Showing posts with label The Ghost Writer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label The Ghost Writer. Show all posts

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Encore Awards: Directing

It’s weird, I don’t think that 2010 has offered us a slew of that brilliant films (but more on that later) – but it’s only proof that good direction is not synonymous with great films. For me, seven directors ruled this year for me (the five nominees and the two finalists) – and it’s really something a head-scratcher narrowing the seven down to five. But, I must (wails) – here’s who I decided on.
           
(click on the photos for reviews)
       
THE NOMINEES
Lisa Cholodenko for The Kids Are All Right
Like all that wine Nic keeps ingesting, Cholodenko’s work in The Kids Are All Right gets better with time. Even though I’d admit that subtle would probably be the incorrect adjective to attribute to The Kids Are All Right Choledenko’s work is so good here because it’s not officious. Perhaps, because she co-writes it, she’s especially aware of the mood that the script calls for and she directs it in turn with sudden spurts that are not jarring as she establishes scene, character and setting with a style that’s current (though, not quite modernist) and always conscious of the viewer’s attention span, without being pandering.
                           
                                                                                        
David Fincher for The Social Network
There’s something dangerously close to posturing in the almost funereal which Fincher (and company) decide to ground The Social Network, but in all honesty I don’t mind it. It works – brilliantly too, I might add – because Fincher has always been adept at reconciling themes with directorial choices. Just like he was able to discern the appropriateness of the mock-epic style for Benjamin Button he manages a taut, hypersensitivity here that makes more and more sense as this gloomy (but not repulsive) tale unfolds. It’s all part of the wonderful irony (similarly evinced in the script) that this “social” network seems so insular.
                   
David Michôd for Animal Kingdom
Sometimes I wonder if what could be perceived as Michôd’s occasional apathy to the situations affecting his character is a detriment to the overall narrative, but like his protagonist J – an ostensible indifference is not proof of disinterest. It’s difficult to single out key moments and say, “X scene was well directed”, but that’s the way Michôd knows it should be. I’m not a fan of the word, but there's some organic in the way that it unfolds (ironic, considering the very unnatural bloodshed ensuing). More than even Choledenko, I’d say that Michôd is the director this year that seems to hold the best interest of his characters at heart – for better, for worse.

John Cameron Mitchell for Rabbit Hole 
Together with Lindsay-Abaire Mitchell succeeds in turning this story of stagnant grief into a thoroughly cinematic piece. He doesn’t smother us with the eccentricities to convey the cinematic nature but simply lets if flow as naturally as possible. One trap that directors working on stage to screen adaptations often fall into is the tendency is to over-cinematise their films, but Mitchell is shrewder. He doesn’t avoid the narrowness of the theatre but uses that same closeness to create a cinematic perspective of characters bound by their emotions.
                                            
               
                                        
Roman Polanski for The Ghost Writer
Well, turns out Polanski hasn’t lost it. I wasn’t an unabated fan of The Pianist, and I’m not even an unabated fan of The Ghost Writer but Polanski’s direction – though, not exactly vociferous – is impossible to ignore. He’s a master at thrill, that doesn’t sacrifice cleverness in its quest and The Ghost’s journey unfurls with that same interest in being thrilling, occasionally mocking but always conscious of the story and what’s to come. It’s a prime example of the sort of subtle direction, that’s still noticeable but stands up to more scrutiny on the second and third viewings.
                      
       
FINALISTS: I feel like a right heathen for leaving Alejandro Amenabar (Agora) Edgar Wright (Scott Pilgrim vs the World) off my top 5. They work on different genres, but there’s a singularity in what they achieve. Both find their fortes in managing to keep productions that are quite sprawling in check, and managing to make them strangely personal. Amenabar retracts the sprawling Alexandrian tale to something simple, but not slight and Wright ensures that Scott Pilgrim vs the World is consistently bombastic and larger than life but never out of control. Both men are credits to their trade.

SEMI-FINALISTS: it sort of comes off like I hate Darren Aronofsky and his work in Black Swan, I don’t. When I consider the issues I have with its script, though, Aronofsky’s direction becomes even more impressive. All the heights of the story, and the successes of Nina’s insular journey succeed because he’s so in touch with his characters; it’s the same way that Noah Baumbach (Greenberg) and Sofia Coppola (Somewhere) are in touch with their introspective, and vaguely misanthropic male characters. Baumbach must be more palpably prickly, and Coppola must be more reticent in establishing that languor – they’re both excellent in controlling their stories, though; I’m still a bit partial to his Elizabeth I but it’s clear (to me, at least) that Tom Hooper’s work in The King’s Speech is proof that he’s improved. Though the writing is an important part of the equation, the subtly surprising direcotiral choices from Hooper is one of the reasons The King’s Speech seems neither tedious or rote; Matt Reeves must be more deliberate in directing Let Me In, and he succeeds in creating the appropriate atmosphere for the drama that evokes a sad redolence that’s unexpected given the genre and the subject.

