Showing posts with label love. Show all posts
Showing posts with label love. Show all posts

Sunday, October 7, 2012

The Perks of Being a Wallflower - Stephen Chobsky (2012)



There's never been a shortage of coming of age films.  It's a genre all to itself.

But "The Perks of Being a Wallflower" sets itself apart, not just because it's one of the best ever made, but because of its sincerity.

 
 
Charlie is a freshman in high school who doesn't have a friend to his name until he meets Patrick and Sam, a pair of outsider seniors.

Charlie inevitably develops feelings for Sam, but it's more than a high school crush.  Their relationship develops slowly and it's treated delicately, with the respect it deserves.  The two of them open up to each other over the course of the film with trust and in good faith.

Charlie, Patrick and Sam are all damaged goods, and that's why they fit together so well.  Traditionally, in films like this, the focus is on how much kids like this need to be accepted.  What makes "The Perks of Being a Wallflower" so special is these characters aren't just ready to receive love, they're capable of giving it as well.

 
The film works so well because while it focuses on teen angst, it demonstrates, without any cynicism, how it's not just a source of pain, but a force that drives these kids.

Mostly, it shows how the people who love you can make you brave.  Admittedly, that sounds cheesy as hell, but when you're watching this film, it feels like a lovely sentiment.

But I think what I love most about "The Perks of Being a Wallflower" is the way it truly understands broken people.  If someone is sad, they genuinely don't have the capacity to feel better.  And "Perks" accepts people like that on their face without trying to change them.

Saturday, August 18, 2012

"2 Days in New York" - Julie Delpy (2012)




 Julie Delpy channels Woody Allen with "2 Days in New York and she does it quite well.
She also draws from filmmakers like Eric Rohmer.

But it would be misleading to say "2 Days in New York" is derivative.

The film is her follow up to her 2007 film, "2 Days in Paris."

The film follows Marion, played by Delpy and her boyfriend, Mingus, played by Chris Rock.


 
Rock gives an admirably understated performance as Mingus, who serves as Marion's confidant before becoming her lover.


Marion falls for Mingus shortly after her marriage disintegrates and, unlike her romance in "2 Days in Paris," we can actually see the attraction here.

Mingus is supportive and loving without the condescension we've seen from Marion's past lovers.


The story involves Marion's eccentric family who comes to visit from Paris and how they interact with Mingus, a decided pragmatist.
"2 Days in New York" is a character-driven comedy and the people we're asked to spend 90 minutes with are interesting and funny.

The film works on every level and although it's slight, is has more insight into relationships than most romantic comedies and it's easily one of the best films of the year.

Sunday, August 12, 2012

"Take This Waltz" Sarah Polley (2012)


Sarah Polley's "Take This Waltz" might be the most delicate film I've ever seen about the breakdown of a marriage.
  It's been 5 years since Polley's underrated "Away From Her" and this latest film cements her status as one of the most important directors working today.

The film is elegantly written and executed with a remarkable subtlety. 
 
This all sounds like high praise and it is.

The only problem is I'm pretty sure I hated this movie.

The film follows Margot, played by Michelle Williams, a happily married woman who suffers from an infatuation with her new neighbor, Daniel.

Daniel is one of those guys who thinks he's seductive but really just comes off as creepy.

Seth Rogen gives a surprisingly muted performance as Margot's clueless and then heartbroken husband, Lou.

The relationship between Margot and Lou is much more interesting than her crush on Daniel.

The couple has a touching playfulness about them, but it's hiding a lot of insecurity, pain and vulnerability.

As always, Williams gives a truly gorgeous and penetrating performance.

She more than deserves her third Oscar nod in a row.
 

And Sarah Silverman plays Geraldine, Margot's sister-in-law and the film's voice of reason.
For most of the film, I wasn't sure Geraldine's character was necessary, but at the end, she ties up the point of the film nicely.

Ultimately, "Take This Waltz" is about the pitfalls of discontent.

Polley is a remarkably understated talent and I can't wait to see her next film.

However, I don't ever want to see "Take This Waltz" again.

