Review: SNOW WHITE & THE HUNTSMAN

We had Mirror, Mirror, and everyone made a big deal about how the world would implode if two revisions of the Snow White tale were released a few months apart... Well, the one with Julia Roberts looked like a Bollywood film with the budget of a Barney episode (sorry, Julia, love you). And, even if you're not a fan of Snow White & the Huntsman, you have to admit that the entire film looks incredible - this is director Rupert Sanders' first feature after a history of commercials and Xbox games, and the man certainly knows his way around an imaginatively gorgeous visual.

Sanders, however, doesn't always know how to piece together those moments into a bigger picture, and the film is a little disjointed; for example, the first act features some winking allusions to the original story's iconic red apple that come out of nowhere. There's also a lot of superfluous material in the middle of the film, used more to show off different locales of this fairy tale than develop character or dramatic tension. Regardless, this Snow White is still a big summer-y action blockbuster with strong feminist undertones, as Snow White is more of a Joan of Arc via Katniss Everdeen figure than the horribly boring girl with that bad haircut from the 1937 Disney classic. Stewart gets a lot of shit from a lot of people, but she has carved out her niche as a new generation's tragically romantic heroine; this oh-so-serious Snow White downplays any big romantic moments, but Stewart fills her Snow with more conviction than she's ever shown as the wry Bella Swan. I am definitely in the minority when I saw that I'm a huge fan of Kristen Stewart, and I think down the road her career will really explode. This is just the beginning.

Chris Hemsworth doesn't have a whole lot to do here (he doesn't even have a real name - just Hunstman, which is kind of sad), but he delivers his emotional scenes with appropriate aplomb. He also adds some light humor, and he has a brief shirtless scene! So you also get that for your $12. Hemsworth does cry really well. Charlize Theron also cries really well. They both only cry a single tear. There is no time for full sobbing in Snow White & the Huntsman, probably because everyone is about to die and doesn't have time to actually cry. Scary. Charlize Theron ultimately owns the movie because Queen Ravenna just doesn't give a fuck. She sucks out the souls of young girls. She eats the beating hearts of dead sparrows with these long metallic fingernail rings. She bathes in milk. She might be 100% mentally insane. Theron chews scenery like an absolute pro, providing sharp-eyed menace without teetering into overplayed camp. Her clothes are also absurd. She is too beautiful. Basically, she's horrifying but I definitely want to kiss her on the lips. I'd complain that we don't get enough of her but her name isn't in the title so I'm not sure if that's really fair.

I can't say much about the obligatory dwarves (we get eight here) because I couldn't really understand what they were saying most of the time. Oh well. I haven't been on board with the new wave of fairy tale recreations; I think ABC's Once Upon A Time is really cheap, and you can definitely slap me if you're a fan - nothing has achieved what the still-running Fables comic book series accomplishes. However, Snow White & The Huntsman is kind of everything I wanted - thrilling, emotional, rich, imaginative, a little scary, a little ridiculous. This is summer! Sure, the third act borrows from every single medieval war epic literally ever, underwriting some of the dark and dangerously inventive material from earlier. So what. I want big-budget CGI and Kristen Stewart riding into battle without a helmet! Losing yourself in spectacle isn't always a bad thing. I'll feel differently by the end of August, but for now, I'm enjoying myself. There might be a better film buried in Snow White, that develops its feminist themes a little more and is guided by a more experienced director, but this film accomplishes what it promised. Now, where's the prequel called Ravenna? B+

Waiting for Godot, or Whatever

I haven't seen a new movie in forever (besides, you know, Titanic 3D). I haven't read a book for pleasure in 732 years. I don't know any new music because boy bands are taking over the land and I'm cowering back into sad quasi-folk music. Regardless, college officially ends on May 16th, after which I can wholly pretend to enrich the lives of others with my weird posts. This is really just a brief statement to say that I am not dead, I am maybe planning a 20,000 word piece on Sleep No More (or Girls, since the Internet hasn't really weighed in on that show yet), and I will return soon enough. Namaste.

Oscars 2012 - The Will Win, Should Win Game

The Oscars are tomorrow night (Sunday, February 26th - ABC's red carpet coverage begins at 7:00pm) , which basically rivals Christmas as a single day that is filled with too much love and crazy and food and joy to handle. Unfortunately, I cannot watch the telecast live this year due to a swim meet. I don't want to talk about it... Below are my choices for who WILL win, and who SHOULD win. There will be no mentions of snubs from the full nominee list (if you need a refresher, here's the official Oscar site). Listing my predictions makes me feel very vulnerable? Self-concious? Wonky? Hopefully I'm right about most of these. Hopefully I'm wrong about a few; nothing is more exciting than a big Oscar upset. This is just my last chance to be a cynical asshole at the very end of awards hoopla, and present my unnecessary opinions. Duh.

Best Picture
Will Win: The Artist
Should Win: The Tree of Life
The Artist has had a near-flawless run on the Road to the Oscars, and there's almost no chance that it can lose here; the film is wonderfully charming, a strangely modern feat in old fashioned storytelling. I still think Hugo pays better homage to Golden Hollywood, but I have no problem with The Artist taking home the glory. I'm simply more in the camp that Best Picture should go to a bigger movie, a movie that accomplishes something on a much wider scope. The Tree of Life is my favorite movie of the year; I'll have to be content settling for the wonderful inclusion in this race. If you want to talk about The Tree of Life forever and ever, just let me know! A DINOSAUR!

