The White Ribbon (2009)

I wasn't immediately sure what to make of Michale Haneke's The White Ribbon. Since seeing it, however, I have not been able to stop thinking about it. Truths about this film have been revealed to me in the time between when I walked out of the theater and now. I think that is its great power. This is a film that works on the audience's intellect. It does not lead us to any clear conclusions, but it forces us to consider our own beliefs and philosophies, as well as our own terrible fears. This is a great, great film.

It is filmed in stunning black and white by Christian Berger, who gets my vote for a best cinematography Oscar. It looks and feels like a Bergman film. There is no score, the pacing is slow and steady, and one of the actors (Burghart Klaussner) looks just like Gunnar Bjornstrand. And the subject matter raises huge questions about both plot and philosophy.

The film concerns a small German village in the years leading up to the first world war. It will be sufficient to say that the plot consists of a number of terrible occurrences happening within the village. A doctor is thrown from his horse when it is tripped by a wire. A child is kidnapped and tortured. A barn is burned to the ground. The villagers are unsure of the culprit, or culprits. My first instinct, as I'm sure will be the case with many others, was to try to find out who had committed these crimes. But they are presented in a way that makes this impossible. This is not a detective story. There are many suspects, but the real conflict in the film is that there is really no good motive or evidence to tie anyone to the atrocities. Were they committed by an angry farmer? By a group of children? By God? Or do we simply live in a chaotic world? The film does not attempt to answer, only question. I think this is reflective of an inner human struggle.

It is to Haneke's credit that I spent most of the film terrified that another crime would be committed. I began to be less interested in who did it and more concerned with the notion that more and more terrible things could happen to this village. Sometimes life is that frightening. In the end, the fact that we cannot know who committed the crimes is more disturbing than the crimes themselves.

The White Ribbon is one of the most haunting, thought-provoking films I have seen in quite some time. I have no doubt I will be thinking about it for a very long time.

Revanche (2008)

Revanche is a really cool Austrian crime drama. I think I'd highlight the "drama" part more than the "crime" part. This isn't exactly Goodfellas. But it does involve a criminal, a guy named Alex (Johannes Krisch) who has been recently released from prison. He works as a bouncer for a brothel in Vienna and is in love with one of the prostitutes, Tamara (Irina Potapenko). Their love is a secret, and they live in constant fear of her pimp (Hanno Poschl). Then Alex makes a plan to rob a bank and run away with Tamara. She is reluctant, but agrees to the plan.

This is hardly the entire plot of Revanche, but I don't want to give too much away. A lot happens after the bank robbery, and all of it is interesting. This film works on two levels, as a thriller and as a human drama, and I think that's why it's so good. It is more concerned about character than plot and action.

Written and directed by Gotz Spielmann, it is filmed beautifully and acted with a natural power. This is a rare, contemplative thriller. Highly recommended.

Note: 2009 U.S. Release.

Lars and the Real Girl (2007)

I expected to like Lars and the Real Girl, but I didn't expect to like it this much. This is a kindhearted and sincere film. It could have been overly cute and quirky, but that is reined in in favor of characters who are real and lovable. The first thing I noticed was how naturally these characters speak. They don't talk like people in movies, they talk like people you talk to after church or at office parties or family dinners. Maybe that's one reason their actions are so powerful. We expect great kindnesses from people in the movies, not so much from people we run into on the street.

Directed by David Gillespie, the film is about a young guy named Lars (Ryan Gosling) who is extremely shy and socially awkward, although very likable and sweet. He's the kind of guy you can identify with if you're not a douchebag. Lars lives in the garage of a house he and his brother Gus (Paul Schneider) inherited from their father. Gus lives in the house with his pregnant wife, Karin (Emily Mortimer in a sweet, earnest performance), and they softly try to pull Lars out of his shell. Usually this is in the form of a dinner invitation.

One night Lars tells them he is bringing a girl to dinner. Gus and Karin are excited for him, until he arrives with a life-size sex doll he calls Bianca. He tells them Bianca is the daughter of missionaries and that she is unable to walk. They all sit down to dinner. Gus and Karin are understandably concerned. This is the film's exposition, and it doesn't necessarily play out how you might think.

Lars has not, we discover, ordered Bianca to use her as a sex doll; she simply provides the companionship that he desperately needs. He pushes her around in a wheelchair and brings her to church and neighbor's houses. His family and community slowly begin to understand him, and they eventually begin to treat Bianca the same way Lars does. If this sounds unbelievable, that's because it is. But that's what's so great about this film.

Lars and the Real Girl is also about a town, the small town Lars inhabits. What this town represents is mankind's ability to love. I'm not sure I have ever seen a film do such a good job of embodying the biblical command "love thy neighbor." I can't remember the last time I saw church members portrayed in such a good light. The whole cast exemplifies a firm belief in the goodness and understanding of people. To really get what I'm talking about, you really have to see the movie.

Ryan Gosling never ceases to impress me, even in mediocre movies like The Notebook. He never has to go too far to express his characters' feelings and desires; most of his acting is subtle and inward, but extremely affecting. He has a way of making you want to hug him. This is one of his best roles. And Patricia Clarkson is fantastic (as always) as the family practice doctor who "treats" Bianca for an illness and uses the time to get to know Lars. I would say hers is the second most identifiable character.

This film is funny and touching. See it if you haven't.

Precious (2009)

This is not an easy movie to watch.

Precious is both relentlessly heartbreaking and relentlessly hopeful, which is usually a recipe for a good, thoughtful film. This is no exception. The best thing about Precious is its message of individual worth and the idea that every person has the ability to do something positive with his or her life. The subject matter of the film is intensely horrifying, but it's done in a way that is never gratuitous while, at the same time, never lessening in its severity. I think this result is achieved because director Lee Daniels focuses on the psychological aspects of abuse rather than the physical. While we may not see everything that happens to Precious Jones (Gabourey Sidibe), we certainly see all of its effects.

The screenplay has been adapted by Geoffrey Fletcher from Push, a novel by Sapphire. It tells the story of a girl who is abused, illiterate, obese, sad and seemingly hopeless. Precious has a two-year-old and is pregnant with another child; both her children were conceived in rape by her father. Her mother, Mary (Mo'Nique in a performance I'm sure you've heard about) accuses Precious of "stealing her man," and abuses her physically and psychologically.

This should seem like a story of overwhelming despair, and for a while, that's exactly what it is. The film's shining ray of hope comes from two characters: Precious' alternative-school teacher Ms. Rain (Paula Patton) and her social worker Ms. Weiss (Mariah Carey). These are two women who are clearly capable of love. Through this film, Daniels has shown just what love like that can do.

If this sounds cheesy, forgive me; it's my fault and certainly not the film's. Daniels has managed to strike the perfect balance between sadness and hope so that Precious is neither ultimately dreary and depressing or touchey-feeley and Hallmark-y.

Mo'Nique is almost sure to win an Oscar for her role, and, I must say, it would be well-deserved. She plays Mary with an evil we don't often see in films, probably because it would be too terrifying if it happened all the time. But she understands the reasons for her character's hatred, so we discover that Mary is not purely evil, but a victim herself, in certain ways. That is another thing I appreciate about this film: every character has reasons for being the way they are; there is a reason for everything that happens. It would have been lazy to have played out the drama without showing the causes of all this sadness.

