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Movie Review: The Artist

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Who would have thought that a modern black and white silent film could be funnier and more entertaining than most films made with sound and color nowadays? Sound might have been improved film, but “The Artist” proves that a step back into silence every once in a while isn’t such a bad thing.

For anyone resistant to seeing a silent film, “The Artist” is only partly one. It incorporates the orchestra that would usually play live alongside a silent film as well as a few incredibly clever sound tricks. “The Artist” is an “I’m big, it’s the pictures that got small” story about silent star George Valentin (Jean Dujardin), with a last name evoking Rudolph Valentino and a mustache and toothy grin evoking Clark Gable. In 1927, Valentin’s Hollywood career is soaring. He stars mainly in action and romantic pictures which usually boast names such as “A Russian Affair” and “A Chinese Affair.” His dog, who is always on his side in both movies and in life, probably plays dead better than most dogs.

Movies are all about those little coincidences that, like a butterfly effect, later have a huge impact. After leaving one of his premieres, Valentin bumps into a fan (Berence Bejo) with a made-for-Hollywood name: Peppy Miller. Her name, and pictures of the glance that the two exchange, is all over the tabloids the next day. In order to get closer to George, Peppy auditions to be a dancer in his next movie. As she gets her start, George teaches Peppy the most important rule in being a successful actor: look distinct.

Around the same time that Peppy becomes a household name, the cigar wielding studio head (John Goodman, perfect for the role) decides that silent movies are out, and talkies are in. George wants absolutely no part in the talkies, and he pays the price for his arrogance. The inside of the studio is shown in one scene as a never-ending staircase in which people constantly walk up, but rarely down, like the Hollywood machine that mass produces movies and stars. Valentin becomes just another piece of unnecessary inventory.

“The Artist” is both a satire of the way movies are made and a movie with the broadest of plots and characters. Archetypes are usually unacceptable to me but here, they are just so lovingly that they actually work. As a movie star, George Valentin has no singular appeal, as he can play both a swashbuckling action hero and a dazzling romantic. These roles only seem to suit him in silent movies, and his fear of speaking makes his attempted comeback all the more difficult.

When the new form of motion picture medium first developed, the early filmmakers were like magicians constantly trying to play tricks on audiences. “The Artist” revives that spirit of visual trickery that is so often missing from today’s movies. Some see 3D as a new form of this. What “The Artist” shows is that the image of a woman putting her arm through a man’s jacket and moving it around can give off the appearance that it is actually someone else’s arm. That didn’t even require a pair of 3D glasses.

“The Artist” plays many more tricks with sound, both silent and audible. With one very subtle yet shocking clank, sound is brought to a silent world. A title card that reads “Why won’t you talk?” could be considered hilarious despite the dramatic nature of the scene that it is placed in. Another card that appears at the movie’s most thrilling moment, which I will not spoil here, will leave you relieved and stunned. You’ll be relieved at what it really means, and stunned as to how easy it is to play with words.

Watching a silent movie is a totally different viewing experience. A silent movie will make even the most casual viewer pay more attention, as actions and gestures are the only things guiding the way. Audiences in the 1920s must have been some of the most engaged moviegoers there were. By bringing together silence and sound, “The Artist” ties the past and present together. Silence might enhance viewing in several ways but in a way, movies were never meant to be silent. After all, every silent movie was accompanied by a live orchestra. A moving image can only go so far.

“The Artist” also uses the silence as a sense of humor. The cue cards, perfect in their font, display dialogue that is both hilarious and thoughtful, and not just plot focused. Writer-director Michel Hazanavicius makes the style fit into every ounce of the overall theme.

Anyone can make a silent movie. The true achievement of “The Artist” is how it gives this old technology a raison d’etre. Some characters were just meant to be seen as silent. Looking past the silent element of “The Artist” is a movie that is funny and entertaining in the most timeless sense possible. The mark of most great movies is that you never want them to end. “The Artist” may be one of the year’s best movies, but its biggest problem is that it begins to lag on in its third act. The darkest portion of the film begins to feel contrived and repetitive after a while, basically bringing down everything the movie had so beautifully built up.


But then, “The Artist” miraculously saves itself in its closing minutes with a few final lines that basically define the entire movie: clever, but not at all snarky. Just as seen in “The Artist,” the Hollywood studio machine churns out an uncountable amount of movies every year. Few rarely stick. Every once in a while, a movie like “The Artist” comes along in which you wish the characters would dance off the screen and into your own lives. Maybe it helps when that machine is French. 


If you liked this movie, you’ll also like: Singin’ in the Rain, Sunset Boulevard, Barton Fink, Modern Times, Citizen Kane, Hugo, Midnight in Paris

Movie Review: War Horse

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The Magic Hour.

Many have remarked that the ending shots of “War Horse” evoke the feelings and beauty captured in the landscape of classic Hollywood films, from “Gone with the Wind” to just about any John Ford western. And rightfully so, as this feels like a movie straight out of another era, the kind that isn’t made so often nowadays. It has the power to move any viewer, but it might just bring the biggest film admirer to tears.

Based on a play which was based on a book (I have not seen or read either), the cinematic version of “War Horse” could not have been brought to life by anyone except for Steven Spielberg. It might seem predictable from start to finish, but there is simply no other way to tell this story.

“War Horse” gets off to a slow start, but even the most impatient moviegoer will want to stick it through. In rural Devon, England just before the outbreak of the first World War, a farmer (Peter Mullan) buys a horse for a price more than it appears to be worth. While his wife disapproves, his son Albert (Jeremy Irvine) is infatuated with the horse, but not in an “Equus” kind of way. The horse, whom Albert names Joey, is small but distinctively beautiful, marked by four white socks on his legs and a large white spot on his face. At first, Joey can barely carry a plough but by the end of the movie’s lengthy first hour, he has plowed an entire field. Joey may be smaller than the others, but he is fast and persistent.

