To PSH on his Birthday

It seems like an impossibly strange thing to say, but I actually think Philip Seymour Hoffman is underrated. He’s remembered for his recent Oscar work and whatnot but the man’s been acting sine the beginning of the nineties and has been a great number of critical smashes. True, he’s also been in some abysmal ones. Whilst flipping the channels last week Along Came Polly came on and I realised that he was in. I’d forgotten that, as well everything else about that awful film, I’d also forgotten that he was in Scent of a Woman in 1992. He’s become a bit ubiquitous recently, and I think that ubiquity has made people forget how good he is. Here’s a refresher.
       

Freddy Miles in The Talented Mr. Ripley (1999)

 

“Tommy. How's the peeping? Tommy, how's the peeping?”

Father Brenda Flynn in Doubt (2008)

“Doubt can be a bond as powerful and sustaining as certainty. When you are lost, you are not alone.”

     

Truman Capote in Capote (2005)

“Sometimes when I think of how good my book is going to be, I can't breathe.”

Jon Savage in The Savages (2007)

 

“We're not in therapy now- we're in real life.”

Andy Hanson in Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead (2007)

 

“Hank, you're so stupid!”

             

And he's done a lot of good work that I haven't even touched, I have a soft spot for his ridiculous hambone performance in Cold Mountain. He's got three features coming out this year - MoneyBall with Pitt, The Ides of March with Gosling and Clooney and A Late Quartet with Christopher Walken and Catherine Keener (who he was brilliant in Capote with). Maybe it'll be like 2007 where he'll give two great performances and one good one, and they'll nominate him for the least distinguished. So, I predict that he gets nominated for MoneyBall. What do you remember Hoffman for?

Movie Meme, Day 2: A Movie More People Should See

I’d probably say that all the movies I like are films people should see more, but there are some movies that just don’t earn much money. Eventually classics reach cult status and their viewership increases exponentially as the years go by, but with recent film it’s a different ballgame. Give or take 2001 or 2010, I’d say that 2007 was probably the best year for films for the last decade. It sucks that one of the three best films from that year managed to go by with little notice, earning a mere 25 million at the box-office and racking up zero Oscar, BAFTA, Golden Globe or SAG Award nominations.

I’ve singled out the screenplay as one of the decade’s best as Ethan Hawke’s performance as one for the decade too. And really, the movie’s that good. Two deadbeat brothers (one more obviously deadbeat than the other) hatch a misguided plan to rob a jewellery that leads to such tragedy that calling it a melodrama would just be mean. Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead is a film so tautly created that I respect it as much as I love it. Sidney Lumet has a knack for becoming second fiddle in his films. He’s always doing such a good job of making his actors shine that I forget he’s the one helming them. The thing is, though the actors shine here, it’s Lumet who defines the brilliance in Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead. He’s always been known for his almost painstaking love for realism and the film is handled so brilliantly. Yes, everyone was going wild for the other bit of visceral directing that year, and sure I was going wild for that period flick but Sidney Lumet was so obviously head and shoulders above all other directors that year. It really does suck that he’s never been Oscared…

I’ll praise the brilliance that is Ethan Hawke to my grave, but it’s unfortunate that so few get to enjoy him in this – which is probably his best performance. Speaking of which, this is probably the best work from Phillip Seymour Hoffman too. Unless you’ve been in jail for the last ten years (or living in a cave) you’d know that Hoffman singlehandedly ruled the latter half of the decade. Add that to the fact that Albert Finney, one of the legendary greats, turns in a tour-de-force performance as their father and that Marisa Tomei’s woman-in-the-middle turn is even better than her excellent turns in In the Bedroom and The Wrestler and add that to the fact that Oscar nominees Amy Ryan and Michael Shannon give brilliant cameos and you’re probably wonder why you’ve never heard of this film…

Kelly Masterson (the screenwriter) is a cruel mistress. To say that Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead doesn’t give a damn about its implications is a gross understatement. It keeps on surprising you at every turn, though it’s never for the “shock” factor and always in service of the excellent script. I’m a little in love with it in all its delicious irreverence and lewdness, and though it’s not one that will appeal to all it deserves to be seen just because it’s that good. It’s easily one of the twenty five best films of the last decade…and definitely one that more people should see. Have you seen it?

