both might have been silly and perhaps ultimately goofy additions to the story line, they were never quite as aggressively ridiculous as Binks proved to be.  C-3PO was an annoying chatterbox and the Ewoks were present solely to exploit a cute/kiddie angle, but I didn't see either as being in-your-face.  Binks is in-your-face throughout the entire movie.  He's constantly tripping over himself, making life miserable for the other characters, screwing things up, or succeeding only through blind, but dumb, luck.  On top of that, he's a whiny, wussy bastard that had no right surviving the establishment of the series' mythology.  The only thing missing from this trite and grating performance was somebody inadvertently smashing his Gungan gonads (preferably with a Star Wars-esque football of some kind) and him keeling over while screeching in an alien soprano.  All that said, his pratfalls and slapstick schtick seemed to delight the ample number of kiddies in the audience.  But is that enough to justify this mess of a character?  Was Lucas really trying to set the background for the entire space opera or was he trying to convert Star Wars into a run-of-the-mill (albeit with awesome special effects) kiddie flick?  Actually with the inclusion of a pint-sized Anakin (Jake Lloyd in his second-to-last performance...ever.) and somewhat meaningless (outside of its inherent appeal to kiddies) pod-racing sequence, it would seem that making a kids' flick was really Lucas's goal.  But come on, George, kids probably would have dug the cool space-y-ness of the flick and all the awesome lightsaber dueling without the inclusion of Binks and his cornucopia of pratfalls.  I mean, really, let's juxtapose the grace and all-out badassery of a two-on-one lightsaber battle with Binks' falling all over himself, inadvertently offing a number of Federation battle droids.  Come.  On.  How'd these two sequences end up in the same movie?  Or  perhaps the better question is why?  I understand if George wanted to make a movie his young kids could enjoy, but if his young kids like that kind of crap shouldn't they just tune into America's Funniest Home Videos?  Then the more sophisticated audience wouldn't have to suffer for their delights.

2.)  That bloody language.  It just adds to the ridiculousness of Binks.  "Mee-sah this"  and "Me-sah that."  Whiny.  Ugh.  And here's the bit that's really frustrating:  it didn't need to be this way.  It actually smacks of laziness or lack of creativity that Lucas chose to create a language based on some bastardization of English... or, perhaps more accurately... pigeon-English.  Lucas had created a number of other languages built around funky noises, beeps, growls, and the like.  Why would the Gungans have developed this crappy Enligh-esque language?  I could even forgive it if the Gungans used the "English-esque" language only to communicate with their humanoid acquaintances.  After all, it could easily be understood if the Gungans developed a language based on that which their Naboo neighbors speak to communicate with said neighbors.  Happens all the time.  But why in the world would they communicate with each other through that same awful speak.  Couldn't Lucas have come up with some other grunts or whatnot and have that serve as the basis of Gungan communication?  Yeah, easily.  And perhaps he should have.

3.) Binks seems like the antithesis of Star Wars.  What other character even resembles Binks's over-the-top-ness in anyway?  The closest may be when Yoda wasn't revealed to be Yoda in The Empire Strikes Back.  And even then he's a ways off of what Binks represents. All that said, this is actually the stickiest argument.  Binks really only actually seems like the antithesis of Star Wars to us.  And in reality, we don't count.  As my brother-in-law, Jason (who saw the movie with me), pointed out, "it's his movie, and obviously he can do what he wants with it."  So true.  It is his movie.  He created the Star Wars universe.  He designed the Star Wars feel.  Is it really up to us to determine what does or does not belong in the Star Wars story?  Some may argue that Lucas loses some of his proprietary rights once he puts the movie on public display.  The audience then adopts it and it becomes as much theirs as his.  This is actually a bit ridiculous.  We may be able to determine what ultimately feels right for the story, but we can't truthfully make determinations on what does or does not belong in the tale.  That's Lucas's job.  But, that doesn't mean we have to like it.  And here, it's plain to see that most folks didn't like Binks's inclusion, and that his inclusion made the movie feel less like a traditional Star Wars movie based on the standard established by episodes four, five, and six.  Debating whether or not Binks was an authentic Star Wars character is actually rather pointless.  He was- in the minds of many fans, including myself- an annoying and gratuitous persona that served only to degrade the quality of the movie.  You win some... you lose some, and Lucas lost big here.

