Salmon Fishing In The Yemen (2011): One That Got Away

Salmon Fishing in the Yemen is a romantic fantasy with some attractive A-list stars. But even the beauty and talents of Ewan McGregor, Emily Blunt, and Kristin Scott Thomas can’t save this muddled film.  

Simon Beaufoy, the screenwriter, has done some pretty good stuff in the past, including The Full Monty (1997), Miss Pettigrew Lives For A Day (2008) and Slumdog Millionaire (2008), but this story is not only silly, but as misbegotten as the ludicrous idea that an extraordinarily rich, British educated Yemeni Sheikh (Amr Waked) could create an environment conducive to spawning salmon in the deserts of the Arabian peninsula, and that otherwise sensible, intelligent people would go along with it.  To be fair, pretty much every character in the movie declares that the salmon breeding/fishing idea is farfetched, but this is done in order to create a sort of childlike fantasy mood that anything can happen if, like Wendy in Peter Pan, you just believe. The trouble is, this is not a kids’ movie.

Setting this tale in the modern Middle East in general and Yemen in particular is problematical. The story derives from a comic novel of the same name, which was published in 2007, before the political unrest of the last couple of years (although there has been periodic unrest in Yemen for the last twenty years). On the other hand, the producers of the motion picture must have been aware of the recent Yemeni civil war, al Qaeda activity, etc.; and I actually found insulting the filmmakers’ assumption that I wouldn’t know or that I’d just suspend my disbelief no matter how dumb the premise.

Beaufoy’s script tries to anticipate this sort of criticism, much as he anticipated the absurdity of the whole fishing idea by having characters acknowledge that fact. So there’s a little bump in the plot about cartoonish Arabs trying to assassinate the prince, but such references to the fraught political situation are so clumsy and slight as to undermine rather than gird the reality depicted. By way of apology, he also has a character explain,  "We need a good story about the Middle East that doesn't have explosions." 

I guess it’s just supposed to be a “feel good” picture about a modern land of Arabian nights and dreams that might come true.  But for me, the net impression was pretty much the contrary - like eating too much candy: it’s nice at first to taste all the sugar, but then you tire of that and are left with sticky lips and fingers, an annoyed stomach, and a feeling of regret that you engaged in the activity at all. This feeling is abetted by a rather tepid, clunky, almost nineteenth century romance between McGregor, as a button down, somewhat nerdy character, and  Blunt, as a young professional woman, who does not appear to have any actual profession. Adding to the cotton candy, fairy tale quality of the story is the character of the Sheikh – a handsome, charming, “visionary” benevolent dictator who only wants what’s best for his people.  

On the plus side (!), the cinematography is lovely, and the actors do the best they can with the material at hand. Also, Ewan McGregor and Emily Blunt are quite nice to look at.  [Despite this clunker, Emily remains well ensconced on the girlfriend list.] Director Lasse Halstrom [Cider House Rules (1999), Chocolat (2000)] keeps the predictable plot moving along.

Still, there are better fluff movies around, and superior ways to spend your time.

Available on DVD and Blueray from Netflix, or for streaming at Amazon Instant Video.

Premium Rush (2012): Exuberant Thrills

Bike messengers, a growing occupational subculture in cities, from San Francisco to Manhattan to London, are a distinctive group: young, fiercely independent, disdainful of office work and ‘suits’, reckless in traffic, and casually cool. The new urban action thriller, Premium Rush, successfully harnesses all of these characteristics. The energy and exuberance of its attractive young cast are undeniable and engaging, the movie’s artful structure and visceral cinematography are invigorating, and the plot, involving a desperately indebted NYPD detective who wants to steal a valuable Chiu-Chau Brotherhood (Chinese underground bank network) chit, carried by an unwitting bike messenger, is a good enough frame to make it all work.