Thursday, August 9, 2012

"Ruby Sparks" - Jonathan Dayton & Valerie Faris (2012)


The dissolution of the reality barrier has been explored before in films like "Stranger than Fiction" and Woody Allen's "Purple Rose of Cairo."


But never has the line between art and life been explored so thoroughly as it is in "Ruby Sparks."


Calvin is a writer suffering from writer's block until he finds himself romantically drawn to one of his characters.

When he finally returns to his typewriter, he does so with such fervor he brings his ideal woman to life.

Calvin acknowledges his love for Ruby even before she manifests herself.

Aside from being Calvin's dream girl, she's also sweet and vulnerable in her own right.

He has written her exactly to his liking, having her say things like "The first time I saw you, I said, 'Look at that boy.  I'm going to love him forever and ever.'"

Of course nothing good ever lasts and trouble starts when Ruby starts showing she has a will of her own.
 
Calvin can keep writing to change her for convenience's sake, but no matter how often he tweaks Ruby, she never fits his idea of perfect because how good can the product of a neurotic mind be?

At one point in the third act, we're horrified at the controlling monster Calvin has become.

The point of the film is that no abstract ideal can ever be a match for a real, autonomous human being.

Make no mistake, "Ruby Sparks" is not a romantic comedy.
 
It is, however, insightful, endearing, forgiving and easily one of the best films of 2012.

And as a side note, "Ruby Sparks" gets points for having the couple attend a screening of Peter Jackson's zombie film "Dead Alive" and including Plastic Bertrand's "C'est Plane Pour Moi" on the soundtrack.

Friday, October 21, 2011

"Womb" - Benedek Fliegauf (2011)

"Womb" is brilliant and revolting.

I still don't know if I liked it or not.

But hey, anything with the 11th Doctor (or Eva Green, for that matter) is worth a look.

I believe I will wait a few months and watch it again.

Here's my review.

Also, I may have mispronounced Benedek Fliegauf's name.

If I did, apologies.





Tuesday, March 22, 2011

My Dog Tulip – Paul and Sandra Fierlinger (2010)




"My Dog Tulip" Photo Courtesy: New Yorker Films

“My Dog Tulip” is a milestone in animation. It is the first paperless, hand-drawn animated feature ever.


Of course that wouldn’t count for much if the movie wasn’t very good, but I’ll get to the analysis of the film’s content itself shortly.

Paul Fierlinger drew the film onto a digital tablet, using a stylus and Sandra Fierlinger filled in the images perfectly. She seems to know just the right colors to capture the right moods and just how much detail to use without giving too much away. They used a program called “TVPaint.”





Photo Courtesy: New Yorker Films


“Tulip” is based on J. R. Ackerley’s memoirs of how he finally found true friendship late in his life when he got his first dog, Tulip. Ackerley is voiced by Christopher Plummer.



I have not read the book in more than 10 years, but I remember laughing out loud a lot and as I watched the film, I kept remembering bits of the book I’d forgotten.


The film, like the book, is pretentious, funny and literate. So naturally, your Resident Film Snob loved it to pieces.

Ackerley whittles the most complex human emotions and experiences down into the basest of animal urges and what he comes out with in his book, is a remarkably wise record, not only of anecdotes, but proverbs.

For example, in the midst of his meditations on Tulip’s bathroom habits, Ackerley takes her through a cemetery. He seems to think the dead should be grateful that his dog is blessing them by using their resting place as a place to unleash her bowels.

After all, they ought to be grateful to be serving any purpose at all, shouldn’t they?




Tulip diddles on the dead. Photo Courtesy: New Yorker Films

The film’s style could not possibly fit the spirit of the book better. Paul and Sandra Fierlinger don’t draw “Tulip” with the realistic detail the Pixar generation has come to expect. After all, if it’s going to look so gall-darn realistic, why bother animating it? (That’s right, I said “gall-darn.” You’ll just have to pardon my French.)


Animation style dips several times into what the author sketched as he imagined his dog and sister home alone together. These sequences are simple doodles on paper.


Notice how, for some reason, as minimalist as his “style” is, he still takes the time to draw boobs on his sister. It’s either endearing or creepy. I guess it can be both. Hey, the guy wrote “The Prisoners of War,” so I’m not going to get all bent out of shape.