Best Director
Will Win: Michel Hazanavicius, The Artist
Should Win: Terrence Malick, The Tree of Life
The Academy almost always pairs Best Director and Best Picture, and Hazanavicius has had a runaway year with his nimble wit and playful direction. Terrence Malick should be winning awards for crafting the most intricate cinematic experience of the year. Don't listen to Sean Penn.

Best Actor
Will Win: Jean Dujardin, The Artist
Should Win: Brad Pitt, Moneyball
Jean Dujardin has charmed the pants off of Hollywood, from his adorable acceptance speeches at the Golden Globes and the SAGS to a surprise dancing appearance on SNL; I'm pegging an "upset" over George Clooney (GEROGE DOESN'T DESERVE IT THOUGH I DIDN'T REALLY LIKE THE DESCENDANTS CAN YOU TELL). Brad Pitt, combined with his performance in The Tree of Life (drinking game - take a shot every time I mention my unending love for The Tree of Life), shows that he's at the peak of his career. I think there will be an Oscar for Pitt in the coming years, but I wish he still had the momentum to nab the trophy. Sigh. This is probably the closest, most exciting race of the year.

Best Actress
Will & Should Win: Viola Davis, The Help
Viola Davis gave the most honest and heart-wrenching performance of 2011. The Academy loves big emotional performances. It all adds up! I would love if Davis and Meryl Streep could work out the elusive tie (last time that happened? 1968, with Katherine Hepburn and Barbara Streisand), but I've been ranting and raving about Davis' performance since The Help arrived in August. She hit me hard. I ugly cried a lot. A LOT.

Best Supporting Actor
Will & Should Win: Christopher Plummer, Beginners
Christopher Plummer could win this rather weak category on career reverence alone. It doesn't hurt that he gives a near-perfect performance in this quiet (and somewhat under-appreciated) little movie.

Best Supporting Actress
Will Win: Octavia Spencer, The Help
Should Win: Jessica Chastain, The Help
I love Octavia Spencer, and have absolutely no problem with her awards season domination, but Jessica Chastain is the breakout star of The Help's exceptional ensemble. Still, there's something perfect in the chance that Viola Davis and Octavia Spencer could (will?) win together... Also, for your viewing pleasure after Octavia wins - a song from a fictional The Help: The Musical, based on that scene with Ocatvia and the pie and poop.

Best Original Screenplay
Will Win: Woody Allen, Midnight in Paris
Should Win: Asghar Farhadi, A Separation
Woody Allen is back on his A-game with the sweet nostalgia of Midnight in Paris (bring that magic back to Manhattan, Woody!). Yet, Farhadi's screenplay for A Separation is mind-blowingly intricate, with enough shades of grey that post-viewing conversation is bound to be passionate and frustrating; this is the first foreign nominee in this category since The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, which is a feat in and of itself.

Best Adapted Screenplay
Will Win: Alexander Payne and Nat Faxon & Jim Rash, The Descendants 
Should Win: Steven Zaillian and Aaron Sorkin, Moneyball
Hollywood loves Payne. I do not. Zaillian and Sorkin should win for crafting a riveting sports movie, featuring big scenes about math (I also hate math, but not as much as I hate Payne), that ultimately has nothing to do with baseball.

Best Animated Feature
Will & Should Win: Rango
I will throw my television (or rather, my Blackberry, since I'll be "watching" the Oscars via live tweets...) out a window if Rango doesn't achieve victory here. Yes, it's that serious.

Best Foreign Film
Will & Should Win: A Separation
I haven't seen anything else nominated. Oh well. A Separation is that good.

Best Original Score:
Will & Should Win: Ludovic Bource, The Artist
The music is basically a character in this film. Since it's silent. Almost a no-brainer, right?

2011: Favorite Films

As the natural follow-up to the post below, here are my ten favorite films of the year. I don't think these are necessarily the best films, but these are the ones that I just couldn't shake (in one way or another). With Oscar nominations announced tomorrow morning, skip the shit studios like to dump in January + February and catch up on the goodies still lingering from 2011. Almost all of these were viewed with a Coke and Reese's Pieces (occasionally swapped out for a small popcorn), also knows as the greatest movie theater snacks. Honorable mentions include: Moneyball, Young Adult, Bridesmaids, Crazy Stupid Love, Rango, Tinker Tailor Solider Spy, and Melancholia; I'd still like to see: A Dangerous Method, Margaret, Meek's Cutoff, Poetry, Coriolanus, and Margin Call. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part II lives in its own category, because my emotional associations with that entire series are far too wonky to judge the adaptations accurately.

10. The Help - Sure, the surprise hit from the end of summer isn't high art, but Tate Taylor's straightforward adaptation of Katherine Stockett's bestselling novel has maybe the best ensemble of the year; it also balances strong comedy with perfectly executed emotion. The Help features my favorite single performance of the year, in Viola Davis. It's rare that a performance on screen can genuinely make my heart race, but Davis puts her entire being into Aibileen. Her eyes alone overwhelm.

9. Martha Marcy May Marelene - Elizabeth Olsen brings edge to this exploration of life inside a cult, as does the sharp direction by Sean Durkin (expanding his own short). Durkin frames every single shot with mounting tension and confusion; a fight between Martha and her older sister towards the end of the film is framed with such horror that I barely remember what the two characters were saying to one another. In the year of ambiguous indie endings, MMMM takes the cake. Terrifying, in the best possible way.

