In this day and age, it seems unlikely that a haunted house movie would be the scariest to come along in years. But here we are with THE ORPHANAGE, a not-so-ordinary ghost story that draws upon the horror classics of yesteryear; the frights come from what we cannot see but know is there. Director J.A. Bayona and screenwriter Sergio G. Sanchez (under the guidance of producer Guillermo del Toro) have crafted a modern masterpiece of less-is-more. Yet in many ways, the film’s greatest strengths lie not in its sequences of harrowing suspense but its dramatic aspirations.
Laura (Belen Rueda) is an orphan who’s returned to her former home to open a school for special needs children. Living with her in the large, creaky and maze-like former school is her husband and adopted son Simon who suffers from a debilitating illness, a secret kept even from him by his parents. Simon has always had imaginary friends, but Laura becomes increasingly unsettled when he meets six new invisible friends while scouting a nearby cave. Then things take a turn for the worse: a strange woman enters the house, claiming to be a social worker. Laura later finds her hiding in a storage shed. A game that Simon’s friends lead him into reveals that he knows more about his past than he lets on. And during a welcome party for the new children, a figure wearing a sack mask violently forces Laura into the bathroom and locks her in. When she is released, Simon is gone. Months pass without a clue to his disappearance, and Laura begins to suspect that Simon’s new friends may not be imaginary after all.
The film strives on techniques that have been around for ages. Creaking floors, thumping footsteps, doors closing by themselves, flickering lights, etc. The story is definitely old fashioned and the filmmakers do not stray from that mood. Still, the mounting suspense that builds to an almost unbearable level makes the film more effective than trying to gross-out its audience with excessive gore. There are jump scares and a particularly disturbing and graphic scene, but the film is incredibly restrained. When the final stages are entered and Laura is isolated in the large house, the tension reaches dizzying heights. Expectations skyrocket and for once, the viewer is not shortchanged. There are no cheap tricks, no glaringly obvious plot holes to keep us from getting the ending before it arrives. Bayona’s strengths clearly lie with creating this kind of heavy mood, thanks to excellent sound design and editing.
But what is most surprising about THE ORPHANAGE is its sense of drama. It is every bit as much a drama as a horror. Most horror films are content will developing their characters just enough to get the viewers to care, but Belen Rueda’s performance will tear hearts out. Her desperation and panic as time passes is devastating; her devotion to her missing son truly touching. The climax of the film is not effective because of its suspense (though it is terrifying), but because of Rueda. It may be the only film that will have people screaming in fear while tears gather.
THE ORPHANAGE takes horror conventions we all know; conventions that seem unlikely to be effective today. But the film proves just how frightening darkness can be, and how we still can be scared of things we cannot see. We must often rely on what the characters say they see, forcing us to listen to the terror of what is going on around them. It’s a simple story effectively done. This is a film for people who want to really be scared at the movie. Not just grossed out.
****/****
Thursday, November 29, 2007
Monday, November 26, 2007
August Rush
One would imagine that the depressing-when-you-think-about-it world of Dickensian literature would be even direr and saddening when transported to the here and now. Yet AUGUST RUSH completely rejects that notion. A music-driven update of OLIVER TWIST without most of the strife and with extra heart to spare, the film is nonsensical but charming and touching to those willing to go with it. The titular character says, “I believe in music the way some people believe in fairy tales”, which aptly describes the entire film in itself. A fairy tale about the power of love through music.
Evan Taylor (the seemingly unaging Freddie Highmore) is an orphan believes that his parents are still alive and looking for him. But he doesn’t cling to a hope, he knows for sure; he can hear them in the music that surrounds him. Realizing that he’ll have to move into the outside world so his parents can hear him, he runs away from his small-town orphanage and into the crazed midst of New York City. As the beginnings of Evan’s story are told, we are given the story of his birth; a one-night romance between an Irish rocker (Jonathan Rhys Meyers) and a classical cellist (Keri Russell), whose connection is inspired by a harmonica/guitar rendition of Van Morrison’s “Moondance”. In the present day, Evan’s mother, believing her son dead, lives a meager existence. When the truth is revealed to her, she begins a frantic search to find him. His father is also on the search, desperately trying to track down the source of his inspiration. All the while, Evan’s astounding musical talents are being cultivated by his very own Fagin, a cowboy named Wizard (Robin Williams), who gives him the stage name “August Rush” and sets him on his way to fame.
The story owes more to OLIVER TWIST than mere inspiration; it’s practically a remake. Yet none of Dickens’ urgency is present, and though August faces problem after problem, there’s never a doubt in our minds that all will turn out well. August is actually pretty lucky for an orphan living alone in New York City. Not only does he find a homeless guardian who is not a pedophile, even though he has a horde of young children in his care, his extraordinary gift seems to instantly dispel any punishment coming his way. Near the finale, when the film attempts to create a villain, it suffers. Sure, August is sad, but everything is going to be all right. This, along with most of the film, will be eye-rollingly nonsensical and irritating to some, but the film has a few key elements that manage to retain the viewer’s attention.
Chief among them are the performances of Highmore and Russell. Ever since 2004’s FINDING NEVERLAND, Highmore has proven to be today’s premier child actor. His wide blue eyes practically dare people not to care. And with all the eyes-to-the-skies looks of hope that he and the other characters give in nearly every scene, it’s difficult not to be affected. As for Russell, although she’s been in the public eye for nearly ten years, 2007 will be remembered as her breakout year. Along with her performance in WAITRESS, she is quickly proving to be a great dramatic actress. Her clear, open face gives her an instant likeability reminiscent of Audrey Hepburn. The film’s giant plot holes (there are many) don’t seem so obvious we see Russell’s heart breaking over his missing son.
As it is expected in a film so tightly driven by music, Mark Mancina’s score is a focus in most of the film. He acquits himself well, blending the sounds of everyday living cleverly into the score. The centerpiece of his writing is the focus of the film’s finale, and thanks to Mancina’s sweeping and inspirational music, becomes genuinely affecting. Yes, it may even produce tears.
The key to enjoying this film is to suspend your disbelief and completely abandon common sense. The film is designed as a fairy tale, and though the fantastical elements are extremely muted, it should be treated as such. Director Kirsten Sheridan fills the screen with pretty images that, though overwrought at times, serve to heighten the light nature of the story. AUGUST RUSH is not a life changing experience, but it’s a charming little diversion that once again proves how much power love and music can have.