HONOURABLE MENTIONS: Martin Scorsese for Shutter Island; David Russell for The Fighter; Floria Sigismondi for The Runaways. They each have one thing in common, they each prevent occasionally humdrum screenplays from subverting their attempts to create good cinema, and ultimately that’s one of the strongest suits of a good director.
       
So, director of the year...? Who'd you choose?

Thursday, February 10, 2011

Encore Awards: Visual Categories; Part Two (Visual Effects, Cinematography, Editing)

The final round of technical nominations (part one)....here's what impressed me in 2010.
(click on photos for reviews)
      
VISUAL EFFECTS
THE NOMINEES
Black Swan
In some ways Aronofksy’s latest reminds me of Avatar, although I was more fond of Cameron’s piece they both are analogous in the fact that they depend on the visual elements and not so much their stories (which aren’t necessarily subpar, just not as key as the optical). Visually, Black Swan is a perfect amalgamation of all things visual and the effects here coalesce beautifully with the cinematography and editing. Sometimes Aronofsky gets the urge to go a bit too pulpy (not always serving the story), but overall it’s a visual triumph. 
         
          
Harry Potter & the Deathly Hallows
 
As dissatisfied as I was with some major elements of the latest instalment of Harry Potter, I was impressed with the visual work. Like Black Swan, the work here underscores the reality that best visual effects is not synonymous with most visual effects and though there are a number of holes to poke in the story, visually this instalment is as thrilling as any.
   
 

           
Inception


Visually, it avoids the most blatant of tricks you’d expect and oftentimes the visuals end up aiding the film where the story fails (the flashbacks scenes with Mal, for example – understated, but jarring). Obviously, the more obvious moments are fine – but the ability to tone down is what makes me most impressed with the work here.
        
        
        
Scott Pilgrim vs the World

I’d cry anarchy at the Academy’s ignoring of Scott Pilgrim vs the World in this category – but no members of the Academy are listening so I’ll refrain from indulging in yet another tirade, for the umpteenth time. Visuals are so essential to this story sometimes it seems as if the story is the visual or the visuals are the story – it’s all the same, really. It’s all impeccably interwoven, not subtle (it can’t afford to be) but fitting.
         


Shutter Island
It’s evidence again of the technical work here being brilliant. The story can be impossibly obviously at times so the visuals don’t overdo. The atmosphere created is palpable and thick, it really is the sort of “visual” film that defines cinema at its most visceral and the way it so seamlessly coalesces with the photography makes me even more impressed.

    


FINALISTS: Agora is so intent on merging all its technical achievements (photography ties in with art direction which is established in the visuals) – the scope of the city created is almost peerless and though it doesn’t use CGI to much effect that doesn’t mean it’s any less visual; Let Me In; Nanny McPhee & the Big Bang come off as synthetic and very “magicky” – but in the realm of all that’s fantastical you sort of get that that’s necessary
         
SEMI-FINALIST: the visuals in Alice in Wonderland are loud and they’re obvious, but sometimes they’re not always serving the story. I don’t really grudge its Oscar nomination, though. Because, as officious as it is on occasion (oftentimes) there’s a meticulousness to its creation that’s laudable.
     
CINEMATOGRAPHY
THE NOMINEES
Agora (Xavi Giménez)
 
The scene that comes to mind immediately, is of course the storming of the temple. It’s absolute chaos and it’s photographed so intimately, just as Davus’ Christian epiphany is framed well. True, it’s a get a bit too obvious when the camera rises to view the world from a distance and there’s just that tinge of beautifully shots for the sake of beautiful shots – but I’ll forgive those occasional extraneous bits.
   

Black Swan (Matthew Libatique)

Regardless of the missteps Aronofsky may make I cannot deny the adeptness of the photography. Sometimes you get the feeling that he’s showing off on us, but the fact that he always manages to serve the story prevents me from holding any sort of grudge. In the same way that Agora and its orchestrated stampedes demand astute photography, the dance sequences require the same and we are not robbed of that tenet.

         

The King’s Speech (Danny Cohen)
I’m still nonplussed as to why its Oscar citation here has caused such a ruckus since it’s still the first technical achievement that jumped out at me (score, costume and art direction included). It’s all part of the entire film’s manner of being paradoxically modern and traditional – simultaneously. The photography is an essential part of its entire philosophy and though sometimes it emerges as just a little too purposeful I’m wary of calling it a fault.
              
                       
              
Rabbit Hole (Frank G. DeMarco)
Like many contemporary films, the camerawork is largely ignored but framing is of exceptional importance here. The revelation of the accident, Howie’s seduction bolstered by Barry White, that beautiful ending – all those pay heavy dues to the cinematography which is always subtle, always understated and lets the screenplay do its job. Proof that obvious garishness is not always the key to good photography. 
                  