8. War Horse - The first of three films on my list that are drenched in cinematic nostalgia, Spielberg crafts this sweeping war epic like the giant movies of the 1930s and 40s; unapologetically melodramatic, sweetly sentimental, and with a final scene that explicit references the lush cinematography of Gone with the Wind, Spielberg improves upon the lauded (and overrated) stage adaptation; the master director also proves that Hollywood just doesn't make 'em like they used to.

7. The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo - It's impossible not to judge this movie based on comparison. Fincher lends his mastery of cold dread to the American adaptation of Stieg Larsson's famous Swedish thriller, and improves with stylish flair upon the blunt force utilized in the Swedish film adaptation (just look at the new opening credits sequence). Fincher also finds the heart of Larsson's books, and therefore this film, in his interpretation of Lisbeth Salander. Rooney Mara catapults into the A-list with her raw performance, mining both Salander's hard edge and hidden vulnerability. 

6. Drive - Ryan Gosling creating a mythic, near-silent character? With the neo-superhero "costume" of a white bomber jacket embossed with a scorpion? Featuring the best soundtrack of the year, and quasi-European art house echoes of Quentin Tarantino? Possibly the only release from 2011 in which I would applaud the news of a sequel.

5. Shame - I'm a sucker for both director Steve McQueen and Michael Fassbender. Sorry. Stick a couple of extended takes with minimal camera trickery in your film and you automatically make my list! While the film's reputation may have become more famous than the film itself, with the NC-17 rating and full frontal male nudity, McQueen + Fassbender have put together the most interesting character study of the year. The sex in Shame isn't fun, or sexy; it's frightening, embarrassing, devastating. Fassbender, after a breakout year of multiple performances rivaled only by Jessica Chastain, cements his status as the most forceful new male talent in Hollywood. I also think this plays as an interesting conversation piece alongside Drive, if you ever feel like grabbing coffee and rambling with me about weird things and letting me waste more of your time.

4. The Artist - Or, The Little Movie That Could. Who knew a black and white film, relishing in its replication the film techniques of the silent era, could not only be the Oscar frontrunner, but could also be a charming hit? I think the film would bump up a few slots if the second act was 10-15 minutes shorter, but it is impossible to resist this film's charm and unburdened narrative techniques. The Artist revels in the way we tell stories on the silver screen, the pure joy of moviemaking; it's nice to remember why we come to the movies in the first place.

3. A Separation - Everything I wanted from The Descendants arrived, rather unceremoniously, in this wildly accessible Iranian drama; a mundane depiction of a crumbling marriage rapidly transforms into a legal thriller of muddled lies and the quietest of human relationships. Every moment is depicted in shades of grey, ambiguities pushed into infirm proclamations. Frustratingly honest, A Separation manages to plant itself firmly in Iranian culture while also grappling with universal themes - family, generational divide, gender wars, feminist uprising, the loss of machismo, religion, class, independence, the definition of honest. I haven't seen a film in a long time that juggles such complicated emotional entanglements on so many planes.

2. Hugo 3D - Martin Scorsese's love letter to childhood wonder and the cinematic magic is the third film on my list that harkens back to a different generation of filmmaking, and my favorite from 2011. Cut through again with nostalgia and simply storytelling, Scorsese's adaptation embeds its plot with gorgeously restored Georges Méliès films, and a sense of gleeful restraint that Scorsese almost never utilizes. I included 3D in the title because this is the greatest use of the "new" technology I have ever seen, besting even Avatar; if possible, pay the extra money to see this wonder in a movie theater. Scorsese uses the form to breathtaking effect, painting deep Parisian cityscapes while adding a playful sense of innocent fantasy to every shot. 

1. The Tree of Life - This choice might finally cement my status as a crazy pretentious asshole, but I've been called worse. I certainly don't think Terrence Malick's polarizing film is a perfect piece of art (dinosaurs?), but it is definitely a piece of art; nothing in 2011 rivaled Malick's ambition and scope, or lodged itself so deeply in my brain and heart. After this film's (awkward) mid-summer release, I kept waiting for something to wow me on the same level. Tree of Life is my favorite film of the year because it not only made me question the many layers of my own life, but it also made me question what we can accomplish with filmmaking. Tree of Life straddles the cosmic and the intimate, shared experience with the singular. It's not for everyone, but I do think everyone should at least try to sit through Malick's vision if the mood is right. Featuring one of Brad Pitt's best performances ever, Malick uses film as poetry to form a disjointed narrative that cares more about clarity of emotion than clarity of narrative. Malick is a visionary director. Even with those dinosaurs.

2011: Favorite Performances

In an attempt to reboot this whole sad blog thing, I decided to finally add a new post recapping 2011 at the movies. With Oscar nominations being announced tomorrow morning, this felt... appropriate. Hopefully I'll return with regular posts very soon. Hopefully I'll stop taking myself so seriously.

Below are my five favorites, the five I would nominate in each category if someone was dumb enough to give me full control over my own awards ceremony; the choice listed in bold would be my winner. This is in no way any sort of Oscar prediction, but rather just a chance to share what I loved.