***/****
Evan Taylor (the seemingly unaging Freddie Highmore) is an orphan believes that his parents are still alive and looking for him. But he doesn’t cling to a hope, he knows for sure; he can hear them in the music that surrounds him. Realizing that he’ll have to move into the outside world so his parents can hear him, he runs away from his small-town orphanage and into the crazed midst of New York City. As the beginnings of Evan’s story are told, we are given the story of his birth; a one-night romance between an Irish rocker (Jonathan Rhys Meyers) and a classical cellist (Keri Russell), whose connection is inspired by a harmonica/guitar rendition of Van Morrison’s “Moondance”. In the present day, Evan’s mother, believing her son dead, lives a meager existence. When the truth is revealed to her, she begins a frantic search to find him. His father is also on the search, desperately trying to track down the source of his inspiration. All the while, Evan’s astounding musical talents are being cultivated by his very own Fagin, a cowboy named Wizard (Robin Williams), who gives him the stage name “August Rush” and sets him on his way to fame.
The story owes more to OLIVER TWIST than mere inspiration; it’s practically a remake. Yet none of Dickens’ urgency is present, and though August faces problem after problem, there’s never a doubt in our minds that all will turn out well. August is actually pretty lucky for an orphan living alone in New York City. Not only does he find a homeless guardian who is not a pedophile, even though he has a horde of young children in his care, his extraordinary gift seems to instantly dispel any punishment coming his way. Near the finale, when the film attempts to create a villain, it suffers. Sure, August is sad, but everything is going to be all right. This, along with most of the film, will be eye-rollingly nonsensical and irritating to some, but the film has a few key elements that manage to retain the viewer’s attention.
Chief among them are the performances of Highmore and Russell. Ever since 2004’s FINDING NEVERLAND, Highmore has proven to be today’s premier child actor. His wide blue eyes practically dare people not to care. And with all the eyes-to-the-skies looks of hope that he and the other characters give in nearly every scene, it’s difficult not to be affected. As for Russell, although she’s been in the public eye for nearly ten years, 2007 will be remembered as her breakout year. Along with her performance in WAITRESS, she is quickly proving to be a great dramatic actress. Her clear, open face gives her an instant likeability reminiscent of Audrey Hepburn. The film’s giant plot holes (there are many) don’t seem so obvious we see Russell’s heart breaking over his missing son.
As it is expected in a film so tightly driven by music, Mark Mancina’s score is a focus in most of the film. He acquits himself well, blending the sounds of everyday living cleverly into the score. The centerpiece of his writing is the focus of the film’s finale, and thanks to Mancina’s sweeping and inspirational music, becomes genuinely affecting. Yes, it may even produce tears.
The key to enjoying this film is to suspend your disbelief and completely abandon common sense. The film is designed as a fairy tale, and though the fantastical elements are extremely muted, it should be treated as such. Director Kirsten Sheridan fills the screen with pretty images that, though overwrought at times, serve to heighten the light nature of the story. AUGUST RUSH is not a life changing experience, but it’s a charming little diversion that once again proves how much power love and music can have.
***/****
Sunday, November 25, 2007
The Mist
THE MIST has been one of those Stephen King works that continually elude adaptations over the years. Well, it’s finally arrived in a theatre near you, courtesy of accomplished King adapter Frank Darabont (THE SHAWSHANK REDEMPTION and THE GREEN MILE). Since Darabont’s reputation with King’s work has been so praised, it’s only natural to assume that THE MIST is one of the better Stephen King films, right? Well, yes. But it’s still not a good movie. The clichés of the story are pulled off well, but when Darabont deviates from what King has created, most notably in the film’s finale, it becomes hokey, heavy-handed and nearly unbearable.
The plot is one that’s been told many times before. After a terrible storm, residents of a small Maine town descend upon the local supermarket to stock up on supplies. Little do they know that a dense and impenetrable mist is moving in on them. Before they know it, the store is surrounded by the mist and the people inside are all but stranded. Then the real trouble begins. A panicked man races into the store, screaming about something in the mist. A lowly bag boy (of course he’s the first victim) is pulled away by a creature with lots of tentacles. And as the survivors begin to realize exactly what surrounds them, the monsters inside the store begin to show their faces.
It’s all very typical horror movie conventions, especially the ones King has helped to create. There are echoes here of many of his other works, most notably STORM OF THE CENTURY. But for quite some time, the viewer goes along with it; it is a horror movie after all. These sorts of things are to be expected. But as the film goes on, these characters prescribe more and more to typical stupid people behavior that instantly spells doom. Instead of running away from the creatures, they stand and stare in terror for far too long. When a character makes a revelation that some creatures are attracted to light, what happens? A panicked person turns on all the lights. And let’s not forget the completely implausible explanations that do not mesh with the film at all. Yet when the film tries to depart from horror movie conventions, it takes an even worse turn. The film’s finale, drastically different from its source, is a risky undertaking. And one that proves completely pointless. Not only is it eye-rollingly, head-slappingly obvious, leaving the viewers thinking, “Well, it sucks to be you”, it is acted and designed in such an overtly melodramatic, heavy-handed way (with the most irritating use of movie music this year) that any latecomers will think the Sci-Fi channel has merged with the Lifetime network.
Darabont directs most of the movie with his typical sleek style, yet at times he feels the need to shake things up and bring the film into a 24-like setting. The graceful camera movements and slow changes of focus are shattered by quick zooms on characters and the occasional handheld shot. While the latter approach may have been effective if he wanted to create a documentary-like film, it really feels out of place when most of it is shot in typical Hollywood style. Not to mention that the rather spotty special effects (especially in the first attack) make the handheld shots seem even more off. He tries desperately to create a movie that’s above the typical horror on all levels, but he certainly isn’t being helped by much of the cast. While Marcia Gay Harden (as a half-crazed religious zealot) hams it up and makes a memorable villain, Thomas Jane (as the manly, heroic movie poster painter) falls short. Sure, he’s a strong figure and completely cut out for leading people, but when he is required to do dramatic scenes, he comes off as fake and unconvincing. He cannot hold a look of genuine despair for longer than five seconds, always cutting in with a blank look that strongly resembles boredom.
Darabont has taken what could have been an enjoyable, if predictable, horror movie and turned it into a beleagured, overlong and melodramatic trudge. Most of these faults lie with the new ending, which is much less effective and thought-provoking than the story’s original. While THE MIST is better than the lame efforts most of King’s work receives on screen, it is still far from a good movie. Sometimes we just want to be scared, you know? Just scared from what’s happening in a movie, not scared by how what’s happening in a movie relates to the real world. Many directors understand this, at the very least. Not Frank Darabont, it would seem.
*1/2/****
The plot is one that’s been told many times before. After a terrible storm, residents of a small Maine town descend upon the local supermarket to stock up on supplies. Little do they know that a dense and impenetrable mist is moving in on them. Before they know it, the store is surrounded by the mist and the people inside are all but stranded. Then the real trouble begins. A panicked man races into the store, screaming about something in the mist. A lowly bag boy (of course he’s the first victim) is pulled away by a creature with lots of tentacles. And as the survivors begin to realize exactly what surrounds them, the monsters inside the store begin to show their faces.