In the end, Jar Jar Binks wasn't the only reason why The Phantom Menace came off as a lesser film.  For some reason, this particular effort kind of came off as a showcase displaying all that Lucas and his crack team of special effects mad scientists could create.  You want some funky aliens?  Yep.  Here you go.  Awesome pod-racing sequences?  We can do that.  Sweeping, amazing-looking battle scenes?  We got that covered.  I never had the feeling that Lucas had been using the original trilogy as a means of showing off, and perhaps I'm being too harsh in this assessment here.  But it just seemed showy.  I don't know.  Maybe the original trilogy would have seemed showy too had I been old enough to have experienced the three movies in their time.  Instead, the special effects came off as cool, but, perhaps a bit quaint- though still amazing and integral to the story.  And they felt more real to boot.  I think one of the biggest mistakes Lucas made was when he started to digitally add creatures here and there to later releases of episodes four, five, and six.  Incredibly (or not) it was actually the CGI images that stuck out and somehow looked less real.  And The Phantom Menace suffers in much the same way.  Sure Chewie looked- to a degree- like a guy in a walking shag-carpeted costume in the original trilogy (because he was)... but he was there.  Not so with the winged, barter-happy alien from Episode I.  It looks as though Neeson's Qui-Gon Jinn is talking to a point on the wall- as though he sees right through his adversary.  Han Solo always looked like he was bantering with Chewbacca.  A subtle difference, but an appreciated one.

Of course, all that would seem to amount to nit-picking at best, and at worst being frustrated with Lucas for not limiting himself only to outdated and undoubtedly much more expensive technology to pull his movie off.  This would seem like an especially specious dig considering how apparently new the technology Lucas was using was.  But, I can't help but think that this hindered the movie in some small way.  Even if that makes me a hair-splitting prick.

When you mix in the fact that the story revolved around a one-note adrenaline-junkie kid, the somewhat laborious and explanation-heavy plot (kind of a necessity with movies that are more or less solely created to establish a series... see Batman Begins... though I would say that The Phantom Menace tries too hard to explain many things... things that perhaps would have been better off left as a bit of a mystery), the forced nature of the burgeoning "love" story between Anakin Skywalker and Queen Amidala (Lucas and company plant the seeds... and it seems wrong), and some of the more outlandish revelations included here (thinking mostly of the fact that it turns out that Anakin Skywalker created C-3PO... seems ridiculous.  Darth Vader created 3PO...kind of creates a hmmm... oh... ugh situation...in my mind) and you're left with a movie that might have struggled a bit without the inclusion of Jar Jar Binks.  Was it as horrible as I originally thought it was?  No, and I probably shouldn't have written off the next two installments either.  Unfortunately, it wasn't everything that it could have been... and perhaps worse as a huge Star Wars fan... it wasn't everything that I hoped it would be.

The Bottom Line:  I know I went on about how we really don't have the right to say whether something is or is not worthy of the Star Wars universe.  If George Lucas says it's so, then, it's so.  Still, I really do have a tough time believing that this was the movie Lucas dreamed up when he plotted out the entire Star Wars saga so many years ago.  To that end, it's hard to view Star Wars Episode I: The Phantom Menace as anything other than a massive disappointment.  Would it have been as disappointing or negatively viewed without the lofty expectations produced by Episodes Four, Five, and Six?  Who knows, but that's a bit irrelevant.  The fact is, as it stands (damn you to hell, Jar Jar Binks) it just wasn't a great movie.

Grade: C+

Movie List 2012: 6.) The Iron Lady

The Iron Lady

Yeah, so, I haven't had to pay to see a movie in a theater since... oh... 2008 or so.  And so, I decided I'm going to break that spell with...The Iron Lady?  Yep. It's Oscar season, and The Iron Lady snagged a nom for Meryl Streep's performance therein.  At least it was a fairly cheap ticket.

Roll Call: Meryl Streep, Jim Broadbent, Alexandra Roach, Olivia Colman, and Harry Lloyd.  Abi Morgan, writer.  Phyllida Lloyd, director.

What's It About?  The life and times of one Margaret Thatcher (Meryl Streep), the UK's first female prime minister, its longest serving prime minister in the 20th Century (1979-1990).

What About It?  Let me get this out of the way right off the bat:  Meryl Streep was incredible in the movie.  Seeing the previews, I could only think that her performance was more going to resemble Leonardo Di Caprio's in J. Edgar, an imitation of a historical persona, rather than a portrayal.  Not so.  Streep disappeared into the role and helped bring Thatcher to life.  I know I've said that Streep could have a nasty bout of diarrhea on set and Oscar voters would nominate her for her "splendid" performance.  That may or may not be true.  (We do know that she's not likely to win for such a role, even if she is nominated).  It is true, however, that she earned her nomination here.  She was fantastic... and... as it happens... one of the only reasons (Jim Broadbent's performance as Thatcher's husband Denis being the only other) to see the movie.  I mean, other than Streep and Broadbent, the movie kind of stunk.