I cannot recommend this movie enough.

All the President's Men (1976)

We watched All the President's Men in my Politics and Film class yesterday. I had never seen it before, but had been meaning to for some time. I was not disappointed.

I'm feeling lazy today, so I'm just going to say that this is a good film because director Alan Pakula manages to make something that should be incredibly boring and snore-inducing into an engrossing, suspenseful story without adding anything dumb like car chases or explosions or sex scenes or, really, anything you'd see in a Hollywood movie. I am just as entertained watching Robert Redford scribble down notes while talking on the telephone and watching Dustin Hoffman subtly convince a young woman to give him information as I am when I watch Bruce Willis shoot bad guys in Die Hard. That is a great credit to Pakula for pacing this film perfectly, and to Redford and Hoffman for acting the hell out of their roles.

If you didn't know, All the President's Men is about Watergate and how two journalists connected the dots from the initial break-in all the way to President Nixon. This is a great film.

Five Minutes of Heaven (2009)

In catching up on some overlooked titles of the past year, I came across Five Minutes of Heaven, an Irish movie directed by Oliver Hirschbiegel that is a half-true story about Catholic-Protestant conflict in Northern Ireland during the 1970s.

The part that is true is that in 1975, Alistair Little, a seventeen-year-old Protestant, killed Jim Griffin, a Catholic. Griffin's 11-year-old brother, Joe, witnessed the murder.

The part that is fictionalized is set in the present day, and tells what would happen if Alistair Little and Joe Griffin were brought together to be reconciled on a television show. At this point in the film, Little (Liam Neeson) has recently been released from prison and now holds reconciliation workshops for people involved in the aforementioned conflict. Griffin (James Nesbitt), is an extremely bitter, vengeful and confused man, not least of all, we learn through flashbacks, because his mother blamed him for his brother's death.

This part of the film is highly engrossing, since we get a look at the psychology of this character. Unfortunately, the movie doesn't maintain this high level of intrigue throughout. The problem is that Nesbitt's character is so much more compelling than Neeson's. This is not the fault of Neeson himself; his acting is wonderful here, as always. But Alistair Little is written kind of uninterestingly by screenwriter Guy Hibbert. He is sorry for what he has done, but that's all the information we have. Throughout the film, his only concern is for Griffin's well-being. The audience is given no reason to believe that he would now be such a good person. Maybe if we were shown his journey of regret and redemption it would make more sense, but, unfortunately for the film, he does his changing off-screen.

Joe Griffin, on the other hand, is a well-written character. Hirschbiegel does a nice job of keeping a moderate level of suspense running throughout the film, as we wonder if Griffin will ever take the revenge he wants so desperately. And Nesbitt does such a wonderful job portraying him. His charged, impassioned performance is the highlight of the film.

I would recommend Five Minutes of Heaven, but with some reservation.

Lake Tahoe (2009)

I can't remember how I heard about Lake Tahoe, but I am so very glad I did. It's part of the Film Movement series, which is this subscription thing you can buy and they'll send you a new film on DVD every month. These are independent, international films that don't get much, if any, U.S. distribution. It's a Mexican film and is directed by Fernando Eimbcke.

The film centers around a teenager named Juan (Diego Catano) who crashes his car. He spends the entire movie trying to find someone who can fix it, but instead, everyone keeps offering him breakfast. He meets an old mechanic who has a dog as his only companion, a young mother who asks him to babysit so she can go to a concert, and a teenage mechanic who is obsessed with martial arts. By the end of the film, we find out why it is so important for him to fix his car.

I think Lake Tahoe is a wonderful movie. Eimbcke has a very distinct visual style. He loves to leave the camera in one place, in a medium shot, and let the action move in and out of the shot. His humor is subtle and clever and he has something important to say with this film. It is reflective and melancholy, and I would highly recommend you add it to your Netflix queue. This is one of the year's best films.

Sunshine (2007)

The first time I saw this movie, I cried. I did not cry when I watched it last night, but I still found it affecting. I will admit that Sunshine works better on a big screen, when the story, characters and conflict are presented hugely and intensely. But I still think this is one of the most underrated films ever.

It's set in the future (I don't remember if it gives a specific date), and the sun is dying. A team of astronauts are sent on a mission (called the "Icarus project") to reignite the sun. This is the second attempt, as the first Icarus team failed, and this is the last chance we have before the sun dies out. I realize this all sounds very hokey, but director Danny Boyle presents it in a serious, contemplative way. This is not a shallow sci-fi thriller, but rather a philosophical meditation on morality and the value of human life. Boyle presents the sun as the central character, both giver and taker of life.

Some people have complained about the film's ending (it takes a surprising turn that I won't ruin for you), but it doesn't bother me at all. I feel like it still fits within the story of what this team is trying to do; it simply presents one more obstacle and branches out a bit stylistically.

I think that's all that needs to be said about Sunshine. This ended up being a short one.

The Last Station (2009)

The Last Station is a film that is carried by actors, and no film can ever be successful if that is the case. And it's not that it's bad, it's just that it's not great. The film never really lives up to the standard set by its performances. But those performances are good on their own, which is why I would recommend you see this movie.

Christopher Plummer has never won an Oscar, and if this turned out to be his first one, you wouldn't hear me complaining. That probably won't be the case, since everyone is predicting Christoph Waltz from Inglourious Basterds (who would also be a good winner), but I think this will be a memorable role in Plummer's career nonetheless. He plays Leo Tolstoy, the great Russian novelist, in this film about the last days of Tolstoy's marriage. His wife, Sofya, is played by the incomparable Helen Mirren, and she is just as fantastic here as I have ever seen her. The film's energy comes from these two, as they alternately argue bitterly and love each other passionately. They argue over Tolstoy's will; Sofya wants to assure her children will receive the inheritance from her husband's novels, but he is being persuaded by Chertkov (Paul Giamatti), his loyal Tolstoyian follower, to give his money to the Russian people.

The film also centers around Tolstoy's young assistant Valentin (James McAvoy), who is a devout Tolstoyian. He is sent to by Chertkov to take notes on everything Sofya says. McAvoy is absolutely wonderful in his role as the nervous objective bystander trying to figure out what he believes. And Giamatti is absolutely wonderful as one of the film's antagonists. For all of the discussion surrounding the performances of Plummer and Mirren, in my opinion, the supporting cast matches their brilliance.

Like I said, the problem is that there is just not as much brilliance in the direction or the screenwriting, although those aspects are certainly not bad. They're just above mediocre. The film does make some good observations about love and responsibility, but they're not earth-shattering. Still, The Last Station is worth seeing.

Atonement (2007)

I saw Atonement upon its theatrical release in 2007, when everybody was talking about it, and I loved it, too. But sometimes when I see a film I am really impressed with, I am considerably less impressed than the first time. Other times it works the opposite way; I won't fully appreciate the film until the second time I see it. All I'm saying is that one's evaluation of a movie can change upon multiple viewings. I am pleased to report, however, that when I watched Atonement last night, it was just as astounding as it was the first time.