It’s all very typical horror movie conventions, especially the ones King has helped to create. There are echoes here of many of his other works, most notably STORM OF THE CENTURY. But for quite some time, the viewer goes along with it; it is a horror movie after all. These sorts of things are to be expected. But as the film goes on, these characters prescribe more and more to typical stupid people behavior that instantly spells doom. Instead of running away from the creatures, they stand and stare in terror for far too long. When a character makes a revelation that some creatures are attracted to light, what happens? A panicked person turns on all the lights. And let’s not forget the completely implausible explanations that do not mesh with the film at all. Yet when the film tries to depart from horror movie conventions, it takes an even worse turn. The film’s finale, drastically different from its source, is a risky undertaking. And one that proves completely pointless. Not only is it eye-rollingly, head-slappingly obvious, leaving the viewers thinking, “Well, it sucks to be you”, it is acted and designed in such an overtly melodramatic, heavy-handed way (with the most irritating use of movie music this year) that any latecomers will think the Sci-Fi channel has merged with the Lifetime network.
Darabont directs most of the movie with his typical sleek style, yet at times he feels the need to shake things up and bring the film into a 24-like setting. The graceful camera movements and slow changes of focus are shattered by quick zooms on characters and the occasional handheld shot. While the latter approach may have been effective if he wanted to create a documentary-like film, it really feels out of place when most of it is shot in typical Hollywood style. Not to mention that the rather spotty special effects (especially in the first attack) make the handheld shots seem even more off. He tries desperately to create a movie that’s above the typical horror on all levels, but he certainly isn’t being helped by much of the cast. While Marcia Gay Harden (as a half-crazed religious zealot) hams it up and makes a memorable villain, Thomas Jane (as the manly, heroic movie poster painter) falls short. Sure, he’s a strong figure and completely cut out for leading people, but when he is required to do dramatic scenes, he comes off as fake and unconvincing. He cannot hold a look of genuine despair for longer than five seconds, always cutting in with a blank look that strongly resembles boredom.
Darabont has taken what could have been an enjoyable, if predictable, horror movie and turned it into a beleagured, overlong and melodramatic trudge. Most of these faults lie with the new ending, which is much less effective and thought-provoking than the story’s original. While THE MIST is better than the lame efforts most of King’s work receives on screen, it is still far from a good movie. Sometimes we just want to be scared, you know? Just scared from what’s happening in a movie, not scared by how what’s happening in a movie relates to the real world. Many directors understand this, at the very least. Not Frank Darabont, it would seem.
*1/2/****
Friday, November 23, 2007
Margot at the Wedding
There are a great many people who will look at the title MARGOT AT THE WEDDING and wonder if that’s a reference to French New Wave director Eric Rohmer. And the title is not the only reference. Writer/director Noah Baumbach’s newest film is tightly tied to the ideals of the French New Wave, from the look and feel of the film to the portrayal of its characters. This dedication to a more “realistic” sense of filmmaking is likely to turn off some while intrigue others. And while it may not be a complete success, MARGOT AT THE WEDDING has many things to admire.
Neurotic and destructive Margot (Nicole Kidman), a short story writer who draws heavily from real life, is about to end a years-long silence with her sister Pauline (Jennifer Jason Leigh) when she travels to her childhood home for a wedding. The sisters have an unconventional relationship to say the least. They joke one minute, shout at each other the next. And throughout this, several things become clear, the clearest being that Margot doesn’t like Pauline’s fiancé, an unemployed painter/musician (Jack Black). None of these people are particularly likable, and their neuroses and suspicions against each other keep building and building, inevitably leading to a complete breakdown.
There is one thing that’s sure about this film; the characters are not meant to be liked. Baumbach goes out of his way to make sure the audience detests nearly every character in the film. Margot is selfish and off-putting. The only way she can booster her own self-esteem is by knocking down others; she laughingly comments that her sister cannot make eye contact with others, that her son smells bad and is growing stupid, and in more than one case accuses a potential attacker of being retarded. Pauline and Malcolm (the fiancé) don’t fare much better either; each of them are severely complicated individuals whose flaws seem to inflate in Margot’s presence. They discuss nearly every topic with irritating nonchalance, freely admitting to their children that they’ve been abused by their parents or babysitters. Whenever one of these characters finally breaks down and reaches out for help, it is far from sympathetic. It is pathetic. Yet many will argue that this is undeniably “real”; these are how real people are, and this is how real people react. They argue, they are selfish and their revelations are often pitiful to watch. Oh, and every adult is a victim of child abuse. That’s real.
These difficult characters, however, have lead to some extraordinary performances, particularly from Kidman and Leigh. Baumbach has successfully tapped into Kidman’s natural frigidity, which so often hampers her other performances. Kidman herself is completely committed to the part; her Margot is tightly wound, always wavering between laughter and tears. Thanks to Kidman, Margot’s incessant putdowns come off a clear warning signs of a breakdown about to occur, not needless bickering. It’s one of the braver, subtler performances of her career, unfortunately likely to be ignored, as her more subtle work often is. Leigh is compelling as well; Pauline desperately seeks approval from Margot while carelessly rejected it, whatever small doses she gets. She is just as tightly wound as Margot, yet fully conscious of her and her sister’s faults and the effects it has on those around them. Leigh plays Pauline as the reluctant voice of reason, a feat that is subtle and astonishing in itself. Even Jack Black acquits himself nicely, managing to hone in the broadness for a different kind of comedy; one where we laugh at the characters, not with them.
There are a lot of problems within MARGOT AT THE WEDDING, and most of them are intentional. If the viewer is willing to accept that these people are fatally flawed and will never change, they will be the better for it. This is a film about people who are so set in their ways that they’re beyond saving in many ways. Whether this makes it real or not is up to the viewer. One has to wonder exactly how Baumbach intends this film to be taken. Like many works of the French New Wave, its effect will be different for everyone who views it. For some, it will be insightful and artistic. For others, a lot of intellectual mumbo-jumbo that doesn’t go anywhere.
***/****
Neurotic and destructive Margot (Nicole Kidman), a short story writer who draws heavily from real life, is about to end a years-long silence with her sister Pauline (Jennifer Jason Leigh) when she travels to her childhood home for a wedding. The sisters have an unconventional relationship to say the least. They joke one minute, shout at each other the next. And throughout this, several things become clear, the clearest being that Margot doesn’t like Pauline’s fiancé, an unemployed painter/musician (Jack Black). None of these people are particularly likable, and their neuroses and suspicions against each other keep building and building, inevitably leading to a complete breakdown.
