Monday, December 28, 2009

Magnolia (1999)




It's probably going to be impossible for me to hide my bias against Magnolia in the review, so I won't try too hard. Why I let the film siphon more than six hours of my life away is a question I will be asking myself for a long time to come. Personally, I view it as a blight on the landscape of American cinema. It's an obnoxiously long and masturbatory film that would have drifted into obscurity long ago if it wasn't for the incessant cries of it's devotees. It's the definition of trivial in every way; full of connections, in the loosest sense of the word, references and symbols that amount to nothing really profound. It's a very plain movie with a fistful of easter eggs that goes on an hour longer than it should.

Since it's nearly impossible to give a brief plot synopsis of Magnolia, I will spare you. Suffice to say, it's the story of about a dozen loosely, and I mean extremely loosely, connected characters and what happens to them on one specific night where it rains frogs. Lost yet? The cast is more like a character actor, all-star team, featuring Tom Cruise, who got an almost deserved Academy Award nomination, Julianne Moore, William H. Macy, John. C. Reilly, Phillip Seymour Hoffman and a laundry list of other recognizable faces, than anything else and their collective performances are about as lazy as a typical all-star effort.Written and directed by Paul Thomas Anderson, the film clearly never went through any filter other than Anderson and it suffers greatly because of this. It's a bloated and pretentious movie that will had me asking for the three hours of my life it wasted back.



We'll start with Magnolia's most apparent problem. It's length and clear disregard for the principles of economy. There's nothing too fundamentally wrong with the things in Magnolia. It's mediocre at best, but at least, most of the time, it's not laughably bad. There are a few interesting characters and some interesting territory for them to explore, but there is just too much here. For every character worth focusing on, there is at least one that isn't. You're dying and you are wrecked with guilt over sexually abusing your daughter? That's no big deal, we're gonna cut back to Julianne Moore dropping the f-bomb a few more times. This bogs down the experience until your knee deep in the film with no way to pull yourself back out. This happens about forty-five minutes into the movie and for the next two hours you drown slowly and painfully. A few less characters, and about an hour chopped off the run time, would work wonders for the film, but Magnolia's problems run a lot deeper than simple issues of pace and economy.

I lied when I said Magnolia isn't laugh out loud bad at times. From the juvenile script, to some woefully pitched performances to, finally, some odd ball moments, that elicited hysterical laughter from me, the movie just misses the mark in a lot of ways. In a lot of ways I like Paul Thomas Anderson. As a director, he has a lot of skill, but his screen-writing leaves a lot to be desired. Even his best films, There Will Be Blood for example, feature some eye-rolling lines. Magnolia is, downright, full of them. Now, I'm not the kind of person who has a problem with obscenity. In fact, I have a fouler mouth than any of the characters in the film, but if you are going to use as much obscenity as Anderson does in Magnolia, you better be David Mamet. This was amplified, but some really awkward performances by the a few of the film's stars; in particular, John C. Reilly and Julianne Moore. Reilly, who comes off as a goofy characterture, and Moore, who seems to be constantly hyperventilating, give performances that lead to a large amount of inadvertent humor. Throw some in some woefully misconceived montages, a sing-along involving most of the characters and frogs falling from the sky and you've got yourself a film that teeters on the verge of downright stupidity.



I've tried to understand the love for Magnolia, but I just can't buy into it. It certainly has some worthwhile moments, but they are few and far between. The introduction is pretty interesting, but it creates unrealistic expectations of how the movie is going to pan out. It creates the expectation of some sort of profound, solid connection between all these characters, some sort of hidden surprise or connection waiting for us, but that connection is not there. Under other circumstances, I may have applauded Magnolia for not giving us a cut and dry connection between all of our characters, for using a thematic connection rather than a tangible "ah-ha" moment, but it doesn't work here. There are too many characters, that are too loosely connected to it all, for that to work. I will say that, as much as I generally dislike him, Tom Cruise does a solid job for most of the film. It's not too big an accomplishment, since he got, by far, the most interesting and entertaining bits to himself, but I won't disagree with the Academy Award nomination he received. The Exodus 8:2 references and all the hidden stuff in the film doesn't appeal to me. I need to like something before I care to delve that far into it and the stuff hidden in Magnolia really isn't that special anyway. I get it, frogs fall in Exodus 8:2, try some subtly for a change.