A lot has been said about the film's performances but, while the acting is certainly terrific, this is undoubtedly a director's movie. What I mean is that Keira Knightley and James McAvoy aren't really the stars of the show, director Joe Wright is. Atonement contains some of the prettiest, most creative shots I have ever seen. And there are so many things in this film (dialogue, score, moods, characters, conflicting styles of cinematography) that simply do not match each other, but Wright does a masterful job of seamlessly connecting them and making them make sense within the story. Under another director, this film could have been a disaster. With Wright at the helm, it's a masterpiece.

The first act of the movie is set in England during the days preceding their involvement in World War II, and the story continues on into the war. Too much explanation of plot would be tedious and confusing, so I'll keep it to a minimum. The story is about many things (it's kind of epic in one way, really) but the important character is a 13-year-old girl named Briony (Saoirse Ronan) who tells a lie out of jealousy and hurt feelings that results in her sister Cecilia's (Knightley) romantic interest Robbie (McAvoy) being sent to prison for something he did not do. He gets out of prison by joining the army, so he and Cecilia do not get to be together. The rest of the film deals with the tragedy of the lives of the lovers and the quest for atonement on the behalf of Briony.

You should look this movie up online for a better summary of what happens. I'm not very adept at explaining the weight of the plot. Here's what Roger Ebert had to say in the first paragraph of his review: "Atonement begins on joyous gossamer wings, and descends into an abyss of tragedy and loss. Its opening scenes in an English country house between the wars are like a dream of elegance, and then a 13-year-old girl sees something she misunderstands, tells a lie and destroys all possibilty of happiness in three lives, including her own." Perhaps that's easier to understand.

Visually, Atonement is fantastic. Wright's directorial devices - dead-on symmetrical shots, fading the background to black behind an actor, the nonlinear narrative, the way the score rhythmically coincides with the editing, the playing of some scenes backwards - are never overstated but always effective. In his own subtle way, Wright is just as ballsy as Tarantino or P.T. Anderson. I think this is overlooked by some, maybe because the movie's subject matter is fairly easily accessible and it's easy to categorize it as a mere period piece.

This is a very moving film, and nothing happens the way you might expect. The ending could be called both happy and sad. With Atonement, Wright asks an important question: can we ever atone for the wrongs we have committed? The film doesn't have an answer, at least I don't believe it does. But it forces us to think about our own misdeeds. If you haven't seen this, I think it's important that you do so soon.

A Mighty Wind (2003)

Christopher Guest has directed four films: Waiting for Guffman, Best in Show, A Mighty Wind, and For Your Consideration. He also co-wrote Rob Reiner's brilliant This is Spinal Tap. These films all have a similar style (they are ridiculous mockumentaries) and each one lives up to its predecessors. Guest has a style of subtle humor that is completely unmatched. He has a way of keeping all of his comedy completely reined in and nuanced while, at the same time, making people laugh so hard they fall out of their chairs. Each of these films is a comedic gem.

I don't really know a better way to critique a Guest film. What I've just written is essentially it. If you've seen his films, you will recognize his humor, although you may find it difficult to describe, as I do. But you will know that his films make you feel joyful, whether you are laughing at the characters or with them.

And I guess that's what I want to discuss here. It has been noted (by me as well as many others, both critics and friends of mine) that A Mighty Wind does considerably more "laughing with" than Guest's other films, which do a bit more "laughing at." This seems to be the most noticeable difference, one that makes this film stand out just a bit. Some have said it hurts the film, that in Waiting for Guffman and Best in Show, Guest was a little more ferocious in making fun of his characters, while in A Mighty Wind he made them a little too relateable. Others see this as a positive aspect that makes this movie a little bit better than his others. I wonder if maybe your opinion on the matter says something about you as a person.

Of course, these differences in tone are subtle, but I do recognize that they exist. I'm not sure how I feel. I'm not ready to claim that the kindness in A Mighty Wind makes it a greater or lesser film than Guest's other works. Maybe it's a coward's way out, but, darn it, I love them all.

Anyway, if you haven't seen these films, you'll want to skip ahead to this paragraph. A Mighty Wind is about the organization of a folk concert featuring fictitious folk groups that were popular in the 60s and are now reunited. It's hilarious.

If anybody has any thoughts on which Guest film is best, let me know. I'm interested to hear your opinions.

Bob Roberts (1992)

Bob Roberts is a sanctimonious film filled with anger and self-righteousness. Now, I know I'm not supposed to bring my own political feelings to a film, but the truth is that that's exactly what Tim Robbins did when he made this film. And I have absolutely no problem with a filmmaker expressing his or her beliefs, political or otherwise, in a movie; in fact, more people should do it. I always try to look at the film on its own terms and there are many films I love but do not necessarily agree with. But the problem here is that Bob Roberts does not set out to convince anyone of anything or express any feelings other than hatred. It is intended to be a satire, but there is nothing real here that is being made fun of. Give me South Park any day.

The movie is about a man named Bob Roberts (Robbins), a Republican running for senate in Pennsylvania. To help with his campaign he has become a popular folk singer (which admittedly is kind of funny) and he sings not-so-subtly about fascist ideals and capitalist greed. Using this tactic, he gains a huge amount of supporters across the nation. He is stupid and evil and, we come to find out, he and his campaign workers are involved in drug trafficking.

This film was obviously made by liberals for liberals. I was not intended to see it, or, if I was, Robbins has made a huge mistake in thinking that anything here could seriously "open the eyes" of anyone who believes differently than he does. But I really don't think that's the case. More likely it was made so that people who do share his exact opinion could share in a few chuckles and a grave frown at the expense of people who do not share his views, for these people are portrayed as idiots in Bob Roberts.

One huge problem is that there is not a character in the film the audience could possibly care about. Bob Roberts is a bastard beyond any conception of humanity, so how are we to recognize any humanity in the film? The answer is that there is none. Roberts is not a character, he is simply a tool for the filmmakers to "expose" the evils of conservatism. And we are shown all of the footage that is shown to his voters. We are never once fooled by his masquerade as a good American candidate, so why should we believe so many voters are fooled? Because these voters are average Americans and Robbins (like most liberals) has a great contempt for average Americans? I guess that's a pretty serious accusation. I don't know.

A good film asks a question and looks for an answer. Bob Roberts begins with an answer in mind and intends to educate or simply ridicule and accuse.

I don't want you to think this movie is an entire waste of time, however. It is pretty effectively filmed as a mockumentary about the election, and there are some genuinely funny moments and terrific performances as well. It's just that all this is in the service of something I don't consider to be all that worthwhile.

I can't help but contrast this with some of the more thoughtful political films I have seen, such as Milk, W. and The Candidate. These are movies with real, human characters. They may be trying to make a political point (some of which I may not agree with), but they respect their audiences enough to allow them to think through the themes. This is not the case with Bob Roberts.

About a Boy (2002)

About a Boy is one of the films that got me into film. I re-watched it this week as part of this project I'm working on: a list of the top 100 films of the past decade. I think it may be good enough to have a spot in said list.