      

And the MEME continues…this is actually easier than I anticipated…

Decade in Review, Revisited: The Screenplays

Screenplays are different from the actual films they precipitate. Quite often the screenplay ends up being my favourite of a film. It all begins with the screenplay really – here are the ones that I remember most clearly from the last decade.

Runners Up: (Alpha): Big Fish* – adapted (2003); Bright Star* – original (2009); Brokeback Mountain – adapted (2005); The Constant Gardener – adapted (2005); Corpse Bride* – original (2005); The Fantastic Mr. Fox – adapted (2009); In the Loop – adapted (2009); Little Miss Sunshine  – original (2006); Mean Girls* – adapted (2004); (2009); The Others* – original (2001)

       

#15: A History of Violence (2005), adaptation by Josh Olson

Richie Cusack: “So you like that farm life? Milking cows and shit?”
Tom Stall: “I don't have a farm.”
Richie Cusack: [chuckling] “No? Fogarty thought you lived on some kind of farm. Said you could smell pig. How that old fart would know what a pig smells like, I don't know, but that's what he said.”

Visceral is not a word I find myself using often, but it’s the one that comes to mind immediately when I think of A History of Violence. It approaches an issue – a character with two sensibilities – in a manner that’s unorthodox and also quite sanguine. Its aim is not to shock, at least not unwarrantedly. In approaching the concept with such smoothness Tom Stall becomes a symbol for any man.

     

#14: Chicago (2002), adaptation by Bill Condon

Billy: “When she returns, she gently wakes up Harry. Harry says, "What? I'm alone." She says, "Alone? You got two other women in bed with you ." So, get this. Harry says, Come on , doll . You gonna believe what you see or what I tell you?”

Marshall is not credited, though a significant amount of the idea emanates from him. Still, Condon does excellent here. He doesn’t get overwhelmed by Ebb and Kander’s standards and forget to make sure they’re resting on a dependable set of words. He raises the standard ensuring that the every scene exists as it should and the spoken scenes succeed as much as the musical ones.

        

#13: You Can Count on Me (2000), originated by Kenneth Lonergan

Terry: “Where are we going?”
Sammy: “To pick up Rudy.”
Terry: “What, do you not even want me to come visit now?”
Sammy: “Of course I want you to visit, you idiot! I've been looking forward to seeing you from the moment I got your letter, I told everyone in town that you were coming home, I cleaned the whole fucking house just so it would look nice for you! I had no idea you were just broke again! I wish you'd just send me an invoice!”

A bitingly realistic and poignant look at filial love, it’s easy to forget and just see the excellent work being done by Ruffalo and Linney. Longergan crafts his screenplay with a surprising lack of pretentiousness, and even when we might hope for something a little more “movie-like” she’s careful to ensure that her characters are acting in keeping with the world he’s created for them.

#12: Babel (2006), originated by Guillermo Arriaga

Yussef: “I killed the American, I was the only one who shot at you. They did nothing... nothing. Kill me, but save my brother, he did nothing... nothing. Save my brother... he did nothing. ”

It’s simple to ignore because of Crash, which it’s mistakenly seen as a derivative of. It does tend to get a little bit too heavy-handed when delving into its symbolism but I forgive a few of its occasional missteps because in the greater realm of things I do treasure its ultimate result. The balancing between the three narratives is handled gracefully; and the message though obvious is not less profound for it.

#11: Traffic (2000), adapted by Stephen Gaghan

Caroline: “On the good days, I feel like I get it, like it all makes sense. I can stay in the moment, I don't have to control everything in the future, and I believe everything is gonna work out fine. On the bad days I just want to grab the phone and start dialing numbers. I want to pull my hair and run through the streets screaming. But thanks to the people I've met in these rooms, like Margaret and Jim and Sarah, I'm pretty sure I'm gonna make it through today.” 

Another massive ensemble drama, Traffic depends significantly on its screenplay. It's riveting and it flies by, but it's also incredibly smart. Gaghan has an ear for dialogue, especially topical dialogue, and the script serves as an excellent appraisal of current affairs.