Rather than trying to sum up my hatred for Magnolia with more words, I will leave you with something that demonstrates my loathing in full. This being my second viewing of the film, I took my anger out on a blank sheet of paper as the film crawled through it's three hour run-time. I now present to you, a visual representation of Paul Thomas Anderson's Magnolia.



3/10


Thursday, December 17, 2009

Avatar (2009)



I have a hard time hiding my excitement over James Cameron's return to the big screen. Now that he has grown out of his making documentaries about Christianity phase, he can finally return to his true calling; making the films that define the sci-fi action genre. While he has always been on the cutting edge of special effects spectacle, Cameron may have even impressed himself with Avatar. Special effects have never been as good as they are here. Avatar is an epic in every sense of the word. The scope, the visuals and the story of Avatar are all so much larger than life that, it's hard not to be swept off your feet.

Jake Sully, a paralyzed ex-marine, played by Sam Worthington, takes a job on Pandora, a lush jungle world where a less than savory company is mining for the mineral resource "unobtainium". Whoever OKed that name made a huge mistake, but, anyway, back to the story. Jake's job on Pandora is to pilot an avatar. This isn't just some extra human body to keep him alive, the body is of the native race of Pandora, the Na'vi. In a twist of fate, Jake meets a Na'vi women who sees a lot of mystery and prophecy surrounding him. She convinces her tribe to take him in and train him in their ways. From there, things develop as a standard epic. There's betrayal, a love story, some bravery in the face of impossible odds and so on. It's all generally effective, even if it's nothing new, but the scope of James Cameron's vision is what really makes Avatar work. That and the glorious special effects.




Few science fiction or fantasy worlds have ever felt as complete as the world of Pandora. There is nobody to praise for this except Cameron. The combination of mind-blowing effects and attention to details make for a movie that is constantly surprising. There is so much to see on the world of Pandora, so many mysteries to be unlocked, that Cameron can do little but to allude to most of them. There are very few science fiction movies with this kind of world building and it's a primary reason why many fail. Not only is the world fully fleshed out, but praise must be given to James Cameron for waiting until the time was ready; for waiting until special effects technology had progressed to a point where he didn't need to compromise his vision for any reason. Let's not forget that the main draw of Avatar is, and it should be, the unbelievable special effects. The digital characters in Avatar make Gollum look like child's play. The characters are fully expressive and beautifully rendered creations that can stand next to a real person and still look like flesh and blood. Combined with the most detailed, and beautiful, CGI backdrops ever, Avatar has to be seen to be believed. On a personal note, the movie was meant to be seen in 3D, so don't pass up an opportunity to do so. It truly brings out all the detail in a way that a traditional viewing could never do.


There is no denying that Avatar hits on some familiar notes, but most of them are interesting variants on things we've seen before. The movie has a fairly traditional epic story and Avatar is full of the traditional archetypes and plot devices, but it's all just genuine enough to keep you engaged. The movie also gives some interesting twists to concepts that seem to be awfully prevalent in popular science fiction right now. The biggest of these, the idea of human beings piloting some other form of body, and the questions that arise, seems to be everywhere recently. At least two other films this year have explored this idea, in it's varying forms, but Avatar gives it a nice twist. The two world's that Jake inhabits are so radically different, that his journey is more a personal journey than many of the other explorations of this concept. This makes Jake's identity crisis significantly more effective. This is partly because of Sam Worthington's performance, which is a pleasant surprise, and because the personal nature of the journey gives Cameron more time to explore it rather than needing to discuss the effect of the idea on humanity as a whole. The movie tries to explore the effects of the human race on nature, like many recent movies, and also succeeds because of Cameron's mastery of the science fiction genre. Rather than focus on a simple spiritual connection between the Na'vi and nature, Cameron shows us an actual, physical bond between the people of Pandora and their world. This is in stark opposition to the human race, who trashes their own world and stubbornly refuses to acknowledge the connection between the living things on Pandora. This draws a stark contrast between the human race and the Na'vi which is all the more effective because of the epic structure of the film.