I had loved this movie for a long time, but I also had not seen it in quite a while. I am pleased to say that the comedic moments are still hilarious and the tender moments are still understated and sweet and, most of all, sincere. That may be the greatest thing about this film: its sincerity. I never get the feeling I am being lied to; nothing is taken too seriously or treated too melodramatically. All it attempts to be is a kindhearted movie about some people who really aren't all that bad, and in this endeavor it is successful.

The film is directed by Paul and Chris Weitz, is based on a novel by Nick Hornby, and stars Hugh Grant as Will, a somewhat narcissistic bachelor, and Nicholas Hoult as Marcus, a ten-year-old who is tormented at school. This is not your typical Hugh Grant romantic comedy, although romance is certainly not out of the question in the story. But that's not what it's about. What About a Boy is really about is, well, just that. A boy becoming a man. Actually, two boys, both taking their own respective journeys toward manhood. They are each a huge factor in the other's journey, so it's also about the necessity of other people in our lives. This might not make sense if you haven't seen the film, but if you have, I think you'll get what I mean. At any rate, watching it is a joyous experience.

I would say this is easily Hugh Grant's best role, maybe because he's not completely sweet, not completely charming, but not completely evil. The screenplay gives him a lot more to work with that he usually has, and his supporting cast is terrific as well. Toni Collette, as Marcus's depressed mother, is particularly good.

Also, the soundtrack, by Badly Drawn Boy, rocks.

Make sure to see this movie if you haven't. If you want to know more about it, watch the trailer; I guarantee you'll want to see it.

The House of the Devil (2009)

You might hear something like this come out of the mouth of a horror movie fan: "The House of the Devil is so boring." If a person says this to you, you should regard that person as an idiot. They probably enjoyed all the Texas Chainsaw Massacre remakes and have probably never seen Psycho or Night of the Living Dead. If you are going to read reviews of The House of the Devil, do yourself a favor and read ones written by real critics, not the morons who write for horror magazines. Or you could just take my word for it and see this film. It's very good.

I'm sorry to take aim at horror fans like that. In truth, they're not all slasher-loving imbeciles, but I read a lot online about this movie, fan reactions in particular, and it pissed me off.

Anyway, about The House of the Devil. It's a really good horror film. The problem with 90% of "scary" movies is that there is all payoff and no build-up, but in this one, director Ti West does the exact opposite. There is so much build-up in The House of the Devil that I had nearly pissed myself about halfway through, before anything scary had even happened. This is much scarier that the sick crap that usually passes for horror. I'm sorry, but seeing someone gutted by a meat hook makes me vomit; it does not make me scared.

The first thing I want to discuss is the film's setting. The story takes place in the early 1980's. West explained in a behind-the-scenes featurette that he made this decision because back then it was possible to have a communications breakdown, something that would be impossible now. The thing that impresses me most is the fact that West filmed it like an 80's movie. From the grainy, almost dirty cinematography to the font used for the titles and credits, The House of the Devil is perfectly stylized. And I don't know, but it seems like there's just something creepier about the 80's.

The film is about a college girl named Sam (Jocelin Donahue) who is in dire need of some money so she can pay for an apartment. She sees an ad from a family in need of a babysitter and calls, arranging to babysit that night if they pay her double. She has a friend drive her to the family's scary-looking country house, where she meets Mr. and Mrs. Ulman (Tom Noonan and Mary Woronov looking as disturbingly creepy as I have ever seen any two actors). They inform her when she arrives that the job description is just a little different than they had said on the phone. They don't have a child; Sam will be there to look after Mr. Ulman's mother, an old woman who the Ulmans say will probably never come out of her room. They leave, and Sam pokes around the weird, dark house.

What she discovers and what happens to her are pretty terrifying. That's all I'm going to say. My only complaint is that the ending might be just a bit much. But that doesn't detract from the awesomeness of the film's build-up.

So, in closing, if you like good, creepy horror films that understand the meaning of suspense and the terror involved in what you don't see, this is the movie for you. If you prefer things like Hostel and the Last House on the Left remake, well, you don't deserve to watch movies.

Silent Light (2007)

Silent Light is a film about people who take their faith very seriously. Carlos Reygadas, the film's director, takes the characters' faith seriously as well, which is why it's such a good film. It's about the pull that sometimes happens between love and beliefs. It is extremely thoughtful and doesn't have any answers, only quiet, solemn contemplation of issues that a deeply religious person might encounter someday.

The movie, filmed in Mexico, is about a Mennonite man named Johan (Cornelio Wall) who is in love with a woman who is not his wife. He is having an affair with Marianne (Maria Pankratz) and has told his wife, Esther (Miriam Toews), about it. They are all very troubled by this reality, but Johan and Marianne seem to be slaves to true love. That is the story's conflict, and Reygadas makes it seem such an important issue; it becomes as important to the audience as it is to the characters.

That's really about all that happens, except for a dreamlike ending that I won't ruin for you. I have a feeling people will have very differing interpretations of the ending. I would highly recommend Silent Light to anyone who doesn't mind taking their time to get through a movie. It moves slowly and steadily and feels much more like a European drama (think Bergman) than an American one. If you prefer explosions and car chases, this one probably isn't for you.

Note: 2009 U.S. release.

Walk the Line (2005)

I am usually very reluctant to watch a biopic. They almost always get good reviews, but to me they all seem somewhat the same. They always end up going on too long, and (especially when they're about creative people) they tend to have the same plot points: childhood, early career, fame, drugs, rehabilitation, happy ending. They are usually well made and feature good actors, but I just can't seem to get into them. Notable exceptions are The Aviator, Confessions of a Dangerous Mind, and probably a couple others I can't think of right now. And, I am happy to say, Walk the Line is the newest addition to the list of biopics that did not bore me.

Let's start with the music. Any film featuring the music of Johnny Cash is automatically of interest to me. And the way the movie made me feel about the music is equally important. I felt I was rediscovering some of these songs.

And the performances are extraordinary; they are what really drive the film. Joaquin Phoenix sounds just like Johnny Cash (and I think director James Mangold knows that Phoenix looks like Cash from profile, because he uses an endless amount of these types of shots). Reese Witherspoon brings an unparalleled energy. She is such a great actress and she so rarely gets cast in anything worth doing. I'm very glad she is in this movie.

I think Mangold avoids the problems that a lot of biopics run into by keeping Walk the Line focused. There is no attempt made to include Cash's entire story, and the film is better for it. More manageable and more watchable. It focuses on Cash's issues with his father and his relationships with women. And it handles these issues very interestingly and lovingly.

There are a couple small problems (a sad note of music with a shot of Phoenix looking depressed after every problematic scene, for example) but they don't bother me that much. I would recommend this movie, but I think I'm the last person in the country to have seen it.

Spirited Away (2001)

As I watched Hayao Miyazaki's Spirited Away, I wondered if I should think about it differently because it's an animated film, in a different way, that is, than the way I usually consider movies. I think, to some degree, that is a valid line of reasoning; after all, many animated films are made for a different audience, the technical aspects are completely different, even the acting (voices, not faces) is in a whole different realm. In many ways, I am forced to think about it differently.

