Jersey Boys

Posted on July 8, 2014 by Mark DuPré

What a fascinating, enjoyable mess of a film! The saving grace of the film, of course, is that glorious music (“Sherry,” “Big Girls Don’t Cry,” “Walk Like a Man”), with a nearly irresistible hook of the classic rags-to-riches-and-off-to-who-knows-where story, in this case, the tale of the Four Seasons. Converting a jukebox musical into a hit on Broadway was challenging enough, but successful. Taking that musical and putting it on screen has proven a rather awkward fit.

For those who love the music and are curious about the story, that’s enough to see it. For many of the rest of us, it’s also a Clint Eastwood film, reason enough to be curious. While it may seem an uneasy fit to have the director of Unforgiven, Mystic River and Million Dollar Baby direct a musical, remember that the Western-star-turned-director is a music lover, a film score composer on a number of his films, and director of 1988’s Bird, on the life of jazz musician Charlie “Bird” Parker.

Yet loving music doesn’t a musical director make, and that’s part of the problem. Eastwood has clearly proven himself far more than a director of Westerns, but his oeuvre is deeply serious: think Mystic River, Million Dollar Baby, Gran Torino, Changeling, J. Edgar, Hereafter, Blood Work, and his newest work currently in post-production, American Sniper. Nary a hit song among them! Eastwood’s best work is characterized by an even, tense, almost fatalistic disposition, with an energy closer to No Country for Old Men’s Anton Chigurh than the exuberance of a musical star.

The music of Jersey Boys is consistently uplifting in every meaning of the word, but it’s always fighting a slightly dark, artificially heightened world here. In most musicals, the central conceit of a world where music arises from almost nowhere is echoed by a deliberately affected world of large emotions, bright colors and décor, and an acting style that allows the move from “reality” to musical expression. That is flipped on its head here: the music (since it’s all performance and stays in the world of the film) isn’t allowed to break as free as it wants or needs to. It’s part of a rather downbeat story that even at its most successful peaks is fraught with argument, competition and tension. The world of the film, on the other hand, is more synthetic than the music. The not-quite-real world of the 1950s, the clichéd Italian-American sets, food and unending parade of b0dda-boom, bodda-bing talk—it’s hermetically sealed, cutting off a sense of real life, and draining the tale of a good percentage of the kick that comes with knowing this really happened.

Part of the problem is Eastwood’s tendency to recreate the recent past in amber. In Changeling, J. Edgar, and now this film, Eastwood takes known eras and moves them in the direction of Louis XIV’s court. It’s not so stylized at to be completely break off our conception of the time period, but it recreates it in a facsimile that we can’t really relate to. We observe the world far more than we’re drawn into it.

The look doesn’t help. Cinematographer Tom Stern is expert at creating a cool, reserved palette (every film named in the third paragraph was photographed by Stern). Jersey Boys has a yellow-brown cast, but it’s a grey-yellow-brown, not warm like a sepia-colored period piece. The occasional costume change brings some visual relief, but the joy of the music tends to clash with the look of the film.

Perhaps most disappointing is the lack of a key ingredient in a musical with this kind of score: it’s called pizzazz. There is a moment or two (especially in the creation of the title of “Big Girls Don’t Cry”) that lifts, but they ultimately only provide contrast to the rather weighty tone and feel of the rest of the film.

John Lloyd Young, winner of the Tony Award for the stage version, has nearly the same voice as Frankie Valli, though it’s a little less sweet. He’s fine as an actor, but unusually inexpressive for a performer, even in the most dramatic scenes. Young does manage to pull off the younger scenes (though if he can be seen as sixteen, I’m still 39), where an unwrinkled face and some teenage hutzpah work in his favor. But the more mature scenes seem to lose their fire. The film is stolen by Vincent Piazza as Tommy DeVito, an overly confident and oftentimes loathsome creature who got things going with the group that eventually became the Four Seasons. It’s also a great platform for Christopher Walken to “go Mafia” successfully as an influential mob leader.

Deciding in what voice to present a story is often a challenge: first-person, second, third, or something else. Here we have all the members of the group directly address the camera as they tell certain parts of the story. That may have worked well on stage when you have a live audience, but breaking the fourth wall is a dicey choice. We get used to it as viewers, but part of me wanted the scriptwriter and director to find another way of showing me what they wanted me to know and feel rather than telling me.

Then there’s the credit sequence at the end. I flashed back to Slumdog Millionaire, and the comparison wasn’t in the newer film’s favor. Not quite sure what was advanced by doing that.

When all is said and done, however, one’s enjoyment of the film will likely be predicated upon one’s enjoyment of the music. With the smallest apologies to those who’ve seen the film and paid close attention, it’s the film’s ace in the hole.

Posted in Film Reviews, Newer films | Leave a comment

The Monuments Men

Posted on July 5, 2014 by Mark DuPré

I hesitated to write about this film, but have recently noticed that it is at the top of the rental charts. If a number of people are going to see it, a review seems necessary.