The hero of the piece is a young man called Wilee (as in Wiley Coyote), a guy who rides with abandon and lives that way, too. Summing himself up, Wilee says, “I like to ride. Fixed gear. No brakes. Can't stop. Don't want to, either.” Wilee is portrayed by the very watcheable Joseph Gordon-Leavitt, who resembles the young Keanu Reeves, circa Speed (1994). Gordon-Leavitt has been featured in a spate of recent pictures (Inception (2010), Dark Knight Rises (2012), the upcoming Looper (2012) and Lincoln (2012)), and his star is definitely on the rise. His compadres on wheels include newcomers Dania Ramirez as Wilee’s girlfriend and Wolé Parks as his rival. Watching these three fly through the urban landscape and streets of Gotham, somehow avoiding all sorts of horrific accidents with pedestrians, taxis, delivery trucks, and whatnot is, simply put, thrilling. Wilee’s adventures begin when he picks up a “premium rush”, i.e. an urgent and important delivery, uptown at Columbia Law School and has to get it to Chinatown post haste.

No movie of this type would be complete without a good villain, and MichaelShannon handles this assignment wonderfully. His Detective Bobby Monday is by turns sweaty, smarmy, malevolent, funny and violent. Monday has a gambling problem and an anger management problem. He needs $50K fast, and discovers that Wilee has it, in the form of the above-mentioned chit. All he has to do is chase down the little twirp, which turns out to be no easy task. Wilee also has another adversary, a bike cop (Christopher Place) who chases after him for a multitude of bike riding sins, and who provides effective comic relief.

This is a fun movie: exciting, entertaining, and even interesting - for giving the rest of us a little insight into a couple of communities we know little about: hard core urban bikers and Chinese underground “banking”. Like many action-oriented pictures, it’s probably best seen on the big screen (or a big screen TV).  Rated PG-13, Premium Rush seems to be aimed at a teen audience, but 45 years beyond that age bracket, I liked it just fine.

In current release.

Bernie (2012): Nice Guy, Killer

Bernie was kind of a hit little movie in the Bay Area in early Summer this year, and perhaps in L.A as well. Apparently not so much elsewhere, as its total box office just topped 9 million dollars, barely covering production costs. Now that it’s been released on DVD, my guess is that it will be discovered by a wider audience and do reasonably well. It’s not a great flick, but it certainly has its charms.

Bernie stars Jack Black as the title character, an ambitious (in a good way) undertaker in the small East Texas town of Carthage (population ~ 7000), a place where everyone knows everybody. Bernie comforts the widows, mentors students, helps his neighbors, sings at funerals, in church and community theater, and generally exemplifies good citizenship and good  old fashioned Christian charity and values. Everybody loves Bernie – even though his manner seems a little swishy and his sexual orientation is a subject of gossipy debate. He even wins over the wealthy sourpuss widow, Marjorie Nugent (Shirley MacLaine), whom most everyone else in town (including her family) considers a mean old bitch. But Bernie becomes her friend, then her companion, then her personal manager, and eventually, when her bitch spirit reasserts itself and becomes over-possessive and disrespectful of Bernie, he kills her. If you thought such a deed would defuse the townfolk’s high regard for this guy, you’d be mistaken.

Did I mention this is a true story?  Well, more or less, although its treatment of the events of Bernie Tiede’s story is comedic, rather than dramatic.

My little plot summary is not really a spoiler. Bernie is neither a thriller nor a whodunit. It’s a lighthearted, playful movie archly exploring the various characters in Carthage and their reactions to Bernie before and after his dark, desperate deed. Black does a terrific job playing against type as Bernie, a fellow who is pretty much the antithesis of the brash, vulgar cool-guy dude he usually portrays. MacLaine is excellent, as usual,  playing Mrs Nugent very believable  as a haughty southern rich lady. MatthewMcConaughey,born and bred in Texas, is convincing (and funny) as Danny Buck, the D.A. who – to the amazement of his constituency - actually wants to prosecute poor Bernie for his crime. 

The story, written and directed by the estimable Richard Linklater, unfolds in quasi documentary style, and its greatest pleasures derive from the interview-style commentary of the Carthaginians, most of whom are unknown actors – if they are actors at all.

Bernie will not change your life, but it just might provide a pleasant evening’s amusement. It is rated PG-13, and is suitable for the whole family (although probably of no interest for kids under 11 or 12).

Available on DVD and Blueray from NetFlix and streaming via Amazon Instant Video.

Lonely Are The Brave (1962): The Last Cowboy and the End of the West

It’s common to talk about the American character, but to define it is like trying to nail jelly to a wall. The problem is, we are a nation and a people of contradictions.