Then comes The Great War and like most men in the area, Joey is enlisted into battle. He comes into the care of Captain Nicholls (Tom Hiddleston, or F. Scott Fitzgerald in “Midnight in Paris”). After losing Nicholls in battle, Joey ends up in the care of the British, the Germans, and at one point, a young French girl. Albert enlists in the war, in hopes of being reunited with his beloved horse.

When it comes to depicting the horrors of war, no one does it better than Spielberg. It is stark realism to the highest, most detailed degree. If “Raiders of the Lost Ark” evoked a young boy playing with action figures in his backyard (as a critic once said), then “War Horse” evokes that young boy who is all grown up, knows history too well, and has sat through every action and adventure movie there is.

There have been few notable movies made about World War I, and the scenes in “War Horse” which take place in No Man’s Land and the trenches could definitely give “Paths of Glory” a run for its money. It looks exactly like the post apocalyptic hell that it should be depicted as. When it comes to unflinching historical accuracy, no one beats Spielberg.

Even when Spielberg fails (and he has before), he never loses his uncanny eye for what elements truly complete a movie. In “War Horse,” every little thing ends up having some sort of payoff. He knows what the viewers wants, but he also knows they shouldn’t have to be cheated in order to get it.

Despite having a lot of plain human characters, “War Horse” makes an indelible impact. It is Joey the horse who truly makes it special. If there was an Oscar for animals, he would surely win it. Having Joey as the main character of this movie is something of a small relief, as it is nice to have a totally silent lead character sometimes, and I don’t mean like Ryan Gosling in “Drive” kind of silent. Since horses can’t speak, they use the purest form of acting: the emotions generated by their facial expressions and body language. You can tell when the horse is in physical pain but the more time you spend with Joey, the more you can see emotions that go below the surface. From Joey it is apparent that every living creature feels the effect of war and loss. Think of it as a minor “Consider the Lobster” effect.

“War Horse” is many things. It is an underdog story, a tragedy, and a love story in one. It displays Spielberg’s great gift of always being able to shine the beacon of hope into the darkest of times. Spielberg gets to end “War Horse” with the big happy reunion he so often likes to conclude with. But here, it doesn’t feel like schmaltz as it did at the conclusion of “War of the Worlds.” It felt much deeper than that, and totally in place.

As many before me have pointed out, shades of “The Searchers,” no doubt a huge influence on Spielberg’s career, can be seen here. As Ethan Edwards stood outside the open doors of the house, feeling isolated and overwhelmed by the burdens of both the atrocities he’s seen and the bigotry he feels, is an outsider not just to normal society but even to his own family. As Joey stands just outside the open gate of the loving family’s estate, he probably can’t help but feel the same way. He is loved and many strangers go to great lengths to save him but he is still an animal who has seen more than any can imagine, and in an instant could be traded from one owner to the next. Even if Albert raised him, he will never have one true master. “War Horse” in a sense, is a western, and Joey is its outlaw.

“War Horse” is also the best looking movie to come out this year. From the red sunset to a shot in which an entire army emerges from a field of tall grass, “War Horse” is like looking at a constantly morphing painting. Despite the horrors of war, the beauty of the natural world does not cease to exist.

“War Horse” is especially different because of the unique perspective it is told from. It shows that when war breaks out, everybody feels the consequences. It takes a series of contrived coincidences and two and a half very speedy hours to arrive at this point, but when a movie is able to suspend you from disbelief during its entire running time and keep you in that state, it has ultimately done exactly what its supposed to do. I cannot justify the poignance I felt once the movie ended, but the fact that this emotional state stuck with me long after the ending credits rolled shows the subtle and outstanding power of this movie. Just as Joey is not some dumb horse, just as “War Horse” is not some war movie.

Movie Review: A Dangerous Method

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Psychoanalyzing the Psychologists

Scorsese has one. Kubrick has one. Cronenberg now has one. The Croneberg stare; in which a character looks into the camera, realizing what they lost is really what they wanted and all they have left to feel is remorse and self-hatred. This happens just seconds before the dramatic cut to black. This is repeated once again in “A Dangerous Method.”