The Monuments Men is a rather poorly made film based on what seemed a surefire story idea—the work of a motley crew of men commissioned by President Roosevelt during World War Two to search for art masterpieces stolen by the Nazis and return them to their rightful owners. The story itself is the strongest and most enjoyable aspect of the film, and if that’s enough for a viewer, then the film should get by on those merits.

Unhappily, that strong story element is almost undone by the film itself. The ragtag group of men—a staple of every other Western, espionage and search film—is comprised of some of the most famous actors currently working: George Clooney (working as co-screenwriter and director as well), Matt Damon, Bill Murray, John Goodman, Jean Dujardin (recent Oscar-winner for The Artist), Downton Abbey’s Hugh Bonneville, Bob Balaban, and Cate Blanchett. And believe it or not, that’s one of the biggest problems, or rather, the direction of these fine actors is one of the biggest problems.

Most of them seem to be in their own, separate film. Clooney is back to his shaken-head acting style of the ‘90s, with nary a hint of the skill he demonstrated in Syriana or The Descendants. It’s the most half-hearted, limp performance we’ve seen from him in years; he’s phoning it in. Damon is ever the hardworking professional, but his story arc pulls him into a side story, and he has little chance to raise the film with his interaction with the other men. Bonneville gives the stiff-upper-lip try that the disciplined British are known for, but has little connection with the others. Murray is pretty much always in his own film.

Blanchett is part of that same story line as Damon, and seems in yet another film entirely. She plays an introverted Parisian curator who is forced against her will to work with the Nazis in their nefarious schemes. She, unlike the men (except for Damon) plays her role nearly as deeply and darkly as Streep in August: Osage County, without the drama and profanity. Blanchett, still obviously a beautiful woman (see Blue Jasmine for the most recent proof), is at the center of a “take off her glasses and OMG she’s beautiful!” moment that fails to capture her beauty and only captures the character’s desperate loneliness. In another film, it would be a quietly touching moment. It’s fine work, and is lost and out of place in the film.

That’s not her fault. The film can’t make up its mind whether it’s The Guns of Navarone or Ocean’s Fourteen. The tone varies wildly from 1940’s deadly serious to modern deadly serious to a jaunty all-star adventure where the actors are clearly have more fun than the audience. The shifts from real to silly are jarring and wrenching, and keep us guessing what the film is trying to be. Is it Stalag 17 or Hogan’s Heroes? Perhaps it’s trying for both, but that doesn’t work. When the work by a tertiary character such as Dimitri Leonidas’ Sam Epstein is a breath of fresh air just by being normal, straightforward and believable, you know the film can’t make up its mind.

The script is the other part of the problem. Its exposition is so embarrassingly for the audience that it’s uncomfortable, with Clooney ‘splaining things to the president that no one would in their right mind would condescend to tell the ruler of the free world at that time, complete with maps of Europe that help instruct FDR [that is, us] where France and Germany are. The script decides that we need two specific works of art to represent the cache of the missing pieces, and follows them awkwardly through to their eventual discovery. It’s dramatically satisfying to see if they can retrieve those specific pieces, but we lose the scope of the triumph in the process.

The truly sorry thing about The Monuments Men isn’t the jumble of a cinematic experience that it is. That’s painful enough. It’s that now the great film that could have been made on this subject will likely never be created.

Posted in Film Reviews, Newer films | Leave a comment

A Thought About Film Lists

Posted on June 29, 2014 by Mark DuPré

Recently, a new listing of supposedly “great” films came out. It was done by Hollywood professionals, which suggests there is some validity to the rankings. I am not going to be more specific about it, as it would be healthier not to find it. The rankings are ridiculous, and point to the subjectivity and self-serving nature of the list. It also points to the short-sighted, ahistorical, chauvinistic tendencies of the group (which is much less a criticism than a clear-eyed description). Too many are recent, too many are more popular than great, and too many are American. The key here is that the list is actually given as Hollywood professionals’ “favorite” films. Heaven forbid anyone should think of this as a ranking based on quality.

Of course, there is no definitive film ranking. Even the most respected, the Sight and Sound magazine rankings that come out every decade, and include directors and critics, has some fascinating developments as you watch the changes over the years. I love Hitchcock’s Vertigo, but to vote it the number one film of all times, as the critics’ group did—not sure I can go with that. I delighted in seeing it move up the ranks over the years, and was glad it was getting the respect it deserves. But putting it on top? Not so sure about that.

Of course all lists are subjective, and they serve best as a general guide to what “some people” consider great work, and as a starting point for discussion. Andrew Sarris, the famed critic who introduced the auteur theory to the US, knew what he was doing when he had the nerve to rank great directors. It began a discussion that hasn’t abated since.