We've got our Horatio Alger myths about "self-made men" pulling themselves up by their bootstraps, "born on third base" success stories like those of George W. Bush - as well as more sincere invocations of self-made success like Herman Cain’s, and alternative but similar "hard work equals success" narratives such as Bill Clinton's rise from "a place called Hope". We worship wealth and success, but despise bankers and resent the superrich. Americans believe fervently in education, but  often disdain intelligent discourse. We worship, side by side, FDR and Ronald Reagan, and simultaneously expect the government to protect Social Security and Medicare, regulate industries that could harm public safety, and fix the broken economy; at the same time demanding lower taxes, less regulation, and a balanced budget. We are a nation of laws, but we despise lawmakers as much as lawbreakers. In fact, we have a history of mythologizing our more colorful lawbreakers: Billy the Kid, Jesse James, Bonnie and Clyde, etc.

De Toqueville was on to something, though, when, 175 years ago, he summed up  the American character as driven by individualism and self sufficiency. Back then, those who found settled life oppressive could and often did light off for the territories. As these regions were populated and civilized, however, Americans took a nostalgic look back at the heroes and villains of the "wild West" - the last refuge of the truly "rugged individual". Through much of the 20th century books and movies about "the West", and particularly its hero, the cowboy, an idealized exemplification of the American character, abounded. Westerns and cowboys  were a Hollywood staple: Hopalong Cassidy, Lash Larue,  Roy Rogers, John Wayne, Stagecoach, Shane, High Noon, Rio Bravo, etc. Most of the heroes of these pieces were outsiders, honorable loners on horseback, well meaning but good with a gun, knights errant of the range, exemplifying the American ideals of liberty, self-reliance, and quiet confidence.

Out of this tradition comes Jack Burns (Kirk Douglas), the anachronistic protagonist of Lonely Are the Brave (Douglas’ favorite film, and one of his very best). We meet Jack Burns in the opening scene, alone,  in boots, denim and bandana, recumbent, somewhere out there on the Southwestern range, with cowboy hat over his eyes,  just waking up, his horse, Whiskey”, tethered and grazing nearby.  It’s a lovely iconic scene. A growing rumbly sound intrudes on the scene, and as Jack slowly gazes skyward, we see what he sees: a trio of jets streaking across the western sky, with white vapor trails behind, upending our expectations. We understand that this is no ordinary Western.

Its 1953. Burns has heard that his best buddy Paul has been jailed (for helping illegal Mexican immigrants) and he’s coming back to see what he can do about it. Coming home again is certainly more of a hassle  than it used to be. For one thing, the land is partitioned now; but Burns, anticipating that, simply cuts through the barbed wire fence stretching for miles across his path. ( I imagine him quietly singing Don’t Fence Me In, while doing this.) Crossing a busy highway  buzzing with whizzing cars and trucks is a thornier matter,  especially with a skittish horse, but he manages it. After dropping in on Paul’s wife (a young Gena Rowlands, in her first featured film role), Burns figures he’s gotta bust Paul outta jail. First he has to get himself arrested (in order to get to Paul); then they’ll break out and resume their libertarian life, roving from place to place, doing whatever they want to do. Neither jail nor society can constrain truly free men, he argues. But Paul (Michael Kane), once a kindred spirit, has changed; he’s got a wife and a kid now; they are the center of his life, providing structure and meaning to his existence. He’s going to man up, do his time, and get back to them as soon as possible.  

Burns is a tolerant man. Each of us has to make their own choices in life, and he respects Paul’s choice, even if he doesn’t really understand it. Where Paul sees meaningful responsibility, Burns sees a restraint on freedom. He busts himself out of jail, precipitating a manhunt/chase that takes up the last half of the picture.  All Burns needs to do is get over the mountain ridge into the forestland beyond, and he’ll be home-free into Mexico. Sheriff Johnson (Walter Matthau, playing against type as a drawling southern lawman)  understands this and is going to do whatever it takes to stop him. This being modern times, the contest is between a man and his horse versus a law enforcement posse equipped with Jeeps, a helicopter, two-way radios, etc.  In truth, it’s a struggle between unfettered liberty and the constraints of a civilized society.

In the end, the law doesn’t get him but the modern world does.