Avatar is nothing more than movie spectacle at it's very best. Both a special effects extravaganza and a reasonably successful epic, the film is the perfect reminder of why I fell in love with movies in the first place. It's hard to believe that special effects have come this far, but I saw it with my own eyes. Avatar could change the way movies are made and I'm glad it's receiving positive reviews and recognition for it's efforts. While it may not be Best Drama material, it's implications on the modern film-making industry may be felt for years to come.


9/10

The Big Lebowski (1998)




Sometimes there's a movie, and, I'm talking about the The Big Lebowski here, it's the movie for it's time and place. It fits right in there. No film has ever captured the voluntary apathy, the breadth of looser culture, present in the 1990's in quite the same way as The Big Lebowski. The film gets very mixed reviews, especially on a first viewing, but that's because it demands that you accept it for what it is. It's a movie that demands that you just let it be. Like The Dude, it simply abides. There is no grand message hidden in The Big Lebowski. There is nothing terribly important that the Coen brothers want to tell you. It's just a movie about a dude, The Dude to be exact, and a damn funny one at that.

I've already told you that what happens in The Big Lebowski is irrelevant, so I'm not going to give you a long synopsis of the plot. Simply, someone pisses on The Dude's rug and he will not let the aggression stand. From there, things get pretty silly. The Dude, Jeff Bridges, and his friends, played by Steven Buscemi and John Goodman, try to unravel the mess that overwhelms their lives and try to continue to advance in their bowling league's tournament. The supporting cast features a few more familiar faces, Julian Moore, Philip Seymour Hoffman and a few other Coen regulars. Masterfully written and directed by the Coen brothers, the traditional humor in The Big Lebowski is bolstered by some really surreal film-making that makes the whole movie feel a little bit like an acid trip.



There are a handful of, what I'll call, dream sequences in The Big Lebowski, along with a general feeling of surrealism, that give the movie a tone that is very different from almost every other movie out there. All of it feels a little bit like a bad acid flashback. This tone, set by the style of the movie, is echoed superbly by the actors. Each one seems more like a characterture than a real person, until you start to realize that the joke here is on you. These people, outlandish as they are, represent some of the archetypes of that generation better than any serious drama could ever hope to portray them. More importantly than anything else, all of the actors buy into this vision. Bridges, Goodman and Buscemi keep the movie funny with their perfect comedic chemistry and their full-on commitment to their roles. They are just as lost as we are, despite their assertions otherwise, and it all works perfectly together. You can't wait for the next thing to go wrong because it just gets funnier each time. The movie just escalates, sometimes without provocation or explanation, and, if you let it take you in, it's a hysterical ride. If you don't take The Dude's attitude to heart, you might find yourself asking "why?" a lot.



I wouldn't describe The Big Lebowski as a great introduction to the Coen brothers. In a lot of ways, it can be a seriously alienating film for a first time viewer. The surrealistic nature of it all, the same nature that I just praised, can be really difficult to get behind when you see the movie. I still, on my fourth viewing of the movie, find myself a little bored by the dream sequences and a little hesitant to give the movie serious consideration as more than a simple exercise in odd-ball comedy. The lack of substantial plot or character development can also be a turn off for someone who is looking at the movie from a more traditional sense. Not everyone can celebrate a movie that is as completely aimless as The Big Lebowski. The Coen's triumph is that most people can come to appreciate the wackiness of it all, but it takes time. The movie gets substantially better and funnier with each, repeated, viewing. 

Once you throw aside the pretenses that come with watching a movie, there is almost nothing wrong with The Big Lebowski. That's the trap it catches you in; to enjoy the movie you can't over-analyze it, so it becomes extremely difficult to find faults in it. As an expression of the aimless, 1990's slacker lifestyle, The Big Lebowski is hard to beat.

8/10

Tuesday, December 15, 2009

Close Encounters of the Third Kind (1977)



I never thought I would find myself intensely rooting for a man who, so blatantly, abandons his family, but something inside of you, while you are watching Close Encounters of the Third Kind, honestly pulls for Roy Neary. As you should have gathered already, this is not just a movie about aliens. Steven Spielberg has a knack for infusing intense, personal stories into special effects extravaganza's and creating what can only be described as movie magic. Close Encounters of the Third Kind is full of this magic. It's a extremely complex, often times dark and surprisingly beautiful movie that just so happens to have some aliens in it. It's not quite science fiction, and that makes it especially hard to pin-down what makes it work. What do you call a movie full of aliens if you can't simply call it science fiction?