But then there are some rules that apply to any kind of storytelling, and in this way I found that Spirited Away does not always line up with what I like to see in a movie. Or a television show or a novel or a play, for that matter. But first let me discuss the animation.

This is the first Miyazaki film I have seen, so I'm sure I am not qualified to write about it. I will say, though, as so many critics and fans have said before, that the imagination involved in this animation is absolutely staggering. There is stuff in this movie that only small children could come up with and only experienced master artists could put on screen. From what I have read, Miyazaki does it all. This is beyond impressive.

If you are unfamiliar with Miyazaki, as I was, you might want to know that this is not like the Japanese animation you are used to. It's good. The detail involved in the art is beyond just about any animation I have ever seen. This movie is a joy to look at.

The story involves a ten-year-old girl named Chihiro whose family is moving to a new town. On the way to their new home, her parents stop the car at a mysterious tunnel and decide to explore. Once through the tunnel, the family discovers what the father believes to be an old theme park. The parents stumble upon a building full of fresh food and, despite the desperate pleadings of Chihiro, they sit down and devour the food, her father reassuring her, "Don't worry; I have credit cards."

This strikes me as an important point: Miyazaki is portraying the wisdom of a little girl juxtaposed with the foolishness and gluttony of her parents. We might assume it would be the other way around. Interesting.

Chihiro wanders off while her parents gorge themselves. She finds a tall building in the middle of the park which she later finds out is a bathhouse, a sort of vacation spot for spirits. She meets a boy named Haku who tells her to get out, that Yubaba, the spirit who runs the bathhouse, will try to rob her of her identity. When she returns to her parents, she finds that they have been turned into pigs. This is one of the most creative and disturbing scenes in the film.

Chihiro is informed that in order to keep her identity and remain at the bathhouse, she must get a job. She finds one in the boiler room, under the intimidating but lovable Kamaji. The rest of the film's story involves a number of run-ins and adventures surrounding the bathhouse. This is a confusing and disturbing world Chihiro has stumbled upon.

There are so many memorable characters in Spirited Away, mostly because of the bizarre ways in which they are drawn. Yubaba is an old woman with a wrinkly head as big as Chihiro's entire body. Kamaji is an eight-limbed man who can extend his arms a far as he wants. There is a "stink spirit" who is caked in mud and garbage. I cannot say enough good things about this animation. Not that I know much, but I don't think people are far off when they use the word "genius" in regards to it.

On a different level, though, the film is not as satisfying. Yes, the plot is imaginative and its message is filled with a pure and hopeful meaning. But it seems to me that the story serves the animation, and I think it should be the other way around. It feels like Miyazaki has so many great visual ideas that he manipulates the story and characters to allow for those ideas to take place. And they are wonderful ideas, make no mistake. But personally, I think I might prefer a focus on story first.

Remember when you were young and you played games with other kids and they would try to change the rules in the middle of a game in order to gain an advantage? Spirited Away feels a little like that. The very first thing I learned in my directing class is that you must set up rules for the world of your story and then follow those rules. It seems like Miyazaki's rules keep changing. There can be no real conflict or consequences if the audience knows that a new rule will inevitably be created to allow for a solution to every problem. The film's conclusion is the best example of this.

This probably is not a problem for children, and I think they are part of the film's intended audience. In that respect, I can't think of any animated movie that would be this entertaining or moving. Maybe WALL-E.

At any rate, you should certainly see Spirited Away. Form your own opinions. If you believe what film critics say, all of my negative thoughts about it are wrong. I am definitely glad to have seen it and plan to view it many more times. I'm sure I'll find new wonders upon additional viewings.

Note: 2002 U.S. release.

Red Cliff (2009)

Red Cliff, John Woo's new film, is epic as all hell. I had been pretty excited to see it for a while, and it finally came to Indianapolis this past week. Not that I'm that big of a John Woo fan, but the film got good reviews and the trailer made it look way awesome. Which it is.

Instead of describing the plot, I'll just tell you that it's an ancient Chinese war epic. That should be a sufficient amount of information. Like most of these types of films, it has an epic storyline (I'm using the word "epic" a lot) and huge, violent battle scenes. I have read a few reviews, and some critics think the action scenes hold the film together, while other are more pleased with the scenes of dialogue. I think they are both fantastic. The action scenes are probably a little more striking, though.

The fight choreography in Red Cliff is incredible, and the CGI looks like it's not even there. In fact, I wouldn't even know CGI was used if I didn't know that what these warriors are doing in the battle scenes is humanly impossible.

Complaints: the film goes on just a little long, especially the final battle scene. I feel like by the end, the movie has exhausted its visual ideas. This isn't necessarily a bad thing, because the first two hours are brilliant, but I think it might be more effective to have cut out some of the action at the end, especially since the plot developments are so good. I think it might get in the way a bit.

Red Cliff is awesome, though. See it immediately.

Mr. Smith Goes to Washington (1939)

We watched Mr. Smith Goes to Washington in my Politics and Film class. I had to write a response to the film, particularly to what it has to say about politics. I'm going to be lazy and just copy and paste that. Keep in mind that it's for school, so if something sounds like B.S., it probably is. Oh, and you probably need to have seen the movie to get anything out of this, since I don't really describe the plot. Here goes...

The 1939 Frank Capra picture Mr. Smith Goes to Washington could very well be described as a political film, but I sense there is something simpler at the heart of this beloved classic. The film is less about politics than it is about the triumph of the spirit of our nation, and, although the plot revolves heavily around the inner-workings of our system of government and could thus be called governmental, to call it political would be a mistake. In fact, I would go so far as to contend that Mr. Smith Goes to Washington is an anti-political movie.

The word "politics" has never been looked upon too warmly, and by making his hero Jefferson Smith (in the form of a young, awkward and lovable Jimmy Stewart) a decidedly non-political figure, Capra creates a story that celebrates the common man, naive and inexperienced though he may be, over the all too easily corrupted political systems he exhibits in the film. This is not to say the movie completely disparages politics; in truth it displays the complexities of our government in an understandable way and clearly glorifies truth and decency in the American political culture. Maybe Capra is telling us we need more average Joes involved in government. Ultimately, the film shows a great deal of faith in our republic and our people.

By showing us the ugly side of American politics, Capra is able to juxtapose a much more optimistic vision of what American government can be if honest people stand up against the seemingly insurmountable opression of political corruption. The more corrupt and intense political pressure heaped upon Jefferson Smith, the more glorious his triumph is in the film's closing scene, and this is why the film works so well in a dramatic sense. The conflict is so intense that audience members cannot help but care deeply about its outcome in the final scenes. Capra uses similar juxtaposition to create sympathy for his characters, when he invites comparisons between Senator Smith (who is untainted, innocent, hopeful, and patriotic) and virtually every other character in the film, from characters like Clarissa Saunders (Jean Arthur), who are simply jaded and too wise for their own good, to those who have been completely corrupted by the temptations of power, characters like Senator Joseph Paine (Claude Rains).

It is difficult to put Mr. Smith Goes to Washington in a real political context since it was made 70 years ago, but many of the governmental principles are the same today, and all of the lessons about humanity still ring true. One interesting item to note is that Capra never shows us which state or which party Smith belongs to, which is important in developing a decidedly "everyman" quality in the character. He could be any one of us.

