Quirky Teen in Wales

The oddly titled "Submarine" tells the tale of Oliver Tate is a boy growing up in Wales in the mid-1980s who sports a shaggy haircut that makes him look like he just stepped off the cover of a 1960s record album. He also looks Bud Cort from "Harold and Maude, " a nice bit of serendipity since the movie is so reminiscent of Hal Ashby's classic. Replace Cat Stevens songs with new numbers from Arctic Monkeys-frontman Alex Turner, make the romance age appropriate, and you've got a pretty good idea what"Submari" is all about. Which is to say that it is a good movie that never quite transcends its influences.

Twenty-year-old actor Craig Roberts takes the lead as Oliver, an imaginative adolescent with adolescent concerns: mortality, peer acceptance and girls. Oliver daydreams the movie of his life and then outlines meticulous plans to make those fantasies come true. Dream #1 is Jordana Bevan (Yasmin Paige from"The Sarah Jane Adventures"), a cute gal who likes the occasional mayhem. Oliver will resort to a little bullying to prove to his mettle and win her heart. Despite a strong desire to be different Oliver is influenced by his surroundings. He has attempted many affectations to change other people's perceptions but most of his efforts have been cribbed from old movies and American soap operas. He stares at the sea like a Romantic Age poet because he saw a film that asserted this is what great thinkers do. Still, no big answers seem to come back from the emptiness.

Oliver's young life is complicated by a growing distance between his parents. Sally Hawkins plays the mother, Noah Taylor plays the father. She once wanted to be an actress, but now works in government administration; he is a marine biologist whose suffers from chronic depression. He describes the mood as being akin to submersion and that is where the movie gets its title.

"Submarine" was adapted from Joe Dunthorne's novel by and is the directorial debut of Richard Ayoade who is better known as an actor, particularly his role as Moss on the British sitcom "The IT Crowd."  The aforementioned "Harold and Maude" and the works of  Wes Anderson (especially "Rushmore" and "The Life Aquatic") can be seen as influences on the film. The dead pan dialogue, off kilter characters, formalistic framing and quirky voiceover place the film squarely in the minute genre of darkly comedic coming-of-age tales starring morbid teen boys who attempt to act above their age. It doesn't reach the heights of those earlier efforts but it is the first attempt from a talented new director.

Director Richard Ayoade on location

Dark Irish Comedy

Gleeson enjoys an actor's life

A typical Hollywood formula is to combine a white guy and a black guy with completely different personalities, add a murder mystery that needs to be solved or drug smuggling ring that needs to be busted up, have the pair bond over some explosions, sprinkle with witty quips and sit back as the masses storm the multiplex. Now writer/director John Michael McDonagh has taken that brew, given it an Irish twist, and created one of the best comedies of the year.

Featuring great turns by its stars, terrific chemistry between its leads and an unorthodox approach to a familiar set-up, "The Guard" is a hilarious politically incorrect comedy with heart.  The story centers on Sergeant Gerry Boyle (Brendan Gleeson), a police officer who serves in the West of Ireland. Upon learning that a team of three international drug smugglers (Mark Strong, Liam Cunningham, David Wilmot) are in town, Boyle is forced to team up with an FBI agent named Wendell Everett (Don Cheadle) in order to bring them to justice. Though initially Boyle is more concerned with "whoring and drinking" he and Everett are unified against a wave of corruption, bribery and blackmail. 

The greatest reason for the film’s success is the pairing and dynamic between Gleeson and Cheadle. Because their characters are so deftly written and layered, all aspects of Boyle and Everett’s personalities bounce off each other perfectly without ever feeling like a tired retread. From Boyle’s casual racism to Everett’s wealthy upbringing; Boyle’s lack of worldliness to Everett’s fish-out-of-water situation, everything about the two is crafted with purpose and wit.  Gleeson is required not only to be a bit of a schlub who, but, thanks to scenes with his dying mother, also a good and responsible man. The range shown in each actor’s performance is absolutely brilliant. The film’s real scene stealer, though, is Mark Strong as a criminal who has become bored by what he does. Strong has been typecast as the stereotypical villain in some major productions and here he shows that he can play deep and complex characters when given the right material.