There is one thing that’s sure about this film; the characters are not meant to be liked. Baumbach goes out of his way to make sure the audience detests nearly every character in the film. Margot is selfish and off-putting. The only way she can booster her own self-esteem is by knocking down others; she laughingly comments that her sister cannot make eye contact with others, that her son smells bad and is growing stupid, and in more than one case accuses a potential attacker of being retarded. Pauline and Malcolm (the fiancé) don’t fare much better either; each of them are severely complicated individuals whose flaws seem to inflate in Margot’s presence. They discuss nearly every topic with irritating nonchalance, freely admitting to their children that they’ve been abused by their parents or babysitters. Whenever one of these characters finally breaks down and reaches out for help, it is far from sympathetic. It is pathetic. Yet many will argue that this is undeniably “real”; these are how real people are, and this is how real people react. They argue, they are selfish and their revelations are often pitiful to watch. Oh, and every adult is a victim of child abuse. That’s real.
These difficult characters, however, have lead to some extraordinary performances, particularly from Kidman and Leigh. Baumbach has successfully tapped into Kidman’s natural frigidity, which so often hampers her other performances. Kidman herself is completely committed to the part; her Margot is tightly wound, always wavering between laughter and tears. Thanks to Kidman, Margot’s incessant putdowns come off a clear warning signs of a breakdown about to occur, not needless bickering. It’s one of the braver, subtler performances of her career, unfortunately likely to be ignored, as her more subtle work often is. Leigh is compelling as well; Pauline desperately seeks approval from Margot while carelessly rejected it, whatever small doses she gets. She is just as tightly wound as Margot, yet fully conscious of her and her sister’s faults and the effects it has on those around them. Leigh plays Pauline as the reluctant voice of reason, a feat that is subtle and astonishing in itself. Even Jack Black acquits himself nicely, managing to hone in the broadness for a different kind of comedy; one where we laugh at the characters, not with them.
There are a lot of problems within MARGOT AT THE WEDDING, and most of them are intentional. If the viewer is willing to accept that these people are fatally flawed and will never change, they will be the better for it. This is a film about people who are so set in their ways that they’re beyond saving in many ways. Whether this makes it real or not is up to the viewer. One has to wonder exactly how Baumbach intends this film to be taken. Like many works of the French New Wave, its effect will be different for everyone who views it. For some, it will be insightful and artistic. For others, a lot of intellectual mumbo-jumbo that doesn’t go anywhere.
***/****
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Enchanted
Taking a page from SHREK and alternately signaling its return to the days of classic Disney, ENCHANTED is a charming spoof of the fairy tale conventions we all know and an introduction to Disney’s newest beloved princess. Thanks to a pitch-perfect performance from Amy Adams, the film manages to make good on the old “fish out of water” ploy and remain fresh and exciting throughout.
Starting off in traditional cel animation (the studio’s first attempt since 2004), ENCHANTED starts off with the classic fairy tale romance between Giselle and Prince Edward, who meet and fall in love through the power of song. But wherever true love is found, evil cannot be far away. This arises in the form of Narissa, Edward’s stepmother who is afraid of letting her kingdom slip into another’s hands. She banishes Giselle to the place where happy endings never come true: modern day New York. The film switches into live action (and a wider format) and we again meet Giselle (Adams), lost and confused in the unfriendly real world. She is saved by Robert (Patrick Dempsey), a divorce lawyer with a rather downtrodden view on life. Their mismatched personalities spar at first, but soon Giselle teaches Robert and his young daughter about the joy of true love and all that stuff in the fairy tales.
The film is chock full of references to past Disney animated films. Giselle herself is an amalgam of Snow White, Belle and Ariel (if only because of Adam’s long red hair). The evil queen (hammily rendered in live action by Susan Sarandon) is a dead ringer for Snow White’s stepmother; she even dresses as a hag and offers poisoned apples. Some of the film’s charm lies in finding the visual cues to past films (such as Giselle reflected in bubbles a la CINDERELLA), but when the plot seems so focused on the throwbacks, especially SNOW WHITE, the whole thing becomes a bit tired and clichéd. The film’s finale, therefore, doesn’t come off as particularly exciting. We all know exactly how the story is going to end, even if there are a few 21st century twists along the way.
The real reason for the film’s success, and where most of its charm lies, is in Amy Adams’s live action performance. She is a Disney princess brought to life, and there’s nothing more to say about it. Skipping and singing through the early parts of the film, in a nearly unwieldy dress no less, she appears to have had every Disney cartoon implanted into her brain. Her sweetness and sadness are so animated and sympathetic, Giselle ranks up there with Belle, Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty. This is a breakthrough performance for Adams, who will probably have to prepare herself for hordes of 10-year-old fans for the rest of her life.
Director Kevin Lima (of past Disney films TARZAN and 102 DALMATIANS) keeps things lively, always winking at the audience to keep things from getting too sappy. This is never more apparent then when Giselle bursts into song. She calls out for her animal friends to help clean the house, and rats, deformed pigeons, flies and cockroaches swarm the room. When she sings in Central Park, the act quickly turns into a full-blown musical number with everyone joining in. Except, of course for Robert, who watches confusedly, wondering aloud why everyone seems to know the song. The numbers, penned by Disney alums Alan Menken and Stephen Schwartz are bouncy and bright, hearkening back to the glory days of the Disney animated musical.
The filmmakers and audience are so enamored with the comic possibilities invented that the sense of danger rarely pervades the scene. And indeed, the dramatic finale seems tacked onto the rest of the proceedings. But that does not deflate the sense of charm that viewers of all ages will be infected by. While not as clever a self-parody as other films, Adams’s inspired performance and light, breezy tone make ENCHANTED the perfect family film for the holidays. Even if the animation does not rank with Disney’s most artistic, the film is a fond look back to what came before and an optimistic look at what lies in store.
***/****
Starting off in traditional cel animation (the studio’s first attempt since 2004), ENCHANTED starts off with the classic fairy tale romance between Giselle and Prince Edward, who meet and fall in love through the power of song. But wherever true love is found, evil cannot be far away. This arises in the form of Narissa, Edward’s stepmother who is afraid of letting her kingdom slip into another’s hands. She banishes Giselle to the place where happy endings never come true: modern day New York. The film switches into live action (and a wider format) and we again meet Giselle (Adams), lost and confused in the unfriendly real world. She is saved by Robert (Patrick Dempsey), a divorce lawyer with a rather downtrodden view on life. Their mismatched personalities spar at first, but soon Giselle teaches Robert and his young daughter about the joy of true love and all that stuff in the fairy tales.
The film is chock full of references to past Disney animated films. Giselle herself is an amalgam of Snow White, Belle and Ariel (if only because of Adam’s long red hair). The evil queen (hammily rendered in live action by Susan Sarandon) is a dead ringer for Snow White’s stepmother; she even dresses as a hag and offers poisoned apples. Some of the film’s charm lies in finding the visual cues to past films (such as Giselle reflected in bubbles a la CINDERELLA), but when the plot seems so focused on the throwbacks, especially SNOW WHITE, the whole thing becomes a bit tired and clichéd. The film’s finale, therefore, doesn’t come off as particularly exciting. We all know exactly how the story is going to end, even if there are a few 21st century twists along the way.