The question has been posed as to whether Capra depicts a fragile American system or a strong one. I believe he is suggesting that there is a thin, delicate line between the two, and, if not for honest Americans such as Jefferson Smith, the bad guys could easily win every time. But that is why I think this film is so special. It doesn't necessarily believe the system always works; it believes in the strength and goodness of the American people - and ultimately suggests that we are the reason the system does work. If the system is to be strong, we must be strong first.

World's Greatest Dad (2009)

This is the time of year when I like to catch up on the movies I missed during the year. Most of these are out on DVD at this point, so my Netflix activity increases greatly in January and February. Anyway, World's Greatest Dad is one of those movies. It's directed by Bobcat Goldthwait and stars Robin Williams.

The film is a very dark comedy about a father, Lance (Williams), and his son, Kyle (Daryl Sabara). Lance is a poetry teacher at the high school Kyle attends. He is also a novelist, but he has never been published. All he wants, he says, is an audience. Kyle is an unintelligent, antagonistic, rude, unappreciative, foul-mouthed, sexist, homophobic, porn-addicted, compulsively-masturbating, overly-sweaty douchebag. Everyone at school hates him, with good reason. Lance loves Kyle, but (as he says himself) he doesn't much like him. This setup is extremely believable because of Sabara's mind-boggling performance. I haven't disliked a movie character this much since the Nazis in Schindler's List.

One night Lance comes home to find him strangled to death. I'll let you figure out how this happened. In order to spare his son some embarrassment, Lance forges a suicide note, making Kyle sound tender and misunderstood. The note gets into the hands of some of Kyle's schoolmates who think they are discovering something deep and profound about him. Seeing an opportunity to get an audience for his work, Lance writes Kyle's "journal," and has it published. It's a hit. Soon everyone at the school is extremely interested in Kyle's thoughts. Students and teachers alike praise him and talk of how his memoir has changed their lives.

Goldthwait's intentions are clear: he is making fun of our tendency to forget all the bad things about someone once he is dead. And to this end, he is effective. But what he has to say about Lance as a person, as the protagonist, is not as easy to discern. This is the film's biggest problem, I think, its confusion with what statement it wants to make. It ends a little too happily for the point about society to really sink in, and Lance's personal problems are barely considered.

The first third of World's Greatest Dad is wonderful. Robin Williams does a great job, especially in the first act of the film when he is reserved, shy, and insecure due to his failings. After Kyle dies, however, the movie loses energy. But when Sabara is onscreen, it is darkly hilarious (my type of movie). Kyle is such a jerk to his dad, and the way Lance responds is perfect, alternately giving in to Kyle's demands and telling him things like, "if you don't act right at dinner, I'll stab you in the face."

This movie is definitely worth watching, but there are many 2009 films that would be a better use of your time.

The Triplets of Belleville (2003)

This is a bizarre movie. I mean that in a good way. I usually don't like it when people describe a film as "weird," because that's usually a way of copping out of thinking critically about an interesting work or expressing resistance to originality. But The Triplets of Belleville is weird.

That's not all it is, though. It's not enough to say that. It is both childlike and grotesque. It's funny and disturbing. It's sort of a messed-up fairy tale, I guess. It's certainly unlike anything I've ever seen, and I think maybe it defies description.

This is an animated film, in case you didn't know. The setting is France, at least at the beginning. Halfway through, the action moves to a place called Belleville, which looks to me like a French estimation of an American city (everyone is fat and the mafia are in control). It centers around a grandmother raising her grandson. She buys him a bicycle when he is very young, and by the time of his young adulthood, he is competing in (and winning) the Tour de France. That is, until he, and two other cyclists, are kidnapped by gangsters and taken to Belleville. The grandmother and the family dog set out to find the grandson, and are aided in their search by the famous triplets of Belleville, who were singers back in what looks like the 1920's. So they're pretty old now.

What I've just written is the plot of this film told in a straightforward, realistic way. That is not, however, how Sylvain Chomet, the writer and director, tells the story. In fact, I would say The Triplets of Belleville is much less about plot than it is about imaginative animation. Chomet makes this approach work very well.

Here are just a few of the things that happen in this movie: the dog dreams about riding a train around the top of his food bowl. The grandmother vacuums the grandson's knees and thighs. Mafia bodyguards lock their shoulders together to create a blockish, formidable mass. Men wear t-shirts that read "I love fat." The triplets eat nothing but frogs, and hunt for them in the river using dynamite. A car tips backwards while driving up a hill and continues to flip down the hill like a Slinky.

Even as I am describing this, I know I am not doing it effectively enough. I know it's a cliche, but this really must be seen to be believed. I'm not sure I have ever seen animation so imaginative and creative and disturbing all at once, except maybe WALL-E or Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. But this is a different type of film entirely.

Oh, I forgot to mention that The Triplets of Belleville is completely free of dialogue. And it held my attention. Even silent films have titles in between shots. Just saying.

I think this is a movie everybody should see. I don't know that I'm completely jumping up and down about it, but if you are looking for something completely original (which you should be), this is it.

The Diving Bell and the Butterfly (2007)

The Diving Bell and the Butterfly is one of the best, most beautiful films I have ever seen in my life. I am hesitant to write too much about it for fear of obscuring its beauty by my meaningless descriptions and opinions. It is haunting and uplifting and real, and it makes me glad to be alive.

It's directed by Julian Schnabel and written by Ronald Harwood, based upon the book by Jean-Dominique Bauby, editor of Elle magazine, who is the film's main character. It takes us through the steps of the unsuspected affliction suffered by Bauby (called Jean-Do by his friends) after he suffers a paralyzing stroke. But I'm making it sound like Extraordinary Measures or a particularly touching episode of E.R. It's nothing like that at all.

Jean-Do cannot speak, so his speech therapist (Marie-Josee Croze) devises a way for him to communicate by blinking his eyelid. At first he finds this ridiculous. Once he grows accustomed to it, he dictates a book. Did I mention this is a true story? Astounding.

The way Schnabel films it is genius. Over half the movie is seen through the eyes of Jean-Do, and it looks real. We can see his eyelashes and eyelids and everything. When his vision is blurred, so is the camera. He cannot move his head, so the camera does not move, not even when other characters, forgetting he can't see them, step out of the shot. Much of the rest of the film is made up of imaginative sequences of fantasy and dreams, inside the mind of Jean-Do. You really just have to see it to know what I'm talking about.

And the acting is brilliant. Each performance is nuanced and delicate and real, especially Mathieu Almalric as Jean-Do. He is paralyzed for most of the film and, with the use of one eye, creates a character who is intelligent, funny, flawed, and scared. He shows us the spiritual reawakening of an imperfect man. And Max Von Sydow, as his father in two brief scenes, is soul-crushingly good. It amazes me how good that guy can be in any language.

What The Diving Bell and the Butterfly communicates to me is the great and oft-forgotten value of our thoughts. Thoughts are all Jean-Do has left after he is paralyzed. At the beginning of the film he considers this consciousness to be a curse, something that keeps him constantly aware of his inability to move or speak; he tells his speech therapist he wants to die. By the end of the film we see that his consciousness is his greatest blessing.