Lonely Are The Brave was written by the great Dalton Trumbo (Roman Holiday, Spartacus) from a book by Edward Abbey (himself an iconoclastic, libertarian and environmentalist) entitled The Brave Cowboy (An Old Tale In A New Time).  It was produced by Douglas himself, who wanted to and succeeded in making a thought provoking film.  On one level, it’s a tribute to the Western movies of the twenties, thirties, forties and fifties, and the cowboy literature that preceded them, encompassing many of the familiar Western conventions: the cowboy’s close relationship with his horse, the barroom brawl (this film’s got a great one – with Douglas fighting a one armed man), the jailbreak, the sheriff’s posse chasing a good man, two men of honor in love with the same woman, and so on. On another level, it is a eulogy on  the death of the West and the Cowboy.   At the same time, Lonely are The Brave is a lament and commentary about the environmental ruination of the Southwest, reflecting Abbeys lifelong concern. Phillip Lathrop’s excellent black and white cinematography holds all of these themes together. It is undoubtedly the most notable film that director David Miller ever made.

I’ve always liked Kirk Douglas (Lust for Life, Spartacus), but he’s never been better than in this movie. In most of his roles, Douglas is wound up very tightly, playing intense characters with pent up energy or emotion ready to burst forth like a coiled spring;  but as  Jack Burns, he’s playing against  that type. Burns is relaxed, comfortable within himself, open, philosophical. He smiles a lot. And he looks great in this picture: lean, fit, even youthful in his gait and posture – though he was in his mid forties in 1962. His performance in the film’s emotional  final scene is just fabulous: he says not a word but conveys so much humanity with just his eyes, it will move you.

The other actors are good too, especially Rowlands, Matthau, and George Kennedy as a mean prison guard/deputy sheriff. But this is Douglas’ movie (although Whisky, his horse, is pretty memorable as well).

This unforgettable but rarely seen classic gets my highest recommendation.

Available streaming on Amazon, Google Play, iTunes and many other streaming services; and maybe on DVD from Netflix

Robot and Frank (2012): Loving Larcenous Langela

Frank Langella is simply amazing. Two newcomers, first time feature director Jake Schreier and screenwriter Christopher Ford, have hit the big time with this thoroughly entertaining little flick, but they couldn’t have done it without Frank. I haven’t seen a lot of his movies – perhaps because most of Langella’s career has been as a stage actor – but he was transcendent as Richard Nixon in Frost/Nixon (2008), not least because he was so damned convincing playing a very public guy to whom he bore little physical resemblance. He is completely different, but every bit as good in this comic film, playing an older man with a strong ego, whose mind is starting to slip away from him.

If Langella’s mind were actually slipping (which, appearances in this film notwithstanding, it isn’t), it would be convenient that his character shares his given name; and it’s certainly convenient for me here. Frank is a guy who wants to live life his own way.  But his former vitality is ebbing, and modern life and technology are passing him by, not that he’d admit it. When his hotshot lawyer son, Hunter (James Marsden), tries to convince him to move into an assisted living community, he angrily refuses. This being the future, albeit a not too distant one, Hunter buys Frank a new robot to serve as valet, housekeeper, cook and companion. “Give it a try,” he pleads.

There is, of course, an amusing period of adjustment, which is cleverly wrought. Robot (voiced by Peter Sarsgaard) is small, cute, and low tech in appearance (of necessity, given the picture’s shoestring budget), although quite capable of adroitly handling its assignment. Conveniently for Frank, Robot’s highly advanced programming does not include a morality module, and when Frank recognizes this, he starts scheming about a return to his former trade, burglary, with an accomplice who will leave no prints.  Soon, what started as an arrangement turns into a relationship, and the movie takes an odd and comedic twist into a buddy film, of sorts. I needn’t spoil the story by further plot description, but can say that funny stuff ensues. Much of this is predictable stuff, but it is well played.

Which brings me back to Langella. For much of this picture he’s conversing one-on-one with Robot. Most likely, someone off screen is simply reading Robot’s lines. The actual ‘robot’ has no facial expression and little body language to respond to. It’s all Frank. And he makes it work - brilliantly, naturalistically, believably – in a warm, nuanced and deadpan comic performance, that allows any disbelief to be easily suspended. Although not a particularly likeable man, Langella’s Frank stirs our empathy, and provides a little window into what it might be like to experience the onset of Alzheimers – all the while sustaining what is essentially a comedy.