Close Encounters of the Third Kind is, essentially, a one man show. Roy Neary, superbly portrayed by Richard Dreyfuss, is not exactly the world's greatest father or husband. These problems only multiply when he becomes obsessed with finding out the truth after an encounter with an U.F.O. This obsession leads him, and others who are experiencing this same, inexplicable, attraction to Devil's Tower, Wyoming, on a journey to discover what really happened. He is accompanied by a woman named Jillian, Melinda Dillon, who he meets on the night of his first sighting. Jillian's young son is abducted by the alien's and both Roy and Jillian do everything in their power to have their questions answered. Close Encounters of the Third Kind is also a technical marvel. The way it's shot, the special effects and the score are all absolutely brilliant. For a movie made in 1977 not to look completely dated is a remarkable achievement from a special effects standpoint. Steven Spielberg has a long resume of classics, or films destined to be classics, but the artful blending of drama, suspense and science fiction in Close Encounters of the Third Kind nearly tops the list of his directorial achievements.



True classic films do one of two things; the define genre or they defy it. Close Encounters of the Third Kind defies genre in a way that few movies have. As a science fiction movie, it's an interesting exploration of first contact with extra-terrestrials. The iconic five note scale that is used to communicate with the aliens and the mysterious reappearance of Flight 19 are ideas that could only come out of a science fiction film, but that is really only a fraction of what the movie is about.

Where the film truly succeeds is in portraying the effects of contact on regular people. This is where the conflict that drives the movie comes from. The blending of suspense, even horror, at times and drama is really beautiful. The terror and mystery that occurs when regular people have a close encounter is really excellent. Roy's first encounter on the train tracks and the abduction of Jillian's son are terrifying sequences that leave you with no real answers. You feel the same need to find these answers that Roy and Jillian feel. This helps you empathize with the characters, even when they do things that aren't exactly good or responsible. This all plays into Roy's obsession beautifully. You feel the same way he does, so even when he is going insane, you side with him instead of his family. It's only when you see how it tears his family apart that you remember there is more going on here. This conflict is essential to the film's pace and to keeping the stakes high, even though they fall off towards the end of the movie. Roy's decision to abandon his family is born out of this conflict, and this decision is one of the things that makes the film truly interesting. Like his decision or not, it is powerfully supported by the rest of the film, even if Spielberg thinks it was a mistake.



While Spielberg certainly creates movie magic, he also has a tendency to show more than he should. Close Encounters of the Third Kind has a few moments that don't quite stand-up to the rest of the film's quality and it feels light in a few, key, areas. The biggest flaw in the movie may very well be in the last fifteen minutes. The film's conflict dies out as the film reaches, what should be it's climax, and most of the tension dries up. There is certainly a lot to like about the movies ending, but it lacks intensity. It's here that you can feel Spielberg's desire to try and hide the repercussions of  Roy's actions. He ends up multiplying the criticism though because Roy doesn't spend a single second deciding whether or not to leave. Spielberg also shows a bit too much of the aliens. There is a really amazing moment where the mothership opens and a disturbing, alien looking creature is inside. That shot alone, would have sufficed, but Spielberg keeps showing us more and more. We go from something mysterious, slightly scary and interesting to what is clearly a bunch of children in rubber suits. Needless to say it doesn't work for me. There is also a slight issue of character back-story throughout the film. Roy's marital issues and history are pretty well alluded to, but I never quite feel like I know who he is. The same can be said about Jillian. These characters are really believable, but I find myself asking a lot of questions about them.

While it doesn't do it total justice, Close Encounters of the Third Kind is a science fiction film. It's drama and suspense are derived from a science fiction element, but it is certainly more than your simple alien movie. There is a lot of complexity to dig into here and a lot to love about Spielberg's first, and certainly, his best attempt at making a sci-fi movie.

9/10

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

Office Space (1999)



I may never forgive Office Space for taking the "nerdy white guys listening to gangster rap" joke away from me. I loved dazzling the homeboys and girls with my sick lyrics, but alas, it's over. It won't ever be as funny as it was in Office Space and I probably should just stop trying. Office Space is really a movie that needs context. Like a lot of Mike Judge's humor, it's not really funny unless you've lived it. You don't think King of the Hill is funny? Live in the south for ten years and you'll see that Judge is spot on in his satire. Office Space is the same way. It is a lot more accessible than some of Judge's other work, but you really need to have worked in a cubicle to totally appreciate it. It's a clever little film that has a surprising amount of humor hidden in it, even if the topical nature of the humor dooms the movie to cult status.