Best Actor
Jean Dujardin, The Artist
Michael Fassbender, Shame
Ryan Gosling, Drive
Gary Oldman, Tinker Tailor Solider Spy
Brad Pitt, Moneyball

Best Actress
Viola Davis, The Help
Kirsten Dunst, Melancholia
Rooney Mara, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo
Elizabeth Olsen, Martha Marcy May Marlene
Meryl Streep, The Iron Lady

Best Supporting Actor
Alan Brooks, Drive
Jonah Hill, Moneyball
Brad Pitt, The Tree of Life
Christopher Plummer, Beginners
Alan Rickman, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part II

Best Supporting Actress

Bérénice Bejo, The Artist

Jessica Chastain, The Help

Carey Mulligan, Shame

Octavia Spencer, The Help

Shailene Woodley, The Descendants

Best Director
David Fincher, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo
Michel Hazanavicius, The Artist
Terrence Malick, The Tree of Life
Martin Scorsese, Hugo
Steven Spielberg, War Horse

Best Original Screenplay
Woody Allen, Midnight in Paris
Diablo Cody, Young Adult
Asghar Farhadi, A Separation
Will Reiser, 50/50
Kristen Wiig & Annie Mumolo, Bridesmaids

Best Adapted Screenplay
Bridget O'Connor & Peter Straughan, Tinker Tailor Solider Spy
Steven Zaillian & Aaron Sorkin, Moneyball
John Logan, Hugo
Steven Zaillian, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo
Tate Taylor, The Help

Best Original Score
Ludovic Bource, The Artist
The Chemical Brothers, Hanna
Trent Reznor & Atticus Ross, The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo
Howard Shore, Hugo
John Williams, War Horse

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2

It all ends. It's the tagline for Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 2 (HP7.2), but also the blunt truth about this emotional journey. For me, it would be impossible to separate this review from what I feel deep in my heart. I'm biased! I grew up with these characters. They've been in my life for over a decade. As this series ends, so does my childhood. Melodramatic and schmaltzy, but that's how I felt sitting in the theater. Harry finally faces Voldermort, the climactic world-shattering finale.

While director David Yates, who's been in charge since Order of the Phoenix, isn't my favorite talent in shaping Harry's quest (that distinction goes to Alfonso Cuarón), he has crafted the delicate balance the series needed, matching blockbuster bombast with artistic ambition. Picking up directly where Part 1 finished, Yates breathlessly guides the action forward, swiftly placing the action back at Hogwarts. The cinematography is in equal parts lush and gritty, and the film is washed in sweeping visuals; the entire production team, as it has been since Chris Columbus' candy-sweet sheen was thrown out, is topnotch. There are certainly moments where Yates could pull back and let a scene breathe, or not undermine a somber moment with an overly quippy tag ending the scene; also, Deathly Hallows is capped by that sticky epilogue, but Yates does his best translating the moment (which admittedly works better on paper, and Yates had to recall the cast for a last-minute reshoot). Still, Yates confidently places every single emotion directly where it needs to be.

Yates has let the series mature elegantly, helping push the ensemble to give uniformly strong performances. Daniel Radcliffe, Rupert Grint, and Emma Watson have certainly never been phenomenal actors, but it's impossible not to be moved by their performances, having watched them grow so much. Alan Rickman, once again, shows why he's the one and only Snape, his performance filled with harsh edge and delicate nuance; it's no wonder Snape was recently voted fan favorite character of the series, aided by Rickman's performance. When Snape's biggest moment comes towards the end of the film, where his true intentions are revealed, Rickman is absolute perfection. Here's hoping there's at least an Oscar nomination in his future.

Here's also hoping that Maggie Smith's Professor McGonagall can sneak away with a nomination for her beautiful, pitch-perfect work, despite her very limited screen time (she brought out my first big tears of the night). Helena Bonham Carter is gleefully hilarious when Hermione must infiltrate Gringotts Bank disguised as Bellatrix. Ralph Fiennes almost makes you wish Voldermort had more screen-time in previous installments, he's that wickedly good. It goes on and on. Some of the greatest working British actors have passed through this series, providing skill and grace, just one of the details that makes Harry Potter such a truly unprecedented franchise.

Seven books. Eight movies. Countless memories. The glowing reminder that love truly does conquer all, no matter the sacrifices made along the way. The awe-inspiring lesson that through endless obstacles and overwhelming danger, this world is still a place where magic exists, where children are thrust out to find themselves and fight for truth. I sobbed multiple times throughout HP7.2. Every fan of this generation certainly will. J.K. Rowling has crafted an unbelievable world, and the entire cast and crew of this franchise has done a stunning job translating her vision to the screen. These characters will live on forever. Their goodbye couldn't have been more satisfying, or bittersweet.

X-Men: First Class + Midnight in Paris

These are umm terribly late. Oopsie? Still felt the need to post, so here you go!

Woody Allen is back (does this man ever take a break?) with a charming little love letter to Paris, and to the giddy intellectual fury of the 1920s, in Midnight to Paris. With Owen Wilson playing the typical Allen role in Gil, a neurotic writer trying to finish his big novel, the film centers on a couple taking a vacation in Paris; Gil's frustrated fiancee (the miscast Rachel McAdams with a lot of shirt-dresses in her wardrobe) doesn't appreciate his Parisian musings, but Gil finds a magical transportation to the past while wandering the streets of the City of Light at, well, midnight. Allen has a blast throwing figureheads of the 1920s art scene into Gil's wanderings - Picasso, Gertrude Stein, Scott & Zelda Fitzgerald, Ernest Hemingway, Cole Porter; the list goes on. Sure, some of these references become a little too obscure or possibly little too pretentious, and the film itself might be a tad slight, but it's hard not to fall under Allen's spell. This is bouncy, cheerful filmmaking that's still grounded in a life-affirming moral - the past always looks better in hindsight, always shimmers with the haze of nostalgia; there's a necessity in appreciating the glory of the present without losing the magic of what's gone. Allen's been dolling out duds since Vicky Christina Barcelona, and it's lovely to see his signature style paint a story that will make you feel weightless. B