Frank’s interactions with son Hunter, his daughter Madison (Liv Tyler), his eventual nemesis (Jeremy Strong), and the town librarian, Jennifer (Susan Sarandon) are fine. Sarandon, in particular, is quite good, as usual, although her character’s role in the story lies somewhere between superfluous and ridiculous. Strong lives up to his name playing a wonderfully smug and weaselly rich guy. I fear Tyler may never figure out the acting thing, but her stiff discomfort before the camera is thankfully brief. But ‘frankly’, it’s all about Robot and Frank. 

Ford, the writer of this tale, tries to throw in some intellectual meat and social comment about aging, etc, but this is pretty light stuff. There’s also a bit of a twist at the end, which makes little sense, but fails to mar the overall project. What Ford does pretty well is set up funny situations and provide comfortable, witty dialogue. Langella does the rest.

In sum, this is a pretty good, pretty funny movie. See it for Frank.

 In current release

Beasts of the Southern Wild (2012): Wild and Wonderful

It ain’t easy growing up in the bayou, ‘specially if Mama is long gone (but not forgotten), Daddy leaves you alone for long stretches, there’s no money, no guvment, and the levee’s about to break. Oh, and global warming. And did I mention monstrous Aurochs on the loose?

That’s pretty much the situation for a little six year old girl called Hushpuppy, living in a wild, gypsy-ish community called the Bathtub, on the wrong side of the levee in the Southern Louisiana delta, at the outer fringe of so-called civilization. Hushpuppy is an intrepid kid, though, a survivor, booned with a vivid imagination, filling in for her limited knowledge and understanding of the big, grown-up world.  As played by newcomer (what else could she be at that age) Quvenzhané Wallis – great name, by the way - Hushpuppy is also a mesmerizingly real character in this unusual indie movie. She’s in pretty much every scene, and that is a very good thing. A pint-size kid with an amazing shock of bushy, unruly hair and wide-set eyes, alternately inquiring and knowing, she takes everything in, searching for meaning and for connection. There’s a bit of Ole Huck Finn in her. As Hushpuppy might tell you, she da man!

The other thing really striking about this film is its ability to take us into this place, the Bathtub, and as we become comfortable with its humid, ad hoc, libertarian style, into the life and worldview of its residents, a motley crew if ever there was one, as they come together to help and protect Hushpuppy and pull together through extreme adversity.  They live in shacks, thrown together from whatever scraps they can find, amidst an exhilaratingly random  jumble of stuff; and are sustained by a cornucopian abundance of crawfish, shrimp, fish and you-name-it,  the fruits of the bayou and nearby lake – not to mention considerable amounts of beer and booze, provenance unknown.  Despite what appears to be a near absence of  money and what we would consider normal creature comforts, the world of these Bathtub  folk comes across as rich and convivial.

The most vividly depicted of these folks is Hushpuppy’s Daddy, Wink (Dwight Henry), a moody and troubled man, trying to protect Hushpuppy and trying to save himself, two goals in seeming conflict. He is alternately violently exasperated with his little daughter and warmly tender. We eventually learn why this is so, but I won’t spoil the story. Let’s just say they have quite an interesting relationship. Dwight Henry’s performance is down and dirty and thoroughly convincing (as are all of them).

Hushpuppy believes that everything in the world is interconnected, from the polar ice caps to the sweaty Bathtub, from the prehistoric to the modern, and that what she does in her life can have profound and far-reaching effects.   As it turns out, when some of these connections are sundered, Hushpuppy’s world threatens to come apart at the seams, and this child’s philosophy is put to the test.

Beasts of the Southern Wild is beautifully shot, sometimes achingly so, and it is a sensory joy to watch. If you can see it on the big screen, you should.  The product of a first time director and production company, working with non-professional actors on a shoestring budget, this marvelous, human  movie   is a remarkable achievement.  It is funny, profound and quirky. Ultimately, it is about (among other things) civilization and community, innocence and its absence, family, death  and life. You will not quickly forget it.