Office Space is the story of a man who hates his job. Hates isn't quite the right word, but it's the first that comes to mind. In an effort to solve his problem, Peter goes to a hypno-therapist for help. It works, but maybe a little too well. He officially stops trying at work and, in a unbelievable twist of fate, is significantly promoted for it. The film features a cast of relative nobodies, with the exception of Jennifer Aniston, who do an admirable job at keeping the whole thing funny. Mike Judge, who directs and writes, does some of his best work in Office Space. The movie functions as a biting satire with just enough feeling to keep the whole thing honest.



There are very few satires of the modern working world that are as funny and as spot-on as Office Space. Anyone who has ever worked in a cubicle has entertained dreams of doing exactly what Peter does and watching it pay off for him is, both, sickeningly funny and highly upsetting. Something is ingrained deep inside the working class that tells us working hard is essential. It's probably a relic of the Puritan work ethic, but the modern working man is conflicted. On one hand, we feel deep down in our core that we need to try as hard as possible, no matter how much we hate our job, but Peter's success shows us what we have feared all along. That the working world is a completely broken institution. Where Office Space truly shines though is that it doesn't blindly support a rebellion against the working world. Finding a balance between working hard and enjoying life is what is truly essential. This touch of feeling, which is one of Judge's trademarks, keeps Office Space from being just a simple, unremarkable comedy about having a crappy job.



Full of great one liners and memorable supporting characters, Office Space is a movie that will remain popular with a certain generation for a long time, but it seems doomed to cult status because of how cripplingly topical it is. Even though there is plenty of solid, accessible humor in the film, the bulk of the jokes require a specific set of experiences to really enjoy. Without doing office work, it's hard to empathize with our characters or laugh when things go horribly awry. Sure, people will always hate their jobs, but a lot of things have already changed in the workplace since 1999. In another ten years, the world that Office Space shows might not even exist anymore.

Even if Office Space drops off the face of the planet, there are quite a few Gen-Xer's who will always stand-by the movie. While I can't officially call myself one of them, born in a few years after the official "Generation X" cut-off, Office Space is a movie that will always hold a special place in my heart. It's outrageously funny and totally enjoyable. There is enough here, even for those who have never had a job in their life, to laugh at that the movie should stick around, but that seems unlikely. Even if Office Space is doomed to cult status, I will always enjoy it.

8/10

Tuesday, December 8, 2009

The Graduate (1967)



There comes a time in your life when, someone needs to sit you down and make you watch The Graduate. That time is different for every person, but, for most people, the time comes right before you graduate from college and go off to the "real world". For me, the time to re-watch The Graduate is now. As I write this review, sitting in a coffee shop in South Korea, with absolutely no idea what I will do with my life when I come home to the states in nine months, I can't help but feel a little bit like Ben at the bottom of a swimming pool in SCUBA gear, harpoon gun in hand. Thematically, the film captures a very complicated part of life in a way that very few movies have, thanks to some top-notch film-making, and it stays relevant and funny even after four decades.

The Graduate is the story of Benjamin Braddock. A recent college graduate, Ben, played by Dustin Hoffman, is quite worried about his future. To make a long, and a much more complicated, story short, he has an affair with the wife of a family friend Mrs. Robinson, Anne Bancroft. This only complicates matters when he falls madly in love with Elaine, Mrs. Robinson's daughter. The film is masterfully directed by Mike Nichols, who won the movie's single Oscar for his work, and is bolstered by a top-notch screenplay. The overall film-making, Nichol's direction, the cinematography and the use of sound, are the true stars here, overshadowing even the superb performances by Hoffman and Bancroft.



