Archive for October, 2001
94 – Pollock
Jackson Pollock (Ed Harris) is a starving, alcoholic expressionist artist in New York City during World War II. The movie is told in flashback, as Pollock’s story has been illustrated by a Life magazine article (complete with pictures) covering his career to that point. When the movie begins, the artist is living with his brother in a tiny apartment and occasionally exhibiting a piece or two at local galleries. Then fellow artist Lee Krasner (Marcia Gay Harden) discovers his work and puts her own career aside in order to help further his. The couple falls in love and moves to the Hamptons so that Jackson may concentrate more on his work than on his drinking.
This works for a while, but as with so many geniuses, Pollock’s life is never rosey. Even when Peggy Guggenheim (Amy Madigan) champions him, he still turns to booze. And folks, when Jackson Pollock gets drunk (at least according to the movie), he gets mean. Violent. Enraged. And even sober, he seems a little off-center, like he was smacked with a two-by-four once when still in his formative years.
As with many biopics, there are cliches. But most people’s lives have cliches – it’s only when we see the cliches in a movie that we even consider them to be cliches. Jackson rises, he falls, he fights with the people who are trying to help him, and so on. This doesn’t make any of his life seem less real, however, mostly because of a stellar performance from Harris (who also directed). Harris’s Pollock is multilayered, but he’s never portrayed as a nice guy to whom bad things happen; some of his misery is self-inflicted, and some is well deserved. But at the same time, Harris doesn’t demonize Pollock; he’s shown to be human, just not humane. It’s a fine line that most actors find very difficult to tread, but somehow the veteran actor pulls it off.
As his wife, lover, muse, and agent, Marcia Gay Harden is absolutely mesmerizing. You may recall that she won the Oscar for Best Supporting Oscar for her work here, and she undeniably deserved the accolade. She turns in a performance that really belies her mostly unsung acting career. Even better, the chemistry between Harris and Gay Harden is fascinating; you can easily believe they’re lovers and fighters in real life.
And Jackson’s paintings are not given short shrift, either; one would not have blamed the producers for showing less of his work and more of the actors interacting with each other, because expressionist art is extremely subjective, and the producers do run the risk of people saying to themselves, “Sheesh, my kid could paint better than that!” Well, too bad. Maybe someday that kid will get a great biographical movie, too.
Pollock: 8
93 -Bridget Jones’ Diary
Posted by frothy in Bridget Jones' Diary on October 16, 2001
Rene Zellweger is a slim Texan with a thick, laconic drawl. The character of Bridget Jones is a chunky (by the author’s definition) British lass. Many readers of the Helen Fielding novel thought that the petite Zellweger was all wrong for the role, so the actress – get this – bulked up for the part. Good Lord! One look at Zellweger makes me think that if she bulked up, she must have been emaciated to begin with. This is bulking up? Put her sideways and you can see right past her. What Zellweger looks is normal; well, normal to me and you, perhaps, but really skinny (apparently) to Hollywood. In any event, she looks wonderful.
Bridget Jones is in her early thirties, unmarried, a drinker, and a smoker. On New Year’s Eve, she vows to clean up her life and make something of it, including giving up drinking and smoking and finding herself a good man to settle down with. And she likes her boss Daniel (Hugh Grant, who can play both nebbish and cad at the same time), but she doesn’t feel he likes her all that much. But before you can say “fat knickers”, Bridget has herself not one, but two beaus – and they both seem both good and bad at the same time, of course.
This isn’t a movie about juggling boyfriends, though, it’s about one ordinary woman’s attempt to improve herself, despite her own foibles and lack of inhibitions. Bridget is sprightly and intelligent, although not supersmart and certainly not always lucky in love. She’s attractive but sometimes uses her appearance to enhance her career.
The movie’s told in first person, with Bridget providing narration. Some of her observations of her boss, her coworkers, and her family are both endearing and accurate. Bridget is honest and forthright, but above all she’s one of us, and that’s the whole point of the movie. She behaves pretty much as any of us would, and it’s her realism that makes this a treat.