                        
            
          
Shutter Island (Dante Feretti)
A bit like an obvious choice, no? Lord knows why it’s been virtually ignored. Even if DiCaprio has been playing in this register for a while, and even if the story is a bit pulpy that opening shot defines it all and it gets better from there. Sure, it’s not as subtle as the sets but – well – that’s the point. And extra points for every scene with Michelle Williams, just beautiful to watch
         
            
            
           
FINALISTS: I don’t know how many times I have (or how many more times I will) call The Ghost Writer sleek, but goddamn the photography is brilliant; Never Let Me Go is photographed so lushly – it’s even more purposeful than The King’s Speech (sometimes annoyingly so) but it’s essential for Romanek’s attempts in condensing the storyline into such a short running time; in all my appreciation for it I won’t be disingenuous enough to call Somewhere a technical marvel but photography is essential in developing that beautiful listlessness of the rich and famous; The Social Network
         
SEMI-FINALISTS: Animal Kingdom; Harry Potter & the Deathly Hallows; True Grit; Ondine
  
FILM EDITING


THE NOMINEES
Animal Kingdom (Luke Doolan)
 
One of the things I noted in my review was just how seamless everything in Animal Kingdom. There’s a gentle irony about the camerawork here, it’s so flawless that you can’t help but applaud it but in its flawlessness there’s a fluidity that might be easy to ignore – which is a shame.
        
        
        
            

The Ghost Writer (Tariq Anwar)

The editing does seem a little lustrous – but everything about The Ghost Writer seems to evoke that feeling of a sophisticated sheen. Polanski loves depending on the technical aspects and it’s the editing that is his biggest calling card in keeping the tone in The Ghost Writer that makes it such a top-notch exercise in thrills.
          
          
               

The Kids Are All Right (Jeffrey Werner)
 
I can’t say I’m surprised this one has gone unnoticed, but even more than Cholodenko’s direction and screenplay the editing in this film is a fabulous example of camerawork enhancing a film. I don’t know if it’s alacrity in trade, or just pure luck but Werner knows just when to cut to what and how to do it. He manages to capture those precise expressions just before they sour – that scene where Nic at the final dinner at Paul’s? The sort of editing that’ll never be recognised by the awards, but screw them. 
                      

Rabbit Hole (Joe Klotz)
Because Rabbit Hole depends so much on the transference of emotion and because there are only ninety minutes to play with the editing is especially important. Its montages don’t unfold as obvious cinematic tricks, and like the film there’s an easiness to it all that is – unfortunately – easy to ignore. When you think of guiding the pace of the story, and of giving emphasis, though – Klotz’s work is palpably good. 
            
             
      

The Social Network (Angus Wall, Kirk Baxter)
It seems a bit ADD, just like its protagonist and that’s probably the point. The deposition scenes are such an obvious example of him getting a brilliant playing ground and he milks it for all it’s worth getting those precise shots, cuts that supplement Sorkin’s rapid screenplay. Sometimes his choices seem weird, but that’s because there’s SO much going on in this one, watch it multiple and you begin to realise just how seamless the scenes flow into each other.
           
       

FINALISTS: Agora; The King’s Speech; Let Me In; Scott Pilgrim vs the World

SEMI-FINALISTS: The Fighter; Somewhere
         
Photography, visuals, editing....what were your champions in 2010?

Wednesday, February 9, 2011

Encore Awards: Writing

And on to the writing accolades...

ORIGINAL SCREENPLAY
NOMINEES
Animal Kingdom (David Michôd)


This is sort of like an ideal movie in that it really does begin with the screenplay, even though the writing never becomes an overpowering crutch. In fact, like so many of the achievements of Animal Kingdom it might be easy to miss just how great the screenplay is – or essential. The memorable characters are not as much about the brilliant performances as they are about the cohesiveness of plot and development coming from Michôd.
          
                       
Greenberg (Noah Baumbach)


Each authorial decision Baumbach makes, here, serve as palpable evidence of his interest in ensuring that his story moves forward. This is a difficult story to work with without making it too terse or stark and his interest in character (not just the main ones, or even the ones we see) is a significant reason as to why Greenberg ends up being a success – and such a good opportunity for the actors.

           

The Kids Are All Right (Stuart Blumberg and Lisa Choledenko)


There’s an almost self-effacing easiness with which The Kids Are All Right unfolds, and the screenplay is an important part of that. Blumberg and Choledenko are both intent on keeping the narrative as uncluttered as possible, sometimes complex but never complicated and though it unfolds in simple spurts it’s never simplistic. When it comes to the scope of it all the screenplay is at the head.

         

The King’s Speech (David Seidler)


I praised Seidler’s decisions in my original review, and after a second viewing I’m still impressed. Like The Kids Are All Right there’s a simple nature to the way the story unfolds which is never simplistic. This is the type of film where the characters often talk too much – and for too long, but even though The King’s Speech depends on its screenplay it’s not dialogue driven. True, dialogue driven writing works for some but Seidler  realises that it won’t here and instead goes for a naturalness that’s impressive.