Photo Courtesy: New Yorker Films


And what he projects of human sexuality onto dogs is hysterical and emphasized through this simple doodling that he does, more than it ever could through more sophisticated animated effects.

This is important, since roughly half the movie involves Ackerley trying to get his beloved dog laid.



Photo Courtesy: New Yorker Films


Again, he goes about exploring sexuality by simplifying it through the eyes of his dog and again, the stripped down animated style is perfect here. It’s equally adorable and disconcerting how Tulip is drawn in a dress, like a lady of the night.




Photo Courtesy: New Yorker Films

It’s touching how he marvels at the way Tulip allows a very small dog to hump her even though Ackerley clearly thinks Tulip is far out of the mutt’s league.



Please don’t make the mistake of trying to watch this with your kids. “My Dog Tulip” is a wonderful cartoon for adults.


This film will be showing here in Kansas City at the Tivoli for at least another few days, so you really need to catch it while you can.

If you miss it, put it in your Netflix queue pronto.

My Dog Tulip – Paul and Sandra Fierlinger (2010)


Midwest Association of Professional Animators: My Dog Tulip – Paul and Sandra Fierlinger (2010): "'My Dog Tulip' Photo Courtesy: New Yorker Films “My Dog Tulip” is a milestone in animation. It is the first paperless, hand-drawn animate..."

Thursday, December 23, 2010

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

It's Kind of a Funny Story - Anna Boden & Ryan Fleck (2010)



Here’s the the movie review where I finally come out as a mentally ill American.

Yep, I'm on four different eveners and I'm still just as loony as can be.

And that’s why “It’s Kind of a Funny Story” just meant the world to me.

I have no idea if all the “norms” out there will find it just as wonderful as I did, but this film simply got it perfectly.And that was no easy task. If it had strayed just a hair to one side, it would have ventured into the side of melodrama.

Had it gone of the path in the other direction, the characters would have been characters and “It’s Kind of a Funny Story” would have been just another wacky comedy about a bunch of loonies.

But this porridge is just right.

And here’s why. Anna Boden & Ryan Fleck understand, like very few filmmakers I’ve come across before, that people who are completely effed up beyond belief can have as great a capacity for strength, empathy and compassion as anyone else.

In fact, their dysfunctions usually make them better people for others to lean on.
That was Boden and Fleck’s theme in “Half-Nelson” and “Sugar,” two dramas that explored this notion darkly, and it’s what they’re trying to tell us here. Only this time, these filmmakers are showing us they can be warm as well as dark.

I’m not going to waste a whole lot of time going through the plot. You’ve seen the trailers by now.

For that matter, a lot of you have probably seen the film.

So, I’ll do just a quick rundown, because that’s how you do things in a proper review.

Craig is 16 and suicidal. He bypasses the bridge he was thinking of jumping from and instead goes to the hospital to get help.

He is admitted and put into the adult psychiatric ward because the teen ward is under renovations.He befriends Bobby, a guy who is hesitant to open up and tell Craig what his problems are, and is instantly attracted to Noël, another teen stuck in the adult wing.

And the rest of the movie is how they all relate and heal, and if I talked about the plot more, it would just sound mundane and it’s anything but so I’ll stop.
The plot really isn’t the point.

The film’s greatest strength is the way it refuses to condescend to its characters, even the ones on the peripheral who are the most troubled.

In the hands of someone else, these characters would have been thrown under the bus in the name of comedy. I shudder to think what Christopher Guest would have made out of this script.

The patients are used for laughs here, but never cheap laughs.

One of my favorite moments in this film is very muted and understated.

It doesn’t have a huge punch line or great catchphrase, so naturally it isn’t featured in any of the trailers and if you’re not mentally ill or have never been suicidal, it probably won’t stand out to you when you see “It’s Kind of a Funny Story.”



It happens when Craig is talking to Noël, she asks him about how he wants to kill himself, but didn’t actually end up trying.
He manages to stammer out a couple of sentences and explains himself terribly. Then he looks up at her and says, “Does that make any sense?”
And she says, “Yeah.”

