Half-Assed Movie Reviews

May 5, 2010:  Into Eternity

Into Eternity is a documentary about long-term nuclear waste storage.  The particular story concerns a huge engineering project in Finland to store the waste deep beneath the surface of the earth, but it’s clear that the concerns apply anywhere in the world, and are even more pressing for countries which do not have large tracts of land with the right geological characteristics for this.

As construction proceeds, harshly lit video images flash across the screen, from creepy and imposing gates to antiseptic brightly lit rooms full of heavy equipment.  In the meantime, legislators, regulators, scientists, academics and politicians weigh in on the problem and whether or not this is the right solution.  It’s nice to think that burying nuclear waste deep in the earth will do the trick nicely, and in a sense it will, but the people creating these facilities need to provide for the site to be closed off for 100,000 years, which is far beyond a comprehensible time scale for human construction.  Chaucer was writing in English only 600 years ago, and current-day native speakers of the language can barely read those works.  A simple “Keep Out” sign on a chain link fence isn’t gonna cut it here.

I’ll admit I dozed through this one a bit, not only because I was particularly tired but because it was a bit dry at times.  An interesting point is that the film is presented in the english language, although it’s mostly broken english and all with subtitles.  At the Q&A the director pointed out, surprising me that I guessed correctly, that the choice of language was made for greater international appeal for the documentary.  It’s sad that this makes a difference, but I guess it’s good that the director perceived this advantage he could give himself.

Personally I’m a fan of nuclear power, and these underground storage techniques strike me as being a much more palatable price to pay for our energy thirst than the airborne pollution we scatter around the globe.  The film doesn’t try to push the point too hard, but I think it falls on the same side.

Nuclear energy – lesser of the evils?

May 3, 2010:  The People vs. George Lucas

I want to do this documentary justice in my review, but I’ll warn you now that I don’t think it’s going to happen.  Just see the movie for yourself.

The People vs. George Lucas looks at the push and pull relationship that rabid Star Wars fans of different eras have had with the creator of that universe, writer/director/producer George Lucas.  The fans exist in such a twisted state of artistic and business respect and awe, mixed with severe disappointment bordering on disbelief, that even when they are passionately deriding Lucas for what he has done to “destroy” Star Wars, in a way they understand the reasoning, and respect his right to do what feels right for him.

The director of the film, I learned in the Q&A, felt that this story should be told in documentary form and he was surprised that nobody had done it yet.  Included are testimonials from the public, the fans, and media celebrities about how they loved the first Star Wars films (1977-1983), and how they have struggled with the implications of the mass merchandising, the revisionist approaches to re-releases of the original films (primarily since 1997), and the inevitable let-down of the three prequel films (1999-2005).  At issue are the philosophical question of whether Lucas has the moral right to withhold the original versions of the films in preference for the later versions (there’s no question that he has the legal right), the artistic question of whether the prequels are just as awe-inspiring as the originals were (but for children and not thiry-somethings), and the personal question of why Lucas continues to explore the Star Wars universe and finds him unable to escape it despite his billions of dollars and obvious freedom to do whatever he wants.

It is clear that several long and passionate interviews have been conducted.  The structure of the film tends to assemble sound bites from a number of these interviews to speak to a specific point, and then move on to another topic.  For me, absolutely the most powerful interview was with Francis Ford Coppola, director of the Godfather films (1972, 1974, 1990) and Apocalypse Now (1979), and friend, mentor, and financial backer of Lucas when he was first starting out in the late 1960s.  Coppola speaks from close observation of that young and brilliant filmmaker who brought the world THX-1138 (1971) and American Graffiti (1973), and who so hated his experience with the Hollywood studios that he vowed never again to relinquish control over his artistic output.  Coppola clearly admires the artistic craftsmanship and the business acumen which led to the blockbuster performance and merchandising dominance of the original Star Wars trilogy, and comes right out and says that he wonders what other great stories Lucas could have brought to the world if he had been able to escape Star Wars.  Coming from any other filmmaker, those words might have been less poignant, but as a man who was nearly broken by his own opus and has never regained his original height of excellence, it’s clear that while Coppola wishes his friend’s career had turned out differently for his friend’s sake, Coppola understands that it’s not that simple.