Somewhere (Sofia Coppola)


Coppola seems much more aware and comfortable with the characters she carving than I’ve ever seen her. It’s not exactly minimalist (although it is low-key) and there’s nary a false moment as she gives us an almost voyeuristic look into this man’s life. The chance that the editing and photography team get to work with those smooth transitions depends on the organic development of plot here – courtesy of Coppola’s screenplay.
  
FINALIST: I sort of hate leaving Agora off the list, and it is a historical drama – not history, and sure there’s something vaguely humorous about crediting Hypatia with so much – but ignoring historical inaccuracies (which are neither here nor there, to be honest) Amenabar’s ability to turn even the most abstract of scientific principles into potentially riveting plotpoints is damned impressive; though I cannot wholeheartedly surrender my love to Blue Valentine it’s screenplay is a treasure worthy of effusive praise, not only for its obvious gutsiness but for the consistency of development which could have been easily waylaid for theatrics; Hamilton’s writing in Night Catches Us in beautifully devoid of agenda or pretentiousness – she’s more interested in her characters than any of those which is why the film manages to be as consistent despite a few issues.
      
SEMI-FINALISTS: Easy A is not as fresh as some of its biggest champions might say, but it’s aware of that and finds comfort in its comedy ancestors; in its final instalment Toy Story III manages to retain its charm and comedy all the while ensuring it delivers on the emotional poignancy necessary for the departure; The Fighter owes its accolades more to the direction than the writing, but at its strongest moments the focus on family ties and relationships is stunning if exasperating in the fact that there’s an even more excellent movie hidden underneath the very good one we get.

ADAPTED SCREENPLAY

THE NOMINEES
The Ghost Writer (Roman Polanski and Robert Harris)


There’s sort of an irony as to Polanski’s writing and his direction – but he knows what he’s doing. He opts for a literal thriller-ish nature to his direction which means that the screenplay must be the opposite, and it is. It’s constantly subtly, and almost always unassuming despite its intelligence. That ends up being the quality that serves it best when it comes to that final dénouement where everything unravels so beautifully.

Let Me In (Matt Reeves)


On the most obvious it is not the screenplay that’s responsible for all the cool things going on in Let Me In, and yet what Reeves creates on the page is necessary. It’s probably one of the barer screenplays of the year as it is – ideally – a bit of paradigm for the film itself and in that light the meticulousness of the entire exercise is commendable. I wouldn’t necessarily agree that less is more, but it’s an asset here.



Rabbit Hole (David Lindsay-Abaire)


It’s seamlessly adapted from the play it emerges as, perhaps, the most significant facet of this already well made film. Nicholas mentions in his review how we’re eased into every important situation, and that’s something important which can’t be overstressed. He’s careful to maintain a realness to the situation while managing to ensure that everything that happens has some reaction that maintains the realism and takes the story forward.


Scott Pilgrim vs the World (Edgar Wright and Michael Bacall)
 
Scott Pilgrim vs the World has such a strident way to it so that it’s a bit difficult to single out a specific entity as its champion and in that light I’m unsure that I would champion its screenplay – and yet Wright’s adaptation is a significant as to why Scott Pilgrim manages to survive the journey from comic book to cinematic entity. It manages to be socially conscious without overemphasis on pop-culture fanaticism and it’s youthful without being pretentious. And, of course, it’s consistently hilarious – even when it succeeds with those singular moments of poignancy.
      
The Social Network (Aaron Sorkin)

His droll dialogue, incidentally, ends up becoming a detriment to the praise he deserves since he’s doing more here than just providing witty lines. He fools you into thinking that he’s doing something especially newfangled on his own, when he’s just using old paradigms to create something classic and fresh at the same time. He deserves credit for never making the deposition scenes come off as retrospective as they could have been and ensuring that they are the foundation of the screenplay without making becoming pretentious.

FINALIST: How to Train Your Dragon is a whole lot of fun, but more than its hilarity it deserves credit for constantly ignoring the easier tricks and hooks that come with the territory and deciding to keep the best interest of its story – and characters – at the heart of it.

SEMI-FINALISTS: Winter's Bone, True Grit
         
Which screenplays impressed you most this past year?

Tuesday, February 8, 2011

Encore Awards: Memorable Scenes (Part One)

I’ll soon get around to giving my nominees for best scene of the year – but it’s such a capricious task choosing the best in this category, so I had to make a list of also-rans that impressed me this past decade. Choosing favourite is a difficult thing, sometimes they don’t occur in your favourite movies and sometimes the weirdest moments in a film might impress me. It’s all really quite subjective, but before I get to the top ten finalists – here are fifteen great scenes that didn’t make it to the top of the list.
            