Some audiences won’t take kindly to McDonagh’s brazen and unabashed approach to comedy, but those that are appreciate irreverent humor and like feeling a little bad when they laugh are going to absolutely love "The Guard."

From the Big Bang to Texas in 138 minutes.

Terrence Malick's latest opus "The Tree of Life" has split movie going audiences into two camps. The walkouts who have little patience for the type of arty, obscure film-making on display and the excessively appreciative acolyte who thrill to have a reprise from the summer mindless blockbuster.   

The story is simplicity itself, something that is perhaps obscured for some by the nonlinear approach. what appears to be its alien approach: Architect Jack O’Brien (Sean Penn) experiences the anniversary of his brother’s untimely death with considerable anguish and difficulty, as seen through a series of reveries that puts him in touch with memories that connect him to the origins of life itself even as he is drawn back to recalling specific episodes from the days of his uneasy childhood in 1950s Texas.His father (Brad Pitt) is a difficult man to love, as he is strict disciplinarian, demanding perfection in every task.  Jack's mother (Jessica Chastain) is the parent he and his two brothers find much easier to adore, as she is nurturing, forgiving, and generous.

Young Jack (Hunter McCracken) is a boy we see growing to resent the treatment he receives from his father, even as he begins to suffer the consequences of it by becoming more and more like him every day. His father tells him “you can’t be too good” to succeed in the world, and as the boy appears to move towards embracing that advice against his own better judgment, he becomes still more aware of how the opposite nature of his mother continues to “wrestle inside” his heart.

 

Malick makes a concerted effort as the film unspools to break down some of the barriers of what we would normally think of as the natural progression of a story’s time line, so that towards the end of the film, past, present, and future all appear to be engaging one another in gestures of deep recognition and awareness. Some viewers have interpreted the key scene where this happens as Malick’s vision of the “afterlife,” but there are sequences that follow that clearly indicate—at least to me—that it is instead the moment of spiritual catharsis that adult Jack’s memories and internal suffering have been building toward through the entire film.

If this story sounds very traditional, it should, because it is. It has to be, in order not to interfere with what I took to be Malick’s genuine purpose, which is to ask the viewer to not become just emotionally involved, but to thoughtfully interact with the religious and philosophical matters of his concern.

 

Opening with a Biblical quote pertaining to God’s response to Job (which we will read very easily as analogous to the experiences of every character), Malick then offers us an opening voiceover that is 100% the key to understanding everything that is to come:

 

There are two ways through life: the way of Nature, and the way of Grace. You have to choose which one you'll follow. Nature only wants to please itself. Get others to please it too. Likes to lord it over them. To have its own way. It finds reasons to be unhappy when all the world is shining around it. And love is smiling through all things. Grace doesn't try to please itself. Accepts being slighted, forgotten, disliked. Accepts insults and injuries.

 

To be just a little reductive, allow me to spell it out: Nature = Brad Pitt, Jack’s Dad.  Grace = Jessica Chastain, Jack’s Mom.

 

Jack, as the adult child of these warring influences, struggles to choose the proper path that will help him to cope with the loss of his brother and reconcile his complicated relationship with his father. The Job passage makes clear that this dialogue is taking place between the characters (through not just Penn, but through Pitt, Chastain and McCracken) and their concepts of God, which is how the creation footage is brought into play.The footage mostly takes shape in an extended sequence that includes the Big Bang, the heaving volcanoes,  the evolution of cells and the much talked about appearance of dinosaurs. The viewer is meant to extend the nature vs. grace argument through Jack's parents and to the difficulty with the paradox in the concept  of a Supreme Being who appears both all-loving and indifferently cruel. Jack's parents are his creators. Within him the paths of nature and grace are jockey for lead position, both exert influence over him. Malick's film uses the simplest of stories to convey the largest of questions.The characters are demanding - sometimes literally, sometimes through suggestion and symbols - How? Why? Answer me. 