Bridget Jones’ Diary: 7
92 – Men of Honor
Posted by frothy in Men of Honor on October 16, 2001
Carl Brashear (Cuba Gooding, Jr.) is a young man in the U. S. Navy when he decides that he wants to become the first African-American Navy diver. Fighting intolerance and racial hatred, he perseveres.
That’s the story in a nutshell, but we don’t live in a nutshell, and thankfully neither does this movie. Some background material is provided about Carl, including his upbringing and first experiences with the elite Navy divers, but much of the time is spent on the diving school Carl attends in order to become a certified diver.
His constant nemesis at the school is Billy Sunday (Robert De Niro), who until only very recently was one of the most accomplished divers in Navy history. Sunday was injured trying to save a fellow sailor, diving too quickly after he had just come up from the depths. Now, his lungs are so fragile that any change in pressure will kill him. So, diving is out and schooling the youngsters is in.
Sunday hates Carl. It’s a hatred born of both an intolerance toward African Americans and a profound resentment of the Navy for the loss of his job (insubordination played a role, too). You’d expect there to be hazing of the brash young recruit, and there is some of that, but only on the part of Sunday; the rest of the class (all white) doesn’t really harass Carl all that much. That’s all relative, of course, but there’s an unmistakable focus on Sunday as the aggressor, not the class.
Carl is tough. Based on a true story (as they say in the film biz), this movie is told from his point of view. There are some cliches thrown in, but who’s to say whether they’re not accurate? Anyone’s life has cliches, and any time a biographical movie is made cliches will pop up. So one cannot fault the writing. It’s quickly paced, so you don’t lose sight of the issue.
The movie, you see, wants you to know how strong-willed Carl is, how good of a man he is, and how he overcame some incredible odds to succeed. It does not want the audience to focus on racism. While racism undoubtedly played a role in what Carl had to experience, it is not an issue that, in the minds of the filmmakers, should take precedence over the man himself.
Flash forward a little after the diving school, and you have two men whose lives have taken strikingly different paths (a la A Star Is Born, perhaps); Carl continues to prove himself as one of the best – perhaps even the best – divers in the Navy. Sunday, on the other hand, continually runs afoul of his superior officers, and finds himself busted down in ranks. It’s a very well played dichotomy – Carl the rising star, still a thorn solely on the basis of his skin color, and Sunday the sinking stone. One bubbles to the surface, while the other wallows around the murky depths.
But while storywise the focus is on Carl Brashear, the real show here are the galvanizing performances of De Niro and Gooding. While it’s true that Robert De Niro could play this role in his sleep, it’s so gratifying to see him screaming and yelling like he does in any of his tough-guy roles. This guy suddenly doesn’t bear any resemblence to the dad in Meet the Parents! And Gooding – well, he won an Oscar not too long ago for his work in Jerry Maguire. Often such an honor so soon into a movie career spells employment death for actors and actresses, but Gooding has, like Carl Brashear, persevered wonderfully. His performance is packed with nuance, an appealing and honest portrayal of an obsessive, talented man.
The only real downside to the movie is the title itself. It’s not exactly attention grabbing, and it’s fairly nondescript. If you were in the Navy, maybe you’d identify with the title right off the bat, but most people would need to hear that De Niro was involved with the project, and even then might not do it without knowing something about the plot. A little tip to the marketing fellas – let’s try to get some titles that say what they are, okay?
Men of Honor: 7.5 (add .5 if you like De Niro)
91 – The Pledge
Jerry Black (Jack Nicholson) is retiring as a cop. During his retirement party, a new case arises: a young girl, brutally murdered. Police quickly apprehend a suspect, a mentally deficient Native American (Benicio del Toro) who confesses to the crime under duress and then kills himself. End of case, right? The cops have their killer, and everyone has their closure, right?
Jerry is the one who has to break the news to the parents of the little girl, and the mother elicits a promise from the retiring cop to track down the killer. This is even before the alleged suspect is apprehended, and during the supposed confession, Jerry remains unconvinced. So much so that he works on the case after his retirement, much to the chagrin to his terminally pissed off former colleague Stan (Aaron Eckhart), who had been working on the case and who had gotten the confession from the suspect.