For anyone who is even a casual fan of Star Wars or the pop-culture phenomenon which surrounds it, this is an entertaining but mostly unchallenging presentation of a story with which we are all familiar.  Coppola’s comments, and the acknowledgement that despite his iron grip over copyright Lucas is supportive of amateur fan films, elevate The People vs. George Lucas and help to humanize a man who all too often is reduced to a caricature as the supremely wealthy out-of-touch guy who thought Jar-Jar Binks was a good idea.

Humanizes one of the great filmmakers.

May 1, 2010:  The Big Lebowski

Why, when I first saw The Big Lebowski (1998) several years ago, didn’t I like it??  The Dude and his crew swear like sailors, revel in the minutiae of their day-to-day lives, and strike a puzzling mix of laissez-faire and unrepentant rage when an identity mix-up drags The Dude into a complex intertwined mess of thugs and hit men.  Two guys break into The Dude’s apartment, beat him up, piss on his rug, and don’t even really tell him why they are there.  He could take all of that in stride, but the rug really held the room together.

If the supporting cast (John Goodman, John Turturro, Steve Buscemi) didn’t give it away, The Big Leboswki is a Coen Brothers film.  Offbeat from the beginning with Blood Simple (1984), Joel and Ethan ventured further into incomprehensibility with quirky stories such as Raising Arizona (1987) and The Hudsucker Proxy (1994), returned to more straightforward fare such as Fargo (1996) and O Brother, Where Art Thou? (2000), and finally achieved mainstream acceptance as brilliant artists in their medium with the Oscar-winning No Country for Old Men (2007) as well as A Serious Man (2009).

The plot of The Big Leboswki is a convenient fiction upon which to hang the chilled-out presence of Jeff Bridges as The Dude and the unhitched Goodman as his Vietnam veteran friend.  Quick supporting turns by Turturro as an egotistical bowling champion, Sam Elliott as a mystical cowboy, and Julianne Moore as a posh wannabe mother don’t even cross my mind as being out of place in this meandering story.  The entire movie is completely off the wall, and I have to fully admit that I didn’t get it the first time I saw it.  This time, I’ve come to appreciate the players and the story considerably more.  Bridges was born to play this role, and revisiting this film is particularly poignant in light of his recent Oscar win for Crazy Heart.  Goodman is stellar, with his manic energy driving along everyone around him despite the fact that they all know he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.  The story is resolved well enough, but that isn’t really the point.

I won’t quote heavily from the movie and act like I’m a longtime worshipper of this cult favourite, but I’m happy to now count myself as a fan.

And now for The Hudsucker Proxy.

April 27, 2010:  Death at a Funeral (2010)

I knew from the trailer, really, that this remake of Death at a Funeral was likely to be a train wreck.  But when you line up that much comedic talent, I can’t resist.  What I should have done is watch the Frank Oz-directed 2007 British original instead.

What’s the story?  Chris Rock plays a man whose father has just died, and he has arranged to have the funeral at the house (he and his wife live there with his parents).  Family and friends gather, and a few major twists and turns cause what should be a solemn occasion to become a madhouse of fighting, blackmail, and violence.  A stellar supporting cast includes the likes Zoe Saldana, Luke Wilson, Tracy Morgan, Danny Glover, Keith David, and most importantly Peter Dinklage reprising his role from the original film.  Oh, and Martin Lawrence is here as well, playing Chris Rock’s brother.  I can’t categorize him as stellar.

I was on the fence about whether to bother with this one, but Roger Ebert recommended it.  I can’t do the same.  There’s lots of slapstick comedy thrown in, which I can totally see working in a British farce, but doesn’t feel right with this American family.  The drugged funeral guest getting naked on the roof, the young man getting soiled while helping an old man go to the bathroom, the coffin falling over…it just doesn’t work.  Even worse, mixing all this broad physical comedy with the emotional intricacies of the reunions and blowups among old friends and enemies leaves us with the two negating each other, making the total less than the sum of its parts and making them both feel misplaced.  There are a few good belly laughs, and some believable emotional moments, but it’s mostly awkward.