The X-Men franchise is technically the monster the began the whole superhero obsession, hitting a year before Spider-Man. And with Brett Ratner derailing the original trilogy, it was smart to turn back to an origin story. The greatest feat in this film, swathed by funky 60s vibes and a filming aesthetic by Matthew Vaugh to match (many film critics referenced a harkening back to early Bond), is the casting. James McAvoy and Michael Fassbender, young incarnations of Professor X and Magneto, are wonderfully matched, giving their sparring the necessary emotional weight and thrill. If you didn't know Fassbender before, you'll know him now; he gives a truly star-making turn in his first big blockbuster lead, dripping with intensity and passion; honestly, the only weak link in the ensemble is January Jones, using her villain Emma Frost's chilly demeanor less as a character choice and more like an inability to move her face (at least she has great cleavage!). The film is soaked a little too deeply in its campy tones, but it raises the franchise back to the heights of the original. My biggest personal problem come from the fact that the characters have 20 years from the end of First Class till the beginning of the original trilogy, but aren't given much space to grow. Sure, I may be nitpicking the mythology, but as a fan, everything is in the details. B+

Super 8 + The Tree of Life

J.J. Abrams, the wunderkind best known for Lost and the Star Trek reboot, has done it again with Super 8. The film is a rich nostalgia trip to the Spielberg (who cops a producing credit here)/Amblin films, evoking most unabashedly E.T. and The Goonies; the movie thus far has been overshadowed by the film's marketing campaign, which placed a shroud of mystery over the entire production. It would have been smarter to build the campaign around the perfectly cast clan of children attempting to film their own low-budget zombie picture (stay during the credits), led by adorable newcomer Joel Courtney and the future superstar Elle Fanning. I'll give no spoilers here about the monster mystery Abrams has held very close to his chest, but the film is equal parts moving testament to childhood wonder and thrilling blockbuster; Abrams mixes the two wonderfully - the child actors give the film a giddy momentum (with wholly individualized quirks and hilarious quips), but they also carry off the emotional scenes with understated power and strength. It's hard for me to imagine someone disliking Super 8 if they had a childhood at all, let one one peppered by some of Spielberg's classics from the 70s and 80s; so much unbridled glee runs through this film, a celebration of what summer blockbusters once were. Abrams has pieced together a gleeful summer flick, the sort of perfectly executed slice of sci-fi escapism that's also rooted in very real feelings and family relationships. Super 8 is the kind of movie that's hard to find in summers now populated by Michael Bay movies - this is a endlessly entertaining ride that thankfully has a healthy heart at its center. A-

The thought of reviewing the two-and-a-half-hour epic fragmented existential searching in The Tree of Life is daunting. Anyone accustomed to Malick's previous work will know that he takes a lot of patience, but if you can stick it out, the journey of this tedious film is gloriously rewarding. This is not an experience for everyone, and by no means a perfect film, but I can't shake the awe-inspiring ambition. The broken narrative in Tree of Life centers on a family in the 1950s, opening with tragedy before flipping back to the family's first moments... However, Malick rewinds all the way to the beginning of the universe, in a bizarre segment that shows swirling nebula and the arrival of dinosaurs; the stunningly gorgeous cinematography brings to mind Kubrick's 2001: A Space Odyssey. Placing the cosmic on the same plane as the intimate presents a interesting challenge as Malick wrestles with the origin and meaning of life, nature vs. nurture, faith vs. science. The story is told mainly in whispered voiceovers, and pure image used to capture feeling and essence. Every actor is stripped raw, from Bad Pitt's intense passion and Jessica Chastain's quiet grace to the stunningly realistic performances of the three young boys that play their sons. Every scene flares up before drifting away, a poem that will either enthrall or absolutely drive you away. Malick presents his search to understand love, fear, memory, hope, family, and awakening like a slow wave of glory, messy and terrifying and strikingly different. A narrative frame shows the oldest son Jack (Sean Penn), now an adult, dealing with the products of his childhood; it's in these final moments that Malick reveals the full sprawl of his piece, connecting the intricate moments to the ragged whole. It's daunting, self-indulgent, pretentious, staggering, emotional, flawed, beautiful - it's a lot like life itself. A

Film Review: Bridesmaids

It's a standard comedic trope to throw together a cast of wild guys, send them out on an outrageous adventure, and watch hilarity ensure. After the huge success of The Hangover in 2009 (the sequel coming later this summer), it's no wonder someone thought up the female equivalent with Bridesmaids, produced by "guy comedy" mastermind Judd Apatow (maybe that title should be reevaluated after Funny People...). What's endlessly refreshing, however, is that Bridesmaids isn't just a cheap duplication of a male-centric brand, or the countless bridal chick flick shlock - this is more akin to a reinvigoration, taking the redeeming qualities and running. Written by Kristen Wiig (more on her later) with Annie Mumolo (she also has a cameo as a frenzied airplane passenger), and directed by Paul Feig (he's done a lot of television work, from Arrested Development to Nurse Jackie), Bridesmaids is full of bold comedic gold, but also proves to have a lot more under the surface.