When my students ask how they can establish a better base of film understanding by seeing a lot of different films, I tell them to go to the AFI (American Film Institute) list of Top 100 and start there. No, that’s not necessarily a list of the best, but it’s more of a wisely considered opinion of various films by people who know more than most of us. That, and the fact that my students learn more at this stage of their learning process from American films than those that pose cultural barriers, make the list a great starting point for those just getting their cinematic feet wet.

If ever anyone says they’ve done the list and want more, I would sent them to the most recent Sight and Sound listing and begin to go deeper and wider with those films.

Lists will always be subjective, fun and wildly inconclusive. That’s OK. But please note that the latest list says “favorite,” not “best,” and not even “good.” If that starts a conversation about favorites, great. If it’s given weight on what’s best, we’re in trouble.

Posted in Film-Related Articles | Leave a comment

The Fault in Our Stars

Posted on June 14, 2014 by Mark DuPré

The Fault in Our Stars is a meticulously photographed and acted film containing some of the best acting you’ll likely see all year. It’s also a Young Adult tearjerker, and if that genre is not one of the viewer’s favorites, that fact can compromise one’s enjoyment. The film—believe it or not—reminds one a bit of the superhero and X-Men films of late. The genre may not be your favorite, but the dedication, commitment and fine acting we find there has an integrity all its own.

The Fault in Our Stars is about Hazel (Shailene Woodley), a young intelligent woman dying of cancer. In a poorly presented and unfortunately conceived support group, she meets young, handsome, winsome cancer survivor Gus (Ansel Elgort), who has a prosthetic left leg and more charm than a Disney prince.

There is nothing really new here. There is the requisite slow falling-in-love track throughout, and the requisite “unexpected” twist. But while adhering to the rules of the genre, it fills every possible blank space with life and its own truth. You can argue convincingly that Gus is too perfect, the film is too long by 20 minutes, and that the trip to Amsterdam is impossible and shoe-horned in for the scenery and change of pace. Yet objections ultimately crumble and fall at the high level of acting and the complete commitment to each moment that the film offers.

Shailene Woodley isn’t the only reason to see this film, but her performance would be enough to. After The Descendants, it became obvious that this was an excellent young actress with great promise. Her role in Divergent only showed that yes, she could carry a film—hardly a surprise. Here she gives what may be the best performance by an American actress this year so far, and perhaps still the best by the end of the year. She makes every moment both real and alive. Every small look, every quick thought passing through her mind, every line that could have been eye-rollingly clichéd—she delivers them as if they had just sprung up from her heart or mind. Her arc, from shut down and slightly bitter to open-minded and openhearted, is both par for the genre’s course and completely believable in her capable hands. Much more could be said, but suffice it to say that her performance is both great and enjoyable.

Elgort, as he perhaps should be, is not quite in her league, but is excellent. He isn’t called to go to the places Woodley is called to as an actress, but finds his character and stays in it the whole time. Their interaction is real and a joy to behold, as characters in the film and as fine young actors doing stellar work.

As Hazel’s mother, Laura Dern returns to first-tier acting and helps fulfill her early promise as a younger actress. As “in the moment” as the two younger actors are, Dern hits her notes nearly perfectly as an almost over-concerned mother. We sometimes laugh at her when we see her through Hazel’s eyes, but we always return to respecting and understanding her mother’s aching heart. From her way of rushing into Hazel’s bedroom at the first sign of possible trouble to her constant efforts to remain positive—against all odds and common sense—Dern is absolutely convincing, helping to balance the film by bringing strong acting to the older generation and helping us to see the effects of the disease on the caretakers.

Sam Trammell as the father isn’t quite a perfect fit. Looking like a cross between Colin Farrell and Brad Pitt, he doesn’t look old enough to be Hazel’s father, in spite of the facial hair. He also isn’t in the same acting league as Woodley and Dern. Yet even with that said, the film uses him well by pushing him a little into the background, which is not inappropriate. A teenage girl would most likely be closer to her mother, who is the comforter and here, the more emotional parent. Many dads don’t quite know how to connect with a teenage daughter, much less a sharp-edged one dying of cancer who verbally pushes one away as quickly as she would say hello. So what seems at first like an acting weakness is actually of a part with the film’s success at portraying a concerned but unsure father who is in the background, but is always there, always hoping to provide some comfort and strength.

There are a few negatives. The subplot of the American author now living in Amsterdam is never really a good fit structurally. Yes, it provides a new background for some of the action, but the whole sequence is little more than an elongated romantic montage from an ‘80s film. The author, a distracting but solid Willem Dafoe, doesn’t quite work as a plot device. He strings some activities together for our leads, but ultimately provides little more than a bit of harsh fresh air and a common enemy for our leads—as if they needed one more.

There has been a little controversy about whether or not the film’s treatment of the support group is anti-Christian. Though author (of the book) John Green self-describes as a Christian, he admits having trouble doing so because of some of its connotations. That tension is evident in the handling of the support group, which comes off (ho-hum) as an unhelpful if well-intentioned group led by a cancer-survivor nerd (And really, testicular cancer? Can we be any more obvious and insulting?) The “literal heart of Jesus” aspect is borderline offensive or ridiculous, depending on your mood. In a film that treats every other person with respect, it’s sad to see yet another portrayal of Christians (or at least folks professing to be) as out-of-touch and worthy of just a touch of disdain. It’s out of character with the rest of the film, and there simply isn’t a dramatic need to go in that direction.