Movies have a funny way of dealing with history. Some praise those movies that remain completely accurate to the facts, and others prefer those that deviate into historical fiction territory. “A Dangerous Method” is a restrained drama that wants to be an intense one and a piece that strives to be totally historically accurate yet deep down, it wants to be an insane piece of historical fiction. 
  “A Dangerous Method” begins at the turn of the 20th century as Carl Jung (Michael Fassbender), a budding star in the psychoanalysis movement, attempts to cure a seemingly incurable patient named Sabina Spielrein (Keira Knightley). Jung’s personality is one that is cold and impersonal, and he doesn’t even look at his patients when he speaks to them. The deeper Jung digs into Sabrina’s child issues, the closer the two become, and the more dangerous their relationship ultimately turns out to be. Let’s just say a touch of S&M is involved. 
While Jung studies and beds Sabina (unbeknownst to his wife), he makes frequent trips to Vienna to visit his friend and mentor, the cigar-chomping Sigmund Freud (Viggo Mortensen). The two construct the foundations of early psychoanalysis but they have differing opinions on it. Freud is purely scientific and Jung is quite spiritual. They clash and talk but mostly, they just talk. 
“A Dangerous Method” is not necessarily a bad movie. It is more like a good movie that missed the mark of greatness that it had the potential for. Oftentimes, this is even worse than a movie that is just bad. Cronenberg is an immensely talented director, especially when it comes to dealing with the darkest depths of human behavior. However, he never really makes movies on a larger scale, and a larger scale is exactly what “A Dangerous Method” could have used. 
I walked into “A Dangerous Method” as a stranger to psychology. The many dialogues between Jung and Freud made me more interested in further exploring the subject on my own. However, it is the subject matter, and not the story created about it, that is so interesting here. It tries to tell too many different stories at once and therefore never effectively completes any of them. Cronenberg seems like he wants to focus more on Sabina, and while she has a twisted and interesting mind, there is much more fertile ground that needs to be explored in the rivalry between Freud and Jung. The movie sometimes feels like a vehicle for Knightley’s turn in a dramatic role. She is effective when she’s not hamming it up and being reminiscent of nothing more than a pirate princess.
But let’s back up to the rivalry between Freud and Jung, and the fact that it doesn’t even seem to exist. In the movie, it is less of a rivalry and more like an extended heated argument that leads to nothing once the steam cools. In one brief sentence, it is revealed that Sabina’s findings go against Freud’s findings on sex and the ego. It is addressed once, and then never brought up again. In another similar incident, Freud tells Jung he will reveal nothing of his thoughts to him as a way of remaining powerful over him. It is a strong moment that should have paved the way for an entirely different movie. Why wasn’t Jung more angry at Freud for this, when Jung knew that some of Freud’s findings were wrong?
“A Dangerous Method” should have taken a cue from a much better film about a rivalry during the birth of the new discoveries during the beginning of the 1900s: “There Will Be Blood.” The rivalry of that movie culminated into something much more horrific and tragic; a boom rather than a whimper. Maybe this story would have benefitted in the hands of a different director and a different writer.
“A Dangerous Method” is saved mostly by the outstanding performances of Fassbender and Mortensen. Fassbender rises to the occasion even with some of the flat dialogue he is given and Mortensen, meanwhile, depicts a tone and voice that are reminiscent of Alex DeLarge, who ironically could have used a serious couch session with Freud. The real star of the movie however, is cinematographer Peter Suschitzky. His stunning camerawork is romantic yet haunting; a mood that most perfectly captures the era. I could see myself watching this movie with the volume off and just being carried away by the imagery.
All of those great parts just feel like fragments. Occasional lines are thrown in here and there to show their importance but then are never brought back to their full extent. “A Dangerous Method” is like watching a very monotonous professor in a very crowded Psych 101 lecture. That is why that stare at the end feels blake rather than thoughtful at the end, as Cronenberg’s previous features (“A History of Violence”, “Eastern Promises”) left so much more to ponder. “A Dangerous Method” consists of many great parts searching for a much better movie to be a part of.   

Movie Review: Heavenly Creatures

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Peter Jackson’s “Heavenly Creatures,” the breakthrough film from the director of “The Lord of the Rings,” might as well be in a genre of its own. Call it fantastical nonfiction. That is, it bridges the great divide between fantasy and a frightening reality that actually occurred.

In 1954, quite, rural New Zealand was shaken by murder. Two teenage girls had murdered one of their mothers in what one could describe as “a crime of friendship.” The two were caught, imprisoned, and later paroled on the condition that they would never see each other again. Jackson did not make a story about the trial but rather about the events that led up to the murder, based on what is true, what is thought to be true, and what can’t be true under any circumstance.

The events of “Heavenly Creatures” take place in and around the small town of Christchurch on New Zealand’s southern island. The two teenage girls, Pauline Parker (Melanie Lynskey) and Juliet Hulme (Kate Winslet) meet in Catholic school. The introverted Pauline is immediately transfixed by Juliet, and how Juliet will talk back to the French teacher without even thinking about it. The two soon become inseparable best friends. They frequently escape into a fantasy world that they created, one that brings them away from their dull, suppressed lives. The fantasy starts to become too real and while the girls are present physically in reality, they are mentally gone.

After feeling that their friendship is becoming unhealthy, Pauline and Juliet’s parents make the decision to separate the two of them. The separation does no good and instead drives the pair into bouts of insanity. They ultimately hatch a sinister plan to be together forever, one that, even they admit, could only end in tragedy.

“Heavenly Creatures” is a movie of many questions, and many frightening possibilities. The whole story is one giant question about who the driving force of insanity here is. Were Pauline and Juliet naturally troubled, or were their descents into insanity caused by their separation? In a society that stressed conformity and deemphasized creativity, perhaps madness and fantasy were the only means of escape. However, this in no way justifies the terrible actions carried out in the film’s terrifying finale.

A driving force in the narrative of “Heavenly Creatures” is the widely circulated rumor that the two girls in question were lesbians. This is not played for an exploitative purpose, or to create controversy, but rather it serves as a lens into the psyche of these two teenage killers. Could physical love have explained why they were so inseparable, and why they so despised both the religion and the adults who raised them?

“Heavenly Creatures” is one of the great underappreciated gems of the 1990s. Jackson showed the ability of a director who would soon be able to make great movies on a much larger scale. The fantasy world created in “Heavenly Creatures” is one that seems fake, yet so tangible. The creatures the girls create look like a cross between Play-Doh and those little green toy soldiers. The special effects, while dated by today’s standards, still look impressive for something made outside of Hollywood, and without a blockbuster budget. I can’t wait to see what else the other filmmakers of New Zealand can offer in the years to come.