The plot is standard enough - down-on-her-luck Annie (Wiig) is called to be maid of honor for her newly engaged best friend Lillian (Maya Rudolph - I'm a huge fan); the bridal party is filled out by a group of mismatched ladies as the road to the altar becomes incredibly shaky (surprise!). Beyond her duties to Lillian, Annie also has her own set of issues to work out, starting from the very opening scene with oversexed douchebag Ted (Jon Hamm, reveling)... Melissa McCarthy gives a knock-out, laugh-cry performance as the groom's sister Megan, and Rose Byrne gleefully sinks her teeth into the role of beautiful bitch, and Lillian's new friend, Helen. However, the movie undoubtedly belongs to Kristen Wiig, who shows she's so much more than just a late-night character actress; her career beyond SNL is bound to be top A-list stuff if she keeps this up, as it's hard not to bask in a performance that truly shows off a star. Both hilarious and heartfelt, Wiig digs into Annie's emotional depths and subtitles as much as her giant laugh moments; she carries the film with ease, gracefully supported by a killer cast. It's one of the best, most layered comedic performances, male or female, in a long time.

What makes Bridesmaids such a winning endeavor is this perfect blend of big laughs with pathos. These actresses are fully committed, unafraid to push limits, especially in a deliriously funny gross-out scene while dress shopping (the airplane sequence, mentioned earlier, is my favorite part of the movie). But beyond the comedy, Wiig and Mumolo's tight script never forgets to establish fully realized characters and deep emotional resonance. Annie is facing problems she can't escape, rooted in her overwhelming loneliness - beneath a lot of her laughter rests a searing sadness; Wiig mines the careful balance between the two to find a winning protagonist in the severely flawed Annie. It's touches like these that raise Bridesmaids above forgettable comedic fare, and into the territory of a true film. Bridesmaids has a lot of heart, exploring the limits of friendship, trust, personal happiness, and love. Sure, the third act indulges in a few genre cliches, but the entire thing still feels fresh, that elusive giddy comedy magic. Every scene develops these characters, and it only helps that the entire cast deliver their jokes with such doubtless verve and undeniable chemistry. Now, what are the names of the guys in The Hangover again...? A

Spring Roundup: Quick-Take Reviews

Everyone knows winter is a rough time to see movies - studios dump films they already believe to be under-performers in January and February. Yet, as the weather finally warms up, studios start taking chances with spring releases, letting some interesting features out before the big summer tent-pole blockbusters overwhelm the market. Below are the four films I saw over the past week and a half, with umm relatively short blurbs (for me at least). Enjoy - hopefully this marks my official return to maintaining this blog with a passion. Whew.

Director Joe Wright, know for his gorgeous adaptations of both Pride & Prejudice and Atonement, crosses into a new genre with Hanna while still maintaining his lush style and long takes. The script for Hanna topped Hollywood's famous Black List in both 2006 and 2009, with Danny Boyle and Alfonso Cuarón once attached; what's interesting about Wright is that he brings his expertise in the visual language of romance to this flashy action piece. Saoirse Ronan (an Oscar nominee for Atonement) plays the titular character, a teenage assassin-warrior, raised in the wild by her gruff father (Eric Bana) to target the mysterious Marissa Vigler (Cate Blanchett). What follows is a gripping thrill ride, thankfully touched with a few graceful moments of humor and a commentary on the bombarding stimulus of modern society. With strands of Grimm's fairy tale lore interspersed throughout, and including elements of a modern Little Red Riding Hood, it's the most beautifully unique and badass revenge thriller that's been released in a while, as Wright has constructed a film touching both indie and blockbuster sensibilities; throw in a stunning score from the Chemical Brothers pulsating over the entire experience, and all of the pieces add up to make Hanna resemble an edgier, and more interesting, spin away from the world of Bourne Identity. B+

Possibly the most interesting aspect of the latest adaptation of Charlotte Brontë's Jane Eyre is the restructuring of the plot to create a frame narrative for Jane's journey, opening the film as Jane flees from Thornfield Hall; however, interesting doesn't necessarily mean successful - it's perhaps a way to give strength to the empowering elements of the tale, and the search for the definition of personal freedom, but it also gives the film a bit of an oddly uneven gait as the period pierce unfurls. The film works because it's two leads bring incredibly strength and endless chemistry - Mia Wasikowska, who's immense talent reminds me of a young Claire Danes, might steal the title as the definitive Jane, fully embodying the character's taut sensibility and perfect saintly poise throughout her own struggles; Michael Fassbender, while far too attractive to be playing Rochester (that could never be a legitimate Hollywood dilemma, unless you're a Brontë purist...), fills the role with the the perfect mix of charm and coiled rage necessary to go to bat with Jane. Whenever the two are together, the screen is ablaze, especially because its in these moments that the tight script hues as close as possible to Brontë's magnificent language. Still, Wasikowska owns the film, and director Cary Fukunaga's gorgeous minimalist style makes sure to always remind that this is, indeed, Jane's story, sweeping romance and all. B+

It's been a full decade since the Scream franchise finished its trilogy with a weak, atrocious limp of a film (can we just forget Scream 3 ever happened?); it's no wonder that horror mastermind Wes Craven and screenwriting parter Kevin Williamson wanted to head back to Woodsboro. Thankfully, Scream 4 (Scre4m...?) is the best entry in the franchise since the original, untouchable Scream. The plot follows Sidney Prescott's (Neve Campbell, positively glowing) return to her hometown right as Ghostface starts killing again, targeting his original victims along with a new generation of Woodsboro teens, centered around Sidney's niece Jill (Emma Roberts). Craven and Williamson have returned to what made the first two films so much fun - the seamless blend of witty self-reflexive humor, genuine thrills, and a sprinkling of giddy camp. Among the new entries to the franchise, Hayden Panettiere surprisingly packs the biggest punch as Jill's friend Kirby, game to carry off both her easy jokes and tense screams with heaps of charisma; it helps that she's given one of the film's best scenes, a nice homage to Drew Barrymore's iconic opening (and my favorite from any horror movie). This film's opening, following the classic structure of kicking things off with a murder, sets the film's tone in wonderful style, and the finale packs some great twists, even if the actually ending is a little drawn out and ludicrous. It's disappointing to see the weak reviews, and box office numbers, hurled at Scream 4 - with the recent torture porn crave in the horror genre, everyone seems to have forgotten what made the Scream franchise such wicked fun in the first place. B