I have only scratched the surface of all the wonderful aspects of this movie, and I can't imagine I've done a very good job of describing it. Just do yourself a favor and see it immediately.

Taken (2009)

Just once I would like to see a fight scene in a spy thriller with shots that last more than a quarter of a second. Seriously, what happened to fight choreography? There used to be an art in scenes like this, now it seems filmmakers throw together a hodgepodge of footage of God-knows-what and speed it up to about a hundred times as fast as it was originally filmed so the audience can't tell what they're looking at. Audiences seem to spend a lot of money on these movies, though, so I guess nobody's complaining but me.

From the above paragraph, you'd probably assume I disliked Taken, but that's not the case at all. It's actually a quite entertaining action movie, like a Bourne film for family men. The complaint about the action sequences is one of the only huge problems I have with the film. While I wouldn't exactly call it art (and it's really not as good as the Bourne movies, either), I would have no reservation saying that it held my interest throughout and that you should see it. If you've run out of Scorsese, Hitchcock and Bergman titles, that is.

You know you have a good shot of a a film of this type being worthwhile when the filmmakers cast respectable actors in lead roles (unlike, say, Paul Walker), and you can't get much more respectable than Mr. Liam Neeson. His badass-ness is the best reason to watch Taken. He plays Bryan Mills, a former CIA agent whose seventeen-year-old daughter is taken (hence the clever title) while she is visiting France by a group of criminals (I won't tell you their nationality lest you begin to subconsciously stereotype) who specialize in sex trafficking.

Mills then goes on a quest to find his daughter. All logic is now cast aside, for the remainder of the film. If you can buy into this, I guarantee you'll be entertained, but that will have to be one hell of a suspension-of-disbelief.

The plot becomes completely implausible, his methods of finding these criminals completely preposterous. In his review of Taken, Roger Ebert writes, "if CIA agents in general were as skilled as Bryan Mills in particular, Osama bin Laden would have been an American prisoner since late September 2001." The point is, we know there is absolutely no way any man would be able to pull off all this impossible spy crap. But Neeson sells it so effectively that we cheer him on anyway. Mills is merciless and unrelenting in his search for his daughter, and it actually comes off as kind of touching as opposed to completely laughable.

One more thing I'd like to point out is that some of the film's subject matter is very real indeed. Global sex trafficking is a tragedy that occurs every day, and it is sad and sickening. I don't want to make any judgment calls on this movie, but I can only hope it serves as an eye-opener to this disturbing issue and not as a sensationalizer and exploiter of it.

Jesus Christ Superstar (1973)

My friend Wes has been trying to get me to see Jesus Christ Superstar for a really long time, so I finally got around to it. It's one of his favorite films and, while I can't make the same claim, I can definitely say I am glad to have seen it. I think it's a film everyone should experience.

I have never seen Jesus Christ Superstar on stage, so it might be difficult for me to distinguish between the work of Andrew Lloyd Webber and that of Norman Jewison, the film's director. I do know that I like the film's music. I don't love it, but I like it. Except for the mixing. Whoever mixed the music should have been fired.

It's a rock opera, which is pretty cool, and it was filmed on location in Israel, which is even cooler. The best parts of the film, for me, come in between the musical numbers. There are grand, majestic shots of the holy land, empty. These set up the appropriate mood for the story. It's exciting and bleak at the same time.

Biblically, the plot is not quite on the money, but it's more of an exploration of certain aspects of the biblical account, so I'm willing to let that slide. I'm pretty sure Jesus didn't sing the sermon on the mount, anyway. No harm done, for the most part,

As for the performances, I think Carl Anderson, as Judas, is far and away the best in the film, both in terms of vocalization and presence on screen. His songs are easily the most captivating and energetic. I am not crazy about Ted Nealey as Jesus, maybe because he looks like my dad's cousin Jamie circa 1989. I'm not in love with his voice, either, although a lot of people would disagree with me on that.

Other than that, it's kind of a bizarre film, which is probably the best reason I can give for you to see it. I am really, really, really not a fan of Andrew Lloyd Webber, so the fact that I could sit through this means it must be quite a filmmaking achievement.

By the way, there's no dialogue, only music...in case that matters to you.

Collateral (2004)

It might be a bold statement, but I think there's a fair chance Michael Mann is the best working director of pure action films. And I'm going to go ahead and make another assertion: Collateral is his best film. While you could certainly make a case for Heat and probably Ali and Last of the Mohicans, I'm going with Collateral as a personal favorite. Does that mean it's the best action movie in the past decade or so? Maybe not. But I'd say it's in the running.

Some critics complained about the film's ending being a little predictable and unwilling to branch out from the Hollywood norm, and I don't think that's an invalid argument. But I think it applies only to the plot. When I consider the characters that are involved in this plot and (especially) the creative, surprisingly low-key way Mann films it, it becomes something completely original. That's just what I think.

The thing that sets Collateral apart from run-of-the-mill action flicks, however, is the complexity of the characters. It's the characters, not the action or special effects, that drive the film's plot and message, and the characters are what keep us invested.

I would say this is Jamie Foxx's best performance (although I haven't yet seen Ray.) Here he plays Max, a Los Angeles cab driver who picks up Vincent (Tom Cruise in one of his best roles), a friendly, self-assured, suit-wearing guy who needs a personal driver for the night, to take him to five different destinations. He pays Max $600 for the job. When it becomes clear that Vincent is being sent to these destinations to kill people he doesn't know (I won't tell you exactly what happens - but it's pretty wild), Max wants out. But Vincent insists they remain a team. He has effective means of persuasion.

The continuing conversation, throughout the film, between Max and Vincent is both philosophically and psychologically revealing. On one side is a polite contract killer with views bordering on nihilism, on the other an honest workingman who is afraid of failure. Each man calls the other out on his flaws at one point or another. Meanwhile, Vincent is killing people from a list he was given, Max is trying to stay alive, and a sort of bastardized friendship is forming between the two.

The way Tom Cruise plays Vincent makes him look like a character from a video game; he moves stiffly and unnaturally, except when he has to move fast to kill or avoid being killed. He and Mann and screenwriter Stuart Beattie have created a phenomenal, dichotomous character. Vincent is clearly the "badguy," but he's not a bad guy. He just wants to do his job. He sees Max as a business associate and is more than willing to be kind to him as long as he cooperates. Problem is, he's also willing to kill him. It's business.

I have noticed a small, intriguing item. At the beginning of the film, Max picks up a lawyer named Annie (Jada Pinkett Smith in an absolutely astounding brief performance) and after he wins an argument about a cab route she asks him if he likes to be the best at his job. I get the feeling this is something he and Vincent have in common. Max wants to be a good driver. Vincent wants to be a good contract killer.

Collateral also features some fantastic action scenes (Mann has this way of making all his gunshots sound so realistic), gritty cinematography that makes the film seem a little more like art than most would expect, plenty of dry humor, and a terrific supporting performance by Mark Ruffalo. If you're looking for an action movie, you really couldn't do much better.