The real reason for the film’s success, and where most of its charm lies, is in Amy Adams’s live action performance. She is a Disney princess brought to life, and there’s nothing more to say about it. Skipping and singing through the early parts of the film, in a nearly unwieldy dress no less, she appears to have had every Disney cartoon implanted into her brain. Her sweetness and sadness are so animated and sympathetic, Giselle ranks up there with Belle, Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty. This is a breakthrough performance for Adams, who will probably have to prepare herself for hordes of 10-year-old fans for the rest of her life.
Director Kevin Lima (of past Disney films TARZAN and 102 DALMATIANS) keeps things lively, always winking at the audience to keep things from getting too sappy. This is never more apparent then when Giselle bursts into song. She calls out for her animal friends to help clean the house, and rats, deformed pigeons, flies and cockroaches swarm the room. When she sings in Central Park, the act quickly turns into a full-blown musical number with everyone joining in. Except, of course for Robert, who watches confusedly, wondering aloud why everyone seems to know the song. The numbers, penned by Disney alums Alan Menken and Stephen Schwartz are bouncy and bright, hearkening back to the glory days of the Disney animated musical.
The filmmakers and audience are so enamored with the comic possibilities invented that the sense of danger rarely pervades the scene. And indeed, the dramatic finale seems tacked onto the rest of the proceedings. But that does not deflate the sense of charm that viewers of all ages will be infected by. While not as clever a self-parody as other films, Adams’s inspired performance and light, breezy tone make ENCHANTED the perfect family film for the holidays. Even if the animation does not rank with Disney’s most artistic, the film is a fond look back to what came before and an optimistic look at what lies in store.
***/****
Saturday, November 17, 2007
Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium
Well, it’s been predicted that consumers may not be spending as much this holiday season. Not if MR. MAGORIUM’S WONDER EMPORIUM has anything to do with it. One of the most noticeable things about the film is its sheer amount of product placement in the titular toy store. There’s everything from Curious George books to Duplo blocks to Lego logs and everything in between. Unfortunately, the fact that these images are so present and memorable after the film indicates there is not much else worth remembering about it. And it’s true; aside from an annoyingly catching title and a few recognizable items, MR. MAGORIUM’S WONDER EMPORIUM is a mess of wannabe originality that seems all too familiar.
The film centers on Molly Mahoney (Natalie Portman), a twentysomething would be composer/pianist who is the store manager of Mr. Magorium’s Wonder Emporium, a magical toy store with a mind of its own. The patriarch and namesake of the shop, Mr. Magorium (Dustin Hoffman) is a 243-year-old wizardly sage of a man, delivering quirky bits of wisdom as often as he recommends toys to his customers, all of whom he seems to know. When he employs a straight-laced accountant (Jason Bateman), lovingly nicknamed “the mutant”, it becomes all to clear that Mr. Magorium is preparing the store for a big change. Whether or not the store will take it well is the question.
Everything in the film is meant to be cutsey, child-like and magical. Yet most of its quirks seem borrowed (in less than exciting ways) from other films. The store itself is nothing more than a family-friendly spin on the old haunted house, while the odd conventions in it are hardly noteworthy; there is a bottomless bag taken directly from MARY POPPINS. This is most evident, however, in Hoffman’s performance as the titular character. Mr. Magorium is probably what Hoffman would have done were he ever cast as Willy Wonka; basically, the same as Gene Wilder but with a lisp. He’s quirky with a capital “Q”. (He’s an avid shoe collector! He has a pet zebra! Look at those crazy eyebrows!) His unusual remarks are also of the clichéd, anything-can-happen-if-you-believe type. While it is nice to get affirming statements once in a while, one prefers a little variety.
The film has a nice look, even if there are flaws here and there. The store itself is wonderfully constructed, vibrantly bringing to life the sense of dizzying disorganization while retaining a classical style. The score, co-written by Alexandre Desplat and Aaron Zigman, is probably the most magical part of the entire thing, completely delightful in every way. Zach Helm, who makes his directorial debut here, has an intriguing visual sense, even if his inexperience is quite obvious at times. Moments that are potentially comedic fall flat because of odd pacing and framing. The film’s visual effects are also a problem; in a piece so full of them, it would have been wise to invest in a larger budget than those seen in made-for-TV movies.
Of course, the film is intended mainly for children, so my jaded and cynical view on life would be ill-suited to it, right? Not necessarily. The film’s insistence on trying to shape a dramatic relationship around Magorium and Mahoney is rather heavy-handed, albeit in an inspirational way. Still, the lack of action throughout much of the film will have youngsters squirming in their seats. Moments of pure excitement are few and far between and everything in between is barely involving for adults, let alone children.
MR. MAGORIUM’S WONDER EMPORIUM does occasionally leave a smile on the face, thanks mostly to the easygoing charm and natural grace of Portman, but as she’s trying to find herself, viewers of all ages will be trying to find their watches. A film like this, though hardly original, does not have to be doomed from the start if it is in capable hands. Unfortunately Helm is too inexperienced to breathe new life into tired ideas, and the film drags endlessly towards its finish. By the end, we are left in a state similar to the store itself late in the film: moody and displeased.
*/****
The film centers on Molly Mahoney (Natalie Portman), a twentysomething would be composer/pianist who is the store manager of Mr. Magorium’s Wonder Emporium, a magical toy store with a mind of its own. The patriarch and namesake of the shop, Mr. Magorium (Dustin Hoffman) is a 243-year-old wizardly sage of a man, delivering quirky bits of wisdom as often as he recommends toys to his customers, all of whom he seems to know. When he employs a straight-laced accountant (Jason Bateman), lovingly nicknamed “the mutant”, it becomes all to clear that Mr. Magorium is preparing the store for a big change. Whether or not the store will take it well is the question.
Everything in the film is meant to be cutsey, child-like and magical. Yet most of its quirks seem borrowed (in less than exciting ways) from other films. The store itself is nothing more than a family-friendly spin on the old haunted house, while the odd conventions in it are hardly noteworthy; there is a bottomless bag taken directly from MARY POPPINS. This is most evident, however, in Hoffman’s performance as the titular character. Mr. Magorium is probably what Hoffman would have done were he ever cast as Willy Wonka; basically, the same as Gene Wilder but with a lisp. He’s quirky with a capital “Q”. (He’s an avid shoe collector! He has a pet zebra! Look at those crazy eyebrows!) His unusual remarks are also of the clichéd, anything-can-happen-if-you-believe type. While it is nice to get affirming statements once in a while, one prefers a little variety.