Lastly, there is also a little brouhaha (spoiler alert) about having the leads’ first kiss be in the Anne Frank museum in Amsterdam. From a historical, mature adult point of view, it can be seen as insensitive at best. In terms of the romance and demands of Young Adult fiction, however, the film builds up to it in a way that makes it work dramatically.

What doesn’t work is the previous few minutes just before The Kiss. While poor Hazel is making her way up staircase after staircase lugging her heavy oxygen tank, the background vocal presentations about Frank over-make the case of the struggles Hazel and Anne Frank have/had in common. It’s overdone in terms of the story and could be seen as either far too overdramatic for Hazel’s character or far too indifferent to the plight of Frank or any of the Jews suffering under Hitler.

These quibbles aside, The Fault in Our Stars is a feast of good acting, and a classic demonstration of what can be done to elevate a less-respected genre. Great acting and full commitment to the moment can cover a multitude of genre clichés. There is much more reason to see it than to enjoy Woodley’s fine acting, yet that one central performance would be enough. A star was born in The Descendants. Here, it’s burst forth.

Posted in Film Reviews, Newer films | 1 Comment

X-Men: Days of Future Past

Posted on June 7, 2014 by Mark DuPré

It’s nearly impossible to pry this film from its many contexts to just judge on its own merits as a film. Is there a context that exists for this film to be viewed “objectively”? I think not.

It’s number 7 in the X-Men series, counting the various Wolverine iterations. It’s a “fun summer movie” not meant to be analyzed. It’s a fanboy’s dream, with past and future crashing into one another. It’s also stuffed to the gills with so many good actors, some Oscar winners and some “just” nominees, but all so talented, that it rivals the greatest films in history in terms of casting and thespian talent: Hugh Jackman, James McAvoy, Michael Fassbender, Jennifer Lawrence, Halle Barry, Anna Paquin, Ellen Page, Peter Dinklage, Omar Sy, and, oh yes, Patrick Stewart and Ian McKellen. And that’s just for starters.

Perhaps the abundance of talent, the two time frames, and the accompanying two X-Men casts have pressed the fanboy button just a bit too much, and have set some reviewers into raves of ecstasy. The film is enjoyable, but its stock will fall over time, and it will find its rightful middle place in the oeuvre.

The film may have a great cast, but only makes great use of two excellent actors and one beloved one. James McAvoy and Michael Fassbender get to show their acting skills, with the weight falling more on McAvoy, who obliges well (though with too tight a camera at times). Stewart and McKellen don’t phone anything in but they don’t have that much to do. Lawrence, still the “It Girl” until Shailene Woodley displaces her, leaves her acting skills at home and shows us her fighting skills instead. The talented Ellen Page is called upon to hold her hands up to Jackman’s head for a very long time and look tired. The talented Sy, so delightful in The Intouchables—for which he won the Best Actor César Award—has very little to do and he does it covered up to the point of near unrecognizability. Same for Halle Berry, except we can see her beauty shine through. And Dinklage is fine, though he did better film work in The Station Agent.

The best thing the film does is to use Wolverine to hold things together. Jackman’s best role by far, Wolverine is always a little out of place and time, which holds the two time frames together well; he doesn’t really fit into either place. Wolverine is also—due in great part to Jackman’s performances—the most sympathetic of the X-Men, and one that most viewers would enjoy taking the journey with through time. The only negative is the shot that shows us what incredible shape the man is still in—a shot that completely redefines the word gratuitous.

For several reasons, the film doesn’t add up to the sum of its incredible parts. The balance between the future and the past doesn’t quite work. (And what is it with our love for the ‘70s and Marvel Comics? We just had the newest ‘70s film with Captain America: The Winter Soldier.) Since we don’t start in the present, we’re given a rather abrupt intro into the typically blue-grey dystopian world of the near future. (And if I don’t have to type the word dystopian again for a year, I’d be happy.) We don’t become familiar enough with it to care as much as we should, and since we know that the series isn’t going to end, the outcome is as predictable as a TV crime drama with the lead in “mortal” danger.

Then the actual plot line is a problem. With The Avengers, we had a battle that resonated with meaning; we had a knockdown, drag-out worthy of the best action films accompanied by the brand-new and perhaps tentative unity of a bunch of superheroes with issues. Here we have some destruction, but it simply shows how mean the mean people are. The climax (of sorts) is whether Raven/Mystique (Lawrence) is going to shoot someone. We already know the answer, and while the film tries to provide us with reasons why Raven would be acting this way, she comes off as someone more stubborn and self-centered than as one struggling with her internal issues as she seeks her “justice.” The climactic moment is tense to some degree, but is far too stretched out (must everything be down to the last nanosecond?) and not quite weighty enough to support the two time frames, the time travel, the extensive cast and the idea of the entire future of the mutants.