Well, maybe stunk isn't the right word.  It certainly wasn't all that it could have been.  I mean, if you like just-the-surface-and-nothing-else biopics, then by all means, eat this up; you'll love the hell out of it.  Me?  Nope, I need the filmmakers to dig deeper.  And here, they just wouldn't.  Ok, yes, hypocrisy alert.  For anyone paying attention (and I don't know who might... I probably could have just left it alone and been a flip-flopping hero), I've often said that you shouldn't attend movies to get a history lesson.  Movies are entertainment, not necessarily education.  Filmmakers are going to add details, downplay other details, and tweak a "true" story to maximize drama or tell the story they want to tell.  It happens.  And I have no problem with that.  I just want to be entertained.  But really, what's so entertaining about telling the life story of someone who should be somewhat compelling by unveiling a tale based on broad and simplistic generalizations that serve to boil this complicated (as most people are) individual into a series of one-note songs?  Not much.  What I gleaned from The Iron Lady:  Thatcher was motivated to become the leader of her party and later country because a.) she was inspired by her father, b.) thought her humble roots mattered, and c.) thought that women were being treated unfairly.  I also learned that Thatcher was a stubborn ass who treated people who didn't agree with her unkindly, and she more or less abandoned her family for a life in public office (I can't decide whether this was an intended lesson or not).  I was also led to believe that Thatcher was an incredible Prime Minister who overcame a lot of contention to bring her country back to greatness.  She might have been controversial too... but the film blames her stubborn nature- and to a degree- back-stabbing former supporters for her fall from grace.  Actually, we don't get to see much in the way of Thatcher's policies or ideologies... other than I'm right, you're wrong.  She hated labor-unions, thought even the poor should pay their fair share, and seemed to revel- or at the very least encourage- police to stomp the skulls of young protesters.  Oh, and often, where ever she went, said young protesters liked to smack her car's windows.  She was also plagued by the IRA.

What does all this amount to?  Veneer.  Facade.  The surface.  We don't get Abi Morgan or Phyllida Lloyd's stab at why or why it mattered (the infamous so what? question).  Everything just happens in the movie.  One event after the other.  Each designed, it would seem, to show off Streep's tremendous acting chops (nice to see, but still...).  One moment, Young Thatcher is vying for a seat in Parliament and losing, the next, she's won, the next, she decides to run for party leader, the next, the IRA is terrorizing her administration.  Anything deeper than just the "facts" and you're going to have to drawn your own conclusions.  But Kiernan- you pompous hack- aren't you always saying that you want to be shown what matters, not told when it comes to movies?  Indeed I am.  But- at least in my mind- Morgan, Lloyd, and company didn't really even try to show us anything deeper.  They just sort of slyly mentioned a few moments- almost as though they realized, "Hey, if we don't at least put this in to some degree, people are going to hammer us.  So why don't we have a news reporter casually mention that she harbored a few controversial opnions, etc."  And there you have it.  Bases covered.  Only... come on, folks!  Try to get into Thatcher's head.. a little bit.  At least Eastwood tried with Hoover.  This is all shiny surface.  Give me a break.

Beyond all that, I also need to mention that this was one of the most depressing movies I had seen in a while.  The story unfolds by having a present-day Thatcher, struggling with dementia, barely a shell of who she once was, recall all the details of her life in flashback as various modern-day reminders pop into her life.  As a story-telling device, it works pretty well, even if it is depressing watching a diminished person struggling to deal with their diminished-ness and straining to retain a sense of their relevancy.  I'm not going to deduct points because it's depressing.  That actually would sort of drive home the point that we should appreciate who and what we have while we're still fit to appreciate it.  No day should be taken for granted.  That said, it does bring up an interesting- and in this case, I believe- unintended consequence of such a set up.  If it's modern-day and dementia ridden Thatcher driving the story- how much are we to believe her account of what happened.  This is actually an issue that Eastwood (in perhaps his best move of that movie) brings front and center in J. Edgar.  In that instance, it was actually megalomaniac Hoover dictating his memoirs.  Hoover was in complete control of what he was saying- he was willfully distorting the past to make himself look greater... and he's eventually called on it.  Here, Thatcher is remembering things.  But how trustworthy is her memory.  Again, I don't think the film wants us to start thinking these things... and to that point... I believe I've read ("Do some research, you hack!"- you all seemed to say) that folks suffering from dementia have a much better grasp on their pasts than on their here and nows.  So perhaps Lloyd and company figure it was worth glossing over.  But to me, it makes for an interesting dynamic.  One that I probably would have missed, if the movie was- you know- more interesting in and of itself.  But... there you have it. (My favorite Ebert-written review ending... I know, I know.. I'm a hack).

Grade: C+  (the plus is for Streep hitting a home run).