“Heavenly Creatures” begot not only a great director, but also two great actresses. This was Winslet’s debut role, and from her performance one could see why she would later become an international star and an Oscar winner. She gets so into this role, and she is so sinister yet so innocent at the same time. Lynskey  unfortunately has not achieved the same level of success as Winslet. She has had bit roles in a few very good movies (“Up in the Air”) and a few very good TV shows (“It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia”), but she never achieved real stardom. Her performance here is as subdued and creepy as her character. She acts mostly through her narration and her disgruntled facial expressions and most of the time, you can never tell whether she is about to scream or about to kill someone. Hopefully, Lynskey makes a comeback one of these days.

There have been a lot of scenes of violent cruelty in movies, but few have effected me as deeply as the ending scene of “Heavenly Creatures” did, despite being so quick and so sudden. What creates the impact is that there is 90 minutes of dread building up to it. Like in the ending of movies such as “The Conversation,” making an entire movie based off dread until the very final minutes is ultimately more rewarding. The more you wait, the more horrifying the crime feels. Peter Jackson is a master of suspense in disguise.

“Heavenly Creatures” should be seen for all of the reasons that people watch movies in the first place: to be transferred off to a place they normally wouldn’t be able to go to, to feel sympathy for people we shouldn’t feel sympathy for, and to simply be thrilled. We see both a foreign country in a time few of us would’ve known it in, and a world that exists entirely inside of two girls’ heads. Juliet and Pauline might be murderers, but they are also angst-ridden, isolated teenagers that anyone could relate to. It also shows a director’s admirable mission to painstakingly tell a difficult story right. And tell it right he did.

Movie Review: The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo

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Most filmmakers forget the importance of opening credits. They usually serve to say who made the movie, but they never tell a story of their own. David Fincher never fails to make mind blowing openings. Think of the neurons and brain passages at the beginning of “Fight Club.” When the opening credits for “The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo” finish rolling, you’ll have learned everything you need to know about Lisbeth Salander (Rooney Mara) without even knowing it. It is the intersection of a brilliant filmmaker with a brilliant technological mind, just as Lisbeth is the intersection of a brilliant investigator with a brilliant hacker mind. Welcome to a Sweden without rules.

“The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo” is a thriller that utilizes everything a movie has at its disposal (camera, lighting, music, etc.) to the fullest extent, and thus pulls off the year’s most fully realized motion picture. “The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo” is a triumph of everything. Like its incredibly complex narrative, one piece of the production would not fit in without another.

To outline the entire mystery would take up too much time. To simplify it all would be too hard. However, I’ll do my best to sum it all up. The movie begins after Mikael Blomkvist (Daniel Craig), a journalist from Stockholm, is convicted for ethics violations based on his story on banker Wennerstrom (Ulf Frieberg, who looks eerily similar to Julian Assange). The trial costs him both his reputation and his life savings. Escape comes in the form of wealthy patriarch Henrik Vanger (Christopher Plummer) who wants to hire Mikael to investigate his own family.

Vanger brings Mikael to his home, which is chillier and more isolated than even The Overlook Hotel. Vanger asks Mikael to find his missing niece Harriet, whom he believes was murdered 40 years prior. In his long, tedious investigation, Mikael finds a family that is even more deranged than the average dysfunctional family. Neo-Nazis may be the least of his problems.

Mikael has a great researcher’s mind, but there is something about him, he is submissive and subdued; he can find pieces of the puzzle but he can’t fit them all together. That’s where Lisbeth comes in. Lisbeth is the wunderkind hacker who performed Mikael’s background check for Henrik, and she is hired again to aid in the case. While Lisbeth has a brilliant mind, she is deemed a sociopath by society. While she is an outsider, like God’s lonely woman, she can find out any bit of information on any person by simply clicking a button on her computer. If all of a director’s movies and characters are supposed to exist in the same universe, then she would single handily destroy Mark Zuckerberg of “The Social Network” in a hacking contest, and then probably try and kill him for that comment about comparing women to farm animals.

There is something about being considered the lowest common denominator in society that makes someone able to get away with anything, which is what makes Lisbeth such an effective detective. Thanks to all of her piercings, her distinctive hairstyle, and the tattoo on her back that gives the movie its title, Lisbeth Salander is the year’s most unforgettable movie character.

Mikael and Lisbeth make a great team, as they both serve as each other’s foils. Mikael is a very safe and journalistic detective, while Lisbeth, who already lives above the law, is not afraid to break the rules in order to crack a case. She is the Jake Gittes to his Bob Woodward. As an abused woman herself, and through her actions, Lisbeth serves almost as both a protector and a crusader of the independence of all women. It is no wonder this case takes on special interest to her, as it involves catching a killer of women.

Craig delivers a stone-faced performance as Mikael Blomkvist. However, he is not quite an action hero here, he is more of a civilian, and his fear in the face of danger is not like the Bond we’ve seen him as. While I sometimes had trouble believing that he was Swedish, his timing in certain situations makes me believe that he would make a great comedic actor.

Mara, meanwhile, delivers a flawless performance that will merit her an Oscar nomination, if not a win. It is a stunning transformation from her role as sweet Erica Albright in “The Social Network.” Here, she creates an indelible performance using silence and actions over words. For what she goes through at the beginning of the film and everything she must bare, this is a brave performance. The way she responds to her rapes is that of someone who is both hardened and incredibly emotionally scarred. Mara brings out both features in the character throughout, making Lisbeth feel more heroic than sociopathic to me.

The movie’s final shot, showing her riding off on her motorcycle alone while everyone else around her is warm in the Swedish winter with company, evoked the endings of so many great westerns to me. In this day and age, the hacker is America’s new outlaw, and she is the queen of the new age isolated cowboy. The ending is not so much a plot cliffhanger as a character one. I cannot wait to see the next movie not just because of the story, but because I will get to see more of these characters, learn more about them, and spend more time a part of their lives.