Jerry rents a place in the town where the girl who was killed lived and researches other murder that have similar characteristics. He buys a gas station/convenience store and falls for a waitress who has (coincidentally) a little girl herself. He becomes obsessed with the case, and of course his former coworkers don’t buy into his logic or hard work.
So the whole movie appears to be about Jerry working diligently to solve the murder. He doesn’t believe the true murder was caught, so of course we’re not meant to, either. This can be very gratifying, as we watch the pitfalls and peaks of his investigation, as well as his burgeoning relationship with the waitress.
However, it’s not. It’s about the one man’s obsession; in this case, an obession with an unsolved murder. It’s wonderful and mesmerizing to see Jack get into his role as much as he did, and you’re forever reminded that he’s a powerful actor. But be warned: This is NOT a psychological thriller. This is NOT a murder mystery. And although I won’t tell you the ending, I’ll have to say this much – the ending is terrible. You don’t feel good or angry, you feel… well, you feel cheated.
For the first three quarters of the movie, Sean Penn does a great job (he directed). For the final quarter, it’s as if someone’s kid brother was in charge. And unfortunately, as bad as that last quarter was, the rest of the movie can hardly compensate.
The Pledge: 4
90 – The Caveman's Valentine
Posted by frothy in Caveman's Valentine on October 13, 2001
Romulus (Samuel L. Jackson) lives in a cave in New York — well, okay, a “rock enclosure”. He’s psychotic, but he’s also a gifted composer who studied at Julliard. Decked out in dreadlocks and equipped with a passionate growl, Romulus tells all who will listen – and some who don’t want to – that the man who put him in his position in life lives at the top of one of the city’s tallest buildings. Whether this man is a real person is never made clear, but Romulus’s rage toward him certainly isn’t. He also hallucinates that his late wife is giving him advice and what-for, and that there are things in his head that tell him what to do. Yes, by almost any standard, this guy’s a little wacked in the head.
On Valentine’s Day, Romulus looks outside his cave and sees a young man frozen to death in a tree. The police, after investigating, determine that the man wasn’t quite in his right state of mind (since he was hardly dressed for winter and had been seen running around in that attire); but Romulus is skeptical, since a friend of the dead man claims a famous local avant-garde artist, David Leppenraub, killed him. Romulus’s estranged daughter is a precinct cop, but of course she won’t listen to the ravings of anyone, even her dad. So he sets out to do his own detective work.
This does make for an interesting movie, especially since Romulus’s prowess at the piano makes a few appearances. But other than Romulus himself, this isn’t much more than a standard detective story, one in which the ‘detective’ isn’t even directly involved with the crime.
Jackson is the entire show here. Just like Jodie Foster in Nell, Dustin Hoffman in Rain Man, and even James Belushi in Homer and Eddie, a character with severe mental issues is the main focus. But unlike those other characters, Romulus actually uses his ‘deficiencies’ to help him solve the murder. It’s not as if Jackson puts up a sign – “I am deranged, therefore I am turning in a magnificent performance”. Too often, actors (not necessarily those named above) use a mental handicap as a crutch for their character. This really isn’t the case with the gifted Jackson, who performs exceedingly well, giving a powerful, galvanizing performance. Each word is dripping with energy. Even if the character of Romulus wasn’t intended to grip you by your conscience, Jackson’s work would have done the trick. Usually, one can detach oneself from a movie, kind of watch it from afar, maybe even guessing ahead who the killer is. But Jackson’s so good, you can’t really do that. You become his pal, and you hope things turn out okay.
The Caveman’s Valentine: 6
89 – State and Main
Posted by frothy in State and Main on October 13, 2001
David Mamet is known for writing and/or directing movies that contain, shall we say, mighty salty language. He’s not known for his soft side. In his movies, the “f word” is used as all of the eight main parts of speech. Don’t get me wrong, though, his scripts are among the best in the business (although sometimes you get the feeling that a movie he’s written was intended for the stage, as the actors seem talky to a fault).