(I already compiled a list of best endings and best beginnings of 2010, so none of the scenes that appear here are from the bookends of their films. click on the links for reviews, where available)


THE SEMI-FINALISTS
Now that I think of it, it probably suggests inanity on my part to have Alice in Wonderland a list talking about best scenes and not have other much fêted films here. Nonetheless, my favourite scene in Burton’s latest is one that I’ve spoken of before. It’s notable for Helena Bonham Carter’s delicious macabre ways as she introduces Slade to her new protégé – Um. It’s a classic case of meaning being lost in translation, and for all its silliness it has a light funniness to it which other portions of the film could do with – and because Helena Bonham Carter is so brilliant, that makes this scene just a little bit more special.

My favourite moment for Natalie in Black Swan is that emotional phone call she makes to her mother early in the film, but it’s not the part of the film that stands out for me. As much as I was troubled by the potential nomination for Mila Kunis, Portman responds well to her in the film – even if incidentally. That moment where Nina begins to transform, as she returns home in fervour and her mother is so discomfited asking – “Where’s my sweet girl?”, and Nina responds, “She’s gone.” It seems to be a moment of Aronofsky doing too much, but it works. Hershey is Portman’s best scene partner, and for all of its obviousness that scenes work brilliantly.

Blue Valentine
 
The way that Blue Valentine is created it thrives on an undulating plot that’s not the typical rise and fall as we see one harrowing moment after another. In that way it’s difficult to single out actual scenes, but it’s hard not to be impressed by the confrontation that occurs when Dean visits Cindy at the hospital. It’s uncomfortable to watch these two people who’ve grown so far apart – both of them frustrated with their situations. And, Cianfrance never adjudges blame to either party so as they argue in that glass room we’re left watching the train wreck occur with empathy for both parties.

There are a number of moments in Easy A that hit just the right note, and I’m immediately moved to consider any scene where Stanley Tucci, Patricia Clarkson or Lisa Kudrow appear on screen. However, at the end of the day Easy A is about a star being born (i.e. Emma Stone) and it makes sense that the most lucid moment of comedy occurs because of her. That fateful party where she and her gay best friend get it on emerges as one of the funniest scenes of the year. Stone works wonderfully with Dan Byrd (so good in Cougar Town) and though the moment in itself is not refreshingly innovative it’s a perfect encapsulation of Easy A building itself on old comedic paradigms and achieving something good.

I think of The Fighter as the ensemble film that wasn’t. The ensemble work well together, but not as good as they could if they had more time to actually work together. So, that moment in the living room where we get all the important players – Alice, George, Micky, Dicky, the sisters – to discuss Micky’s future succeeds on so many levels. For me, Melissa Leo doesn’t exactly thrive in this register (though her “MTV Girl” line is funny). The scene is all Amy for me, but even more than anyone taking credit for being the best it’s brilliant watching them all play off each other – these are the scenes where Russell’s direction is most impressive.

 For Colored Girls tends to be so episodic at times I balk at the idea of choosing individual scenes to fête since everyone is trying hard. When it comes to delivery of the monologues, Loretta Devine with the striking musicality in her voice wins but the most arresting for me (including that harrowing death scene) occurs as the last act begins. Whoopi suffers a bit from a very stilted character, but I do think that her scenes with Thandie Newton (best in show) are brilliant and that moment where the two women meet to deliver their pieces – almost in counterpoint – is excellently done. Potently, theatrical and it’s the moment that best elucidates my belief that For Colored Girls is a musical film with lyrics and no melodies. The contrast between the two women is beautiful to watch, as is the scene itself.

I will continue to applaud Nolan’s vision in Inception even if I don’t really care for it, and on a technical level there a number of scenes to pick from. The thing is, even though Cotillard is playing Mal as memories of Cobb she’s still the one serving up the most significant emotional quotient, and that scene of hers as she loses control of the life she’s living – and ends it – remains as the strongest moment of the narrative. Emotional context is still not his strongpoint, but everything combines in that moment to make some beautiful and terrible to watch – and Marion Cotillard is remarkable, no?

I tend to be indecisive when considering if I perform Olivia Williams or Kim Cattrall in The Ghost Writer (the former is the only one being seriously, fêted). Still, even if I’m uncertain as to whom I prefer it’s difficult to deny the ability Williams has to hold ones attention. Every moment where she and McGregor take up the screen seem to be the film at its highest, but that specific conversation the two have by the fireplace. It seems so incidental, though Williams is carving her character long before we even know it’s necessary. And Polanski (beautifully lacking in any sort of pretentiousness directs it so subtly). It all adds to the greatness of The Ghost Writer.

Choledenko and Blumberg are never afraid to approach the obvious in their attempts to make The Kids Are All Right comedic and though the moment might seem banal I can’t resist that conversation where Jules and Nic confront Laser about his sexuality. There are a number of things I find significant about this scene – the most obvious of which is the fact that Moms are on completely different wavelengths to their children and of course Jules’ explanation of internal and external realisations of sexuality is a perfect setup for her liaison with Paul. And of course, everyone is acting so well. Julianne, so authentic in her laidback persona without ever being clichéd, Annette so ready to underscore her resentment for Clay and Hutcherson (this is probably his best scene) – confused and then affronted. I love his line reading of, “You thought I was gay?” And then the responses – “No! Of course not.” Hilarious.