On the one hand, it’s refreshing to see New York City survive. And not every superhero movie has to end with a battle royale. The attempt to narrow the scope of the plotline is admirable. Yet even with the confines of a superhero world, the climax isn’t quite believable, and it’s too thin a plotline to support the film.

For fans, just another entry in the series is a cause for celebration. For the rest of us, it’s an action-packed, imbalanced film with a great, mostly underutilized cast. Yet for all of us, it is a visit to a fairly well defined alternate universe with strong (and now familiar) characters, with the presence of some of the best actors of our times.

Posted in Film Reviews, Newer films | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

The Amazing Spider-Man 2

Posted on May 19, 2014 by Mark DuPré

Full disclosure: I live just outside of Rochester, New York, where several of the sequences for The Amazing Spider-Man 2 were filmed. So the film has achieved a status here far larger than the run-of-the-mill superhero sequel-to-the-reboot. While it was fun to see recognizable streets in the first set piece, the cool factor didn’t make any significant difference.

The film is a disappointment. It has many enjoyable elements, but it’s something of a structural mess. What’s good are the leads and the flying sequences. Real-life couple Andrew Garfield (The Social Network, and oh, yes, got nominated for a Tony for the 2012 Broadway revival of Death of a Salesman) and Emma Stone (The Help; Crazy, Stupid, Love.) are the heart of the film, and any scene with them lifts the film. They are both accomplished actors with great careers ahead of them, and their chemistry here is a delight and the backbone of the film. One reviewer called them as cute as a box of puppies, and he was right. They both pop off the screen individually, and together are a special effect that leaves any digital FX in the dust.

Also solid as always is Sally Field, reprising her role as Aunt May. Field is one of those actors who can almost do no wrong on screen, and her scenes with Garfield—especially the more serious ones—add weight and depth to the film. Dane DeHaan (better known for TV work such as True Blood and In Treatment than for any film work up to this point) as Harry Osborn is a genuinely disturbing screen presence whose vibe outweighs his acting style at this point. It works for this film, but one wonders what direction his career might take.

One subplot brings the humanity of the actors into the storyline itself. Peter has a chance to find out more about his father in an unexpected way, and while these moments in action films always are short and ended with interruption, it’s a fine acting moment and brings a deeply felt moment into the middle of the action—a welcome touch.

The flying sequences seem more joyous than ever, which is more consistent with Peter Parker’s occasional devil-may-care attitude. We get closer than ever to experiencing what Peter does as he soars above Manhattan and glides through skyscraper caverns. Toward the end, the film allows us to get even closer to Spidey’s experiences as it breaks down his thinking and acting in a way reminiscent of how Sherlock is represented in current films and miniseries.

Jamie Foxx is saddled with a pitiful villain in Electro. His character and character arc are a mess. Is he an undiscovered (or overlooked) near-genius, or just a creepy guy with self-esteem issues? Either way, there is not enough support for his “turn to the dark side.” Not being a fan of the comics, I can only assume that there is more of a foundation in the comics for his creation than this film supplies. His tenuous connection with Spider-Man and his apparent subsequent disappointment with Spidey’s lack of attentiveness is simply embarrassing. There’s simply not enough here to justify his behavior, and what’s there doesn’t work.

Then when [spoiler alert] Harry Osborn goes bad, it’s a matter of too little too late. Electro has been positioned as the main bad guy, so when the Green Goblin appears, the film becomes even more unbalanced. Two villains make for one confusing set of conflicts.

Or should I say three? Paul Giamatti makes an early and late appearance as Aleksei Sytsevich. Giamatti proves here that a good actor can’t necessarily do everything. He looks rather ridiculous as the over-the-top evil character, and one can only hope that this is the last time we see such a poorly-thought pairing of actor and character. Jordan Schofield is up to play the character in the next film. Clearly, cooler heads prevailed.

[More spoiler alerting] Losing Gwen is a must for those insisting on fidelity to the original story. But when one has an Emma Stone at one’s disposal and enough actor chemistry between the leads to blow up a city block, one has to wonder about the advantages of sticking to the original source material. Nerds may be happy; the rest of us are mourning, for Gwen’s loss as well as the damage to the series.

Posted in Film Reviews, Newer films | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Captain America: The Winter Soldier

Posted on April 28, 2014 by Mark DuPré

No, it’s not better than The Avengers, but it’s certainly a step above and a step to the side from other superhero films. CAWS brings back the dark days of the paranoid political thrillers of the 1970’s complete with Robert Redford, giving this Marvel creation a cooler, more sinister tone. Creating a world where Captain America (Chris Evans) and The Black Widow (Scarlett Johansson) can co-exist with the ins and outs of political intrigue is almost as big a triumph as making a film where all the superheroes get equal time and yet work together (The Avengers).