In State and Main, a band of moviemakers descends upon a quiet town in Vermont to film a movie called “The Old Mill”. (The group was kicked out of a similar New Hampshire town during filming; they had to build an old mill, but when they were kicked out, the town held the mill for ransom.) Waterford, VT is the perfect little town, and the company quickly begins to work. Director Walt Price (William H. Macy) buddies up with the mayor (a corpulent man, who is understandly happy to have his town in a movie). Chaos invades the town, which alternately meets the challenge with bemusement and an eye for opportunity.
Price has a lot of problems on the set. His leading lady (Sarah Jessica Parker) has recently discovered religion and refuses to bare her breasts, as stipulated in her contract. His leading man (Alec Baldwin) has a bad habit of hooking up with underage girls (“Hey, everyone’s gotta have a hobby,” he’s fond of saying). His timid but honest screenwriter (Philip Seymour Hoffman) can’t write, since the company’s lost his trusty old typewriter.
And to top it all off, the town has no old mill. None. It had one, yes, but it burned down in the 1960s during a spate of mysterious fires. So to fix the problem, Price demands that Joe the screenwriter rewrite the movie to reflect the lack of a mill, which of course means changing the title.
Mamet does a wonderful job lampooning his own industry, and from some of the performances you get the idea that these folks aren’t acting as much as being themselves. Baldwin, for example, has long had the reputation of being a bit self-centered on the set, and the machinations of Price and his producer, Marty (David Paymer), are fun to watch.
This is a lively film. There’s plenty going on, although a lot does center on the problems and issues of Joe (who’s hardly ever called that in the movie; he’s usually just referred to as “the screenwriter”), who falls for the pretty and talented Ann (Rebecca Pidgeon), the organizer and main impetus for the town’s stage troupe. Hoffman’s portrayal is sincere and believeable, and his interaction with Pidgeon is a real treat. Mamet’s known for using the same actors in his movies, and Pidgeon and Macy are both regulars of his stock company. Some of the best directors employ this tactic, as it build loyalty among a group of actors. If you’re comfortable working with someone, then you might want to keep working with them, and if
the smoothness of this movie is any indication, Mamet worked pretty well with his excellent cast.
State and Main: 7
88 – Sugar and Spice
Posted by frothy in Sugar and Spice on October 8, 2001
A high school cheerleading squad robs a bank in order to support the burdgeoning family of one of their own. They get the idea watching the Keanu Reeves movie Point Break and then watch movies like Reservoir Dogs and Dog Day Afternoon to figure out how exactly to pull the caper off.
Now, I know what you’re thinking. Sounds like a cutesy family movie, right? The kind that warms the cockles, wherever they are. Well, almost. It’s a dead-on, surprisingly hilarious comedy, with perfect off-center performances and a crisp, honest script.
The last cheerleading movie I saw (and quick, can you name more than a couple anyway? Didn’t think so) was the Kirsten Dunst comedy Bring It On. This one blows that out of the water, out of the atmosphere, and out of the solar system. There’s no moralizing. There’s no good-girls-are-right, bad-girls-are-wrong lesson. Heck, we’re talking about teenage girls pulling off a robbery! And one thing that could have sunk this movie early on was a character change. You’ve seen movies in which a character, faced with a new set of circumstances, does a 180-degree turnaround on how they’ve behaved up to that point. In this movie, you’d expect the girls to suddenly become flawless professional robbers. Not so. And while their plan has its faults, it’s still a plan, buoyed by the vacant aphorisms of their leader, the pregnant and chipper Diane (Marley Shelton). Sing-songy and ebullient, the kids squabble among themselves but, in the true spirit of cheerleading and gosh-darn Girl Scout-like togetherness, they pull together as a team. Hip! Hip! Hooray!
Decent cheerleading movies are hard to come by. Come to think of it, so are any cheerleading movies. Oh, not that I’m looking, but I can name only two off the top of my head: Bring It On and the legendary, overlooked (okay, just kidding) 1977 opus Satan’s Cheerleaders. But the latter’s pep squad was in college, so it’s different. But I digress.