     

#10: Erin Brockovich (2000), originated by Susannah Grant

Erin: “I've been working, that is all I have been doing, what am I supposed to do check in with you every two seconds?” 
Brenda: “Yes, it's called accountability and...” 
Erin: “I'm not talking to you, bitch!”
Brenda: “Excuse me?” 
Erin: “Get out of my face!”

This is another one that’s often overlooked. Grant takes a concept that’s almost pedestrian – the hardworking heroine against the world – and creates a screenplay that’s uncluttered and not at all condescending. We forget at times that at the end of the day this film is ultimately a legal drama, because Grant is willing to touch on more than just a single issue in her script.

    

#9: An Education (2009), adaptation by Nick Hornby

Helen: We should go shopping together one day, if you want.
Jenny: That would be nice. But South Ken, C'est beaucoup trop cher pour moi.
[Pause]
Helen: Sorry?
Jenny: I just said...It was too expensive for me.
Helen: No you didn't. You said something completely different.

Hornby has the admirable ability to push a host of ideas into a particularly short screenplay. Moreover, though it ostensibly focuses on something as singular as a girl’s “coming-of-age” each character, regardless of their relative importance, speaks words that are completely their own.

#8: Match Point (2005), originated by Woody Allen

Chris: “The man who said "I'd rather be lucky than good" saw deeply into life. People are afraid to face how great a part of life is dependent on luck. It's scary to think so much is out of one's control. There are moments in a match when the ball hits the top of the net, and for a split second, it can either go forward or fall back. With a little luck, it goes forward, and you win. Or maybe it doesn't, and you lose.” 

On the surface it’s just Woody Allen’s perverse take on a classic tale, but underneath it’s a thoroughly original and almost subversive take on people in the world. It stings as much as it amuses and when you think it’s a trifle there’s always something deeper lurking below – if you’re willing to look closer.

      

#7: The Departed (2006), adaptation by William Monahan

Uncle Ed: “Are you trying to prove something to the family?”
Billy Costigan: “When you say "the family," who do mean exactly? You?”
Uncle Ed: “You always have to question everything, don't you?”
Billy Costigan: “Maybe it would have done you some good to have some *questions* from time to time, you know? Am I an asshole? Are my kids a mess? Is my wife a money-grubbing whore? I mean, those are questions, right? Have I ever been good to my dying sister or am I just now pretending to be?”

Monahan’s adaptation of the Asian drama is a beast of its own. Complete with little character idiosyncrasies that are all his Monahan’s piece is completely original – adaptation or not. The world he creates is probably fabricated but everything that occurs is rendered believable simply because of the sameness throughout the narrative.

#6: Burn After Reading* (2008), originated by Ethan and Joel Coen

Osbourne: “And you're my wife's lover?”
Ted: [shaking his head] “No.”
Osbourne: “Then what are you doing here? [pause] I know you. You're the guy from the gym.”
Ted: “I'm not here representing HardBodies.”
Osbourne: “Oh, yes. I know very well what you represent. [pause] You represent the idiocy of today. ”

This remains as one of the most inventive comedies of the decade, and the script is one of the decade’s best. The entire thing is permeated with a glorious amount of irreverence that doesn’t stop the harsh truths in the screenplay from being seen. It’s the very fact that it doesn’t take itself too seriously though, not caring to sentimentalise any of its characters.

#5: Atonement (2007), adaptation by Christopher Hampton

Robbie: “Dearest Cecilia, the story can resume. The one I had been planning on that evening walk. I can become again the man who once crossed the surrey park at dusk, in my best suit, swaggering on the promise of life. The man who, with the clarity of passion, made love to you in the library. The story can resume. I will return. Find you, love you, marry you and live without shame.”

Not as piercing as his work on Dangerous Liaisons, but done with the same amount of astonishing brevity. Like any such adaptation the script is littered with bits of symbolism here and there, and it must have been a task creating a screenplay from McEwan’s impressive novel. He doesn’t quake at the challenge, though, and the story works well on its own.