I’ve since taken a quick look at the original Death at a Funeral, and it looks like it works a lot better.  In particular, I get the impression that Peter Dinklage plays his part a bit differently, more grieving and feeling discarded rather than bitter and vengeful.  I can respect the change for the remake as being necessary in light of the different setting and the different personalities of the rest of the cast, but at the same time I think it defuses a lot of the power brought to the story by his character, who is a core part of the film.  Don’t bother with this one, but I hear the original is not bad.

Another remake fills me with regret.

April 19, 2010:  Chloe

Was Atom Egoyan ever as great as we all think he was?  He’s undeniably talented when it comes to the technical elements of filmmaking, and that goes a long way.  But for me, he pretty consistently misfires in some way.  Mind you, when I think back over the films I’ve seen – The Adjuster (1991), Exotica (1994), The Sweet Hereafter (1997), Felicia’s Journey (1999), Where the Truth Lies (2005) – I find myself thinking that I’d be quite happy to revisit any of them.  But at the end of a viewing I tend to feel somehow disappointed, like he’s teasing me by going 90% of the way towards a good movie but refusing to fix one or two glaring issues to elevate it to where it should be.

With Chloe, Egoyan returns to familiar territory of sexual obsession taken to extremes and gone horribly wrong, and the premise and the casting and even the resolution (up to a point) are all fine, but instead of a clean buildup to a breaking point, it instead felt like bumper bowling as I was taken to the edge of credibility and tension several times, but then always rebounded immediately into tawdry melodrama.  Canada’s golden boy director brings real style and atmosphere to Chloe, as he always does effortlessly, but he doesn’t quite bring enough weight or believability to the story.

The titular Chloe is a prostitute working in the wealthy Yorkville neighbourhood in Toronto.  Julianne Moore, a gynecologist working and living in the area, suspects that her husband (Liam Neeson) is having affairs, and she hires Chloe as bait to prove whether or not her husband is fooling around when given the opportunity.  This questionable scheme of course spins out of control, but not before the needs and desires of all three major characters are explored, and beneath the surface none of them are as they appear.

The individual performances are mostly solid.  Amanda Seyfried as Chloe captures the right tone, but maybe doesn’t quite nail it because she wavers between being street wise and really stupid, although that might be appropriate to the young and damaged character.  Neeson pretty much sleepwalks through this but that’s all that is required for his role, besides which he spent half of the shoot in mourning over the loss of his wife Natasha Richardson in a tragic skiing accident.  Moore, as usual, brings far greater emotional validity to a part than it typically deserves, and while her performance is sabotaged by dialogue which is nonsensical and ridiculous at times, she can still sell it.  That lady has an Oscar coming to her one of these years.  The minor character of Moore and Neeson’s son was either a badly written part or played by a bad actor, which is somewhat damaging.  And there isn’t really anyone else in the film.

Chloe is a love letter to Egoyan’s (and my) native Toronto, unabashedly mentioning and showing such venues as the Rivoli, the Café Diplomatico, the Windsor Arms Hotel and Allan Gardens.  It is mostly set in an area which isn’t as familiar to me, since I’m not rich, but seeing recognizable streetcars and street signs is nice, and I like to see Toronto play itself instead of being a stand-in for other cities.  One of the most bizarre meta-moments in my movie-watching career was when I saw a car chase in a big American movie which actually took place in the garage where our car was parked across the street, and in a couple of shots we could see the theatre in which we were sitting.

I can’t in good conscience recommend Chloe.  The performances are generally good, but the dialogue is terrible, the tone is uneven, and the ending takes the easy way out with a coda which doesn’t quite ring true.  Go and watch Exotica again, instead.

Egoyan flirts yet again with mastery.