It’s the oddest thing, The King’s Speech doesn’t seem like the type of film that’d improve on repeat viewings – but it is. There’s that specific scene when Lionel and Bertie end up having their inevitable spat and he turns up with the Queen in tow at Bertie’s house for an important lesson. There’s so much going on there that I appreciate. On the obvious of levels, it’s the perfect encapsulation of the relationship between the two men being the mainstay of the film and then there’s Bonham Carter’s perfectly played Queen who I end up gleaning so much from on repeat viewings. She’s no Constance Trentham when it comes to snobbery, but she’s never quite at ease in the colonial house and her meeting with Mrs. Logue is a perfect example of such, regardless of her inhibitions, though. She’s always the diplomat. It’s the sort of delicate humouring decorating (but not necessarily shrouding) more sensitive issues.

I’ll always bear just the slightest grudge against The King’s Speech for not having enough of Helena Bonham Carter in it, I still prefer the idea of his marriage to his friendship with Logue – but I digress. The mystery of that marriage, though, is never really addressed in the film. Seiberg, however, does a fine job of slipping a nice bit when Firth’s Bertie is at his lowest point. Helena has always struck me as the type of actor who works best when playing against someone else and her chemistry with Firth is palpable. The King’s Speech is so diverting in its lightness that the profundity of the title of King sort of sneaks up on you a bit so that when Bertie himself is faced with all the pressure it’s difficult not to be moved by him – and by the Queen’s coy way of deflecting it.

In its way Mother & Child is made up of very good moments, and very bad ones. Choosing one is a difficult, and Naomi’s elevator scene and Annette’s breakdown come to mind – but they all seem too slight for inclusion which makes me return to that first scene where Lucy and her husband meet the mother of their child to be. Epps seems unnecessarily harsh sometimes in her characterisation – but it’s a nice moment watching Washington’s Lucy deal with the dilemma of being interviewed for a child she wants so terribly. It’s one of the strongest points of her performance, and one of the film’s most eloquent.

 
Dividing Rabbit Hole into scenes is difficult because Lindsay-Abaire is going for an effortless transition from scene to scene. There are two Dianne Wiest scenes that emerge as brilliant – and the chemistry between her and Kidman is well done. The moment where she tells Becca about dealing with grief is beautifully done, but it’s the lighter moment where she tells her about her friend Mrs. Bailey that I always return to. Remember: Wiest is a notable comedienne – all her three Oscar nominations infer as much. It’s a monologue of sorts, and it’s her moment and it’s one of the ways that Rabbit Hole balances drama with humour so adeptly. The writing, Mitchell’s understated direction, Kidman’s reaction and Wiest’s perfect comedic timing all coalesce for a great moment.

I’ll admit, that for the first half of Scott Pilgrim vs the World my favourite parts are those with the ensemble – where Cera just blends in, but that first big party where we first meet Ramona succeeds because Cera is doing such good work here. Webber, Plaza, Pill all surround him but it’s Wright’s direction and that oafish charm of Cera that sells it – and that first meeting with Winstead – “Am I dreaming?” is a perfect example of the glorious ridiculousness of Scott Pilgrim vs the World.

With its root being the friendship ties between Eduardo and Mark that entire sequence where Zuckerberg’s lawyers uncover Eduardo’s “animal cruelty” is brilliantly played. It’s my favourite moment for Garfield, and it begins perfectly in the board room. Everyone is playing well – Rashida Jones is being her usual winsome self, and the actors playing the lawyers are on point and Fincher is shifting between periods so astutely all backed by Sorkin’s dialogue. And of course there’s that cinch where Eduardo reveals Mark cheating for his final exam, “Oops” – perfect.
            
I’ll return with my top ten favourite scenes some later in the week, but for now – which of these fifteen impress you most?

Monday, February 7, 2011

Encore Awards: Auspicious Cinema

I’ll get around to listing my official list of favourite films some time soon, but I was thinking recently – and for some months now – how treacherous the act of grading films can be at times. No, this is not that long-awaited article explaining my sometimes strange grades, but it’s something that occurred to me most notably when Nicholas (one of my writing idols) made this note on his website. Sometimes when I review a film that I don’t like, I’ll include an aside saying it’s a laudable effort. It’s not evidence of me being apologetic – sometimes films have importance beyond how good a film it is; and Nick’s words strike a chord when I look over the films that are my favourite– and the ones that aren’t.  Value, originality and risk is what he looks at and this list of films below  are those I consider to be propitious contributions to cinema. Not the films I remember most fondly (although, some turn up there) but the films that are important – those films that are worth your time, even if you don’t love them. (Come on; just check the dictionary to see what auspicious means.) If you will, this is the list of ten films that you shouldn’t have missed last year.
    