The tone of The Graduate, set by Nichols and faithfully followed by everyone involved in the film, is a marvelous film-making achievement. Everything, from the long still shots, to the artful zooms, projects Ben's feelings in a fascinating way. You can read Ben's uncertainty all over his face, but you can also read it through the film making elements. At the beginning of the movie, the shot selection and pacing all scream doubt. Things change around Ben. Things happen to him rather than him making things happen for himself and this is seen in both the film-making and the acting. Ben seems to stay still, but scene's transition past him, and through him, without so much as a flinch. Rarely do the technical aspects of a sequence match the tone as well as they do here. This can be seen again with Ben's single-minded, and slightly creepy, determination to follow Elaine. The camera rarely moves and, even when things are moving fast, what's really important, Ben and Elaine, stays perfectly in focus.



This deep connection between film-making and emotion is also apparent in the use of sound. So few film makers know how to properly use silence that, when you see it done correctly, it is twice as powerful. Nichol's masterfully mutes the film when it's most appropriate and leaves us devoid of score or soundtrack in all the right places. It would be impossible to not mention the constant use of Simon and Garfunkel songs in the film. Most of the time, their use is as masterful as the rest of the production, but they do get a little repetitive at points. The music generally matches the tone perfectly, but you can only hear The Sound of Silence so many times in an hour and forty-five minutes. I'm also conflicted about the way the songs cut in and out at times. A simple fade in and out would have worked wonders.

The technical aspects of the film aren't the only elements that deserve to be applauded. The performances, from Hoffman and Bancroft are both excellent. Hoffman is especially good. His ability to remain sincere, even when what he is doing is insane, and a little bit creepy, keeps the film's feet on the ground. The movie's fantastic script also deserves credit here. It's minimalistic, but extremely funny when it wants to be. The effortless transition The Graduate makes from comedy to drama can be, mostly, attributed to the actors though. The script goes from laugh out loud funny to deeply introspective very quickly and these transitions required artful film-making and performances to work properly. The Graduate gets both of these things and succeeds because of it.



The biggest flaw of The Graduate is that it sags in the middle. The themes are less resounding and it drags more than a movie of it's length should. It's impossible for me to put my finger on what exactly goes wrong, but the middle of the film just doesn't feel right. Luckily, things pick up quite a bit as the movie builds towards one of the most memorable final moments in cinema history. The Graduate is certainly a movie that was before it's time. It's still extremely funny and, maybe, more relevant today than it ever was. It has been, and will remain, required viewing for any film lover that is graduating college or about to embark on a new era of their life.

9/10

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

Vampyr (1932)



Watching a silent film can be a completely alienating experience. The vast majority of films from the silent era come from an entirely different sensibility and they can be extremely difficult to enjoy. While Vampyr is not, actually, a silent film, it's firmly rooted in the ascetic of that era and it is best viewed with this in mind. By the standards of that era, Vampyr is a chilling piece of horror. There are some moments that stand out, even today, but, overall, it just feels dated.

Vampyr, directed by the highly renowned Carl Dreyer, is the story of Allan Grey. Mr. Grey is fascinated with the occult and, on a trip to the countryside, finds himself neck deep in the machinations of a vampire. His struggles to save himself and a girl, who he promised to help, take him through a series of unsettling events that put his very life in jeopardy. Dreyer, as he usually did, used a cast full regular people instead of trained actors for most of the roles. It also marks the first time that Dreyer used sound in any of his films. This combination of things leads to a production that feels more amateur than masterful.



Anyone who has seen more than one Dreyer film knows that he can work magic with a cast of nobodies. He has elicited unbelievable performances out of these regular people on more than one occasion, but it just doesn't pan out that way in Vampyr. The main culprit here is our leading man, Julian West. His unchanging expression of confusion is a perfect metaphor for a first viewing of the film. Vampyr is a convoluted mess from start to finish. Overly complex and plodding, the movie ambles through it's run-time like one of the lost souls in the story. You'll find your face looking a lot like West's before it's over; confused and slightly bored. This, coupled with the rudimentary, and mostly unnecessary, use of sound and dialog, give them film a feel of being incomplete. It's not all doom and gloom for the, so-called, horror classic though.



Vampyr succeeds on the very important visual level like few films of the era do. There are quite a few chilling moments that stand out even after 75 years. The buried alive sequence, in particular, is really an impressive piece of film making and I was exceptionally fond of the shadow special effects. The sort of subtlety that Vampyr demonstrates is a aspect of the horror genre that has been, unfortunately, lost under buckets of blood and violence in modern horror films. The atmosphere, created by the camera filters and special effects, is truly ghastly and something that is easy for anyone to appreciate. If anything proves that Dreyer is worthy of the acclaim lumped on him and his directorial efforts, then his masterful crafting of atmosphere in Vampyr, despite his failures with the cast, does the trick.