 

The film's technical achievements are beyond reproach.Emmanuel Lubezki's cinematography is the front runner for this year's Academy Award. The performances are quality (Pitt is effective as always, Chastain does wonders with little dialogue, the children are delightfully unaffected, naturalistic.) Not every choice please me; Penn's screen time seemed too minor, given it's his dlemma that we are initially believe will be the spine of the film. I should admit that I first thought the final shot - don't worry I won't spoil anything - to be shockingly banal, only to realize a short time later just how appropriate it really was, and how Malick lets the audience know, in those final frames, how they might lessen the internal burdens by making a  connection.  

 

Fuller's War

Dramatically terse and unsubtle, even by writer/director Samuel Fuller’s standards, "Verboten!," one of his least-known films, explores the panorama of Germany Year Zero and wields the usual pressurized melodrama with a social and historical conscience-raising purpose that was Fuller's specialty. The film displays Fuller’s strengths and weaknesses as a director. Made on a low budget, full of odd casting choices, curtailed ideas and fragmented story arcs, it still delivers with a force and clarity of intelligence the desired impact few other directors could ever muster, as it charges into the heady atmosphere of the post-War mixture of utter defeat and lingering horror.


"Verboten!" is a rip-roaring little film, and one that looks remarkably good thanks to Fuller’s vivid eye and the technically excellent work of DP Joseph Biroc. His carefully lit, heavily shadowed, deep-focus visuals seem to keep the energy and beauty of noir film alive long after most such intricacy had vanished from Hollywood cinema. Fuller’s stylistic creativity here seems to have had an impact on other filmmakers, especially in his use of classical music throughout, still an uncommon practice at the time. The concussive strains of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony, anticipating its similar usage in "The Longest Day" in establishing the apocalyptic struggle, give way to swooning quotes from Liszt and, most impressively, an electrifying montage of the Werewolves’ crimes and the occupiers’ hunt set to Wagner’s “Ride of the Valkyries,” 20 years before "Apocalypse Now."  Here Fuller’s ironic counterpoint of high culture and down-and-dirty business is at its most vital.

The Original FutureNoir

Blade Runner's influence on modern cinema is incalculable. The look, a mix of futuristic tech and classic noir, has become a touchstone for most science fiction productions. Ridley Scott's attention to detail has never been more apparent than it is here. Even things you would never in a million years would see in the frame were made up and included, just to give an extra level of reality to the piece.

On a technical level, the craft is impeccable. The opening shot, dubbed "the Hades Landscape" by the crew, is a visual marvel: a breathtaking cityscape, with miles of industrial waste vents, spewing flame and smoke, fills your vision. Jordan Cronenweth's cinematography was the best work he ever did, and he was highly regarded by his peers and enthusiasts alike. The contrast of light and shadow is astounding. Cronenweth wasn't afraid to let parts of the frame linger off to black, nor was he worried about having sources for all of his light. Thus we get these gorgeous shots where a beam of light will simply glide across the background of the scene, despite no obvious item in the frame creating that beam. And we never question it. Cronenweth took Ridley Scott's world of detail and turned it into a place with mystique and personality, and it's one of the most masterful pallets in all of cinema.

Perhaps the greatest achievement in Blade Runner is that even with all the visual spectacle, all the focus on the smallest physical details, the emotional backbone of the piece never got lost. In this film, Deckard is the antagonist. Roy Batty and his compatriots have returned to Earth in an attempt to discover a way to extend their four year life span. Deckard's experiences hunting down the Replicants makes him remember his own lost humanity (one of the many reasons why it makes no sense for Deckard himself to be a Replicant, no matter what Ridley Scott says), but that doesn't make his hunt any more noble. When he kills Zhora, you can feel the pain of her ignoble death. All the characters, even minor ones like Gaff, have deep interior lives. Like the visual details, we may not see all of them, but intrinsically we know that they are there, and it adds more depth to the picture, which the audience can feel. While the visuals may draw us in, it's the emotional core that keeps us there and brings us back.