(click on the photos for reviews)

THE NOMINEES 
Agora (A-) Director: Alejandro Amenábar; originally written by Alejandro Amenábar and Mateo Gil, inspired by true events
Amenbar was interested in the idea of Hypatia, a feminist before her time – before feminists even. It’s more than plot that makes this a notable one, though. Amenbar and company recreate the world of the era through few special effects, but mostly from built-from-scratch production design. Perhaps I’m alone on this, but the persistent presence of objectivity in it is something to take note of. It’s not a sword and sandal epic of yore that has a specific agenda – sure it contorts historical facts to its advantages, but Agora is a bit like its heroine in being interested in examining all aspects of everything. And perhaps, that makes the transition from the first to the second half a bit splotchy – but it’s still laudable.

The Ghost Writer (B+) Director: Roman Polanski; adapted by Roman Polanski and Robert Harris from the novel The Ghost by Robert Harris
I feel a bit silly, because in my natural state of knowing nothing before I saw The Ghost Writer it wasn’t until the second attempt that I was able to glean the potential parallels between Tony Blair – and only after it was pointed out to me (I can be especially clueless about current affairs at times). Not that Polanski’s latest only has importance on that front only. What’s most noticeable about Polanski’s work here is how audacious his directing style still is. He’s still one of the most important cinematic entities alive, and he crafts a film about a man we have no idea about but keeps it finely tuned along with the excellent script. The Ghost Writer won’t top my list of favourite films, but the work put it into it marks it as the most prominent film of 2010 (including, but not relegated to its technical achievements).
             
Inception (B-/C+) Director: Chris Nolan; originally written by Christopher Nolan
I was not the biggest fan of Inception when it came out, and if anything my feelings have lessened but that doesn’t prevent me from admiring Nolan’s vision. No, my disliking Inception was not an example of me being deliberately subversive. Nolan is responsible for a significant portion of the actually story and he deserves credit for the scope of the film. I don’t think he succeeds as well as he might in the creation of completely lucid film, but Inception is the sort of achievement that’s important as a valid example of cinema moving forward – and getting more audacious. For that, I applaud him.
            
Scott Pilgrim vs the World (B+) Director: Edgar Wright; adapted by Edgar Wright and Mark Baccall from a graphic novel by Brian Lee O'Malley
There are a number of reasons that I’ve been miffed about the lukewarm reception Scott Pilgrim vs the World seems to have gotten this past year, and I’ll take solace in it becoming a potential cult classic. It’s not because I happen to like it, I might opine that this is probably the most significant comic to screen adaptation of the last decade. Strong words? Bear with me. Scott Pilgrim’s steadfast devotion to the things that define its generation (Nathan gives a thoughtful review on just that) AND its ability to satisfy the niche without making persons not in that niche audience balk is a significant asset that many films of the type don’t have. It seems as if it sets itself up for a box, but the overwhelming youthfulness of it all is not a crutch but one of its strong suits – one of many.
         
The Social Network (A) Director: David Fincher; adapted by Aaron Sorkin from the novel The Accidental Billionaires by Ben Mezrich and inspired by true events
To an extent I feel as if The Social Network is being celebrated for the wrong things. It doesn’t end up on my list because it reinvents the wheel, it’s here because Sorkin’s script wilily presents us with the most basic of human entities (friendship and jealousy) and Fincher, so astutely, takes up the mantle to helm the piece ensuring that it’s more than about Zuckerberg or facebook. I feel a bit lofty claiming that it’s some sort of social parable for civilisation today and to an extent it’s just a bit too serious for its own good. It’s possible that misrepresentation on this front has attracted claims of its misogynistic ways. In assessing The Social Network, though, it’s better to understand its importance through smaller lenses like human emotion than larger entities like internet addiction (not that human emotion is a “small” entity, but on a curve its less voluble – and more in tune with The Social Network’s inherently smaller – but  not necessarily lesser – standards).
             
FINALISTS: Fish Tank (C+) doesn’t thrill me half as much as it does most, but Arnold’s debut is still admirable. Narrative issues aside, she has a striking sense of interest in her protagonist that’s sorely lacking in many coming-of-age films. For Colored Girls (B-) is flawed, but it’s disingenuous not to note the superb attempts that Perry takes in adapting this VERY theatrical piece and trying to maintain that beating theatrical heart and reconciling it with the cinema. Howl (C+) is even more faulty than the former, and I sort of wish that Epstein would have had the guts to be a little less prosaic with how he paced the story – but, that aside, he does some original things with Ginsberg’s life and it makes me interested in seeing him tackling another biographical piece – he seems to have an unbridled enthusiasm for it. Night Catches Us (B/B-) is not a history lesson, and Hamilton is not interested in forwarding a cause shrouded in a pedestrian story. Sometimes she's too reticent for her own good, but the drama she creates is taut and gutsy and most importantly adeptly handled. And, Shutter Island (B) – this one is notable, in particular, for its technical achievements and Scorsese’s ability to utilise past genres while still managing to make the film his, despite that ending – which he can’t be blamed for.
          