It is hard to take a novel that is already so popular on its own and make it a unique movie. I admit I have yet to read any of Stieg Larson’s Millenium Trilogy, but I plan to pick up the novel version of “The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo” as soon as possible. Fincher shows that there was a reason to adapt this novel to the screen. It is not just some regurgitation. While the movie perhaps moves a little too fast towards the end, it is only for the reason of fitting in as much of Larson’s original story into the first movie as possible.

The atmosphere created by the film is a master class example of how to turn setting into a character, and how to use it to build suspense that holds for over two and a half hours. The snowy landscapes, combined with Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross’s mood building score, which begins with Karen O’s shrieking cover of Led Zeppelin’s “The Immigrant Song,” will leave you a state of panic and thrill for the entire running time. Hitchcock would have been proud.

The team behind this movie, Fincher, Reznor, Ross, writer Steve Zallian, and producer Scott Rudin, is the best new team of mainstream movies in Hollywood. All of their efforts makes “The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo” come together so spectacularly. It is always a great team, and not just one mind, that can make a truly great movie complete. And the series can only get better from here. Few movies nowadays have the ability to be shocking and controversial. However, “The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo” steps it up another level, and earns its R-rating. And it wears that badge with pride.

If you liked this movie, you’ll also like: Fight Club, The Ghost Writer, Se7en, The Searchers, The Social Network, Chinatown, Memento, No Country for Old Men, Casino Royale, The Shining, Vertigo, Any Ingmar Bergman movie about sad Swedish people in the snow 

Movie Review: Young Adult

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Upon associating the name Diablo Cody and Young Adult Fiction together, the first things that come to mind are words like “yoseph” and phrases like “shut you freakin’ nard, Bard!”. I am not a “Juno” hater like many are, but phrases like these make being hip seem a little bit square. However, upon viewing her latest collaboration with director Jason Reitman, “Young Adult,” I found a writer who is starting to come into her own with her words, and a director who can bring those words to life.  

“Young Adult,” like “Crazy, Stupid, Love,” is a victim of bad marketing. It seems the only way to sell a semi-romantic dramedy nowadays is to make it look bright and predictable. “Young Adult” is two things you’d never expect it to be: ambiguous and unpredictable. 
The anti-hero of “Young Adult,” Mavis Gray (Charlize Theron), is introduced in a position that we find her in during various parts of the movie: sprawled out face down on a bed, hungover, and watching the Kardashians. There is something about watching the miserable lives of people on reality TV shows that makes a people feel better about their own rotten lives. Gray has become a semi-successful writer of a young adult book series. The peak of her book’s popularity has waned. Despite being 37-years-old, she is more like a girl than a woman (if you want to understand the difference watch this).
Mavis comes from the small town of Mercury, Minnesota. She is living the dream of everyone in Mercury, as she has now moved to the big city (Minneapolis that is, or as Mercurians call it, “The Mini Apple”). Maybe it’s because she’s feeling alone, or maybe because she was still a little drunk from the night before, but an email spreading the news about the newborn baby of her high school boyfriend Buddy Slade (Patrick Wilson) sends her packing her bags (including her Paris Hilton-sized dog) back to Mercury. On her journey back, Mavis has thoughts of returning back to her glory days, of being queen of high school again, and winning the happily-married Buddy back. 
It turns out that Mavis is now more of a Queen Bitch and Mercury is a cookie cutter of small town USA. The town she once knew now includes a Staples and a Kentucky Fried Taco Hut. This is how the Canadian Reitman likes to portray America: a land of excessive brand name dross.
Mavis is now the late 30s loser who used to be cool in high school. Pity, the loser usually isn’t supposed to be the protagonist. That is what makes this story more challenging and ultimately more rewarding: the audience must get over their inhibitions and realize that they must find a shred of humaness inside of a character who seems to totally lack it. Cheers to “Young Adult” for making us stick with a character who is unlikable from start to finish.
The more time spent in Mercury, the less this feels like the happy conclusion to a teen fantasy and more like a horror movie in which wounds are opened and then repeatedly stabbed at. While at her favorite bar, Mavis forms an unlikely friendship with Matt (Patton Oswalt), the former high school loser who became partially crippled after falling victim to a vicious hate crime. Matt now spends his days holed up in house, making action figures in his bedroom and distilling bourbon in his garage. He is the kind of person who should’ve gone farther in life than he did. Oswalt’s Matt is the perfect foil to Theron’s Mavis. This is the performance that will earn him the Oscar nomination he should’ve received for “Big Fan.” Not that he isn’t equally deserving of it here. Comedians can be great actors because they tend to wear their emotions on their sleeves. 
But was Mavis’s life so bad, or was she just looking for more problems to have? As she says at one point, her looks made people think she was perfect and impervious to problems. Everyone has baggage and what really matters is how we handle it.  This message is simple and old as time. But Theron’s nuanced, sometimes funny, and sometimes heartbreaking performance, adds a new dimension to it. Living in the best moments of the past is simply a device to obscure something painful. It is the most powerful form of denial there is. And when a few truths are revealed during the painful yet ingeniously written baby naming scene, it feels like Mavis is learning everything at the same time that the audience is. 
Earlier this year, I saw “Bad Teacher” and pondered what a better version of that movie would look like. Well, “Young Adult” is what “Bad Teacher” would’ve been if it actually tried. Making a despicable character the protagonist isn’t necessarily about making them likable enough to give them a pass for their wrongdoings, but rather to make them interesting and three dimensional enough for anyone to want to see what they will do next. It is kind of like watching a train wreck. However, this time, I didn’t want to see the train go off the rails. 
Jason Reitman has always made off-kilter films about characters who make questionable decisions. Whether that be sticking up for tobacco companies, getting pregnant as a teenager, or firing people for a living, Reitman’s four-film winning streak ends not with someone who is bad in what they do for a living, but rather the way they act. With “Young Adult” and his previous feature “Up in the Air,” Reitman begins to turn toward more ambiguous territory; and the more ambiguous he gets, the better his movies become. 
“Young Adult” could have gone the cliche way and portrayed a montage of Mavis turning her life around, probably by working out, walking her dog, and going to an AA meeting, but five minutes is not enough time to fully take in somebody turning their life around. The important thing is not how she turns her life around, if she ever does, but that she has learned the lesson she needed to learn. She was a beautiful fish in an ugly pond. That didn’t earn her love, but rather sorrow.
“Young Adult” won’t put anyone in the cheeriest mood this holiday season. However, there is nothing more reassuring in the holiday season than someone realizing what they should be holding dearest in their life. “Young Adult” is a gift of tough love.  