The Candidate (1972)

I am currently taking a class called "Politics and Film" which meets to watch and discuss a different political film each week. This week's selection (which we watched yesterday) was The Candidate, directed by Michael Ritchie and starring Robert Redford as Bill McKay, a liberal lawyer who is persuaded to run for the U.S. Senate against the Republican incumbent in a race he has almost no chance of winning. McKay is an honest man with ideals who speaks his mind, and this gains him a modest amount of support among voters. When his popularity increases and it becomes evident that he might actually have a shot in the election, his campaign manager (Peter Boyle) and staff begin to transform the campaign into an image-conscious, voter-pleasing endeavor. McKay's idealism is soon changed into salesmanship, a campaign built on speeches and television appearances. Soon McKay himself changes into a smooth-talking phony.

I don't think it's much of a stretch to say The Candidate is satirical genius. The point of the film, that politicians are elected based upon marketing and image and half-truths, is unquestionably clear, and it's done in a hilarious and pessimistic way. Ritchie and screenwriter Jeremy Larner take aim at media-manufactured candidates and at the constituents who are fooled by them. Every device used in the film is satirical.

Example: the first thing I noticed was the film's score. Patriotic-sounding flute music plays over the opening credits. It sounds like something from the Revolutionary War. You know the kind of movie music I'm talking about. My first thoughts were that of disappointment, since this is such a cliche, but as the film went on and I began to see its true spirit (that of mockery and satire) I realized that the filmmakers were making fun of the cliche. This sort of thing happens throughout The Candidate.

There are two scenes in the film that, for me, perfectly exemplify its cynical theme. The first is a debate between the two candidates. McKay's campaign team have advised him on how to answer the questions and have explicitly told him not to say what he might be thinking about any particular issue. He ends the scene by disobeying them and starting a brief argument with his opponent. But the way the scene is filmed is more interesting to me than what happens in it. Almost all the shots are of the television monitors; the action is nearly always seen through them, the eyes of the media. I think that says a lot about the campaign, and it happens at a crucial point in the film, when the audience is beginning to get the idea that McKay could be selling out. The second scene that struck me comes later in the film, during a huge campaign speech by McKay. He begins reciting a number of campaign cliches and it becomes clear that he has completely strayed from his original intentions. Inspirational movie music swells underneath his speech as he nears the end, and it's apparent the filmmakers are having some fun at the expense of both candidates and the film industry.

Hilarious and terrifying. You should see The Candidate as soon as possible.

Mean Creek (2004)

In the past couple months I have been attempting to make a list of the 100 best films of the decade, from 2000 to 2009. I realize the futility and insanity of such a list, but I like to make lists, and I have seen a lot of good movies in the past ten years, so I am going to try to rank my 100 favorites. It might be impossible.

Anyway, I have been going back and watching some films I liked but haven't seen in a while, to review my initial impressions of these films. Mean Creek is one such film. I saw it when it was released on DVD in 2004, and I remember liking it very much. So I watched it last night, to see if that impression remains. It does.

Mean Creek is a disturbing, meditative story about kids and the choices they make. Aspects of it will be all too familiar to any male who has ever been through the impossible experience of growing up around other kids. It was written and directed by Jacob Aaron Estes and stars Rory Culkin, younger brother to Macaulay and Kieran Culkin. From what I can tell from this film, Rory is better than both his brothers.

The film concerns a boy around the age of thirteen, Sam (Culkin), and a bully, George (Josh Peck), who beats him up at school. Sam's older brother Rocky (Trevor Morgan) finds out about it and they devise a plan to get back at George, to "hurt him without really hurting him." Rocky gets his friends to join in on the prank, which ends up taking the shape of a canoe trip, where the prank will take place.

I don't want to give away any more of the plot, but I do want to desribe the other characters, because they are all of a particular importance. One of Rocky's friends is Marty (Scott Meclowicz), an angry recent high school graduate whose father has committed suicide. Marty gets picked on by his older brother. Two other kids who come along on the boat trip are Clyde (Ryan Kelley), Rocky's more soft-spoken friend, and Millie (Carly Schroeder), a pretty girl in Sam's class. Millie and Sam obviously have a bit of a thing for each other.

I won't tell you specifically what happens on the canoe trip, but I will say that it takes a good look at the nature of and reasoning for George's bullying. We see his loneliness, and we also see the troubles of the other characters, and the wrong ways in which they deal with these problems.

Mean Creek is an eye-opening film about growing up male and the cowardice toward which every young man has a tendency. We see it in every character and the way they allow themselves to be manipulated in order to gain approval. George is lonely, so he acts out aggressively against Sam. Marty is angry and is mistreated and manipulated by his older brother. He in turn manipulates Clyde and, to some extent, Rocky. Rocky holds this same type of power over Sam.

The ending of the film shows these extremely real characters deciding whether to continue down this path of cowardice or to stand up to it. I think the film's conclusion holds one of the secrets to becoming a man.

I would highly recommend Mean Creek.

Matchstick Men (2003)

I went into Matchstick Men not knowing what to expect. I mean, I knew what it's about and everything, but I had gotten extremely mixed reactions from people. A friend of mine, whose opinion I hold in highest regard, does not like the movie at all. Roger Ebert, my favorite film critic, loves it. My girlfriend also likes the movie a great deal. And I have heard equally good and bad things about it from several other people. But I figured that was enough information for me to at least give it a chance. I am glad I did.

While I'm not exactly ready to call it the film of the decade or anything, I think Matchstick Men is a solid piece of entertainment. It did not blow me away, but I was certainly not bored by this comedy/drama/action flick/family movie. I think it works pretty well on three levels: as a Sting-like con story, a character study of a guy with a handful psychological issues, and a film about the reconnection of a father and daughter. Now, some of these aspects are compromised by the film's ending, and that doesn't sit entirely well with me, but I think maybe it adds to the entertainment factor. If you've seen the movie, you'll know what I'm talking about.

Matchstick Men was directed by Ridley Scott, and it's a nice change in pace for him. Not that it's quite Gladiator-caliber, but it's good to know that he can make a decent film that's a little different from what he's used to.

The performances, not the direction, however, are the best parts of the film. Nicolas Cage, as he stumbles through his character's many intense neuroses, is as good as I've ever seen him (no mean feat considering how awesome he is in Adaptation and The Weatherman), and you can always count on Sam Rockwell to deliver an energized performance. And Alison Lohman, as Cage's 14-year-old daughter, is absolutely phenomenal. As good as the performances are, though, I think the back-and-forth nature of the film makes it kind of difficult to really care about the characters.

The dialogue, especially in the first half of the film, is very clever. I think it would have been easy to overlook something that would seem like a small detail in this sort of movie (which is so often the case), so it's nice to see that special attention was paid to the dialogue by the screenwriters (Nicholas and Ted Griffin), the director, and the actors. The quality of it kind of wavers toward the middle of the film, though.

And then there's the twist. I think the problem with these kinds of films is that you almost expect there to be some kind of twist, so the only mystery is figuring out exactly what it will be. That's fairly easy to do with Matchstick Men, but that's not necessarily a criticism. It would be if the film completely relied on plot for its entertainment value, but fortunately the really good parts of the film (the comedy and the performances) go untainted. That's why it's worth seeing.