SEMI-FINALISTS: The American; Blue Valentine; Greenberg; The Kids Are All Right
         
Do you get where I’m going here, or am I confusing? (Again, I say, read Nick’s post) Have you been in the same boat, a film worthy of your respect that you may not love? What’s the most IMPORTANT film of 2010 for you?

Friday, January 28, 2011

Encore Awards: Endings

I can't help but think of Countess de Mertieul when I think of great endings because Frears decision in Dangerous Liaisons is impeccable. What makes this anecdote more interesting is that my favourite ending from last year was ALSO in a Frears flick, and had to do with a face in the mirror too. Yup, Pfeiffer's chilling look into the mirror in Chéri sticks with me until the end. This year the endings have nothing to do with Frears, period pieces or aging women - but they're still brilliant. And even though films don't demand a great ending, sometimes they can turn a middling film into an excellent one with just a few minutes. Let's take a look at 2010.
           
Umm, spoilers ahead....obviously.

(Click on the pictures for reviews.)

THE NOMINEES
Agora directed by Alejandro Amenábar with Rachel Weisz, Max Minghella, Oscar Isaac, Rupert Evans, Michael Lonsdale
I’ll admit, Agora is on the nose and Amenbar exploits the (alleged) brilliance of Hypatia – but all that’s important so that her death has that effect on you it must. Max Minghella’s talent is still in development through Agora but he’s best opposite Wiesz and the two manage to sell that moment where he strangles her to save her from being stoned alive. True, in reality her death was more harsh and less romanticised, but it’s a nice moment of humanity and sure that final cut to the earth from a far is a little extraneous, Amenbar has made his point.
              
Animal Kingdom directed by David Michôd with James Frecheville, Sullivan Stapelton, Ben Mendehlson, Jacki Weaver, Joel Edgerton
I’m hoping, against hope, that James Frecheville has a long career ahead of him. He plays J with just the right amount of detachment and that moment where he turns his gun on Pope is both surprising but logical. And that final shot of him hugging Weaver is beautiful. I still can’t agree that her Grandma Smurf is a relentless villain – she’s just especially devoted to her children, and it’s important that our final shot of her is one of her at her weakest.
             
The Ghost Writer directed by Roman Polanski with Ewan McGregor, Pierce Brosnan, Kim Cattrall, Olivia Williams, Tom Wilkinson
That entire final sequence of The Ghost Writer as we finally realise that Williams’ suave wife was behind everything is brilliantly played out, but that final moment as our ghost gets knocked down (off-screen) still takes the cake as the most surprising, riveting, exasperating and brilliant closing of the year. You can just imagine Polanski grinning at the audience there, and as vexing as it is its excellence is indisputable.
          
Rabbit Hole directed by James Cameron Mitchell with Nicole Kidman, Aaron Eckhart, Dianne Wiest, Miles Teller, Tammy Blanchard
You keep wondering, how Lindsay-Abaire is going to close this piece with turning it into something overwrought and the decision he makes is perfect. Having Becca and Howie look to the future – scarred, but hopeful, sounds a bit too trite but together with Mitchell’s direction (and the beautiful chemistry between Eckhart and Kidman) it works. The peaceable scene of them sitting down there, ready for the future is just one of the most profound moments of 2010.
          
The Social Network directed by David Fincher with Jesse Eisenberg, Andrew Garfield, Justin Timberlake, Armie Hammer, Rashida Jones
There is something obvious and glib even about having Mark spending his life hung up on a one girl, but I like this closing nonetheless. A) because it begins with Rashida Jones being all amazing as is her wont and because Eisenberg sells the confusion of Mark, and the irony – as obvious as it is – that he’s there waiting for a friend request to be accepted is just too good to ignore.

FINALISTS: Black Swan doesn’t plays any games about where it’s heading – even if we’re not willing to actually believe it until we see it. That latter portion is Natalie’s strongest sequence and it should be because it’s essential that sells those final moments – and she does, but more importantly so does Nina; it’s at the end of The Runaways where Fanning impresses me most and it’s a beautiful moment for the entire film, we’ve already got the feeling of a career cut-short but not unfortunately so and the serenity with which Cherry accepts her fate is impressive but not as impressive as the poise with which Fanning delivers that final bit;
            
SEMI-FINALISTS: Blue Valentine is harrowing, especially in the latter half but Derek Cianfrance pulls back for a few moments to give us a closing scene that’s just as profound in its depressing nature but very serene – and of course Gosling NAILS it; Hooper’s direction comes out best in the bookends of the The King’s Speech and it’s nice that he ends it on a note that you wouldn’t think of. He doesn’t go where you’d expect with the story but ends it at a moment that’s perfect in its sedateness; you sort of get where Veronika Decides to Die is going but can you blame me for being manipulated by its decisions. Sarah Michelle Gellar and Jonathan Tucker are perfect together and that emotional closing ends up being the perfect release to all that tension. 
          
Which ending left you thinking long after the credits rolled in 2010?
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