Truth be told, there’s not a dull moment in the movie. Diane’s knocked up before the prom by her dimwit football-hero boyfriend, Jack. This guy’s so stupid he gets himself fired from such seemingly unfirable jobs as fast-food employee and other glamorous retail employment opportunities. See, in the real world, Jack’d be upset that the luster had worn off his diamond of an image, having to work with geeks at the video store. But he’s a dope, blissfully ignorant. He knows but one thing – that he loves Diane – and being such a dullard is supremely helpful to the film (and isn’t easy to do; kudos goes to James Marsden in the role).
In short, a real hoot. We’ve seen many bank robbery movies with their own twists and idiosyncrasies; this one’s one of the better ones to come down the pike. Go team go!
Sugar and Spice: 8
87 – Along Came a Spider
Posted by frothy in Along Came a Spider on October 5, 2001
Morgan Freeman’s quickly becoming the professional weary cop-actor. He was world-weary in Seven, world-weary in Kiss the Girls, and world-weary in this movie, a prequel of sorts to Kiss.
Freeman plays Alex Cross, a detective with baggage (they do seem to have a lot of that in movies, but I think this is one characteristic that carries over fluidly from real life), as his most recent partner died during a stakeout they were running. A senator’s young daughter is kidnapped, and the killer seeks out Cross, who literally wrote the book on profiling serial killers. (Why he would seek out Cross above all other law-enforcement officials isn’t satisfactorally explained beyond the “wrote the book” angle.)
Helping Cross in his quest to find the killer is a young, gorgeous FBI agent (Monica Potter), who had been in charge of the little tyke when she was taken from her elite school (where other offspring of dignitaries are educated). Agent Flannigan blames herself for the situation, and Cross gives her the ol’ “c’mon now, it wasn’t your fault, now what say you and I nab this do-badder?” speech. The speech works, and a temporary partnership is formed.
The most amazing part of the movie is, of course, Freeman himself. His tired, experienced eyes seem to take in everything, and his facial expressions do lend a sense of quick thinking and shrewd analysis. It’s not likely any other actor could have performed in this movie as well as Freeman did; he’s just a perfect fit for the character itself.
As Flannigan, Potter is chirpy, but not one-dimensional. She comes across as an experienced agent, one with her own sort of baggage. Not much attention, however, is paid to her character development; this is Freeman’s show all the way.
The rest of the supporting cast includes Michael Wincott as the baddie, Dylan Baker as the special agent in charge of the investigation (who, at times, seems to be aping Tommy Lee Jones in The Fugitive and U.S. Marshals), and Michael Moriarity and Penelope Ann Miller as the parents of the kidnapped girl. Moriarty has very, very little to say or do in this movie – in fact, I can only recall one scene in which he spoke – but Miller essays a distinct sense of controlled emotion in each of her scenes. She’s effective and provocative, but in terms of how often her character appears, largely ineffective (plus, she seems to be slumming – wasn’t long ago she’d have had the role Potter had).
I really did like this movie, although I understand that if you’ve read the book by James Patterson, you might be upset at how much was changed – and of course, having read the book might make you a lot more critical than if you approached it for the first time. It’s a tight mystery, well played by almost everyone, especially the solid, steadfast Freeman.
Along Came a Spider: 7
86 – Driven
This agreeably stupid movie centers on the testosterone-laden world of auto racing, with the won’t-he-ever-go-away Sylvester Stallone starring as an over-the-hill driver who’s hired to help coach a much-younger and more promising young stud named Jimmy Bly (Kip Pardue), Shades of Bull Durham!
With a grunt and an eyeroll, Joe Tanto (Stallone) does his bit. He was a wild one in his youth, but now that he’s older, he’s settled down and become more mature and is therefore the perfect teacher for the youngster. Come to think of it, Stallone himself went through this in Rocky 5, when he had to train Tommy Morrison. And Stallone’s done a driving film already, too – see Death Race 2000 (1975).