Of course the film has the prerequisite fights and scenes of massive destruction (can someone please come up with a reasonable alternative for destroying streets and large buildings?). The fight scenes are well done when things are filmed on a more comprehensive, massive scale; less so with the more intimate, “this time it’s personal” face-offs between CA and The Winter Soldier. The latter are a bit clunky at times.

Marvel is working on several levels at once to bring out the danger posed to SHIELD by Hydra. For those not on top of all this, our allegiance is to SHIELD (sort of), but we have lots of doubts about who the good guys and the bad guys are and who is working what angle. Hydra is an embedded group within SHIELD and they are the bad guys. Not being a comic book. Marvel or superhero nerd, that’s the best I can do. But the questions about loyalty, good causes, and who is really doing what to whom—those things that infused the ‘70’s political films—work well with the SHIELD/Hydra dynamic. The doubts that CA has with the modern world of warfare, intelligence gathering and the multi-layered agendas of everyone around him are stronger here than the first time around, and fit in snugly with the film’s landscape of intrigue and shadows.

The look of the film reflects the political undertones. This is a cooler color palette than we’re used to seeing, which dovetails nicely with the subdued tone of the film. What makes the film almost too cool at times is Evan’s performance. The New York Times rightly called Evans a “recessive screen presence,” and he underplays perhaps too much. We don’t need to see IronMan’s snark, the Hulk’s energy, Hawkeye’s intensity, or Thor’s princely breadth. But it would be nice to see a little more passion accompany this hero’s second thoughts and misgivings. But Evans still conveys a old-fashioned centered morality that few others could come close to.

The film gives Scarlett Johansson a much greater role than the first time around, and while she is often as underplayed as Evans, she brings an intelligence, humor and intensity to her role that balances CA nicely. The screenwriters also give her a good amount of humor, much is which is aimed at CA, which gives us all a breather from his quiet stolidity.

The two additions that command attention and screen time are the Winter Soldier (Sebastian Stan) himself and another sort of superhero, Falcon (Anthony Mackie), also known as Sam. The Winter Soldier drives the plot, but is an imprecise screen presence, even with the emotional backstory they give him. Not sure if it’s the writing or the performance, but he doesn’t quite bring much more than a slight dark menace to the film, even while he admittedly “brings it” in the fighting scenes.

Much more successful an entry is made by Mackie (previously best known for The Hurt Locker), who owns the screen when he’s on, and brings a fully rounded, likable character to the series. He brings depth when necessary, as well as humor and a believable fighting style. Not sure if he can carry a superhero film of his own, but he sure brings a good deal of weight to this film.

It’s also nice to see Jenny Agutter slip out of her nun’s outfit in Call the Midwife and show up as a strong international leader.

As many have noted, what sets this apart is the retro vibe of films such as Three Days of the Condor and The Parallax View, among many others. If you let go, you are drawn into a tale here of shadows and intrigue, wondering what is real and who you can trust. As oxymoronic as it might seem, there is an intelligence here that doesn’t just bring a superhero story down to earth, but under the earth into caves and shadows of conspiracy and double- and triple-dealing where we begin to question everything and everyone. That’s quite a feat for a movie featuring a “Capsicle” from the ‘40s, another old soldier “reborn” and refit with a new and powerful arm, and a guy who can fly. We accept all of them and all of the political treachery as well. A risky combination, and it works.

Posted in Film Reviews, Newer films | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Noah

Posted on April 27, 2014 by Mark DuPré

What a fascinating mess Noah is. It’s beautiful to look at, epic in scope, has solid and committed acting, and is, in far too many ways, completely ridiculous.

Anyone expecting any real fidelity to the Biblical story of Noah will be disappointed, insulted, or horrified. It’s understandable that a film based on a rather thin amount of text has to be fleshed out in some ways. After all, we need conversations and connective tissue. But what Noah does is ignore half the text it’s based on and add mystical elements not only not in the text, but at odds with it.

The Biblical God is one who made a covenant with Noah. Director Darren Aronofsky’s (with co-writer Ari Handel) has “the Creator” instead, one who speaks in confusing dreams and whose power is shown through crystal-like shining bits of light. It’s also not clear that the tear Noah goes on while on the boat about assuming that everyone is supposed to die—and therefore his upcoming grandchild’s birth will have to mean its death if it is a girl (huh?)—is “inspired” by God or madness.

It would take an article much longer than this to tell what is missing from the original story that is worth filming, and what is added that is not. Others have done a good job of that, including an intense, occasionally brutal article highlighting the pagan elements of the additions (http://americanvision.org/10440/aronofskys-noah-a-panoply-of-jewish-paganism/).

But some of the changes must be noted. The Bible has Noah entering the ark with his wife, his three sons and their wives. The film decides to add an adopted daughter as one wife, and leaves the other men single but longing. In fact, it leaves the other two as a teen and the other a boy, and the need for wives becomes a dramatic issue with Noah’s wife and a major bone of contention with Ham, the one who becomes the outcast. He is presented here as the middle child, and it’s true that most Bible references to Ham place him in the middle. But Genesis 9:24 calls him Noah’s youngest. Did no one read the actual Biblical text closely?