The film has a nice look, even if there are flaws here and there. The store itself is wonderfully constructed, vibrantly bringing to life the sense of dizzying disorganization while retaining a classical style. The score, co-written by Alexandre Desplat and Aaron Zigman, is probably the most magical part of the entire thing, completely delightful in every way. Zach Helm, who makes his directorial debut here, has an intriguing visual sense, even if his inexperience is quite obvious at times. Moments that are potentially comedic fall flat because of odd pacing and framing. The film’s visual effects are also a problem; in a piece so full of them, it would have been wise to invest in a larger budget than those seen in made-for-TV movies.
Of course, the film is intended mainly for children, so my jaded and cynical view on life would be ill-suited to it, right? Not necessarily. The film’s insistence on trying to shape a dramatic relationship around Magorium and Mahoney is rather heavy-handed, albeit in an inspirational way. Still, the lack of action throughout much of the film will have youngsters squirming in their seats. Moments of pure excitement are few and far between and everything in between is barely involving for adults, let alone children.
MR. MAGORIUM’S WONDER EMPORIUM does occasionally leave a smile on the face, thanks mostly to the easygoing charm and natural grace of Portman, but as she’s trying to find herself, viewers of all ages will be trying to find their watches. A film like this, though hardly original, does not have to be doomed from the start if it is in capable hands. Unfortunately Helm is too inexperienced to breathe new life into tired ideas, and the film drags endlessly towards its finish. By the end, we are left in a state similar to the store itself late in the film: moody and displeased.
*/****
Tuesday, November 13, 2007
Beowulf
Director Robert Zemeckis (of BACK TO THE FUTURE and FORREST GUMP) has always placed himself and his works as examples of cutting edge technology, making a self-proclaimed breakthrough in motion-capture animation in 2004’s THE POLAR EXPRESS, which was a decidedly mixed product. Well, Zemeckis has returned with a new and highly advanced style with BEOWULF, an adaptation of the ancient text that owes just as much to co-writers Roger Avary and Neil Gaiman as it does its source. Zemeckis and company do succeed on several levels; the animation is superior to previous outings, as is the fluidity in action and storytelling. Yet there are still key detractions in the animation that keep BEOWULF from being a completely satisfying experience.
Taking its episodic nature from the poem, BEOWULF traces the rise and fall of the great hero, breaking up into basically three segments. In the first, aged King Hrothgar (Anthony Hopkins) calls upon the titular hero (Ray Winstone) to vanquish his kingdom from a gruesome, violent demon Grendel (Crispin Glover). Yet once the monster is killed, Beowulf finds himself facing an even greater foe: Grendel’s mother (Angelina Jolie in a role decidedly different from its counterpart in the source). The third and final section of the film takes place years later, when Beowulf is forced to face the mistakes he made in his first two quests.
The first half of the film follows the poem fairly closely and the technology serves to accomplish what live-action films simply could not; a true adaptation of the English language’s densest works. Yet once Grendel’s mother enters the picture, it takes drastic turns. This will likely frustrate fans of the source, yet as this film is being marketed squarely at the young adult male set, its target market will forgive faithfulness in favor of animated Jolie’s naked body. And Jolie isn’t the only character showing some skin. The usually portly Winstone, transformed into a Conan the Barbarian-like muscleman (ah the wonders of animation), battles Grendel in the nude; Zemeckis utilizes several self-conscious objects (candles, arms and, most appropriately, swords) to keep the film from straying into R-rated territory. And if you’ve ever wanted to see Hopkins nearly lose all his clothes, this is your chance. The film pushes its PG-13 rating in almost every way, and the nudity is just part of it. Blood is spilled everywhere, arms and legs are pulled off and nearly every scene contains some sort of sexual innuendo.
Yet all the daring choices taken with the material do not make up for the faults in the film’s production. The techniques of the animation have certainly improved since THE POLAR EXPRESS; the amount of detail in the settings are particularly astounding. But the characters’ faces are largely immovable. There is still something about these figures, their lifeless eyes, unexpressive faces and too-fluid movements that stick out. In certain cases, they seem like no more than well-rendered video game characters. Zemeckis is also tempted one too many times to get gimmicky; he favors long “takes” moving from one place to another, trying to be as all-encompassing as possible. Sometimes the tactic works, such as when Grendel is introduced. But when nearly every shot is constructed that way, it gets noticeable and irritating.
BEOWULF is an interesting continuation of an interesting experiment, greater than its predecessor but hampered by its noticeable faults. It is at times thrilling and spellbinding, especially when viewed in 3-D, but that is only during the film’s action sequences. During the dramatic scenes, Zemeckis’s gimmicks become all the more apparent and bog the film down. The film is not for everyone, and will probably upset some fans of the source. But those that find the technique used will undoubtedly be intrigued by the film. Entertaining enough for what it is, BEOWULF is still not the technological breakthrough Zemeckis wished for, but it’s a step closer.
**1/2
Taking its episodic nature from the poem, BEOWULF traces the rise and fall of the great hero, breaking up into basically three segments. In the first, aged King Hrothgar (Anthony Hopkins) calls upon the titular hero (Ray Winstone) to vanquish his kingdom from a gruesome, violent demon Grendel (Crispin Glover). Yet once the monster is killed, Beowulf finds himself facing an even greater foe: Grendel’s mother (Angelina Jolie in a role decidedly different from its counterpart in the source). The third and final section of the film takes place years later, when Beowulf is forced to face the mistakes he made in his first two quests.
The first half of the film follows the poem fairly closely and the technology serves to accomplish what live-action films simply could not; a true adaptation of the English language’s densest works. Yet once Grendel’s mother enters the picture, it takes drastic turns. This will likely frustrate fans of the source, yet as this film is being marketed squarely at the young adult male set, its target market will forgive faithfulness in favor of animated Jolie’s naked body. And Jolie isn’t the only character showing some skin. The usually portly Winstone, transformed into a Conan the Barbarian-like muscleman (ah the wonders of animation), battles Grendel in the nude; Zemeckis utilizes several self-conscious objects (candles, arms and, most appropriately, swords) to keep the film from straying into R-rated territory. And if you’ve ever wanted to see Hopkins nearly lose all his clothes, this is your chance. The film pushes its PG-13 rating in almost every way, and the nudity is just part of it. Blood is spilled everywhere, arms and legs are pulled off and nearly every scene contains some sort of sexual innuendo.
Yet all the daring choices taken with the material do not make up for the faults in the film’s production. The techniques of the animation have certainly improved since THE POLAR EXPRESS; the amount of detail in the settings are particularly astounding. But the characters’ faces are largely immovable. There is still something about these figures, their lifeless eyes, unexpressive faces and too-fluid movements that stick out. In certain cases, they seem like no more than well-rendered video game characters. Zemeckis is also tempted one too many times to get gimmicky; he favors long “takes” moving from one place to another, trying to be as all-encompassing as possible. Sometimes the tactic works, such as when Grendel is introduced. But when nearly every shot is constructed that way, it gets noticeable and irritating.