Okay. Let’s assume that cliches are fine and dandy, and that you don’t mind that there’s no hidden meaning to anything in this movie, that there’s no nuances to be felt. If you’re in the mood for racing and the juice that comes with it, here’s a movie for you. But guess what? You’ll still be disappointed. The racing’s fine, but it often takes a back seat to the so-called storyline. There’s a girl, of course, who comes between a few drivers, and there has be a Eurotrash bad guy (although he’s not ALL bad; one of the few characters who has more than one layer). Oh, and an owner (Burt Reynolds) and a crew chief (Robert Sean Leonard) who put the almighty dollar before the hearts and souls of their drivers. Yep, we’ve never seen that before.
Here’s a sample scene: young driver gets all huffy because he interprets the actions of the European driver to mean that the European driver is trying to steal the woman of the young driver. Only she’s not his woman. Anyway, he rushes off, all steamed, and takes one of the open-wheel cars (Indy cars, for you racing buffs) through the streets of Tokyo. Naturally, Sly Stallone has to go after him – in another racing car, since (of course) he’d never catch up to him in a regular car. How convenient that there were two cars there, huh?
It’s a pretty ludicrous movie, but what makes it worse is that there’s music constantly playing, sometimes in the background, sometimes blaring even over the monotonous hum of the cars as they zoom around the ellipse. Perhaps the filmmakers figured they would drown out the actors as they spoke their transparent, derivative, yawners of lines. Watching this movie, I was reminded of those old “let’s put on a show” movies that Mickey Rooney and Judy Garland used to do back in the day. Those movies even then were filled with cliches and overacting, and Driven’s right in the ballpark, if not in the spirit of the movie. At least we can look back fondly at the Rooney/Garland movies; does anyone honestly think we’ll do the same for Driven ?
And watching Sly Stallone act is a painful experience these days. It’s a shame, too, because Driven is just the kind of movie that should suit him – the problem is, it’s badly written and directed, and just about everyone who appears in it overacts strenuously, as if they were auditionin for just the kind of show Mickey and Judy used to put on.
Driven: 3
85 – Memento
Leonard (Guy Pearce) has a memory problem: He cannot form new memories. He forgets things a few minutes after they’ve occured. This is caused by emotional and physical trauma he suffered when he once woke up in the middle of the night and saw his wife murdered by asphyxiation. Now Leonard’s determined to figure how who the killer is.
To combat his ailment, Leonard takes photos with an Instamatic camera and writes a sentence or two on the back of the picture. He snaps pictures of people whom he’s not sure if he just met – and he’s also never sure if they’re friend or foe. Among the players are Teddy (Joe Pantoliano) and Natalie (Carrie-Anne Moss), the latter of whom supposedly lost a loved one in a similar matter and who therefore feels a sort of kinship with the traumatized Leonard.
The most fascinating aspect of this movie is that it’s shot out of sequence. Because Leonard’s memories are pretty much kaput (he can clearly remember everything up to the murder, but not subsequent memories), we actually get to see the same scenes a couple of times. No, it’s not repetitive. Here’s an example. Scene fades in, and Leonard is running through backyards, cutting, juking, zigging, and zagging. He suddenly says – for we can hear his thoughts – “Ok, where am I? He spots another man running nearby. “Oh,” Leonard thinks, “I’m chasing him,” and he starts to move in the other man’s direction. Oops – the man suddenly charges back at Leonard. “No, wait… he’s chasing me!” Leonard thinks. And in another scene, we see the events leading up to that particular chase, as well as events after it. It’s up to the viewer to place them in the right order, but seeing the scenes out of sequence, I think, is very useful here. Things are clearer when they’re revisited with more information.
Now, when Leonard writes on the back of the photos, what he writes is influenced greatly by whatever has happened just prior to the photograph’s creation. This complicates things greatly; if he thinks someone’s a nice person, he’ll snap the picture and write on the back that they’re a nice person. But later, he’ll look at the picture – without remembering anything – and take the words at face value. If it says he liked the person, then the person’s good, even though he might not have known much about that person.
There are infinite twists to this movie, and the ending is fantastic. You may know right off that this is no ordinary who-killed-my-wife caper, but you will have a tough time predicting the outcome.
Memento: 9
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