Thursday, March 11, 2010

From Hell (2001)


This is one of those movies that got me into movies. I was a junior in high school when I first saw it, and I loved it. It, along with several other films, opened my eyes to the kind of artistry that is possible in film. Before this time in my life I had thought of movies as simply entertainment, a way to pass a couple hours of my life.

Watching From Hell now, I can see that it has its problems. It's not a perfect film, but it's still a darn good one. Directed by the Hughes brothers and adapted from Alan Moore's graphic novel by Terry Hayes and Rafael Yglesias, it re-tells the frightening story of Jack the Ripper, and it fictionalizes some answers as to the killer's identity and reasoning for his gruesome murders. The film's conclusions are fascinating and actually kind of make sense.

The protagonist is Inspector Frederick Abberline, played subtly and mysteriously by Johnny Depp. He is investigating the Ripper murders, and he gets a little too close to the truth for the liking of several higher-ups. We soon find out why. The film's conclusions are pessimistic and implicate a number of important people in 1880's England.

This is the most interesting aspect of the film, the way the script leads us to the realization that this string of murders is more complicated than it first appears. And the visual style is excellent. Abberline, an opium addict, has visions of the murders in his sleep; these visions are filmed in an ugly, dreamlike way and capture some of the grisliness that must have been present in the original murders. One of the major focuses of the film is just how disgusted everyone is by the nature of the murders. And it is incredibly dark; I suspect even someone who has no previous knowledge of Jack the Ripper would sense that something terrible is about to happen at nearly every point in the film.

There are some performances that strike me as overacting, but then again, I don't think subtlety is the filmmakers' aim, except in Depp's character. Ian Holm, as the royal family's surgeon, is wonderful, though. I would have liked to have seen him a bit more. I don't really love Heather Graham in her role, but, as is the case with most of her films, she is serviceable and not too distracting from the performances that really matter.

I think the twist ending, such as it is, could be handled a bit better, maybe with more character development or maybe with putting it later in the film. But the scene in which it is revealed is one of the most powerful in the film, so that kind of makes up for any problems.

One of the film's greatest strengths, as I see it, is that it seems impossible to categorize. It is not a horror film, although its subject matter suggest that it could be. It's not really a mystery, either. There are certainly some points of humor, but I would hardly call it a dark comedy. I don't really know what kind of film it is, except for a good one.

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

Wag the Dog (1997)


On one level, I think Barry Levinson's Wag the Dog asks that we not take it too seriously. Yes, there are clever political points, and yes, there is something to be learned here, but I think the first message that must be considered is the film's humorous and satirical intent. If there are political statements or accusations in the film, they are leveled much less severely than in films like The Candidate or Bob Roberts. Levinson handles the political issues softly and almost joyfully; there is no anger in this film. While it certainly has a few not-so-subtle political points to make, it seems like Wag the Dog is more of an exercise in amusement than righteous indignation. Instead of shaking our heads in fury at the film's end, we are left shaking our heads in disbelief. And laughing at some of the jokes.

This could have been a barrier to the film's message, but I think it helps it in this case. This is a fun movie to watch, and I think it has some good things to say about Washington and Hollywood, as well as how Americans can be controlled by the media. I'm not sure I would have been as open to these ideas without the film's humor easing me into them.

It begins with an outlandish (although frighteningly plausible) inciting event: two weeks before an election, the President of the United States behaves less than admirably (think Clinton-Lewinsky) and his adviser Winifred Ames (Anne Heche) and a political spin doctor named Conrad Brean (Robert De Niro) devise a plan to fake a war with Albania, using the news media as their unwitting ally. They enlist Hollywood producer Stanley Motss (Dustin Hoffman in one of his funniest performances) to put together a media campaign concerning the war.

Then Levinson and his actors do a very interesting thing with these characters: they make them likable. We get caught up in the scheme and, although we fully realize what they are doing is deplorable, we kind of want them to succeed. This makes the film work on a narrative level; we have protagonists and objectives and conflict; the only problem is that here our protagonists are lying to the American people in order to win an election. All the while, Wag the Dog remains hilarious.