Everyone Has to Start Somewhere: Who’s That Knocking at My Door

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It is a rarity for even the greatest director to strike gold at the very beginning of their career. Few and far between have broken the amateur barrier (Quentin Tarantino, Sam Mendes, and The Coen Brothers are rare exceptions), but even when they don’t, future greatness can be seen in a scrappy debut effort. “Who’s That Knocking at My Door,” the very first movie made by Martin Scorsese, is not the kind of seamless masterpiece he would late go on to make, but it foreshadows a career steeped in Italian-American culture, New York City, and crushing Catholic guilt.

“Who’s That Knocking at My Door” has all of the signs of a film school effort: blatant symbolism, aimless dialogue, and rough cuts. Indeed, Scorsese began making this movie while he was a student at NYU, and he continued working on it even after he graduated. The then unknown Harvey Keitel stars as J.R., a young Italian-American hoodlum who hangs out with a pretty volatile group of guys, yet that doesn’t stop him from going to church to pay penance.

J.R. is the embodiment of what Scorsese must have been like in those days: he seems to only know what he sees in the movies and what he learns in Church. This basically entails knowledge of every John Wayne movie. To him, “The Searchers” is like another kind of gospel. His dialogue about Wayne is some of the finest, most naturalistic writing in any Scorsese film.

The girl in the movie (Zina Bethune), simply named The Girl, becomes J.R.’s new object of affection, and his love with her ends up testing everything else he holds dear. After their relationship buds, Girl reveals that she was once raped in a chilling flashback sequence that resembles what a filmed version of Joyce Carol Oates’s “Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been?” would look like. As a man loyal to his Catholic background, this makes him question his own faith, and what is really most important to him in his life.

This revelation does not come until very late in this film’s short running time. “Who’s That Knocking at My Door” does not contain the typical kind of plot. Rather than an event inspiring a series of actions that effects everyone, it is instead about an event inspiring a series of emotions that effects just two characters.

“Who’s That Knocking at My Door” might feel inconsistent and messy because it seems less like an attempt to capture a fully realized story on screen but more like someone trying to capture the mixed emotions that make up their life on film. The irony of the sunny, happy-go-lucky music that plays in the credit sequence against footage of a man being beaten shows that this type of aggression was just a way of life where Scorsese grew up. The casual attitude of this scene is still shocking to watch. Meanwhile, playing “Who’s That Knocking?” during the end sequence in the Church as the camera pans around all of the different representations of Jesus makes it feel less like a solemn walk through a holy place and more like a ride at Disney World.

Watching Scorsese’s work on “Who’s That Knocking at My Door” is like watching a diamond in the rough that would soon become one of the f***ing brightest gems in the history of cinema. From it, you can see where the basis of “Mean Streets,” “Taxi Driver,” and “Raging Bull” amongst many others came from. Even “Hugo,” which is about a child who is much more eccentric than J.R. can draw its obsessive conversation about film back to Scorsese’s debut.

Film can be one’s attempt to show what they believe matters most in life and with “Who’s That Knocking at My Door” Scorsese was establishing everything he loves and everything he values. And while his big debut certainly isn’t flawless, we haven’t been able to leave his side since.

Movie Review: Crazy, Stupid, Love

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Marketers and advertisers are supposed to fool us into believing that some product, usually an inferior one, is gold. Sometimes though, they fail to make a superior product look good. Point in case comes with “Crazy, Stupid, Love” a movie that perhaps no one knew how to sell, because it doesn’t at all try to be a part of the genre that everyone wants it to be in. But hey, sometimes lying is the only way to make a buck at the box office nowadays.

In a culture of showing everything and giving it all away, “Crazy, Stupid, Love” surprisingly surprised me, and it pulled off a surprising twist that could make even M. Night Shyamalan blush (is that joke still relevant?). “Crazy, Stupid, Love” has something most comedies could use these days: fully-formed characters. The movie starts off as with Cal Weaver (Steve Carell) and wife Emily (Julianne Moore) out at a restaurant. He asks what they could share for dessert, and the first thing she blurts out is ‘divorce.’

Before any of this is even said, it is already clear what is wrong with this marriage. Cal wears a distinctly beat up pair of white New Balance shoes, and typical rectangular glasses made simply to help him read, and not at all to distinguish him from any other man his age. He has been so lost in his marriage that he just lives to function. So little fight is left in him that when Emily wants to talk about things on the ride home, he simply opens the car door and jumps out in the middle of the road. What he barely got a chance to hear about was that Emily cheated on him with her boss (Kevin Bacon, in a subtletly sleazy role).