"Blade Runner: The Final Cut" stands as the ultimate representation of Ridley Scott's vision. It's not terribly different from the previously released Director's Cut, as it has neither the narration nor the happy ending. It included the unicorn sequence, which is slightly longer. Some scenes have been shortened for pacing purposes. Shots from the Workprint have been added in, most notably the hockey mask dancing girls. Small snafus, such as wires attached to the Spinners, have been cleared away for this release. Larger mistakes have also been corrected. In all the previous versions (except the Workprint), Bryant gives an incorrect number of escaped Replicants, due to a scene written with a fifth Replicant that was never shot. That has been fixed, along with the obvious Joanna Cassidy stunt double. The sequence where Deckard questions Abdul Ben-Hassan has been fixed so the dialogue matches the lip movements. And the shot where the dove flies away from Batty has been completely redone to keep the visuals of the film consistent. Most of these changes are subtle, thankfully, not drawing attention to themselves or distracting the audience. The cumulative effect, however, is enormous. The world feels more immersive, the emotional impact more powerful. It took 25 years, but now we finally get Blade Runner the way Ridley Scott always wanted. But part of me will always miss the clunky narration.

Some Men Just Want to See the World Burn

The Dark Knight set numerous box office records and has been pretty much universally praised as not only a great super hero movie but one of best films of  2009. In my opinion it was one of the best films of the year and here are a few reasons why.

Some have pointed to the death of Heath Ledger and the fact that this is his final, complete role as a big factor in the Dark Knight's immediate success. While that is certainly a factor in compelling moviegoers to the theaters, I believe it's overplayed as a factor in the overall quality of the film. Yes, Ledger does an amazing job as Batman's greatest foe, playing him as an uncontrollable schizophrenic force of nature - think an amalgamation of Al-Qaeda and Hurricane Katrina, unpredictable, untamable and unstoppable - and it will go down as his final masterpiece. I will admit there is very dark curiosity but the true strength in this film goes beyond any one performance or great performances (and the film has numerous strong turns).

The true strength of The Dark Knight, in my opinion, is the courage of director and screenwriter Christopher Nolan (and co-writer Jonathan Nolan) to treat the Batman mythos once again as adult content, not throwaway cartoon fodder. While Marvel Comics have been successful translating Iron Man and the Incredible Hulk to the screen this summer by creating a shared universe that is equally smart and vibrant, you always felt like you were looking in on this comic book world. You know the good guys are going to win in the end and no one is going to die on the hero's watch. You know there's going to be a happy ending when the film finishes.

The Dark Knight's Gotham City, in comparison, is closer to the real world. It's one step removed from gritty crime dramas like The Departed or Heat with nods to The Untouchables. Nolan has the balls to allow there to be casualties of war in Gotham's battle to bring the Joker to justice. There is a sense of danger throughout the entire film as some supporting characters are killed to get across that the threat is very, very real. In fact after one death the Dark Knight explodes onto an entirely new level unseen by any comic book adaptation. It's as if two films are playing back to back in one marathon two and a half hour viewing.

The Dark Knight is not about a guy dressing as a bat to bring criminals to justice. It's about the actions and repercussions of what happens when one tries to make a stand for what they believe to be right and then dealing with the after-effects of those actions. We all know the pain of Bruce Wayne wanting to avenge the murder of his parents, it's the driving force behind Wayne becoming Batman. This film follows Wayne as he battles different demons - the guilt of taking the law into his own hands and the ripple effects that comes with it - the escalating actions of The Joker, his beloved Gotham City blown half to bits, , and even Batman impersonators he's inspired paying for their Good Samaritan deeds with their lives.

The film isn't afraid to have Wayne ask, "What have I done?" and doubt the life choices he's made because of how they are affecting others. It's OK for Batman to live with the scars tattooing his back but when they begin to spread to the lives of other good people, it's enough to bring chills even to a man who's trying to use fear as his primary weapon against evil. Like every decision in life, there is bad that comes with the good. For the first time on film, the effects of Batman's vigilantism are explored in a mature, realistic way and it adds refreshing depth to the characters.