A famous film line of the ‘90s was from Jerry McGuire: “You had me at hello.” Well, the film began to lose me about one minute in with “the Watchers.” These are rocky Transformer-like creatures that might be fallen angels with a strange backstory, but whose appearance in a Biblically based film would be somewhere between ludicrous and borderline sacrilegious if it weren’t simply so bizarre. They are presented with utmost seriousness, but still end up a combination of Treebeard and Optimus Prime.

Then there is the modern-day ecology slant. Now that ecological concern is the new religion, Aronofsky could almost get away with throwing in such a modern perspective. But he doesn’t, and it doesn’t work. The film itself makes it clear from the start that man’s wickedness is the reason for the judgment, but then the emphasis on man’s sin becomes focused on his lack of care of the earth, not other minor concerns like murder, rape and pillaging. In fact, the villain Tubel-Cain (who is a Biblical character having absolutely nothing to do with Noah and the ark), who crazily ends up stowing away on the ark, is the mouthpiece for today’s extreme ecological position that the earth would have been better off without man. In fact, his character demonizes the Biblical injunction to have dominion over the earth by associating dominion with destruction and exploitation.

Then there is Methuselah, the oldest man who ever lived. Yes, he was Noah’s grandfather, but there are no conversations recorded between the two. Here he’s presented as a kind of old wizard, a completely anti-Biblical characterization. Any scene with him is from the screenwriters, not the Bible. And can someone other than Anthony Hopkins please be cast as the wise old man with great dignity and power?

A typical mistake of Bible reading is to assume that because something is written right after after something else, it must have happened right after. It’s doubtful that Aronofsky, an admitted atheist, is up to speed on such things. And it hurts the film. It’s true that the Bible has Noah getting drunk, but any study of this passage indicates that it happened years after landing, when Ham’s son Canaan was born. The film takes this incident and reverse-engineers it by having Noah go bonkers on the ark to prepare the character for such behavior. Anyone reading Genesis once, cursorily, knows that Noah wasn’t set on the destruction of everyone, and didn’t threaten his grandchildren’s lives, or grow half-insane and isolationist.

The film is admittedly stunning to look at, with scenes of great geographical beauty combined with silhouette work reminiscent of William Cameron Menzies’ in Gone with the Wind. One has to find a set that works, and the rough beauty of the terrain adds weight and a degree of credibility to many of the scenes.

The actors also give it their all. Few have the authority on screen of a Russell Crowe, and even while the script has him go in directions that would fell a lesser actor, Crowe commits, every second. Jennifer Connelly joins him for a second time as spouse (A Beautiful Mind), and again plays the patient wife of a mentally disturbed man of many talents. She gives her all as well, though the faux “soft-British” accent comes and goes.

Emma Watson is fine as the made-up adopted daughter. Douglas Booth is fine as well as Shem, but he’s too distractingly pretty and modern-model looking to be believable. Ray Winstone twirls his moustache a bit too much as the anachronistically out-of-place-and-time Tubel-Cain, but his character doesn’t fit here and is too stock-villain to begin with.

The standout here beyond the two leads is Logan Lerman (The Perks of Being a Wallflower and Percy Jackson: Sea of Monsters) as Ham. Lerman can act and has screen presence to beat the band. He has a huge career ahead of him.

There hasn’t quite been a film like Noah, and there isn’t likely ever to be one again. A true analysis of how it departs from the Biblical story would take a master’s thesis to manage. The look, the setting, the acting—all solid. From a biblical viewpoint, the additions range from logical (family conversations—Noah and kin must have talked, of course) to head-bangingly bonkers.

Aronofsky is a serious (and seriously good) director. He takes seriously what he puts on the screen, even when it defies believability. His earnest commitment to his vision almost makes us accept what we see. But his departures from his source material do such damage to his story that we ultimately have to shake our heads in disbelief. Yes, the acting is good and the images are roughly beautiful. Beyond that, it’s all a little crazy.

Posted in Film Reviews, Newer films | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Hallelujah (1929)

Posted on April 20, 2014 by Mark DuPré

Finally filled a gap in my film experience with a viewing of Hallelujah, directed by King Vidor in 1929. It’s another Rorschach test for viewers, who will see any number of things in this second all-black-cast film (and first all-black-cast musical).

Sound was still new, and technically, things are rough. Dialogue is difficult to hear at times, and the sound quality is uneven at best. The quick Hollywood studio style of editing hadn’t arrived, and the film is first stagey, then too slow, then too abrupt. Some of the images retain the beauty of the best of silent film compositions and photography, however, and are lovely to behold.

The experience of Hallelujah is likely to provoke several things these days. The film opens with an apology and a condemnation for the film’s evocation of blacks. For folks with little sense of history or film history, it’s probably best to have that disclaimer. But they might have also added “and Christians” to their disassociation.