Following the divorce, Cal lives a sad sack life, and frequents a hip bar that seems too trendy for someone who doesn’t even know what a trend is. Meet Jacob (Ryan Gosling) who is basically a walking male fashion trend. Jacob is smooth in every sense, and can even casually drop some Yiddish into conversation. Jacob leaves the bar every night with a new woman until one day when he decides to drop everything and take Cal under his wing.

Jacob’s idea of changing one’s life around is a complete change in wardrobe. After disposing his New Balances and throwing on a new suit, Cal becomes Jacob’s clone. This leads him to picking up a series of women, one of them being a teacher (Marisa Tomei) who is just as self-loathing as he is. All the while, Cal’s family makes some other stupid mistakes, and his son Robbie (Jonah Bobo) tries to figure out what love is amongst the madness of divorce.

“Crazy, Stupid, Love” works not because it is the kind of romantic movie in which we are forced to root for a bunch of bad people who one day decide to do something good, but rather it is about a bunch of genuinely good people who sometimes act against their better judgement. Cal and Emily’s divorce made me think of “Kramer vs. Kramer” in its honesty and its ability to not pass down judgement onto its characters. Just as it occurs in reality, every action and every reaction has a purpose in the eyes of each person who carries it out. It has a bit of the he-said she-said mentality, but the movie is really about how their broken love affects a wide range of people, and not just the two of them.

I have been a fan of Steve Carell, since his days as a correspondent of “The Daily Show.” He can make anyone fall in love with even the goofiest characters (Michael Scott, Andy from “The 40-Year-Old Virgin”), but he’s never displayed the kind of range he shows in “Crazy, Stupid, Love.” In past roles was he had to make an unsympathetic character sympathetic and here, he has to do the exact opposite. He excels at this challenge and shows some dramatic chops he’s been hiding. Gosling meanwhile, has more dialogue than he had in both “Drive” and “The Ides of March” combined, yet he displays that same ability to play someone who is almost like a blank slate with one defining quality (driving, political knowledge, and here, clothes). He is described at one point as looking “photoshopped” and indeed, he makes Jacob look photoshopped. His transition into relationship man is surprisingly believable, with an extra thanks to Emma Stone, who’s importance to the story has a drastic change towards the movie’s end.

“Crazy, Stupid, Love” is the kind of funny that’s quiet and smooth, with each joke not attempting to be a gag but rather just a part of what anyone in the cast would say or do. The surprisingly refreshing script from Dan Fogelman (“Fred Claus”) gives every single character in the ensemble a purpose. Here is a movie that throws away the idea of throwaway characters and subplots. The movie’s only real flaw is a graduation scene final speech that feels a little too calculated, and while the happy ending feels earned, it ties things together too simply, especially with the cynical tone the movie carried throughout. Then again, for everything the characters went through and how they eventually prove themselves to the audience, maybe they deserved this conclusion.

“Crazy, Stupid, Love” made a mockery of the people who released it, proving that a poorly chosen title and some ads that seem to give away everything don’t necessarily rightfully represent the movie. Watching it made me think of a slightly lighter version of “The Descendents.” Like that other movie, there was a rare, genuine feeling behind the humor of “Crazy, Stupid, Love” that didn’t make me feel stupid for enjoying it, and certainly doesn’t make me feel crazy for endorsing it.

Movie Review: Hugo

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Even this late in his career, Martin Scorsese can still reinvent himself, even if it means not changing at all.