That tiny moment, that short back and forth captures how those of us who are fundamentally just broken human beings understand each other so well and need each other so desperately.

Noël is a fascinating character precisely because we’re not told much about her.

We don’t know why she’s there will all the people who “need help.”



She has scars on her face and wrist and casually mentions cutting herself at one point, but apart from the fact that she loves music and seems to be exceptionally kind, she’s a mystery.

And Emma Roberts plays Noël flawlessly.

The rest of the film follows suit, with the greatest moments being the smallest ones.
Sure the funny moments you saw in the previews are entertaining, but the greatness of the film is revealed slowly in the quiet friendships that develop between these broken people.

And that’s another thing Boden and Fleck understand.

People who don’t suffer from mental illness mean well and they can help.

But this film is just achingly beautiful because it illustrates that those of us who are broken are drawn to each other.And that’s because we understand and we need the sympathy that can only come from someone who feels that illogical crazy things we do.
That’s the essence of our healing. Knowing we’re not alone.

Saying something that shouldn’t make sense to anybody at all and having someone who is just as lost as you are look at you and say, “I understand.”

And the ending of “It’s Kind of a Funny Story” is perfect.

Craig rides away on his bike. And forget about one day at a time. Boden & Fleck know that there are a lot of us that have to take it one breath at a time.

Craig takes those deep breaths, the kind we have to take to stave off panic attacks and the movie ends.



And watching this movie, all us crazies, all of us broken people understood that other people know how this feels.

And would you look at that, some of them are making movies.

I have not cried in 26 years, but if I were emotionally capable of tears, I would have wept right there in my seat.




If you have issues, go see this movie.



If you love someone with issues, go see this movie.

It’s wonderful.


And here’s my video review.




Sunday, October 24, 2010

Never Let Me Go - Mark Romanek (2010)

When life hands you a delightful surprise, sometimes you just say, "Thank you," and move on.



Like Franz Kafka's "Metamorphosis," Katsuo Ishiguro's "Never Let Me Go" might be an un-filmable novel, but hell if Romanek's adaptation isn't ambitious.

I'll just say it flat out. I adored this movie.

And my hopes were not high.

I worship this novel and I have to say, "One Hour Photo" was just an awful film.

I mean just terrible. It was a caricature of a psychological thriller.

I really thought Romanek was just a moron. Seriously.And "Never Let Me Go" is easily one of the greatest novels of the past decade.

So I braced myself for disappointment.

But oh my God, what a wonderful film.

It is so elegant.

I know that sounds pretentious, but I can't think of a better word.

Now if we could just get David Cronenberg to go ahead make his version of "The Metamorphosis," the universe will be whole.

Here's my video review.

Friday, July 2, 2010

A Book Perfect for Harron, Campion or Pierce

I know, this is a film blog, but it's my film blog and I'm going to do what I want with it and I adore Joyce Carol Oates and it's rare that a piece of art moves me the way that this book did, so here it is.

Besides, I think in the right hands this would make a wonderful film. I've often wondered why there haven't been more adaptations of Oates' work.

Incidentally, there's a Facebook group dedicated to lobbying to get Joyce Carol Oates a much deserved Nobel Prize in Literature. Pop over. The more members the better.

"The Tattooed Girl" by Joyce Carol Oates is quite simply a horrifying, heartbreaking, devastating, hey let's go to the thesaurus and pick out a few more apt adjectives, story.


It actually recalls the underhanded sadism that was in
"Where Are You Going, Where Have You Been," which just so happened to be my introduction to Oates.


This story will in turns surprise, repulse and touch you.


Early in the book, we are introduced to a character, Dmitri the waiter, who doesn’t seem like a bad guy in the first few paragraphs, and then, as Oates methodically peels back his layers, we are shocked to find that he is a simple sociopath.


His brutality is truly sickening and through his character, Oates manages to do the impossible.


As I was reading one passage, I felt ashamed of myself.


Not because I had done anything even close to that, but because I was a man.


Or rather because I was human.


The characters in this book are more than dysfunctional; they are simply broken.