A lot has and will be written about Ledger as the Joker. However, Christian Bale has taken Bruce Wayne and made him a three-dimensional fleshed out person with strengths and weaknesses unlike any previous take on the character in the film and TV medium. He is driven by his love of his city and wanting to restore it to the glory it once had under his father's watch and is willing to sacrifice his own well being and status as the guardian angel of Gotham to make that reality closer to happening. Bale plays Wayne as half-martyr/half-obsessed over the ends to his means. When Ledger rants on about how close he and Batman truly are during the climax of the film, you realize that for the first and only time in the entire film, Joker is telling the stone-cold truth. Wayne is one step away from losing himself inside his creation, no matter why Batman was created to begin and Joker is the mirror that keeps Wayne from losing himself in his creation. Wh ile all the Academy Award talk is focused on Ledger posthumously, Bale's performance is as strong.

Comic book fans have been ranting and raving about the artistic merits of their chosen medium and how the films shouldn't be dismissed as fanboy popcorn fantasies. The Dark Knight provides the exclamation point for how impressive comic book adaptations can be on film.

Earlier that summer, Marvel Comics may have perfected the idea of using their characters in a shared universe while building to the dream team "Avengers" film for 2012 and brought the concept of comic book films into a higher level, one of the shared universe all comic readers are familiar with and love. Dark Knight, however, raises the bar for what a comic book movie can and should be on an emotional level, not with awesome fight scenes and phenomenal effects (although this film has both in spades), but by focusing on the core of its characters and having the courage to put them into situations that forces them to fear, to breath, to mourn and to overcome, it forces them to be real.

Sure, there are awe-inspiring moments that only come in fantasy films, but the emotional journey of these characters are what drives the Dark Knight. That's what good filmmaking is all about. In this day of Hollywood force-feeding its audiences endless remakes overgorged on CGI technology, it's easy to point out where moviemaking has lost its creative soul. How ironic that one of the most overlooked literary mediums of all time, the comic book, provides an outlet for the return of a legitimate, heart-felt dramatic motion picture.

One can only hope that the excellence of this film is enough to kickstart the long-stalled feature films based on DC Comics' wonderful collection of characters. While Marvel scores time and time again, DC (owned by Warner Bros. no less) never, ever seem get their projects out of the "starting gate". Let's hope this is the moment all that changes and let's hope all future projects are treated with equal amounts passion and intelligence.

If so, let's all they will contain the exact elements that were the true strength of "The Dark Knight" and that an entirely new audience will be introduced to even more truly wonderful characters and stories.

Not Enough Monsters

A simple lesson for future filmmakers: Do not title your film "Monsters" if you choose not to concentrate on the monsters. For some reason, director Gareth Edwards chooses to turn a promising excursion through extraterrestrial occupation into an irritating mumblecore arthouse feature. Edwards has a great directorial eye, but his handling of the love story/flirtation leaves much to be desired.

The film supplies a marvelous introduction for Edwards, a special effects wizard moving into the directorial chair who was just named as director of the upcoming Godzilla reboot.  This film isn't the picture many giant monster fans imagine it to be. Instead of "Cloverfield" destruction or "District 9" conflict, "Monsters" steps back, endeavoring to create a realist backdrop to support his human love story. The lack of monster mashing is a letdown, since Edwards has created some suspenseful sequences when the Lovecraftian creatures do attack.

However, "Monsters" isn't about the creatures, it's about the couple. Scoot McNairy and Whitney Able appear to be limited performers, unable to bring anything to the script that unfortunately tracks their underdeveloped relationship from tentative partnership to googly eyes.  I give Edwards credit for attempting to create some sensitivity to a potentially chilly sci-fi affair, but the effort lacks any chemistry, rendering long stretches of the feature tedious as the twosome bond through banal conversation. 
Aliens are here, but rarely take center stage but when they do Edwards shows great skill is crafting suspenseful sequences. The filmmakers play with the meaning of the title, revealing the beasts to be protective parents while the military blasts away. The creatures are executed solidly, creating memorable images on a tiny budget. The film might have been better as a short, allowing Edwards to trim the fat and intensify his visual storytelling. It's a drifting picture, but sporadically gripping and mysterious at least good enough to help the viewer get past the unmemorable love story.