The idea has been presented that American voters (as well as the news media) are being portrayed as morons for buying into this ridiculous scheme, but I don't think that's true. The film shows Ames, Brean, and Motss going to whatever lengths necessary to insure the facade is believable, so it seems to me that it should be believable to the voters they are trying to dupe. These characters are presented as so crafty and devious that I think the film makes more of a statement about the underhanded and often absurd things people in Washington are willing to do in order to fool us. The American people are victims here.

The film also seems to be saying something about the way in which the political world mirrors Hollywood. The fact that Hoffman's character is so good at putting together this fake campaign is a hilarious indicator of this point. And maybe it's my political paranoia, but I can also sense a theme of media control popping up here and there. All Brean has to do is convince the media of the legitimacy of his fake war. Then they convince the American people for him.

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

Town & Country (2001)


Peter Chelsom's Town & Country is a pretty bad movie that wishes it were a Woody Allen film. There are funny parts, yes, but overall it falls short of anything meaningful or all that entertaining. It begins energetically and then falls flat. There are good performances from Warren Beatty and Diane Keaton, but that is not enough to save this mess of a movie.

Don't get me wrong, I wasn't miserable throughout the entire film. There are some very funny Allen-esque moments. But there is not much value in Town & Country. The narrative becomes so unnecessarily complicated that all of the humor is sucked out of it by the end.

Woody Allen has written and directed 39 films. If you have seen each and every one of these, then you might want to watch Town & Country. If not, you should skip it.

Monday, March 8, 2010

Traffic (2000)


Wow, what a movie. Where do I even begin when discussing Steven Soderbergh's Traffic, a film that so intelligently portrays the moral and logistical complexities of the war on drugs in the United States? This film manages to be both hopeless and hopeful, maybe because it tells several different stories. And it asks questions. Is our drug policy making the problem worse? Is the war on drugs a futile one?

This is one of the very best films of the past decade, which is why I wanted to re-watch it, since I'm making that impossible list. Soderbergh seamlessly cuts between different color-coded stories. One concerns an Ohio judge (Michael Douglas), appointed as the Unites States' drug czar, and his daughter, who becomes addicted to crack because it is so readily available to her. Another concerns two Mexican police officers (Benicio Del Toro and Jacob Vargas) who get caught in the scheming of a Mexican general (Tomas Milian). Another tells the story of the wife (Catherine Zeta-Jones) of one of the most powerful drug dealers in America. Yet another concerns two American federal agents (Don Cheadle and Luis Guzman) who are trying to bring down a major drug operation.

Traffic leaves a lot of openings for discussion on the drug problem, and it doesn't really come to any strong conclusions, leaving the audience to determine their own thoughts about the problem. I can't really discuss much without giving away what happens, but I can say that this is one of the most thoughtful films I have ever seen. Most movies dealing with such topics have a preconceived point of view, hoping to win the audience to their side. I think Soderbergh just wanted to open up the discussion.

If you've seen the film, take a moment to consider its ending. After nearly every measure taken to combat the drug problem fails, we should be left with a completely hopeless feeling. Now consider the way the stories of the Douglas and Cheadle characters end. I don't want to give it away, but I think maybe these stories indicate that we shouldn't give up completely, or maybe that there are more effective ways to battle drugs than what is happening in our government now. Maybe that doesn't make any sense; I don't know.

Every performance is pitch-perfect and the cinematography is breathtaking. See Traffic immediately.

Sunday, March 7, 2010

Masculin Feminin (1966)


Masculin Feminin is Jean-Luc Godard's affectionate film about the generation he calls "the children of Marx and Coca-Cola." This is only the second Godard film I've seen, but I am already becoming a big fan of his.

The film is shot in beautiful black and white and chronicles the daily life of Paul (Jean-Pierre Leaud), a teenager who interviews people for a research firm. We see Paul's political anxiety and his problems with members of the opposite sex, particularly Madeleine (Chantal Goya). All of the teenage characters hang out and smoke cigarettes in Parisian cafes. It's great.

The style of Masculin Feminin is what makes it such an interesting film. Godard doesn't seem to be married to any kind of narrative, and he cuts into the story with titles expressing whatever he wishes the audience to understand at a given moment.

