SMACKDOWN-UPDATE: No surprise here. The Costume Designers Guild has awarded Sandy Powell for her impeccable period work in "The Young Victoria." Academy voters saw fit to ignore Emily Blunt's stellar performance but did the right […]
Nothing tickles this aging English major more than a good challenge, a film I can’t predict, a movie that leaves me with food for significant thought. These gems are rare indeed for reasons so obvious they needn’t be mentioned, but I’ll mention them anyway. Never underestimate the low esteem with which Hollywood regards the American film-going, ticket-buying audience. Teenage boys simply don’t flock to the latest dialogue-driven dramedy of ideas. But I do. “Cold Souls†is a beautifully made extended short story; its scale stays personal even when it goes international. “Synecdoche, New York†is an undertaking so massive that you need reference books to fully appreciate its depths. Neither film got a wide release, and I’ll bet you missed them both, but luckily for you, they’re both available on DVD. Grab your dictionary and come with me. I promise I’ll hold your hand.
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Over the fifteen months preceding the first world war, a series of increasingly strange events unfold in a tiny German town. (In this hamlet, something’s rotten in the state of Germany, not Denmark.) The denizens are not individual characters so much as monstrous archetypes; the landed baron a controlling overlord who gradually loses control, the doctor a cold, cruel, and sexually perverse father, the pastor sexually repressed and physically abusive to his many children, the schoolteacher ineffectual, romantic, and somewhat distracted. The children are beaten and tortured, molested and abandoned, mistreated and punished for every infraction. The women are muzzled, abused, and dispatched with not much fanfare. Even the crops suffer brutal beheadings, and the pets savagely killed. In revenge, they act out their dark fantasies, traveling in a creepy Children-of-the-Corn-style pack, walking in an ominously straight line, visiting mysterious cruelties on the different, the Other. All this ritualized punishment rains down on the entire town; initially, the town looks normal, but soon the bucolic vistas yield to a slow motion horror movie, all portent and unease.
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“Anvil! The Anvil Story” takes so many untelegraphed turns that it’s impossible to predict. The most unexpected thing is how inexplicably sweet the guys are, how truly touching their hopes and dreams, and how much we pull for them to make it on their terms. The filmmaker masterfully builds the narrative, adding salient biographical details and snippets of interviews captured on the fly, dropped like tantalizing breadcrumbs on our journey. I’m far from a metalhead; I’d never even heard of Anvil before seeing this documentary. Like another terrific metal band documentary, “Metallica: Some Kind of Monster,” this film doesn’t pander to fans. It goes deep and leaves us thinking about our own lives, our own relationships, and even – gulp – the meaning of life. Who’d a thunk it?
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“The Best Years Of Our Lives†stands tall as the ultimate and still unsurpassed drama about WWII’s returning soldiers, made in 1946 by William Wyler from a pitch-perfect script by Robert Sherwood. Director Lasse Hallström enters the love-and-war fray with his effort “Dear John†based on a novel by the very popular (if slightly gooey) Nicholas Sparks. The war in question is a lot more confusing than WWII, and the story is a whole lot soapier/dopier, but the eternal questions remain the same. What does war do to soldiers and their families and the women they love?
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Seems I’ve been relentlessly bashing Romantic Comedies since I started writing for Movie Smackdown. I’m only hard on them because I want them to be better, because I know they can be better. Just in case you don’t believe me when I tell you I love the genre, here is a little (partial) list of romantic comedies I will happily defend, presented in reverse chronological order. All of them are worlds better than the execrable holiday-themed callow crass cash cow currently raking in the moolah at the multiplex near you. Trust me, you’re better off renting and watching any one of these in the comfort of home than taking a chance on finding true movie love in “Valentine’s Day.”
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“Valentine’s Day.” From everything I’ve seen and heard, I’m fairly certain that Garry Marshall is a very nice man, and I know he set out with the best of intentions making this film as did all his friends and associates who helped. No one ever intends to make a bad movie, and smacking this film feels a little like hitting a puppy. This movie sits there humping your leg, blissfully unaware and unashamed of the giant stinking turd it’s left on the cineplex screen. To extend the metaphor past all usefulness, this puppy hasn’t yet been spayed. It takes major cojones (or perhaps hubris) to engage such a weak, ungifted and unsuited company of players in hopes of recapturing the success of “Love Actually.” With a few major exceptions, the actors just plain aren’t good enough to rise above the lame material; most are unable to land any of the marginal jokes or even to remind us of any human beings we’ve met.
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Autism. With the diagnosis on the rise, most of us find ourselves only a few degrees of separation from this little understood condition. Two of Hollywood’s most glamorous young newlyweds spent their first year of marriage exploring the subject in depth. Claire Danes stepped into the mighty big shoes of “Temple Grandin†in HBO’s effective biopic while her husband Hugh Dancy played Hollywood’s first big-screen romantic lead with Asperger’s syndrome in “Adam.†Both films rise well above a berth in the overcrowded “Disease Of The Week†pigeonhole, but let’s see which spouse lands the knockout punch and gets cinematic autism exactly right.
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With her historic win, the narrative going into the Academy Awards gets a little trickier and a lot more fun. As everyone knows who cares, “Avatar†director James Cameron and Ms. Bigelow were once married. It’s like the perfect set-up for a Nancy Meyer rom-com. The other likely Oscar nominees — Jason Reitman, Lee Daniels, and Quentin Tarantino — go into the race as also-rans and bridesmaids, unburdened with the compelling domestic drama — Divorcee Twelve Million Grossing David Potentially Clobbers Her Ex-Box Office Goliath. No one’s betting on a big upset. After all, only six DGA winners have failed to repeat their wins on Oscar night. Forty-seven of the films that won the DGA prize went on to win best picture at the Academy Awards, and so the “Inglorious Basterds†momentum that seemed to be building at the SAG awards screeched to a sudden halt. “Avatar” has splintered every box office record in its path, but Cameron’s Golden Globes acceptance speech wasn’t terribly humble or eloquent; Bigelow’s at the Broadcast Film Critics was. These early awards season speeches are dry runs, virtual auditions. The industry tunes in and decides which player they want to represent them on the Big Night. Reitman’s consistently adorable and convincingly humble; they’ll surely give him a screenplay award. Tarantino is something of a loose cannon; if he dressed a little better, he’d probably have more of a chance. Hollywood is a giant high school, and the directors are running for class president. (The movie stars vie for prom king and queen.)
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Featuring precious little Rome and a lot of Antic, “When In Rome†falls back on every exhausted (and exhausting) rom-com convention in the book. In Rome for her sister’s wedding, a career woman cynically steals coins from a fountain and unknowingly makes five strangers fall madly in love with her. Kristen Bell makes for an adorable lead who needs fresher and smarter material to reach her full rom-com heroine potential. Josh Duhamel stands tall as her love object, slightly less generic than the usual rom-com Ken doll. There’s not much standing in their way, no real obstacles, and therein lies the rub. The two meet semi-cute in the first ten minutes, and we know they’ll wind up together; nothing much happens in the middle to call their happy ending into question. There’s much ado about the nothing; pilfered coins, local legend, and enchanted suitors sound like more fun than they are.
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