Vampyr is effective enough just in the visual sense to be worth a viewing. The acting and pacing of nearly every film from this era feels completely dated, so it's hard to really approach the movie from a modern sensibility anyway. Carl Dreyer is a master director, but Vampyr is far from his crowing achievement. It's a hallmark horror film, chilling, atmospheric and worthy of some of the praise it receives, but, overall, it doesn't really amount to anything special.

6/10

Tuesday, December 1, 2009

Requiem for a Dream (2000)



There may be nothing more difficult in Hollywood than making a serious film about drugs. After avoiding the pitfalls of becoming overtly anti-drug, a film-maker must then make sure that they don't glorify substance abuse. It's like walking a tight rope; one step too far on either side, and the entire film falls on it's face. Requiem for a Dream walks that line as well, if not better, than any film ever made. It's a beautifully made film, dripping with style, and also a horrifying glimpse into the world of substance abuse. It's so effective that you might find yourself throwing away your aspirin just to be on the safe side.

Requiem for a Dream is, at it's core, the story of a mother and her son. Both characters struggle with their addictions to substances. Harry Goldfarb, played by Jared Leto, is a heroin addict, and his mother, Ellen Burstyn, becomes addicted to diet pills in attempt to loose weight before she appears on a television show. The film also focuses on Harry's relationship with his girlfriend, Jennifer Connelly, and his best friend, Marlon Wayans. Yes, there is a Wayan's brother in Requiem for a Dream and he does a top-notch job. All this drama, mixed with director Darren Aronofsky's visual and stylistic flair, make for truly stunning movie. It also helps that Requiem for a Dream has one of the best scores in recent memory.



Visually speaking, there isn't anything quite like Requiem for a Dream. Aronofsky goes to great lengths to give the film, especially sequences involving drug use, a special look and feel. The calming, very tranquil, feel of the early heroin sequences are contrasted exceptionally well against the paranoia and terror that Burstyn's diet pills cause. It blends remarkably well and makes for some really interesting moments and segments. All of these stylistic choices play into the fervent pace of the films climax, which is one of the most intense and disturbing sequences of film ever made. Very rarely does everything come together in the way that it does here. If you find yourself sucking your thumb and asking for "mommy", then don't be alarmed. That is a perfectly normal reaction to the end of the Requiem for a Dream. Few movies have ever left me as devastated. There are some moments where the choices are, shall we say, odd though. While some of the surrealistic things that happen to Ellen Goldfarb are extremely powerful and interesting, it goes a little too far at times. I don't think I was the only one who found the cupcakes falling from the ceiling a little silly.



One of the other places that Requiem for a Dream truly sets itself apart is, it's ability to feel honest and uncompromising. Yes, by the end of the film you are going to think drugs are bad, but the film never pounds you over the head with that thought. You come to that conclusion on your own as you see these people's lives crash down around them because of their addictions. For a time, life seems good for everyone. Ellen looses weight, Harry and his friends make good money and seem happy, but it takes so little for this all to fall apart. Seeing the good and the bad together is important because it helps keep these people real. There is so much more to these people than their addictions that, when their addictions finally do get the best of them, it cuts twice as deep. The drug use is, in fact, only a product of these character's true flaws. These flaws come to light as they sink further into addiction and this extra depth keeps the characters from becoming two-dimensional.

The actors involved also deserve credit for keeping the characters interesting. I never thought I would say that about a movie with Marlon Wayans in it, but here I am eating my words. Everyone's commitment and daring here is one of the primary reasons the film succeeds despite some flaws. Without honest, grounded performances, the stylistic choices would overtake the human drama in a heartbeat. While everyone pulls their own weight, the true stand out here is Ellen Burstyn. Word's can't describe how powerful her performance is. How she lost the Academy Award to Julia Roberts, no one will ever know.

I would never describe Requiem for a Dream as a fun movie to watch. It's a gut-wrenching, intense, disturbing and devastating film. That doesn't change the fact that it is also one of the most gripping movies you will ever lay eyes on. These people's lives become train wrecks, and you can't look away. It will leave you absolutely breathless.

10/10