BEOWULF is an interesting continuation of an interesting experiment, greater than its predecessor but hampered by its noticeable faults. It is at times thrilling and spellbinding, especially when viewed in 3-D, but that is only during the film’s action sequences. During the dramatic scenes, Zemeckis’s gimmicks become all the more apparent and bog the film down. The film is not for everyone, and will probably upset some fans of the source. But those that find the technique used will undoubtedly be intrigued by the film. Entertaining enough for what it is, BEOWULF is still not the technological breakthrough Zemeckis wished for, but it’s a step closer.
**1/2
Saturday, November 10, 2007
No Country for Old Men
After only hinting at their trademark darkness in the past few years, the Coen Brothers are back in full-force with NO COUNTRY FOR OLD MEN, a brilliant tour-de-force of directing and acting. Adapted from the Cormac MCarthy novel, but still retaining all the stylistics and quirks of the directors, they have created perhaps their bleakest film yet; one that creates a thrilling balance between moments of shocking violence and unsettling silence. Featuring career-defining performances from Javier Bardem, Tommy Lee Jones and Josh Brolin, the film is a must-see and nothing less than the best film of the year.
The main story follows Llewellyn Moss (Brolin), a hunter who stumbles upon a stash of drugs and millions of dollars following a deadly shoot-out in the middle of a Texas nowhere. He takes the money but leaves one of the victims alive, who eventually hires a ruthless killer, Anton Chigurh (Bardem) to retrieve the money. All the while, Moss knows he’s being hunted, sending his confused wife (Kelly Macdonald) to her mother’s while a verge-of-retirement sheriff Ed Tom Bell (Jones) tries to pick up the pieces of the crime and save Moss before it is too late. While Moss’s story drives the film, Chigurh and Bell’s stories are nearly as important, and the glimpses into their past are often more intriguing than Moss’s.
This is due mainly in part to the astounding performances, especially from Bardem and Jones. While Brolin puts forth his strongest work in his perhaps not-so-distinguished career, he cannot help but be outshined by the two men whose characters hold much of the intrigue and meaning of the piece. As Chigurh, Bardem is at once terrifying and hilarious. His mannerisms in his interactions with various local folk and his night-stalking of Moss do not change, but once he reveals his weapon (maybe the most chill-inducing prop ever) his dry comic timing becomes serious, silent and horrifying. He is more than just a driven killer; the lengths he drives himself to and the methods he uses to make himself invisible illustrate a deeper psychological purpose that is spoken of only a few times in the film. Jones is equally as impressive; he imbues his character with a weary, melancholy air that also proves hilarious and heart-wrenching. He delivers most of his lines with a dry bent that get most of the film’s laughs, yet when he muses about his own life, the film enters its most meaningful parts. It is from Bell that the title is driven, and it is from Bell it gets its meaning.
While the film is superbly constructed on all levels, the Coen Brothers made their masterpiece a center point of how effective editing and sound design can be. Aside from the suspenseful sequences with Chigurh, the film is a very muted affair; people never raise their voices when speaking to each other and nothing, not the rumbling of outside traffic, not even Carter Burwell’s score seems to intrude on it. This is what makes the suspense sequences all the more effective; no matter how much it may be hinted, the sudden bursts of noise (a lock popping out, a car exploding, etc.) always get a start from the viewer, eventually leading them into a state of tension that they cannot escape from. And when the noise begins, what follows it truly horrifying. Shockingly violent, but in a very real way, these sequences are perhaps the strongest the Coen Brothers have ever created. Of particular note is when Moss and Chigurh actually meet in a decadent Southern hotel. Their shoot-out leads into the street, and every second it goes on, the viewer becomes more and more affected.
The Coen Brothers still retain their sense of humor, contrasting the chilling violence with the studies of small-town American eccentrics they’re known for. Yet they have set out to accomplish something different with this film, and they succeed on all levels. NO COUNTRY FOR OLD MEN is a harrowing experience, leaving the viewer in a state of shock by its finish. It isn’t gratuitous at all; in fact the most intriguing parts of the film come from what we’re not shown. The film is an experience not to be missed. It is, without a doubt, a crowning achievement for the Coen Brothers.
****
The main story follows Llewellyn Moss (Brolin), a hunter who stumbles upon a stash of drugs and millions of dollars following a deadly shoot-out in the middle of a Texas nowhere. He takes the money but leaves one of the victims alive, who eventually hires a ruthless killer, Anton Chigurh (Bardem) to retrieve the money. All the while, Moss knows he’s being hunted, sending his confused wife (Kelly Macdonald) to her mother’s while a verge-of-retirement sheriff Ed Tom Bell (Jones) tries to pick up the pieces of the crime and save Moss before it is too late. While Moss’s story drives the film, Chigurh and Bell’s stories are nearly as important, and the glimpses into their past are often more intriguing than Moss’s.
This is due mainly in part to the astounding performances, especially from Bardem and Jones. While Brolin puts forth his strongest work in his perhaps not-so-distinguished career, he cannot help but be outshined by the two men whose characters hold much of the intrigue and meaning of the piece. As Chigurh, Bardem is at once terrifying and hilarious. His mannerisms in his interactions with various local folk and his night-stalking of Moss do not change, but once he reveals his weapon (maybe the most chill-inducing prop ever) his dry comic timing becomes serious, silent and horrifying. He is more than just a driven killer; the lengths he drives himself to and the methods he uses to make himself invisible illustrate a deeper psychological purpose that is spoken of only a few times in the film. Jones is equally as impressive; he imbues his character with a weary, melancholy air that also proves hilarious and heart-wrenching. He delivers most of his lines with a dry bent that get most of the film’s laughs, yet when he muses about his own life, the film enters its most meaningful parts. It is from Bell that the title is driven, and it is from Bell it gets its meaning.
While the film is superbly constructed on all levels, the Coen Brothers made their masterpiece a center point of how effective editing and sound design can be. Aside from the suspenseful sequences with Chigurh, the film is a very muted affair; people never raise their voices when speaking to each other and nothing, not the rumbling of outside traffic, not even Carter Burwell’s score seems to intrude on it. This is what makes the suspense sequences all the more effective; no matter how much it may be hinted, the sudden bursts of noise (a lock popping out, a car exploding, etc.) always get a start from the viewer, eventually leading them into a state of tension that they cannot escape from. And when the noise begins, what follows it truly horrifying. Shockingly violent, but in a very real way, these sequences are perhaps the strongest the Coen Brothers have ever created. Of particular note is when Moss and Chigurh actually meet in a decadent Southern hotel. Their shoot-out leads into the street, and every second it goes on, the viewer becomes more and more affected.