Currently in theaters

The Roaring Twenties (1939): A Classic Classic (and Cagney’s Best?)

James Cagney started out in Vaudeville as a song and dance man. Through his thirty year career in movies he played all kinds of roles, from George M. Cohan in Yankee Doodle Dandy (1942) to Lon Chaney in  Man of a Thousand Faces (1957). He’s been a boxer, a soldier, a taxi driver, a Coca Cola executive, and a spymaster; but he is most remembered as a tough guy gangster. That image was distilled in a score of pictures, including his breakout role as Tom Powers in The Public Enemy (1931) in which he famously shoves a half grapefruit into the face of Mae Clark, and his memorable portrayal of the psychopath Cody Jarrett in the amazing White Heat (1949), going out in a blaze of gangster glory (“Top of the World, Ma!”). Yet his best, most nuanced picture, might just be director Raoul Walsh’s The Roaring Twenties (1939).

The Roaring Twenties, like most of the other gangster pictures of the 1930’s, is about bootleggers, speakeasies, and organized crime. The picture follows three World War I vets - George (Humphrey Bogart), Lloyd (Jeffrey Lynn) and  Eddie Bartlett (Cagney) -   who meet in a shell crater in the midst of battle, and become buddies of sorts. After the war, prohibition sets in, and bathtub gin and organized crime follow in short order.

Cagney's character returns from the war to find that his job as an auto mechanic has been filled by a civilian, and nobody else is hiring either. He makes the acquaintance of a tough gal saloon keeper named Panama Smith, who helps him get started in the underground liquor business, and pretty soon Eddie Bartlett is doing pretty well for himself.  His war buddy Lloyd, an honest guy,  has gone to law school, and (holding his nose)  goes to work for Eddie. By contrast, George (Bogart) has no regard for the law; in fact, he has little regard for anyone or anything besides himself. When Eddie accepts him as a business partner,  we’re pretty sure  bad things will follow. Eddie is basically a decent guy, caught up in the circumstances of the times.  He's not so straight or idealistic as Lloyd, nor as mean and self-centered as George.  Eddie sees himself as a realist, and he  likes being a big shot. But he’s also a dreamer, aspiring to be a good guy. These qualities make him a great protagonist.

Cagney is brilliant as Eddie Bartlett, smart, brash,  funny, clever, tough, quick-witted, and, when circumstances warrant, wistful, loyal, thoughtful, and sympathetic. He is mercurial, sure, but never mean-spirited. Whether he’s wooing or fighting, he’s believable, and sincere. He just gives a great, nuanced, charismatic performance. Bogart had played the role of the dark, amoral, ultimately spineless bad guy for most of the thirties, and is quite good at it.  His breakout roles in High Sierra and The Maltese Falcon (1941) are still a couple years away. Priscilla Lane, a star for a few years but now largely forgotten,  is fine as the sweet, pure girl for whom Cagney carries a torch; and Gladys George is terrific as Panama Smith, who carries a torch for Cagney.

Raoul Walsh had been directing films for nearly twenty-five years at this point (and would go on for another twenty-five years) and he knew how to keep the story and the action moving along. The screenplay is intelligent, sensitive, and  loaded with great lines.  Like when George says ( after laying a trap for a rival): “I always say, when you got a job to do, get somebody else to do it.” It was based on an original story by Mark Hellinger (himself a fascinating character), with the feel of a newsreel, complete with a terse, melodramatic voiceover setting the scene.  The movie was made ten years after the devastation of “Black Tuesday”,  and six years after the end of prohibition, at a time when those bootlegging  speakeasy days seemed long gone, and it’s structured as a kind of retrospective of that bygone era. This rich film winds up being the story about a time as well as about a character.

 The cinematography by the estimable Ernie Haller (Dark Victory, Gone With the Wind, Mildred Pearce, Rebel Without A Cause) couldn’t be better ; it includes a great, iconic final scene,  not to be missed.

When the proverbial lights came on, I didn’t want this movie to be over. I felt enriched, exhilarated.  I wanted to devour the extras on the dvd immediately (rare for me). But then, the Roaring Twenties is a rare treat.

Available on DVD, including from Netflix, or streaming from Amazon Instant Video or Xfinity OnDemand