Posts Tagged ‘Film review’

No Concessions: Spike Jonze’s “Wild Things”

Spike Jonze has given us more pleasure than most other filmmakers, just in smaller doses. Like this:

And this:

And of course this:

A Spike Jonze short film of Maurice Sendak’s pint-sized classic Where the Wild Things Are might have been solid gold. (An animated short was produced in 1973.) But Jonze has attempted a full-length, live-action version, which makes no sense. Then again, on paper, Being John Malkovich (1999) and Adaptation (2002) didn’t make a lot of sense, either, but he and screenwriter Charlie Kaufman conjured movie magic from them. There was hope. (more…)

Film Review: “The Invention of Lying”

the_invention_of_lying_poster[1]It’s very rare for a high-concept comedy to work on a consistent level. Often, the movie is only funny in concept and only contains enough successful jokes to string together an amusing trailer. This is not the case with Ricky Gervais’ (co-creator of The Office) co-directorial debut, The Invention of Lying.

While watching, I couldn’t help but be reminded of the classic Bill Murray comedy Groundhog Day. Both stories involve individuals who stumble upon a special ability and proceed to go through the natural stages any omniscient being might: exploitation for personal gain, assisting those in need, and then, ultimately, solving personal romantic struggles.

The Invention of Lying takes place in a world in which lying isn’t just non-existent, but also completely unfathomable. People tell each other exactly what they think, which leads to some very scathing insults at the expense of Gervais’ character, Mark Bellison. Not only do all the characters treat one another with the most brutal form of honesty, but also advertisements and signage follow the same rule (an honest TV commercial for Coke may be the funniest part of the movie). (more…)

No Concessions: The Value of “An Education”

Hot on the heels of his new novel Juliet, Naked is Nick Hornby’s screenplay for An Education. Though the writer’s name is a selling point for the film (a rare honor for a lowly scribe) don’t expect the pop- and sports-obsessed musings of the movies based on his books About a Boy, Fever Pitch, and High Fidelity. Based on a memoir by Lynn Barber, this one’s about a girl. And what interesting company 16-year-old Jenny (Carey Mulligan) proves to be.

An Education takes place in 1961, just before London started to swing. From the start, the movie is excellent at signifiers: The period production design (Andrew McAlpine), art direction (Ben Smith), set decoration (Anna Lynch-Robinson), and costume design (Odile Dicks-Mireaux) all show a proper, if mildewed, English reserve, and the lighting, by John de Borman, has an uncanny restraint, as if it too is being rationed. Conservatively raised by parents Jack (Alfred Molina) and Marjorie (Cara Seymour), Jenny would seem to be far from the epicenter of the cultural earthquake that would collapse the fifties into the sixties. But she’s a little braver, and more precocious, than her schoolmates, to the occasional dismay of her teacher, Miss Stubbs (Olivia Williams), and the institution’s headmistress (Emma Thompson), who see her as Oxford material.

However, the enigmatic businessman who gives Jenny a ride home one day in his Bristol roadster, David (Peter Sarsgaard), sees her as something else. At least twice her age, and Jewish to boot, David is enchanted by his slightly thorny rose, who is in turn captivated by his stories of Paris and his familiarity with the worlds of art auctions, nightclubs, and racetracks. That David’s business partner, Danny (Dominic Cooper, from Mamma Mia! and The History Boys) and Danny’s girlfriend, the sexy but scatter-brained Helen (Rosamund Pike), are a rougher sort, and that the nature of their business is on the shady side isn’t too worrying. Jenny’s hooked, and so, to her surprise, are her parents, who buy the couple’s white lies, figuring that her association with a worldly type who brags about his friendship with C.S. Lewis can only improve her chances of getting into Oxford. (more…)

Political Culture: Michael Moore’s “Capitalism,” a Don’t-Like-It-Very-Much Story

All the dictionaries in my house are rather old, but I’m pretty sure the following definitions (from the Second College Edition of Webster’s New World Dictionary) still apply:

capitalism: the economic system in which all or most of the means of production and distribution … are privately owned and operated for profit

democracy: government in which the people hold the ruling power either directly or through elected representatives

Among the many, many problems with Michael Moore’s new film, Capitalism: A Love Story, perhaps the most basic is his apparent inability to distinguish between economic and political systems. His conclusion – one he repeated at length on Bill Maher’s show last week – is that we need to “abolish capitalism and replace it with democracy.” It’s a populist idea, to be sure, intended to rouse the (liberal, upper-middle-class) rabble to head directly from the theater to the local Home Depot for torches and pitchforks. But no matter what Moore actually meant – and what he meant is that we need to limit the overwhelming influence that corporations and financial elites currently wield over American life – his message is inevitably lost (at least amongst his decently educated audience) in his nonsensical juxtaposition of capitalism and democracy as mutually exclusive.

Sadly, little else about the scattershot Capitalism: A Love Story makes much sense, either. The film is a jumble of macro- and micro-economic diatribes that fails almost completely to show the link between the collapses and bailouts on Wall Street and the current struggles on Main Street. Moore wants desperately to make us see that link, and to get us angry about it, but he gets no closer than anyone else has to illuminating the complex financial instruments (derivatives, credit default swaps, etc., etc.) that played a major role in the banking catastrophe – or to showing us how they affect the lives of ordinary people through foreclosures, job losses and the like. (more…)

No Concessions: To “Hell” and Back with Sam Raimi

Some horror film directors unnerve us with little ripples of tension that unexpectedly crescendo into waves of terror. Sam Raimi is not one of those horror film directors. Pauline Kael once said that Mel Brooks’ grab-you-by-the-lapels comedy wasn’t necessarily funny; it was the being grabbed by the lapels that made you laugh. So it goes with Raimi: His latest film in the genre, Drag Me to Hell, doesn’t have that much in the way of innovative shocks or surprises, but it’s always head-locking you and screaming “Boo!” in deafening Dolby Digital. “This is fucking stupid,” said the guy in back of me, at a raucous midweek showing. “But it’s kind of fun.”

The Brooks comparison is apt. Young Frankenstein (1974) is one of the very best horror comedies, not that it’s a terribly long list. Raimi doesn’t really make horror comedies, but outside of his killer debut, The Evil Dead (1983), he’s not a straight-up scaremeister, either. I remember the chill of anticipation when I went to see The Evil Dead; Stephen King loved it (back when I hung onto his every word), and it was released unrated, which in itself promised something subversive. I wasn’t disappointed. The infamous “tree rape” sequence was a bit much (his subsequent films have shied away almost entirely from sex—too grownup) but everything else was a satisfyingly scary part of a whole: The funhouse colors, the cranked soundtrack (I can still hear the creepy voices on the tape), and the basic style, a kind of retro-primitive. Plus Bruce Campbell, who came as part of the package (but is not in the new film, having gone from catch-as-catch-can cult star to a steady gig on Burn Notice.) (more…)