The Coen Brothers still retain their sense of humor, contrasting the chilling violence with the studies of small-town American eccentrics they’re known for. Yet they have set out to accomplish something different with this film, and they succeed on all levels. NO COUNTRY FOR OLD MEN is a harrowing experience, leaving the viewer in a state of shock by its finish. It isn’t gratuitous at all; in fact the most intriguing parts of the film come from what we’re not shown. The film is an experience not to be missed. It is, without a doubt, a crowning achievement for the Coen Brothers.
****
Saturday, November 3, 2007
American Gangster
The success of THE DEPARTED last year likely signaled a resurgence in the popularity of crime thrillers, and its triumph at the Oscars seemed destined to make these films more important than ever. AMERICAN GANGSTER is one of these films; finally arriving on screens after years of developmental hell, it reunites director Ridley Scott with Russell Crowe and once again brings Denzel Washington to the wrong side of the law. With the film, Scott has successfully distanced himself from the critical and financial disappointments A GOOD YEAR and KINGDOM OF HEAVEN, though the film’s bloated excess and self-import hinder it and keep it from being all it could have been.
AMERICAN GANGSTER tells the true story (as it is noted in the opening credits) of Frank Lucas (Washington), the protégé of a New York criminal who rises to the top of the city’s illegal drug ring, defying all previously-existed expectations and becoming more powerful than the Italian mob families. Simultaneously told is the story of Riche Roberts (Crowe), the do-good cop who heads the branch placed in charge of big-time drug raids. These two intersecting stories paint a vivid picture, not only of life in New York City during the Vietnam War, but what exactly makes a decent man and what makes a criminal.
These more psychological studies are concentrated mostly on Lucas. He is, by all outward appearances, a decent man; he takes care of his family, has a loving wife and has worked his way to the top by himself. The only thing that’s keeping him from being a hero is the fact that he smuggles drugs for a living. It also helps that Lucas is played by Washington, one of Hollywood’s most likable stars. The film takes many moments to showcase Lucas’s alteration between family man and ruthless criminal, and Washington certainly delivers in these moments. It’s all a bit ho-hum (the shock of him as a villain seems to have worn off), but solid work nonetheless. Much more compelling, though sadly misused, is Crowe. Roberts is given basically nothing to do for the first half of the film, but Crowe remains a strong presence throughout. Not much time is taken to explore the darker side of his character; he has family problems, but they are dealt with so briefly that they barely register.
The film plods along for the first hour, offering nothing overtly compelling. The film is an entire build-up to the end; the last half-hour of the film is superbly constructed and ranks with the best crime thrillers, but the journey there seems unending and drags until it gradually picks up its feet. And aside from Crowe and Washington, a cast filled with recognizable faces is rarely given the opportunity to shine. An exception to this is Ruby Dee, outstanding and restrained in an unfortunately limited role as Washington’s mother. Most other characters are pushed aside in favor of studying Lucas and Roberts’ personalities and motivations. This sadly leads to prolonged scenes of the two sitting and talking to various partners, which does nothing to help the film’s sluggish pace early on.
As always, Scott constructs the entire piece with precision and mastery. In the action sequences, he seems to rise to another level; the film’s finale is stunningly tense, no matter how clear its outcome may be. Yet there are so few action sequences spread out in its 2.5-hour running time, and though Scott is able and adept at directing straight dramatic scenes, that certain flair he displays is sorely missed. Most of these problems are thanks to Steven Zaillian’s script, which is so serious and far-reaching in its scope that it cannot help but become bloated. A half hour could easily be excised from the film with no major damage.
AMERICAN GANGSTER poses itself to be the next great crime thriller, but by doing that, it believes in its own importance far too much and therefore falls short. There are many moments of greatness contained in it, but too much exposition must be waded through to get to them. Still, a memorable effort from Ridley Scott and compelling performances from Washington, Crowe and Ruby Dee make this film one of the year’s must-sees.
***
AMERICAN GANGSTER tells the true story (as it is noted in the opening credits) of Frank Lucas (Washington), the protégé of a New York criminal who rises to the top of the city’s illegal drug ring, defying all previously-existed expectations and becoming more powerful than the Italian mob families. Simultaneously told is the story of Riche Roberts (Crowe), the do-good cop who heads the branch placed in charge of big-time drug raids. These two intersecting stories paint a vivid picture, not only of life in New York City during the Vietnam War, but what exactly makes a decent man and what makes a criminal.
These more psychological studies are concentrated mostly on Lucas. He is, by all outward appearances, a decent man; he takes care of his family, has a loving wife and has worked his way to the top by himself. The only thing that’s keeping him from being a hero is the fact that he smuggles drugs for a living. It also helps that Lucas is played by Washington, one of Hollywood’s most likable stars. The film takes many moments to showcase Lucas’s alteration between family man and ruthless criminal, and Washington certainly delivers in these moments. It’s all a bit ho-hum (the shock of him as a villain seems to have worn off), but solid work nonetheless. Much more compelling, though sadly misused, is Crowe. Roberts is given basically nothing to do for the first half of the film, but Crowe remains a strong presence throughout. Not much time is taken to explore the darker side of his character; he has family problems, but they are dealt with so briefly that they barely register.
The film plods along for the first hour, offering nothing overtly compelling. The film is an entire build-up to the end; the last half-hour of the film is superbly constructed and ranks with the best crime thrillers, but the journey there seems unending and drags until it gradually picks up its feet. And aside from Crowe and Washington, a cast filled with recognizable faces is rarely given the opportunity to shine. An exception to this is Ruby Dee, outstanding and restrained in an unfortunately limited role as Washington’s mother. Most other characters are pushed aside in favor of studying Lucas and Roberts’ personalities and motivations. This sadly leads to prolonged scenes of the two sitting and talking to various partners, which does nothing to help the film’s sluggish pace early on.
As always, Scott constructs the entire piece with precision and mastery. In the action sequences, he seems to rise to another level; the film’s finale is stunningly tense, no matter how clear its outcome may be. Yet there are so few action sequences spread out in its 2.5-hour running time, and though Scott is able and adept at directing straight dramatic scenes, that certain flair he displays is sorely missed. Most of these problems are thanks to Steven Zaillian’s script, which is so serious and far-reaching in its scope that it cannot help but become bloated. A half hour could easily be excised from the film with no major damage.
AMERICAN GANGSTER poses itself to be the next great crime thriller, but by doing that, it believes in its own importance far too much and therefore falls short. There are many moments of greatness contained in it, but too much exposition must be waded through to get to them. Still, a memorable effort from Ridley Scott and compelling performances from Washington, Crowe and Ruby Dee make this film one of the year’s must-sees.
***
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