Water for Elephants's centers on the torrid love triangle between young vet Jacob Jankowski (Rob Pattison), horse performer Marlena (Reese Witherspoon, who's never looked better as a Jean Harlow bombshell) and her husband, circus owner August (Christoph Waltz). Pattison, doing his best James Dean caricature, plays the role with appropriate awkward sensitivity, and ascends his throne as a true heartthrob (it helps that he's not in goopy vampire makeup). However, Witherspoon's Marlena is missing firebrand power, and Waltz's August, a mixture of two characters from the novel, comes off more as cartoon villain than haunted human (more the script's fault than Waltz's performance); the best presence here is arguably that of Tai, as the elephant Rosie, bringing out the best in her costars. Unfortunately, the chemistry between Pattison and Witherspoon simply doesn't exist; their romance doesn't bring the wild heat needed to hold the film together. While director Francis Lawrence fills his shots with breathtaking beauty, Sara Gruen's novel showed a gritty realism about circus life and the Depression that scratched through the romance and joy; this translation is washed in stunningly glossy cinematography, but could benefit from a little more of the book's wild grunge. Water for Elephants plods along from scene to scene, missing the true heart that gave the novel so much power. D

Quote of the Day

I like crazy people.
-Rob Pattinson, to Vanity Fair

Oscar Hangover: Best Dressed

Plain and simple, no explanations, just the countdown - each name on the list is a link to an image (if you need a reminder or further dress scrutinizing)... If you don't agree, feel free to yell at me. Or something. I thought these ten women were the most beautiful of the evening, dressing it up like A-list stars should on Hollywood's biggest night.

10. Gwyneth Paltrow (in Calvin Klein)
9. Halle Berry (in Marchesa)
8. Mila Kunis (in Elie Saab)
7. Reese Witherspoon (in Armani Prive) 
6. Hailee Steinfeld (in Marchesa)
5. Natalie Portman (in Rodarte)
4. Michelle Williams (in Chanel)
3. Jennifer Lawrence (in Calvin Klein) 
2. Anne Hathaway (in Valentino) 
1. Cate Blanchett (in Givenchy) 

Aaand Worst Dressed? It's a tie - Nicole Kidman and Melissa Leo!

Oscar Hangover: Telecast Notes

The 83rd Academy Awards have come and gone, and now I have to wait another 364 days until my favorite night of the year. Sigh. As excited as I was for all the glitz and glamour, the telecast itself was a little underwhelming. I'm going to place that blame on the hosts, as well as the fact that the acting awards seemed like foregone conclusions at this point. While Anne Hathaway and James Franco had moments (their opening video was downright hilarious), the rest of the evening fell a little flat. Some jokes hit, but most got lost in the tension between Anne's goofy enthusiasm and James' possibly drug-induced aloofness. Anne gets points for sheer energy (but detracted by the fact that almost all of her jokes felt awkward and forced), while James gets them for his wonderful facial expressions; still, the young Hollywood beauties didn't inject the show with the lighthearted banter producers seemed to be banking on. The telecast either needs better comedic writers, or a comedian host. Simple as that. Also, this year's telecast did not click with young viewers, as numbers were down from last year (the Avatar effect?)...

The night had it's share of highlights - Kirk Douglas's amazing introduction of the Supporting Actress nominees (possibly my favorite moment); Melissa Leo dropping the big f-bomb during her acceptance speech; classy and elegant (if lacking a bit in gushing emotion or inspiration) speeches from Christian Bale, Natalie Portman, and Colin Firth; winning remarks from writers Aaron Sorkin and David Seilder; (most of) Anne Hathaway's dresses; Cate Blanchett saying "That's gross" about the Best Makeup clip for The Wolfman; THAT BEAUTIFUL STAGE; the Oscars history lesson (that first Gone With the Wind segment almost had me sobbing); Inception nearly sweeping the technical awards; an incredible clip of auto-tuned numbers from films throughout the year; Robert Downey, Jr, showing (once again) why he should host at least the Golden Globes; Tom Hooper's lovely anecdote about his mother finding the inspiration for The King's Speech...

Speaking of The King's Speech, bravo to the Brits! Following this victory, I'm seriously peeved over news that the Weinstein Company is planning on releasing an PG-13 version of the film, editing out a vital part of the film involving a lengthy string of expletives from (Oscar winner) Colin Firth. And while I would have liked to seen the more daring and timely The Social Network win (though Black Swan will always have my heart from 2010), the Academy loves an impeccably fashioned film like The King's Speech; I just wish the voting would have learned towards something a little different than the Academy's regular taste. However, it is egregious that Tom Hooper won Best Director over David Fincher! HOW DID THAT HAPPEN? Dave, your Oscar will come soon enough! Don't cry! Plus, the proper demeanor of the producers accepting the Best Picture trophies left me cold; I wanted Helena Bonham Carter to scream something crazy and drown out the boring British blabber. Your marvelous film just won! Give me some flavor.