       

#4: The Hours (2003), adaptation by David Hare

Laura: “It would be wonderful to say you regretted it. It would be easy. But what does it mean? What does it mean to regret when you have no choice? It's what you can bear. There it is. No one's going to forgive me. It was death. I chose life.”

I’ve not read Cunningham’s novel, though I’ve read extensive biographies on Woolf and Mrs. Dalloway. The screenplay exists seamlessly; there are three women but it is one story. Oddly, it never becomes too “talky”, the dialogue is never obtrusive. Instead everything flows together in beautiful subtlety.

#3: Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead* (2007), originated by Kelly Masterson

Gina: “When are you going to grow up, Hank? We have a really good thing going, and you should just enjoy it. We have a really good time in bed. I don't ask for anything.”
Hank: “I love you. I want more.”
Gina: “So does Oliver Twist.” 

Masterson’s script is discordant, but that's the beauty of it. Such a tale could easily have become a message film, instea she turns it into a nuanced character study giving every character their pivotal moment – and ensuring that plot points that occur are readdressed. She refuses to conform to the norm creating a world that is completely hers.

     

#2: Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004), originated Charlie Kauffman with Michael Gondry

Joel: “I can't see anything that I don't like about you.”
Clementine: “But you will! But you will. You know, you will think of things. And I'll get bored with you and feel trapped because that's what happens with me.”
Joel: “Okay.”
Clementine: [pauses] “Okay. ”

It’s an obvious choice, but deservedly so. It is a work that’s strikingly original even though the issues are ones we know all too well. Ostensibly it seems to be science fiction, but that solitary plot point is just that, and the issues addressed are done so with some of the most perceptive and smart comedic writing.

#1: Gosford Park (2001), originated by Julian Fellowes with Robert Altman

Sylvia: “Where's that wretched Mabel.”
Aunt Constance: “Has anyone checked her outfit? She's probably in black velvet with a feather in her hair.”
Lavinia: “She's in the morning room looking perfectly normal. Don't be such a snob aunt Constance.”
Aunt Constance: “Me? I haven't a snobish bone in my body.”

So subtle and yet so intense, addressing serious issues and yet so hilarious it’s a choice that comes easily – almost too easily. The ensemble drama gives the writer much ground to cover, and Fellowes does it with aplomb. He travels upstairs, downstairs and back again – but never tries too hard. Character development is vivid, but sometimes subtle we need to look (and listen) carefully…and just when you think you can put it in a box, he’s waiting to add something to new. Perfect.

     

Twelve originals and thirteen adaptations make up my twenty favourite screenplays. The ones with asterisks (seven) were, unfortunately, ignored by the Academy.

     

Which screenplay from the last decade would you want to take credit for?

Performances of the Decade (Male)

Some actors are just easily forgotten. It matters not whether they land a leading role or a plum supporting part; it seems that they just end up being pushed to the sidelines. It becomes even more difficult when the film you’re starring in becomes forgotten too. I’ve long been a fan of this actor. He’s a favourite of mine actually, and this performance represents the pinnacle of that appreciation.

          

#3 Ethan Hawke in Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead (2007)

I’m not sure if Hank, or anyone in the film, is as morally corrupt as the narrative suggests. Sure, after some cajoling he agrees to rob his parents’ store with his brother, and sure he’s involved in an illicit affair with said brother’s wife, and yes he does make off with quite a large sum of money while his family is destroyed. Still, I’m never moved to indict him. Ethan has a sort of naïveté that when riddled with his adult whimsies only make him more pathetic. Because, like Hank is emotionally stunted. We see it as he lets his brother rules him, as he clings – almost manically to Tomei’s Gina and as he gives in to his desires as the film ends.

Marisa Tomei may be playing Philip Seymour Hoffman’s wife (and the two do play well off each other) but I really love the scenes she shares with Ethan Hawke. In a film that’s wrought with the dubious for a few moments I’m actually willing to believe that these two could have something special. The thing is, with Hawke’s Hank (yay for my alliterative tendencies) how sure can you be if it’s love, infatuation or need? As we see the final shot of him running off with the stolen cash I wonder if he’s going to find Gina…probably not. But Hank isn’t a bad guy. The film is morally corrupted, but the characters aren’t beyond redemption. As his ex-wife (an in form Amy Ryan) harangues him for the money he owes we never turn on Hank. He really does want to be a devoted father, he just lacks the means. It’s pathetic really as we watch the expression on his face as he realises he has to disappoint his daughter – for the umpteenth time.