It’s odd but strangely touching how two people, so damaged they could hardly pass for functional, develop this kind of affection, friendship, love and then complete dependency.


This book is filled with surprises and I’m not talking about show-offy twists in the vein of Shyamalan or Palahniuk. (Although for the record, I do think Palahniuk is the exception to the rule as far as dramatic surprises go. He is one of the few that can pull it off and make it feel organic.)


Oates amazes us with how quickly the hatred of her characters can turn to love and vice-versa.


She offers insight into why some people love monsters unconditionally.


Another surprise is the tender romance that blossoms between Joshua Siegl and Sondra Blumenthal, who is pretty much the only functional character in this story.


What sets Oates apart is that most writers feel a need to define their characters whereas Oates realizes that this is not always possible since most people don’t know who they are themselves.


This is an incredible, devastating novel and seriously, whether you’ve read Oates or not, whether you’ve liked her before or not, give this one a shot because not only does Oates understand the craft of writing better than most writers, she understand what it means to be human more than most people.


That sounds cliche and pretentious at the same time, but it's true.


And, (I used to be in the habit of tagging out blogs this way. I'm not sure why I stopped. It's a good note to leave things on.) in case y

ou care, I'm listening to a beautiful new 180g re-issue of:



Thursday, April 1, 2010

Lorna’s Silence – Dardenne Brothers (2008)

The latest film from the Dardenne Brothers is an understated study of alienation that reminded me a lot of Remains of the Day and Casablanca. (Not to give this film delusions of grandeur.)





"Lorna's Silence" starts with our heroine, Lorna, who is a profoundly unhappy woman. We don't know what her situation is, but she exudes
miser in every frame she appears in.


Lorna has married a Belgian junkie for a green-card and the plan, as it's slowly revealed through the course of the film, involves killing the junkie with an
overdose and side-stepping the whole mess of a divorce.


The plot is incidental, though. In fact, we’re not ever fully sure what the story is. We know the plot involves a green-card and a Russian who for some reason needs to establish residency in Belgium.

He's a very ominous figure. We only hear to him referred to as "The Russian."


The focus of the film is the isolation of Lorna.

Slowly, she finds herself attached to Claudy, her junkie fake-husband and gets to work on a plan to save his life. Of course, she can not tell him why she is doing all of this.

She doesn’t want Claudy to know his life is in danger and she stays silent.
Lorna is so stoic that it’s near impossible to tell just how deep her feelings for Claudy go or how they’re progressing until finally, one night, her actions leave no room for misunderstanding.

This is the first spark of happiness or even humanity we have seen in Lorna. This junkie has actually brought her to life.

There is an unspeakably beautiful moment that you’ll miss if you blink. It has no significance and only last a second or two, but it’s so tremendously effective.

Lorna and Claudy, her recovering, junkie, fake-husband, have just left a locksmith/pawnshop.


She is off to work and he is going to ride his bike all day to keep his mind off his withdrawal.


They split up and he starts to ride away.

Lorna, who’s been pretty cold to Claudy so far and showed no emotion at all, until the previous night, and is now falling for him, spontaneously turns and chases after him for a few yards.

It is a desperately joyous little moment as she runs after him for two seconds before turning to walk her own way.



It last three or four seconds, but it says so much about the transformation of her feelings toward this man she just met and had thought of, only days before as expendable.

And the way that The Dardenne Brothers cut from this burst of unexpected joy to the aftermath of heartbreak reminds me of what sets these filmmakers apart from others and why I loved Rosetta so much.

(I’ll be re-watching that very soon, I think.)





Of course, people who build up walls around themselves do so for defensive purposes and once those come down, Lorna is incredibly vulnerable.


Her strength was in the fact that nobody knew her.

The film ends ambiguously, but if you ask yourself, ‘What’s likely to be the next thing to happen to Lorna?’ you probably won’t come up with a happy answer.


Isolation, that front that makes people think you don't need anybody else, might make you look strong, but it's a lie.

In reality, it just makes you lonely and weak.

That is what the Dardenne Brothers are saying here and the message comes across beautifully and breaks your heart.