Godard sees the innocence and naivete in these teenagers, yet he takes them completely seriously. This attitude is just as relevant now as it must have been in 1966 (obviously, I can only speculate here), and is just as relevant to me personally as it would have been had I seen it as a teenager. I think maybe now I have a better understanding of that time in my life, and my thoughts about seem to be the same as Godard's. Masculin Feminin is both jubilant and morose. It's one of the best films I've seen in a while.

Saturday, March 6, 2010

Lord of the Flies (1963)


Apparently Peter Brook's Lord of the Flies is a very faithful adaptation of the William Golding novel. I wouldn't know, since I haven't read the book. But after reading about the 1963 film version, this seems to be the best reason anyone can give for why it is such a widely respected and highly regarded film. Maybe I am missing something, but I was very under-impressed by this movie.

Brook used non-actors to play the children who are stranded on a desert island in Lord of the Flies. I have read that this supposedly helps with the film's natural feel, but I think that's a ridiculous claim. The kids are bad; they are not portraying the characters naturally, but rather trying their best to act when they really don't know how. That's the impression I got, anyway.

There are a handful of nice-looking shots in the film, and the black-and-white cinematography is good, too, but I can't see why there is anything too special about this movie, especially considering some of the other amazing films that were being made at the time.

The film seems to fly through the story, taking very little time to dwell on any of the more important themes and even less to develop characters or explain things in the plot. And I can't for the life of me figure out how all these kids are so good with outdoor survival skills.

Lord of the Flies isn't exactly a waste of time, but there are many films that would be better worth an hour and a half.

Friday, March 5, 2010

Shutter Island (2010)


Shutter Island, the new film from Martin Scorsese, got some mixed reviews. I've heard the word "disappointing" thrown around a lot concerning this movie, and I think that is way off base. While I'm not ready to claim that Shutter Island is among Scorsese's best films (that's a pretty tall order), I still think it is a stunning example of what an amazing filmmaker he is. The performances are incredible and the visual style is masterful and perfectly sets the mood of the film.

Mood is everything in Shutter Island. It is a dark, ominous story, and I felt like gloom was surging through my blood as I sat in the theater. Every detail in the film is supportive of this mood, the feeling that something terrible is about to happen. This is film noir meets Hitchcock, and it is abundantly clear that this is Scorsese's intention. The haunting score consists of dark string music and quick notes that punctuate startling moments. The cinematography is made up of dreary grays, and the sky always seems like it's about to storm.

The story, based on the novel by Dennis Lehane, is set in 1954 and concerns a United States Marshall named Teddy Daniels (Leonardo DiCaprio) who, along with his partner Chuck (Mark Ruffalo), is sent to investigate a prison "for the criminally insane" on Shutter Island. A dangerous convict (Emily Mortimer) has escaped and cannot be found. Her disappearance is the initial mystery, since there is nowhere she could have gone on the remote island.

We learn that Teddy has an unseen past, as all good noir heroes do. He is haunted by dreams of his time as a soldier in World War II and dreams of his deceased wife (Michelle Williams) who died in an apartment fire. The mystery becomes about much more than the missing woman. We meet the suspiciously kind Dr. Cawley (Ben Kingsley), the head psychiatrist at the prison as well as Dr. Naehring (Max von Sydow), whom Teddy suspects is a former Nazi. They are hiding something, Teddy is sure. The mystery becomes more intricate.

The casting is perfect. This is one of DiCaprio's best performances (although there are many great ones to choose from). He plays Teddy with a sense of anguish and hardness that is essential to the film. Ruffalo is equally good with his portrayal of the loyal partner, helping Teddy put together the pieces of the mystery. Kingsley and von Sydow play their antagonist roles with a suspicious, sinister air that lurks just below the surface. There are also wonderfully frightening brief performances from Williams, Mortimer, Patricia Clarkson, Jackie Earl Haley, Ted Levine, John Carrol Lynch, Elias Koteas, and Patricia Clarkson. This is one of the best casts I've seen in a long time.

The only problem I have here is with the screenplay. It's not bad, it's just that the twist ending is a little too much, and I'm not sure it entirely makes sense. I'd have to see it again to know for sure. And I would be glad to see it again, because it's really a very good film.