Still, when it all comes down to it Ethan does his best work opposite Hoffman (lower down on my list). The first scene as the older Andy cajoles him into the robbery is memorable, even as we’re disgusted by Hanks’s weakness. But it’s not one we’re motivated to condemn, it’s sad really. It’s the same weakness he brings to his final scene – also opposite Hoffman. It’s a brilliant move from screenwriter Masterson and Lumet handles it well, never making it too ludicrous. Ethan has always been able to show fear in the most precise ways and the tension here is palpable. You almost here his sigh of relief as that (lucky) shot is fired. I don’t feel any remorse for Andy really, and as despicable as his getaway is – I don’t blame Hank. What will become of him? It’s anyone’s guess. Will he reunite with his father, help his daughter, move to the Islands? I’m not sure, but I do wonder because Ethan does an excellent job in making me care about this mouse of a man.

       

It’s easy to forget Ethan. Did you see Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead? Were you impressed with him?

Performances of the Decade (Male)

I liked the nineties more, even if I can’t remember them clearly (I was a babe) and even if I need to see more films from the period. Still, one thing about the aughts is seeing how many actors made their mark as inventible screen presences. Does anyone remember the guy who played Jude Law’s ally in Cold Mountain? I mean, he made my shortlist, but I don’t think anyone was expecting that guy to turn into one of the most important actors of the last half of the decade racking up three (almost) consecutive nominations – and a win, too. Personally, I think he’s brilliant. Yet, he was snubbed for his greatest contribution this decade – at least I think so.

        

#11 Philip Seymour Hoffman in Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead (2007)

Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead opens unceremoniously. Philip Seymour Hoffman and Marisa Tomei are having sex in what looks like the least romantic of styles. Lumet never was afraid to shock us and Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead is a close look at a family more pervasive than the usual family drama. It’s the kind of film where perspective is difficult to attain until we’ve stepped back and examined the entire film after the credits have rolled. Hoffman has always had the ability to unnerve the audience, his excellent Capote was a bit too suspicious and even though he made Father Flynn congenial enough the cards were already decided and there was no need to doubt his guilt. It’s this intimidating manner of his that he uses to full effect as Andy Hanson.

          

Andy is a tyrant in some ways and this is most perceptible in the brilliant scenes opposite Ethan Hawke. Hoffman has a way with flashy dialogue and from the most superficial of levels he thrives here. But, what makes him so invaluable to the screen is his ability to turn the tables. Forced to pin down one scene in particular to validate Hoffman’s inclusion on the list – I’d have to single out the tour-de-force battle against Albert Finney (playing his father). Someone said once it was like watching two wild animals go at it, and when it comes to the ferocity they’re not wrong. The similarities between Finney and Hoffman are not inadvertent and Hoffman’s breakdown is brilliantly executed. It’s unnerving, but in a different way. Notice how Maria Tomei is almost repulsed by the show of emotion in the car. Her Gina is notoriously weak and can’t handle this breakdown. I love how Hoffman responds in turn to her noncommittal reaction. Or how he goes to his drug supplier - so broken. But still not humane enough for us to feel anything other than discomfort.

Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead is – after all – a film about dealing with personal demons when life twists your life up. Hoffman’s confrontation with the conman at the end is brilliant like all else, it is in some ways more of a showcase for Hawke but even when he’s not the centre of the scene he never plays second fiddle. It’s a scarily brilliant turn and it’s a pity that such a well made film with all these great performances was ignored. Philip Seymour Hoffman has made some indelible contributions to cinema in the last decade and I only hope that he continues to be as prolific in this one. He’s not the typical leading man, and it’s strange when an actor hits their stride at his age. But he has the talent to pull it off.

           

Were you impressed by PSH in Lumet’s recent film? Or does another of his performances impress you?