“Hugo,” based on the award-winning children’s book “The Invention of Hugo Cabret” by Brian Selznick, is the rare PG-rated Scorsese film. However, that does not make it a children’s movie as many have labeled it. “Hugo” is for everyone.
“Hugo” is mechanical, yet magical. In the early 1930s, Hugo (Asa Butterfield) lives inside the walls of a Parisian train station, operating all of the station’s clocks. He has been doing this ever since his father (Jude Law) died and left him as an orphan. His life inside the walls gives him an innate ability to sneak around totally undetected. He steals in order to get by, which puts him at constant odds with the scheming and ill-tempered station inspector (Sacha Baron Cohen). As the inspector, Cohen looks like a more over-the-top version of Charles De Gaulle.
All that Hugo has left of his father is a broken automaton which he spends his spare time trying to fix. He steals parts from, and eventually gets caught by, George Melies (Ben Kingsley). That name doesn’t mean a lot to young Hugo at first, but he later discovers that he is none other than the legendary pioneer of filmmaking himself. Melies was one of the first filmmakers to figure out that moving pictures could tell stories.
“Hugo” is based on a book and its about the power of imagination, but it is also about Scorsese’s love of movies. At one point, Hugo takes of Melies’s daughter Isabelle (Chloe Grace Moretz) to see a movie in order to cheer her up. He believes that the movie theater is the only place where he can escape from reality. Viewers will also be treated to a history of film as well as footage from several key movies of the silent era. “Hugo” is a film buff’s dream come true.
From looking at the early movies shown in “Hugo,” there really was magic in them. The less realistic the special effects were, the more creative and deceptive filmmakers could be. Melies was equal parts filmmaker and magician.
Early silent films involved many tricks to feign depth and perspective. “Hugo” itself attempts this, and it contains some of the best 3D there has ever been. The third dimension is usually wasted by those who don’t understand the potential of it. In “Hugo,” 3D is not a gimmick but rather a way to add a layer of physical depth, and make this complex world of mazes and winding staircases even more immersive. I am not a cheerleader for the cause of 3D. However, if more directors used 3D the way Scorsese does here, then perhaps this new trend won’t necessarily spell the demise of movies as we know them.
As with any great movie, none of the special effects would mean anything if they did not support a great story. “Hugo” is an uplifting fantasy that is also very real. It balances out its darkest moments with comedy. Best of all, “Hugo” is not just about Hugo. The longer the audience spends in the train station, the more it gets to know the characters that occupy it. The subplots involving the inspector’s attempt to woo the flower shop owner (Emily Mortimer) and another including an old man at odds with a small dog are entertaining and actually tie in with the story as a whole. These segments of “Hugo” reminded me of the subplots seen in the windows of the apartment complex in “Rear Window.” Neither of these movies would be able to function without their settings, or the variety of people who occupy them.
The latter part of Scorsese’s career has been a mixed bag. While he won his first Oscar in 2006 for “The Departed,” few of his latest efforts have matched the brilliance of his earlier efforts. “Hugo” is his finest achievement in years, but there is just no way to compare it to his earlier works. There is nothing wrong with creating something that defies comparison.
Even if no one is shot in the head or shoved into the trunk of a car, “Hugo” could only have been made by Scorsese. His version of Paris transforms the City of Lights into something much grittier. The Paris of “Hugo” looks more like New York via “Gangs of New York”: snowbound, destitute, and industrial. Then there is Hugo’s world, which is one marked only by turning gears, with the great city surrounding him being just outside his reach. The only light of hope that ever shines is from a film projector.
In a way, Hugo is Scorsese in his youth. During his childhood on the mean streets of Little Italy, the movies were his only means of escape. Even as time passes, movies will always remain. The fact that “Hugo” is about a young boy saving the lost films of a once great artist is the kind of warm, moving act that doesn’t usually occur in a movie directed by Martin Scorsese. Even though “Hugo” claims that humans are just parts of the larger machine of the world, that can’t explain the feeling of being moved to tears by the movie’s end.
There is a scene in “Hugo” where Hugo and Isabelle watch “A Trip to the Moon” for the first time, and learn that each frame was colorized individually by hand. In the present, a camera can do that, and a computer can create any special effect imaginable. Therefore, it is hard for any movie made today to ever feel hand-crafted. When as much care, love, and devotion goes into making something like “Hugo,” it is then that the director’s, and not a computer’s, fingerprints are all over it. This is one of the best movies of the year.
As a side note, has anyone noticed that whenever a major movie is released that takes places in a foreign country but is spoken in English, all of the characters have British accents? When will Hollywood get that people can tell the difference between a French accent and a British accent?
Here are links to some of the silent movies featured in “Hugo”:
The Great Train Robbery (There is an allusion to the final shot at the end of “Goodfellas”)

Movie Review: The Muppets

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It’s a testament to the enduring legacy of The Muppets that their latest film, aptly titled “The Muppets,”can open with Paul Simon’s “Me and Julio Down by the Schoolyard,” and make most of the audience giddy. Before the movie began, there was a trailer for the latest “Alvin and the Chipmunks” movie which involved the chipmunks singing and dancing to Lady Gaga’s “Bad Romance.” It’s things like these that make me thankful that The Muppets are back.

Before I delve in to some very deep, fourth-wall-breaking Muppet matters, I’d like to clarify that I am not an aficionado, nor a connoisseur, of Jim Henson’s creation. The Muppets have come in and out of my life in various forms, but I cannot claim to have grown up on them as many have. Having said that, “The Muppets” is a wonderful 90 minutes of holiday escapism. If you think you’re too old for this movie, then I sentence you to a lifetime of watching the new “Alvin and the Chipmunks” trailer on loop.
The Muppet gang needs no introduction, but perhaps this movie does. Jason Segel and Nicholas Stoller, the duo responsible for “Forgetting Sarah Marshall” decided to fulfill a lifelong dream and make a movie with The Muppets. That is why “The Muppets” is so heavily nostalgic.
Stoller and Segel do add a few new Muppets to the gang, most important of them all being Walter (Peter Linz), who grew up idolizing the Muppets in Smalltown, USA. His brother Gary (Segel), who also happens to be both human and five feet taller than him, is just as obsessed with The Muppets as Walter is.
When Gary plans to take his long time girlfriend Mary (Amy Adams) out to Los Angeles for their anniversary, Walter comes along. Along the way, their goal becomes to help Kermit unite the gang for one last show in order to save Muppet Studios from the evil oil man Tex Richman (Chris Cooper). For anyone hoping to fill their children with environmental awareness, this is not the movie for you.
Segel’s and Stoller’s choice to make this a self-aware musical is a wise choice, and one that makes this an even more pleasurable viewing experience. I spent a large amount of time learning about the marketing of this movie in my film business class this semester, and for that reason I thought this movie would make me hate both The Muppets and Disney. In actuality, it made me admire both even more.
The story of “The Muppets” is truly about the making of itself. As Walter tries to get The Muppets back together onscreen, the movie does the exact same thing for the audience. Because of this, there are a lot of jokes in the movie that kids probably won’t understand. But for every time a character directly addresses the audience, or makes a joke about the lunacy of the huge dance numbers onscreen, there is a visual gag involving fart shoes. What more could anyone ask for?
The Muppets have been known throughout the years for rounding up a variety of celebrities for their shows and movies. This movie is no exception, and I will leave you with the surprise of most of the cameos that occur. I will say though, that “The Muppets” does include a rap by Chris Cooper. Only these puppets could make an Academy Award winner rap.
This is a version of The Muppets made largely for those who have been following them since their creation. But then again, isn’t every Muppets product like that? There is no reason that this movie shouldn’t be able to introduce new fans to the characters. Some thought that adding in new characters and the implementation of fart shoes were a desecration of The Muppets. That is an outrage. The Muppets are, and always have been, about the spirit and fun of chaos and anarchy.