Yet while the film might be found insulting to blacks, Christians and black Christians, it’s actually quite respectful once the story begins. The first few scenes are admittedly embarrassing and condescending, but once the plot takes off, genuine respect rather than ridicule is the rule. And here is where the questions get thought-provoking: Is the director making fun of the stereotypical “wide-eyed” black or is that just the last gasp of the melodramatic school of acting that hadn’t yet adjusted to the changes sound would bring to acting? How close are those church scenes to a typical black service of the time and place?

As a white modern Christian, I wouldn’t presume to know, so that means I can’t judge the presentation even while my modern perspectives make me alternatively challenged, amused, horrified, and curious (and often several of these at the same time). It’s tempting to dismiss this as a more modern-day sound version of the kind of the thinking behind Birth of a Nation, but that’s a lazy approach. The legendary Vidor (nominated for Best Director for the film) didn’t have the deep-seated racist sensibility of Griffith, and he’s trying to tell a story and create a world at the same time here. It’s much easier to dismiss this as old-fashioned, racist pap. That would be a big mistake. It’s deeper, richer, and far more complex and beautiful than that. And there are moments of genuine ache

Beyond the socio-political implications, there is a huge “what could have been” factor with this film. Daniel L. Haynes, the lead who made a few other films, has a magnificent singing voice that’s an utter joy to hear. He’s a decent actor, and completely commanded the screen. Why didn’t we see more of him? More attention has been paid to the young Nina Mae McKinney, who later became known as “The Black Garbo.” She was 16 or 17 when the film was made, which makes her romantic scenes with the 39-year-old Haynes a little unsettling in retrospect, but that’s not much different from the two leads of Singin’ in the Rain. McKinney became a popular singer and actress, and she was quite lovely. Unhappily, bad health prevented her from taking what could have been her star-making role in The Duke is Tops, which made Lena Horne a star instead. How sad that the Hollywood of the time didn’t have a place for a talent like this outside of all-black films and shorts.

One delight in the film is seeing the young and unbilled Nicholas Brothers. If you remember them only as adults, seeing them here is quite a shock. They later made some musical shorts with McKinney, and those shorts provide us with a view of their incredible and developing talents while still adolescents.

The church scenes are both wondrous and strange. The world we see sometimes seems alien and unable to be related to, while at other times we feel that we’re taking a trip back in time to an extraordinary communal spiritual experience. Sometimes faith in the film is as cultural as the chitlins that Mom keeps cooking. At other times, it’s simple, real, and profound. In either case, faith isn’t presented as it so often is today—something reserved for the simple and uneducated, or the first manifestation of a pathology.

Hallelujah is unlike any other film as the result of its being a musical with an all-black cast, made at the onset of sound film by a respectful but still white director and featuring a cast of “should have beens” instead of has-beens. It belongs in several categories at once, including its own. A group discussion after a viewing would be fascinating for its intensity and breadth of issues inspired by the film.

Posted in Film Reviews, Older Films | Leave a comment

Let’s Look Over the Fence: A Necessary Correction

Posted on April 18, 2014 by Mark DuPré

In my old theater classes, we were taught that Oklahoma! (1943) was the first Broadway musical where the songs advanced the plot. Called the first “integrated musical,” it has grabbed its rightful spot as the first of the “modern” stage musicals while overshadowing its powerful predecessor.

It was actually Showboat (1927) that was the revolutionary musical, albeit a bit creaky when compared to Oklahoma! Yes, it was more a dramatic musical epic than any kind of “musical comedy,” and its themes of racism, miscegenation, abandonment, despair and alcoholism certainly set it apart—and still does—from other musical stories. But its songs and how they were used were light years ahead of those in vaudeville and other musical revues of the time. “Make Believe,” “Ol’ Man River,” “Can’t Help Lovin’ Dat Man”—these are all classics that carry the story forward as no other show songs had done.

The challenge with people recognizing Showboat for its place in history is that it was a standalone for too long. No one took the ball and ran with it. Rodgers and Hammerstein (the latter being the lyricist of Showboat) reinvented and reinvigorated the integrated musical with Oklahoma! and then others paid attention and copied. Showboat was the first integrated stage musical, but Oklahoma! began the trend.

But the film person in me isn’t content to let the matter lie there. Four years before Oklahoma! there was a little musical that was completely integrated. It just happened to be a film musical featuring a girl from Kansas, a little dog, a scarecrow, a tin man and a timid lion. “Somewhere Over the Rainbow;” “We’re Off to See the Wizard,” “Ding-Dong!, the Witch is Dead,” “If I Only Had a Brain”—these move the story along as well as those in Oklahoma!’s score. It’s just that The Wizard of Oz (1939) was a film.

Perhaps a little more looking over the fence to related art forms would help to clarify and bolster the history of all the arts.

Posted in Film-Related Articles | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment