Young Adult (2011): Immature Take on Immaturity

Young Adult, starring Charlize Theron,  got a fair amount of critical buzz when it was released last December. It was a somewhat polarized reception, with some critics lauding the movie as an incisive little gem, while others dismissed it as, well, a piece of crap. I had heard some good things about it through the grapevine, but did not get around to seeing it at a theater – perhaps because of all of the end of year competition. I finally caught it last month on a long-distance flight.

Young Adult was written by Diablo Cody and directed by Jason Reitman, the same team that gave us Juno (2007). I liked Juno as a quirky, satirical comedy with cute, charming high school protagonists (Ellen Page and Michael Cera). That movie had a back story about a yuppie couple that comes apart because the husband (Jason Bateman) is stuck in adolescence and can't come to grips with adult responsibilities. In Young Adult, Theron plays a yuppie woman who has never gotten past her high school glory days and can't come to grips with adult responsibilities. Juno worked, because it focused on the kids and their coming of age story; Bateman's character was a mere sketch, and a creepy one at that. Young Adult doesn't work, because it focuses on the creepy character and doesn't really know what to do with her.

The protagonist is called Mavis Gary, a recently divorced (no explanation of how or why) mid-30s ghost writer of young adult romance novels, living in Minneapolis. She is beautiful, but other than that redeeming cinematic quality, we quickly learn that she is also narcissistic, self-destructively alcoholic, promiscuous, superficial, miserable and mean; in short, an unlikable creep (except, again, that she is beautiful, and thus watchable). Mavis longs for the good old days when she was on top of the world: the high school prom queen, paired with handsome football star Buddy Slade. When she learns that Slade (Patrick Wilson), now married and still living in the little backwater town they grew up in, is about to become a father, she obsesses on the wacky idea that she can be happy by going and winning him back. Thus begins her odyssey.

This set-up allows Cody and Reitman to cynically contrast the sleek, highly coiffed, sophisticated urbanite with the flannelled, earthbound small-town burghers, and at the same time to contrast the supposedly debased mores of those cityfolk against the bedrock, family-oriented values of real people (who apparently only survive in a rural Norman Rockwell America). For the first 20 or 30 minutes of this flick, when Mavis first arrives back in her hometown, that sort of works. After that, the writer and director have no idea what to do with the situation they have created. (Based on their respective post-Juno careers, it would appear that Cody and Reitman aren't too big in the idea department.)

Going in, we pretty much know that Mavis can't be permitted to succeed in her quest to seduce the new Papa away from his decent, warmhearted wife (Elizabeth Reaser) and new baby; this is not that kind of movie.  But apparently Cody and Reitman thought  it could be a hoot to watch ninety minutes about a creep’s failed attempt to break up a family.  Well, sorry guys, its not. (Actually, Young Adult would be closer to sixty minutes if the travelogue scenes,  the endless putting on of makeup scenes, and other filler were excised.) Maybe in the hands of someone with a clear vision, but not here.

As a satire, the movie hits a few targets; but never really decides where to aim. It gives us the Hollywood vision of middle America, alternatively mocking the blandness of small town life, with its chain stores and unsophisticated inhabitants; and  simultaneously extolling the warmth,  the neighborly barbecues, the focus on kids and families, and the morality of that life;  contrasted with the unreality and immorality of Mavis’ pathetic, emptiness and her deluded notion of what’s important. Eventually she gets her comeuppance and even seems to learn something. But then, Young Adult concludes with Matt’s nerdy sister giving Mavis a pep talk, telling her she’s absolutely right for rejecting this town full of breeders and losers , that she and the big city are better than all them. That makes Mavis happy, and the happy 80’s soundtrack comes up. This makes absolutely no sense, however.

Theron is a good actress and she does a nice job playing a screwed up, delusional wreck.  On the other hand, Patrick Wilson, by all accounts a pretty bright guy (and a Broadway stage actor of some note) plays Buddy blank faced, as a  dunderhead who doesn’t notice the obvious fact that Mavis is coming onto him.  We  do get a nice sympathetic performance from Patton Oswalt, as Matt, a decent guy – the B-list classmate of Mavis and Buddy, whose life was forever damaged as a result of a vicious assault while they were in school together. (Incongruously, Mavis has no recollection that Matt's locker was next to hers, but then remembers quite clearly that he was "the hate crime guy." ) 

But good acting can’t save this mess of a picture.

Fans of this movie call it a dark comedy.  One reviewer described how mesmerizing it was to watch a beautiful protagonist head into a personal trainwreck.  Lisa Schwartzman in E.W. thought it was cool to watch a movie in which the writer and director were flipping the finger at the moviegoer!  (Really?)  A O Scott of the NY Times wrote: “Shorter than a bad blind date and as sour as a vinegar Popsicle, Young Adult shrouds its brilliant, brave and breathtakingly cynical heart in the superficial blandness of commercial comedy.” That’s better than any line in the picture. And to this extent, I’d agree: if you enjoy a bad blind date or think you’d really like a vinegar popsicle, you might love Young Adult.

For everyone else,  give this one a miss.

Available on BluRay and DVD, including from Netflix; Also available on Xfinity On Demand and Amazon

We Bought a Zoo (2011): PG Matt Damon

Matt Damon may still be a hunk, but he is no longer a kid. I nearly always enjoy watching him. He came to our attention as a young striver in Good Will Hunting (1997) and a series of subsequent films emphasizing his boy next door good looks, his intelligence and his youth. This was followed by a number of films including the Bourne series and the Oceans 11, 12, 13 series emphasizing his manly toughness, intelligence and good looks. Now 41, it appears he is moving into cinematic middle-age.   

In a supporting role in Contagion (2011), Damon played a caring father, newly widowed, trying to protect his children in a challenging situation (worldwide pandemic). In We Bought a Zoo, he stars as a caring father, again recently widowed, struggling to help himself and his children move on. To the best of my knowledge, these are the first two roles, in Damon’s twenty year career, in which he has played a dad. He’s also rediscovering romance. Quick, can you name two Damon films in which he is paired with a love interest (after Minnie Driver in Good Will Hunting)? I can’t think of any, until last year’s The Adjustment Bureau.

We Bought a Zoo is based on the book of the same name by Benjamin  Mee. The book was a memoir about Mee’s experiences dealing with the death of his wife, struggling to raise his children as a widower, buying a decrepit, private zoo in Devon, England on the verge of foreclosure, and saving it and his family. The film transfers the action to Southern California and plays around a little bit with other facts, but can still say that it is based on a true story.

Now, I saw Zoo on a long-distance airplane flight (good sound, but small picture), so I am not going to get too deep here, but I can say that it is an engaging, entertaining and ultimately heartwarming picture. Damon makes a convincing dad. As for romance, his costar is Scarlett Johansson, as one of the zoo employees he inherits with his purchase; and although she definitely plays down the glamour and sex appeal, it is not hard to anticipate where Scarlett's relationship with her new boss will be heading.

This is a film you can watch with the kids (or grandkids) or just for light entertainment. Writer/director Cameron Crowe (Say Anything [1989], Jerry Maguire [1996], Almost Famous [2000]) tells the story in a straightforward way: no real surprises, no jarring notes. There's some light drama, a mild villain,  a troubled son, a cute -as-a-button daughter. Thomas Haden Church, Angus McFadyen, Elle Fanning, and Patrick Fugit contribute to the ensemble nature of the project. The  zoo animals, as well as the actors, are cute.

Available on Blu-ray and DVD, including from Netflix (not yet streaming); also available from Xfinity OnDemand and Amazon Instant Video.

The Hunger Games (2012): Entertaining (Troubling?)

One of the more anticipated movies of the season, The Hunger Games, based on Suzanne Collins’ bestselling “young adult” book of the same name, is a gripping, action-filled drama, with socio-political undertones. It features a very watchable Jennifer Lawrence (Winter’s Bone) in another “breakout” role (assuming it’s possible to describe two back-to-back performances this way) as a tough young woman in survivalist mode. Set in a dystopian future, it’s something like a cross between the reality show Survivor and the The 10thVictim (1965).

The 10th Victim was about a future TV show called The Hunt, in which volunteers were selected to participate in legalized assassination for fun and profit, and public entertainment. Any contestant who completed ten rounds, five as “hunter” and five as “victim”, retired with glory and a sack of money. The popular program was cynically promoted by the world government as an outlet for the masses’ violent tendencies, much like the Romans used the gladiatorial battles and public spectacles in the Colosseum. The movie featured Ursula Andress as a huntress seeking her 10^th victim, and Marcello Mastrianni as her prey. Unlike The Hunger Games, the multiple settings are urban and urbane, in  James Bond/Ocean’s Eleven style, and the picture is intended as a satire.

The Hunger Games is darker, more muscular, and more disturbing. It is also about made-for-TV government sponsored murder, although carnage is a better description. The “show” plays out in an artificial wilderness and pits 24 randomly selected teenagers, one boy and one girl from each of twelve districts, against one another.  The  sole survivor gains glory for self and district, the other 23 are dead.  This annual contest is the legacy of and punishment for a failed rebellion against the Capital by those districts 75 years ago. As further punishment, the  districts themselves are kept dirt poor by the  wealthy,  oppressive capital.

At least that is the case in District 12, where 16 year old Katniss Everdeen (Lawrence) lives in a shack in the woods with her twelve year old sister Primrose (Willow Shields) and a traumatized, barely functional mother. Things are so rough, Katniss, the effective head of her little family, has to (illegally) hunt squirrels and other critters for food. District 12 seems to be a coal mining area and the other residents have a depression era Appalachian look – drab, grey, gaunt. When the annual selection of contestants (the “Reaping”) takes place, Primrose’s name is called, and to save her, Katniss quickly volunteers to take her place. The baker’s son, Peeta (Josh Hutcherson), is the selected boy.  These two are wisked off to the Capital – which looks like a high tech, fascist version of Oz, and their horrible adventure begins.

Katniss is the center of this tale – a scared, yet resolute and capable, if reluctant, warrior.  We experience the “Games”  and learn to understand what is going on with her, through her.  Lawrence nails this role, and is as believable here as she was as Ree in Winter’s Bone two years ago. Indeed, the two characters are quite similar, albeit Katniss is far more vigorous, of necessity, in this film, and the story here is far more exciting. Credit director and screenwriter Gary Ross (Pleasantville, Seabiscuit, Big) working with Clint Eastwood’s cinematographer Tom Stern (Mystic River, Million Dollar Baby, J Edgar) , for creating such a visceral, compelling action-adventure.  

Yet, while I was gripping my armrest and rooting for Katniss to succeed, to survive, I was troubled. A world where the rulers force children to hunt each other down as blood sport on a “reality” television show is horrid, of course. Worse still is the idea that millions of people would find the  spectacle of teen killing teen entertaining.  And then I realized that I was one of them! I was participating in much the same thing by digging a movie depicting this (thankfully fictional) world, watching kids savaging other kids in a battle for survival. And I’m  not alone: this picture is doing boffo at the box office.  And why? There’s not really a moral to this story. It’s not Lord of the Flies. It’s just a  Hollywood entertainment, innit?.  Sure, there’s a bit about the fascistic ruling class holding down the hardworking common people, but let’s not fool ourselves into believing  that this is anything but a frame, a plot device to set up the terrible yet riveting  action scenes.

I must say, however, that the rendering of the decadent Capital with a kind of updated 1930’s fascist architecture was neatly done, while the style and behavior of the ruling class seemed like a clever melding of the court of Louis XVI just before the revolution and the world of Luc Besson’s Fifth Element (1998). The contrast between this place and its people with the ordinary people ‘back home’ was stark, interesting and just maybe, part of a broader point. Something about the 99%, perhaps?  And how our ruling oligarchy is crushing the middl …  No, can’t be!

While Lawrence clearly carries the movie, Hutcherson  (The Kids Are Alright) holds his own as strong, shy Peeta.  StanleyTucci is brilliant as the smarmy, effervescent MC of the Hunger Games show;  Woody Harrelson convincing as Hitch, a world-weary, crusty former  contest winner/survivor, now mentor to the District 12 teens; Elizabeth Banks bizarrely interesting as their escort; Lenny Kravitz reassuring as Cinna, their designer/friend; and Donald Sutherland coolly evil as Machiavellian President Snow.

The set design, costuming, action scenes, editing are all first class, too.

In current release.

Beginners (2010): Good Actors, OK film

Beginners is a well-intentioned motion picture with many charms and terrific actors. Billed as a comedy, Beginners aspires to tell an illuminating story about familial and romantic love, sacrifice, acceptance, and the meaning of happiness. It is entertaining enough, but ultimately, Beginners is a less than satisfying film, which fails to meet its lofty ambitions.

The story centers on a morose mid-30s guy named Oliver (EwanMcGregor), who, as he finds himself falling into a new love affair, looks back on his parents’ lives, their marriage, and particularly his experience of and relationship with his father Hal (Christopher Plummer), who died a few weeks earlier. Upon the death of Oliver's mother five years ago, Hal surprised Oliver with the announcement that he was gay. From then until his death, Hal was a changed person - outgoing, adventurous, free-spirited, and happy. A major theme of Beginners is Oliver's struggle to understand and to take inspiration from his father's late life blooming, as he tries to cope with his conflicted feelings about his new relationship (or situationship, as Rachel would call it).

On the plus side for this movie, all of the principal actors are pretty good. Plummer has been singled out for special recognition with an Oscar and other awards for his role as Oliver's joyful, newly liberated gay father. He was fine and a pleasure to watch, but I suspect much of the hoopla had more to do with a celebration of the 82 year old actor’s lifetime achievements than his work on this specific picture. As Hal, Plummer gives pretty much a one note performance, considering that his character discovers early on that he is living with a diagnosis of terminal cancer. We see his joie de vivre once he comes out, and his determination to live his new life to the fullest while he can. But a little more of a perceptible  nod to his impending mortality would have added more poignancy and depth to the role.

Melanie Laurent (Inglorious Basterds, The Concert) is more nuanced as Oliver's love interest, Anna, a cute French actress suffering from a dolorous melancholy and a reluctance to commitment not unlike his own.   Mary PageKeller makes the most of a cameo role in Oliver's reminiscence, as his amusingly quirky mother Georgia, who loyally, stoically protects her husband's secret over 44 years of marriage. Goran Visnjic invests Hal's much younger lover, Andy, with energy, humor and a soulful sincerity. McGregor, who I always like, is believable as an attractive, but depressive guy, although his Oliver seems over-sedated, sleepwalking through most of his scenes. I know that is part of the point for his character, but still, it's a bit much.

Also on the plus side are several fun or revealing scenes, such as an early one at a costume party where Oliver (dressed as a Sigmund Freud-ish psychoanalyst) meets Anna, dressed in a mannish outfit, who lies on his analyst’s couch and then flirtatiously communicates via notepad, claiming she has lost her voice. Another nice, touching, but brief, moment comes late in the film where Oliver acknowledges his appreciation for Andy, whom he has avoided for months since Hal’s death.

And, as with  The Artist (2011) there’s a great dog character, named Arthur (Cosmo - another Jack Russell terrier). Arthur communicates wittily with Oliver via subtitled thoughts. Sometimes Oliver  even seems to get these messages. There is also a lovely, nostalgic, albeit anachronistic soundtrack featuring Hoagie Carmichael, Jelly Roll Morton, and Josephine Baker tunes, along with some original music.

On the other hand, the movie feels random; it never comes together. The writer/director Mike Mills conceived this project as an autobiographical work. Its virtues and flaws flow from this circumstance. His explanation of the parallels with his own experience and his scriptwriting process  is illuminating.  Mills is a graphic designer,  and a music video director /producer as well as a feature film maker. McGregor’s character is a graphic designer working on an album cover for a music group called the Sads. He puts together a book of drawings called The History of Sadness; it helps us to see his character as a depressed person. Mills actually produced a book of drawings while working on this project, of which The History of Sadness comprises the first third.  About Plummer’s character he has said:

“It’s a portrait of my real dad, when he came out. He passed away around four to five years later, and I wrote it right after he died. We had some intense, hot conversations that blossomed in so many ways; they became more engaging and started challenging my love issues, and I wasn’t done with the conversation.”*  However,  while Mills paints a loving, admiring picture of his Dad in the character of Hal, such intense, hot conversations are not a part of the script.

In fact, throughout the course of the movie, conversations are  pretty sparse and not particularly interesting or revealing. There’s a lot of showing, but little telling. This lapse is particularly egregious with respect to the romance between Oliver and Anna.  We see them doing things, like roller skating, kissing, waking up together, staring into each other’s eyes -  but we get very little dialogue. One of the most irksome moments for me, in fact,  was a sequence in which we see Anna and Oliver talking about stuff, but we don’t hear what they are saying; instead, we are treated to soundtrack music.

As to the point of the picture: ”It’s a story of beginners. … Hal, wasn’t someone who was dying, but someone just starting to live. When my dad came out, it was like he was a completely different person. The movie also portrays a couple — they’ve gone through a bunch, but are really just starting their relationship.” And finally, “I got so many things out of this film that I wanted to and that were also slightly out of my reach. Everything is integrated in “Beginners” — my story, my drawings — and that’s why I’m so happy.”

 For me, however, that was why I was disappointed. Mills had a bunch of ideas, it seems, but couldn’t decide if he was making a light comedy, a bittersweet romance, or a memoir.  The movie is a hodgepodge of tones, themes  and sequences which are not well integrated, that don’t quite gel, and that feel incomplete – shallow, even. Mills has been hailed as a brilliant auteur, but in this instance, he might have done better with a little help - a cowriter, a different director, someone who could see the problems. Working solo, pulling his ideas together into a cohesive piece appears to have been slightly out of Mills' reach. 

I'm not saying Beginnings is a terrible motion picture; it has its moments. A lot of critics seemd to like it.  In my view, however, the  whole is less than the sum of its parts.

 Available on DVD, including Netflix, and streaming via  Comcast On Demand, Amazon Instant Video, etc.

*Quoted remarks are from an interview with writer Director Mike Mills in the New York Times 5/24/11: http://tmagazine.blogs.nytimes.com/2011/05/24/mike-mills-o-beginners/

Pina (2011): Dance, Dance, Otherwise We Are Lost

Wow!  If ever there was a movie that epitomized the trope about a picture being worth a thousand words, it is Pina (2011).   Pina, subtitled Dance, Dance, Otherwise We Are Lost, is one of the most emotionally, intellectually and visually stimulating pictures I’ve seen in quite a while. My companion and I left the theater so excited that we spent the better part of the next hour talking about it, resurrecting our favorite moments, describing the feelings it evoked. It was such a vivid  and visceral experience, I know that my words will not do it justice.

That said,  Pina is a documentary about the innovative modern dance choreographer Pina Bausch, who died in 2009, and her dance company, Tanztheater Wuppertal Pina Bausch. Mostly, it depicts a sampling of her works, restaged specifically for the cameras. Tanztheater can be translated as “theatrical dance,” and that’s a pretty good description of what we get to see. Some of the dancing is on a theater stage; some is out of doors. There’s a bit on a streetcar, one  in a tunnel,  several in empty buildings.  A famous piece is Café Müller, set in a large room with café tables and chairs, that must be brushed aside as the dancers, seemingly blind or in a trance,  move about. Onstage, the works are no less theatrical. For Rites of Spring, the floor is covered with peat moss; another setting features a huge boulder, rain, and pools of water.

The dancers are actors; the actors are dancers. The women are lean and feminine, often in flowing gowns or gossamer slips. The men are buff, chiseled, strong, yet sensitive. All seem totally committed to their performance. All are wonderful to watch.

Now, I am not a dance devotee, and never even heard of Pina Bausch before this. I haven’t been to the ballet in years, and my exposure to modern dance is even more limited.  I certainly can't analyze the technical aspects of the performances in this film. No matter. I can tell you that the dance in Pina is magnificent: dramatic, funny, raw, romantic, whimsical, deep, and above all else evocative … of love, longing, lust, isolation, belonging, pain, fear, vertigo, dreams, joy, death and life.  Watching these dances,  these dancers, I felt a connection to some of my deepest, most primitive personal and social emotions. How does this happen, when no words are spoken?  This is the art. As Pina would say, it’s about Truth.

The director, Wim Wenders, best known for 1987’s Wings of Desire, has, in recent years been associated with documentary films, including 1999’s Buena Vista Social Club. Here, he mixes things up nicely – something deeply moving, followed by something light; indoors, then outdoors; a longer piece, followed by a short bit; a piece for two dancers, then the entire company. We only see segments from some of Pina’s longer productions such as Rite of Spring and Café Müller, but these seem to be self contained “movements” that supply their own context.

Pina was filmed in 3-D, and the added dimensionality subtly enhances the immediacy of our experience, without calling attention to itself. At just 103 minutes, the picture is never boring; there are so many facets of human experience to explore. I left desiring more.

Tanztheater Wuppertal Pina Bausch continues to tour around the world. Sadly ( for me) they were just in the Bay Area in December. They’ll be in London for an extended stay in June and July, 2012 (are you listening, R?).  Hopefully, a return visit to the states next Fall.

In the meantime, by all means, see this movie.

In limited release and worth seeing on the big screen, if you can find it in your area.

The Concert [le Concert] (2009): Silly, Heartwarming Comedy

The Concert is a mish-mosh of a comedy, by turns amusing, schmaltzy, insightful, implausible, goofy and emotional. As the title implies, the picture culminates in a concert, and (trust me, this is not a spoiler) Tchaikovsky saves the day – gloriously, upliftingly, movingly.  Which might be why someone recommended The Concert to me, and ultimately, why you might want to put this one on your list. It is fluff, but it’s entertaining, with a nice payoff..

The movie is a French/Romanian co-production and most of the actors are Russian or French. The story opens in Moscow, at the offices of the (fictional) Bolshoi Symphony, where poor, soulful Andrey (Aleksey Guskov) works as a janitor. But it was not always thus. Thirty years ago, Andrey was the Maestro. But in the midst of a grand performance of Tchaikovski’s Violin Concerto,  he was abruptly fired, for employing Jewish musicians in violation of a  Brezhnev edict. In disgrace, his career tragically ended, he fell prey to alcoholism, depression  and thoughts of what might have been. Now, as he sweeps, he sees a fax coming in from Theater du Châtelet in Paris, inviting the Bolshoi to play there in two weeks (the L.A. Philharmonic having cancelled a show).  Andrey sees a chance at redemption: he’ll gather up the old crew and perform the Tchaikovsky in Paris, impersonating the Bolshoi!

Not a bad set up for a comedy. Gather up a bunch of former musicians (oddballs all), scam the stuffed shirt French muckety-mucks, overcome numerous logistical obstacles (money, visas, tuxedos, haircuts, lack of practice), and play beautiful music. There are shades of the Music Man here, or perhaps The Bad News Bears. This being Russia, the ragtag band includes gypsies, Jews, Slavs, and other stereotypes.  There are also former communists to ridicule and abuse; and some silly fractured French spoken by the vistors, which French viewers presumably find hilarious. The plot requires much suspension of disbelief. Somehow, though, The Concert carries us along despite the implausibility of the story, and some less than funny bits.

Helping the enterprise are some strong performances: Guskov is soulful and revealing as Andrey; Dimitri Nazarov, as Andrey’s best friend Sasha, is excitable yet wise and supportive; and Melanie Laurent, as the young French violin virtuoso Anne-Marie Jacquet, who is engaged as the soloist for the violin concerto, finds the perfect balance between an intrigued interest in Andrey and his project and growing disbelief at the apparent haplessness of the undertaking. By the end of the film, Laurent, who played the theater owner with a secret in Inglorious Basterds a few years ago,  finds the answers to some secrets here as well. She also pulls off a phenomenal feat in convincing us that she is, in fact, a virtuoso violinist.  

Despite the slapstick and some awkward comedic moments, and though we know it’s coming, The Concert comes through in the end with a theatrical and moving performance of the Tchaikovsky. You may want to have a tissue at hand.

Available on DVD, and from Netflix. DVD offers the original, in Russian and French with English subtitles, or a version dubbed in English, if you prefer not to read and can handle bad lip-synch and odd voices.

A Separation (2011): Best Movie of the Year?

Iranian writer/director  Asghar Farhadi’s A Separation  is one of the best films, if not the best, of 2011.  I totally loved it, and it moves to the top of my list of best films of the year. It’s been nominated for two Oscars (best foreign film  and best original screenplay), having already won a slew of other awards.  A Separation is a small, carefully observed, exquisitely rendered motion picture about – well, it’s about a lot of things. The title refers, most explicitly, to one of these: the apparently irreconcileable disagreement between Nader, a thirty-ish bank officer, and his wife, Simin; their resulting separation; and the effect of all this on their family, including most particularly their daughter, Termeh, who’s caught in the middle. The picture presents  one of the most honest portrayals of a family’s marital dissolution ever portrayed in a feature film.  As a matrimonial lawyer, I know a little something about this.

Another layer of irreconcileable separation lies between Nader and his father, caused by the latter’s physical decrepitude and galloping dementia. Despite Nader’s best efforts, there is no longer any possibility of real communication between the two.

There are other disconnects as well: His wife gone, Nader hires a caretaker, Razieh,  to take of his dad, while he is at work and Termeh is at school. Whereas Nader and Simin are educated, secular and solidly middle class (or perhaps upper middle class), Razieh is none of those things; her husband is an unemployed cobbler, she is devoutly religious, and she comes from a different cultural milieu entirely. Everyone speaks Farsi, but really, they do not speak the same language. Within a few days, Nader comes home early to find his father tied to his bed and Razieh absent.  When she returns, an argument ensues, during which Razieh’s reticence about the reason for her absence and Nader’s angry refusal to allow her the opportunity to explain, culminates in her being fired. Nader has to literally throw her out of his flat. A lawsuit, and eventual criminal charges, ensue.

Communication and its limits are a major theme of the movie. Without honest, open communication, there can be no connection and  no understanding, only misunderstanding. Misunderstanding breeds conflict, which impedes honesty and communication.  Pretty soon there are multiple levels of separation: within the nuclear family, and by extension within the extended family of relatives, friends, and acquaintances (even Termeh’s teacher gets drawn in); between the white collar and the blue-collar classes, between the secular and the devout and between people and their government (limited here to the judicial system – for political reasons). 

The film opens with Simin and Nader in domestic court, where each explains why his/her position is the most reasonable. Simin wants to leave the country, but Nader says he has to stay to care for his father. He is willing to let Simin divorce him but will not consent to her taking Termeh. They are at impasse.  Faryabi keeps the magistrate offscreen - the camera is where he would be - so the couple seem to be pleading directly to us. Later, there are several scenes at the courthouse, where we eavesdrop on the proceedings between Razieh and her husband on one hand versus Nader on the other.  Accusations fly wantonly; Razieh’s husband, a hothead, gets disturbingly yet credibly hotheaded; and the hearing officer, sweating, in shirtsleeves, tries to hold it together while seeking to winnow  out the truth.  But which truth, whose truth?

From the start and throughout this perceptive and moving picture, our sympathies for the characters constantly shift, because we are getting acquainted with basically good people, acting badly at times, but trying to do the best they can under trying circumstances. There are no heroes, no villains. None of the characters are perfect, all are wholly believable.  The actors dissolve into their roles in the most naturalistic way, so we forget they are actors.

The themes of separation and impaired communication are augmented by the creative cinematography. Conversations occur through half-closed doors, characters are viewed through panes of glass, or in enclosed vehicles. We get extreme close ups of faces struggling with awful dilemmas: what do I say? Do I tell the truth? The whole truth?  Then there is the haunting, heartbreaking final scene, back at the courthouse.  [spoiler alert]  Mom and Dad can’t agree on custody. They both sorely love their daughter. The magistrate has asked Termeh  if she has made a decision who she wants to live with. She has, but she doesn’t want to say so in their presence. It’s just too painful.  Nader and Simin are asked to leave the room. They go out into the hall. They do not speak. Simin sits on one side of a glass partition, Nader is on the other. They wait. Eventually, the credits roll.

Through the lives of these characters, through a relatively simple narrative,  with the aid of an honest screenplay and great acting, photography and direction, Faryabi demonstrates  a compassionate understanding of human behavior and the forces with which ordinary people sometimes must struggle, navigating between empathy and self-righteousness, principle and compromise, self-protection and honesty, anger and compassion, love and duty. He has given us a moving, thought provoking, intelligent masterpiece.

For us in the US, there is another dimension of A Separation to savor. After months and years of political conversation about the dangers of a nuclear Iran, and the extremism of the Islamic regime running that country, we tend to forget that this is a country of people. And these people, it turns out are remarkably like us, notwithstanding their government. Startling so, to my sensibility. They drive cars, they have jobs, they dress like us (notwithstanding the mandatory headscarves for the ladies and the occasional birqa), the furnishings in their flats and public buildings look pretty ‘Western.’ At several moments, we get glimpses of ‘the people’ of Iran as a community. When the caretaker, Razieh, almost faints on a bus, the reaction of the community is remarkably supportive, trying to help in an any way they can. Even the magistrate in the legal action between the families shows signs of compassion, constrained though he is by Shariah law. I do not know what I was expecting, but somehow this glimpse into urban Iranian life and of the Persian people was a fascinating and reassuring bonus.

Subsequent to this review, A Separation did indeed win the Oscar for best foreign language film.

In Farsi, with English subtitles. So easy to read, one quickly forgets they’re even there. 
In limited release at selected theaters, and worth a drive.
Available streaming from multiple services, including Amazon, iTunes, Vudu and others; also available on dvd from Netflix.

The Ides of March (2011): Won't Get My Vote

The Ides of March is ostensibly about the cynicism and corruption of American political campaigns, political operatives and politicians. Ryan Gosling stars as Stephen Meyers, the dedicated and idealistic communications director for liberal Democratic presidential candidate Governor Mike Morris (George Clooney), in the days leading up to the fateful Ohio Primary, as Meyers discovers that his candidate is less than perfect, and that the business of politics can be dirty. Oh really. Who knew?

The ides of March is directed by Clooney from a screenplay he co-wrote. It tells us nothing, yet takes itself very seriously. In this, it reminds me a lot of Margin Call (2011), which revealed – very soberly – that Wall Street traders in credit default swaps etc were self-centered, amoral, profit seekers.

The basic story is engaging and entertaining, if you don’t think about it too much. The acting is excellent from a weak script. Clooney hits just the right notes as a likeable, photogenic, ideally progressive politician in the Jed Bartlet mold. Gosling is very watchable. His character is naively earnest, until the stars fall from his eyes, after which he is relentlessly, bitterly cynical. We get Phillip Seymour Hoffman doing his smug, smartypants thing as Morris’ campaign manager (and Gosling’s boss), Paul Giammotti, in his sleazy-manipulator incarnation,  as the manager of the opposing candidate’s campaign, and Evan Rachel Wood is pretty believable as the young intern eager to sleep with the powerful. Marisa Tomei and Jeffrey Wright do their best with shallow, cartoonish roles.

Ultimately, though we are left with a message movie with a trite message, and a political story that makes little sense.  There’s a little hint of romance, some backstabbing melodrama, and a revenge motif, none of which is explored with much interest.  The pace of the film is also out of kilter with the events of the story. It’s a hard fought primary coming down to the wire. Things are starting to go wrong. Yet nobody seems frantic, there are no late-nighters, and Meyer has plenty of time for dinner and drinks in the evening, a roll in  the hay or two, and personal errands during the day.

Aaron Sorkin’s The West Wing did this sort of thing with a great deal more realism, much sharper dialogue, and more interesting characterizations.

Available On Demand from Xfinity/Comcast and streaming from Amazon Instant Video; or on DVD from Netflix and elsewhere.

The Iron Lady (2011): A Tin Movie

Meryl Streep’s performance as British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher in The Iron Lady has received near universal praise.  The movie itself has gotten decidedly mediocre reviews from critics and consumers. I have to agree on both counts. If you’re a Streep fan, you’ll want to see this. If you are looking for insight or information about Mrs. Thatcher’s career, politics, philosophy, personality or motivation you will be disappointed. If you seek an interesting take  on her impact on British society, economics or international standing you won’t find it here. If you’d be satisfied with a good, solid story about an interesting person, The Iron Lady isn’t that, either, although it has its moments.

Margaret Thatcher was Prime Minister of Great Britain from 1979 to 1990, the first woman to hold that post, and the longest serving PM of the 20^th century. She was a hard line conservative, very pro-business and lead the movement to dismantle  the UK’s ‘socialist’ policies, privatize government-owned industries, cut welfare spending, etc. She also presided over Britain’s victory in the short, and highly popular, Falklands War with Argentina. Most Americans, myself included, know little about her – other than the fact that she was sort of England’s Ronald Reagan, more strident perhaps, and not so warm and fuzzy.

In Britain, however, Thatcher was and remains a highly controversial and divisive figure, and  it seems nearly everyone has a strong opinion about her and “Thatcherism.”  As a result, The Iron Lady film has done boffo business there, with Tories critical of it’s portrayal of their sainted heroine, and liberals unhappy about the movie’s relatively uncritical approach to her politics. For us Yanks, however, the picture provides little context – historical, philosophical, political – for Thatcher’s reign or the period leading up to it.  It is so uninformative that it’s hard to get excited about the ‘drama’ of her political battles one way or the other.  

Meryl Streep’s role as Mrs. Thatcher takes two forms: the old lady and the iron lady. The story unfolds as a reminiscence of sorts by an elderly Thatcher many years after her fall from power. As the old lady, Streep gives a nuanced, touching portrayal of a once powerful woman, now widowed, drifting with her memories, not altogether  in the here and now, communing with the ghost of her beloved husband, Denis (JimBroadbent), and straining to maintain her dignity despite a faltering body and mind.  This incarnation of Thatcher is undoubtedly fictional, and, freed from the limits of biographical accuracy, Streep, director Phyllida Lloyd and writer Abi Morgan, do a lovely job imagining what it might be like to go from great power and responsibility to almost total powerlessness and dependency. The makeup department also deserves applause for, incredibly and believably, making Streep (62) look about eighty.

In real life, Mrs. Thatcher is reportedly well along the slippery slope of Alzheimers, and Tory critics of The Iron Lady have expressed outrage that the filmmakers would “stoop so low” as to depict her in this condition. The U.S. equivalent would be a film about Reagan showing him in his final, semi-sentient years; one can imagine the Republican uproar. However, I have to say that the depiction of the elder Thatcher does not seem at all mocking or predatory to me. On the contrary, it is quite sympathetic.

The retrospective meandering of old Mrs. Thatcher primarily covers two time periods:  The first is her early adulthood as young Margaret Roberts (Alexandra Roach), a politically engaged grocer’s daughter, who meets her future husband and then decides to run for public office to DO something to CHANGE things. Roach is fine in the role, as is Harry Lloyd as young Denis Thatcher. (Lloyd plays Viserys Targaryen in the hit series Game of thrones, but you would not recognize him as the same person here).

The second subject of reminiscence covers the period of the mature Thatcher’s ascendancy, from her decision to seek the Conservative Party’s leadership  in 1975 through her tumultuous years as PM beginning in 1979 and concluding with her ouster by fellow conservatives in 1990. Frankly, this portion of the movie bites off more than it can chew. The filmmakers try to show some of the highlights of Thatcher’s administration, but, as I noted at the outset, they give us no context for the dilemmas faced and decisions taken. This is a short film at 105 minutes, and only about half the running time is used to glimpse the iron lady in her prime, not enough by any measure.  The result is a hodgepodge of “events”, stagy little set pieces without a through-story and without any real drama. Oh, we see angry crowds, political demonstrations, and the like, but so what?  What’s going on?  We don’t know. Streep looks pretty good as the iron lady in her prime. But it is more an impersonation than a portrayal. If you’ve seen the trailer for this flick, you’ve seen most of this stuff already.

The failure is not Streep’s; it’s in the conception. This is film written by a woman, directed by a woman, about the most powerful British woman since Elizabeth I. I suspect that the point of the film is to show the fortitude and travails faced by this remarkable woman as she broke through gender walls into the male power bastion. In this it is modestly successful, mildly amusing, and not the least bit surprising. It is all well and good to want to want to make a point, and this particular point is certainly worth making, but in order for the moral of the story to resonate, the audience needs to be drawn into and caught up in that story, to care about the heroine. We do care about old, fading Lady Thatcher and are touched by her situation; but as to the tough as nails battle-ax prime minister, not so much.  In the immortal words of Governor Rick Perry, “Oops!”

In wide release.

The Descendants (2011): Clooney's Best?

The Descendants is not an avant-garde film; it is not an action–adventure movie or a thriller.  It does not break new cinematic ground, and does not seek to awe us with special effects wizardry or appeal to our prurient interest.  It is a straightforward story, well told, beautifully shot and extremely well acted, about an American family dealing with some very basic life issues: love, loss, connection, regret, kinship, grief, parenting, trust, and heritage. That’s a lot to pack into a story, and yet it’s a simple story really.

Matt King (George Clooney)’s wife Elizabeth is in a coma. Matt loves his wife, but there are unresolved issues, and regrets. In confronting her impending death, he and his two daughters, Scottie (10) (Amara Miller ) and Alexandra (17) (Shailene Woodley) need to support one another, but, as Matt has always been the “back-up parent”, they first must learn how to connect with and trust one another. This is a challenge, but not the only one. Matt and his extended family are descended from Hawaiian royalty and are the heirs, in trust, to thousands of acres of pristine land. As trustee, Matt is facing an imminent deadline for deciding how to dispose of this heritage land: sell it or preserve it somehow. All of this sounds boring in the summary, but in the hands of screenwriter and director Alexander Payne, The Descendants is anything but.

Payne’s films are character studies in the context of family relationships. We get to know the people in his stories gradually, through incidents - often humorous, sometimes not - and conversations. In films like About Schmidt (2002), Sideways (2004) and now, The Descendants, Payne shows us, and his protagonists, their deepest yearnings, needs and values, by peeling away the artifice and superficiality, bit by bit, like layers of an onion, and forcing these characters to confront their deeper selves. Payne believes in the goodness of people, and ultimately his characters learn, grow, and make wise choices, even if the process of getting there is painful.

Payne is also an actor’s director. He brings out the best in his players. About Schmidt may have been Jack Nicholson’s best performance of the last fifteen years, certainly his most sensitive; Sideways made Paul Giamotti a star, and was the defining career performance for both Thomas Haden Church and Virginia Madsen.  George Clooney has never given a more subtle, vulnerable and moving performance than his Matt King in this picture; it's arguably his best role in a career of great ones. Newcomers Miller and, particularly, Woodley as King’s daughters give similarly nuanced and touching performances. Also noteworthy here are character actor Robert Forster as Elizabeth’s grieving yet cantankerous father, Beau Bridges as a cousin pressing hard for the land sale, and JudyGreer, as a wife grieving over her husband’s infidelity and trying to forgive his paramour. Nick Krause as Alexandra’s young stoner boy friend also gives a memorable performance, at first humorously goofy, but with deeper layers as the story progresses.

The Descendants is also beautifully photographed. Hawaii is, of course, a pretty photogenic place, but cinematographer Phedon Papamichael eschews the usual visual tropes and presents the islands in a new light, not as a vacation paradise, but as a homeland, a real place.  The photography, and the mood of the film generally, is augmented by a lovely, evocative soundtrack of acoustic, exclusively Hawaiian music. You will want to download this!

For some reason, the picture has been rated “R” (“language” and “some sexual references”), but really, this is a family film – provided your family isn’t looking for explosions and CGI, and you are not concerned about the occasional f-bomb. (Clooney’s character repeatedly admonishes his youngsters to stop it.) I’d call it PG-14 or 15.

I was touched by this movie and its characters - even got a little moisty. It’s been mentioned, deservedly, as a candidate for best picture of the year, as well as multiple acting awards. I liked it and recommend it.   

In wide release.