There seems to be a lot of moaning and gnashing of teeth over how boring the show was, but I learned a valuable lesson - it's all about the company you keep on Oscar Sunday. While my Oscar "shindig" only consisted of three people (including myself), I had an absolutely wonderful time, and it ended up being my favorite Oscar watching experience in years. Just because the telecast isn't living up to your wildest dreams doesn't mean it needs to be a dull night. Big ol' DUH. Finally, as Steven Spielberg demonstrated before announcing Best Picture, sometimes the film that lives on in history is not that big winner on Oscar night. It stood as a brief reminder how incredible 2010 was for film, from inspired performances to brilliant directors and truly remarkable works of art. Hollywood put out this year; hopefully 2011 follows up with some equally awe-inspiring material.

All of the Oscars winners are listened on the show's official site, here - http://oscar.go.com/nominations

Pre-Oscar Roundup: Quick Take Reviews

After a long break from this blog, for numerous stupid reasons, I am officially back! And since nothing is more glorious than Oscar Holy Week, the timing is no coincidence; hopefully I hurl out as many posts as possible before Sunday night arrives. As I've neglected to write reviews for the last four Oscar nominated films I've seen (one being the Big Kahuna), here are "short" (for me?) blurbs to slap down my thoughts.

Tom Hooper's royal British biopic The King's Speech, about King George VI's infamous stutter and the looming threat of WWII, is a meticulously constructed film - it's both emotional crowd-pleaser and highbrow piece of history. Nothing more needs to be said about Firth's perfect performance at this point, which will surely win him his first Oscar some February 27th; Geoffrey Rush and Helena Bonham Carter are also both stupendous, poised and passionate (some critics think they have a chance of winning if love for King's Speech is strong enough for a clean sweep)... However, I'm not as enchanted as most are. Every element of the film seems to be pushing for awards season victory, and some of that effort is too apparent on screen. And if we're talking big British biopics, I'm not sure I liked The King's Speech more than The Queen from 2006 . Mainly, I think Hooper's film is too safe to win the Picture, especially in a year when filmmakers are creating work as brave and bold as Black Swan and The Social Network. I was possibly colored by the film's insane buzz coming off of the festival circuit, but I was expecting a film with more punch. It's a strong and inspiring cinematic story... but still safe. B+

True Grit, which goes back to the original Charles Portis' 1968 more than the 1969 film adaptation, is the Coen Brothers shooting straight; in comparison to their last "Western" No Country for Old Men and last year's passion project A Serious Man, True Grit follows more old school Americana conventions. Young "supporting" actress (she's on screen for 99 of the film's 101 minutes) Hailee Steinfeld plays a girl seeking revenge on the man that murdered her father, employing U.S. Marshal Rooster Cogburn to help in the hunt. The fact that Steinfeld is nominated for an Oscar, let alone in the wrong category, is an absolute travesty. Steinfeld is taking a slot that belongs to another woman, and I can at least name two - The Kids Are All Right's Julianne Moore (why can't she be "supporting"?) and Another Year's Lesley Manville (see below). In comparison to the young lady, Jeff Bridges' winning performance (almost a companion to his turn in Crazy Heart last year) deserves all applause he's received by making the role that won John Wayne an Oscar his own, and doing so in hilarious fashion. While True Grit is a fun ride, one of the most entertaining experience in the theater this Oscar season with some stunning cinematography, I'm getting tired of the Coen Brothers shtick. They might be the Academy's Golden Boys, but I want to see something new. B

Nicole Kidman garnered most of the buzz out of Rabbit Hole, with is based on David Lindsay-Abaire's Pulitzer Prize-winning play (he also wrote the screenplay here). While Kidman certainly isn't at her former glory of Moulin Rouge! or The Hours, it is wonderful to see a glimmer of her acting power return; her face is emoting once again (finally!), but Academy was more interested in seeing the return of an A-list player than honoring this performance with a Best Actress nomination. However, Aaron Eckhart was the actor that gave me more as the grieving father figure; I didn't expect such a powerful and understated performance from him... Unfortunately, Lindsay-Abaire's attempts to expand and update the play fall flat (one of the film's heaviest scenes jarringly uses an iPhone as a central prop), which ultimately detracts from what the play accomplished. In the tried genre of films dealing with the loss of a child, Rabbit Hole has some remarkably moving segments at its core; paired with unobtrusive direction by John Cameron Mitchell, it's impossible not to be moved, especially once Jason (Miles Teller) enters. Nicole Kidman has one scene in a grocery store that bottles how the entire film should feel, and having a little taste of what the film could have fully tapped into amplifies the disappointment. There's too much distracting elements on the periphery. C


I love a director who can make a quiet gem of a film that still packs a punch (also see this year's Winter's Bone), and Mike Leigh achieves that brilliantly with Another Year. Leigh, known for little British films like Vera Drake and Happy-Go-Lucky, is nominated for Best Original Screenplay this year, and Another Year serves as a wonderful example of how to balance moods and characters. The film's structure, separated into four chapters (one for each season), is slightly cliched, but Leigh makes the frame work with attention to subtle shifts in tone over gratuitous weather shots. The narrative also sags a little in the middle, mainly because Lesley Manville's Mary is absent; while the ensemble is full of gifted British thesps, Manville explodes, giving one of my favorite performances the year (it's a huge shame that she isn't even nominated for Supporting Actress). Another Year shows the everyday activities and relationships of a middle-class "family," anchored by the happily married Tom (Jim Broadbent) and Gerri (Ruth Sheen), but illuminated by Mary's manic insecurities. It's depressingly beautiful, and Leigh slowly builds emotional tension, waiting until the final chapter to truly unleash a difficult tone between dark humor and true tragedy; the film's last shot rivals Black Swan as the most breathtaking finale of the year. A