Archive for May, 2005
206 – Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith
Posted by frothy in Star Wars Episode III on May 25, 2005
Watching the final part of the prequel trilogy gives one a real sense of closure, which is very good indeed, but also a real sense of emptiness, which isn’t so good. I don’t mean just an empty feeling because there are no more Star Wars films on the horizon, I mean empty as in sadly unfulfilling. If Star Wars Episode III were a candy bar, it wouldn’t be Snickers.
Going into the theater, you already have a sense of what’ll be in the movie, because you know how Episode IV (aka Star Wars) began. So you know which characters from Episodes I and II won’t make it to the end of III, you know what’ll happen to the Jedi Council, and you know who turns evil and gets to wear a totally badass helmet.
Sometimes being familiar with characters (perhaps intimately) is a good thing, because it makes it all the easier for one to root for them. On the other hand, knowing what’s going to happen – and how things will end – can also be a debit, because then the viewer has a certain set of expectations that he or she feels should be met, expectations that when not met contribute to feelings of disappointment and disillusionment.
Anakin Skywalker (Hayden Christensen), pupil to Master Obi-Wan Kenobi (Ewan McGregor) is torn between aiding the Jedi Council and Chancellor Palpatine while war rages on against Darth Sidious, Count Dooku, General Grievous, and the rest of the merry men of evil. Meanwhile, his wife Padme (Natalie Portman) can see her husband only in secret, lest knowledge of the union between a Jedi and a senator become known.
Even though there are plenty of explosions, stunts, and general mayhem, the movie is really about the moral failings of man: Should Anakin stay on the true path as the Chosen One, fighting for good along with the other Jedi Knights? Or should he succumb to the Dark Side and help those he loves? Can he be selfish and selfless at the same time? Since he is such a young warrior, it seems, he is easily manipulated, but the catch is that he knows he’s being manipulated by someone. Anakin’s problem is that he doesn’t know who is doing the manipulation, and he suddenly doesn’t know whom to trust. Trust is a central theme to the story: Anakin’s trust of the Council, of Obi-Wan, and of Padme; the Council’s trust of Anakin and Palpatine; Padme’s trust of Anakin. Their relationships offer an interesting juxtaposition with the violence and action surrounding them.
With the first two episodes of the prequels, the viewer really didn’t know what to expect. We knew where Star Wars began, of course, and we knew these three movies would lead us to it, but we didn’t know how. What adventures would happen along the way? But with the third movie, less was left unknown before the movie even began. I knew what was going to happen, so I was counting on George Lucas to perhaps throw me a few curveballs to keep me off balance – and, of course, wow me with his special effects wizardry.
My problem with the third episode was that it was simply there; it’s almost as if it were a bridge to the fourth episode, rather than being a standalone episode itself. I wasn’t really excited by this movie, which is in itself a major disappointment. I wasn’t shocked, amazed, or surprised, and that’s a real shame. True, it’s great to see familiar characters (including one late in the movie who shows up in the next episodes), and it’s fun to see them do battle against their sworn enemies. It’s fascinating to watch Anakin turn from callow youth to diabolic fiend bent on ruling the galaxy. But I knew the end result, and there was nothing compelling about the storyline.
On the plus side, the acting by Christensen and Portman – especially in their shared scenes – has dramatically improved, although there are still moments when Christensen seems like he’s only four lessons into a ten-lesson acting course. McGregor channels the late Alec Guinness; one can easily see how he becomes the old man we see in Episode IV.
Even at nearly two and a half hours, the movie is fairly well paced, without some of the lulls that plagued the first two prequels. And the effects are certainly believable, not to mention those employed to animate Yoda and other nonhuman characters. The hand-to-hand fighting scenes are wonderful to behold, always credible.
But the movie just doesn’t grab you the way it should. It’s the final movie in the series; we won’t see another one. It should grab the viewer by the ears and shake him a bit. Instead, George Lucas’ epic series finally comes to a close not with a bang-pop-zowie of an exploding Death Star but with the slight whimper of a Jedi sliced in two by a light saber.
Star Wars Episode III: Revenge of the Sith: **1/2
205 – Sideways
Sideways is a pretty, poignant, genial tale of two longtime college buddies who embark on a weeklong tour of wineries and golfing before one of them (Thomas Haden Church) succumbs to the shackles of marriage.
Whatever your taste in buddy movies is, you’ll probably find something you like in Sideways, which mixes the effete elitism of wine-lovers with the frat-boy antics of philanderers in wickedly seamless fashion.
Miles (Paul Giamatti) wants to give Jack (Church) a good sendoff before he joins his betrothed in holy matrimony at the end of the week. Miles, an avid – some would say sneeringly snotty – oenophile, comes up with the nifty idea of the two of them driving up the coast of California touring various wineries and vineyards and such. That way Miles can show off his knowledge and Jack can have a one last good, free time.
One small problem. Although Miles is perfectly content to wine and whine for the week, Jack’s eye wanders – and soon he’s setting up a double dinner date with a winery employee (Sandra Oh) and a waitress (Virginia Madsen). Suddenly the trip’s not about the two friends bonding one last time, it’s more about Jack sowing his wild oats (figuratively, hopefully) while he still can. This change in plans leads to awkward, funny, and funny-awkward moments; meanwhile, poor Miles – recovering from a divorce (and finding out secondhand that his ex-wife has just remarried) and waiting to hear if his latest literary opus will be accepted for publication – is a walking rubberband ball of neuroses and nerves. He tries to maintain the trip’s focus, while Jack just tries to have a little fun.
As with most buddy films, Things That Go Wrong tend to snowball into something far greater, and on one level Sideways is a typical road trip movie, including assumptions, lies, illogical decisions, red herrings, and so forth – all in the name of low comedy. But on another level, the movie is an honest look at love and relationships from the perspective of a single, closing-in-on-middle-age male.
Even though Giamatti and Church were hardly unknown actors before Sideways, this is truly the breakthrough film for each. Giamatti, a veteran character actor perhaps best known for his role as Pig Vomit in the screen version of Howard Stern’s Private Parts, is perfectly in his element as the self-obsessed, nervous, sincere Miles. It’s a performance to which many people can instantly relate; Miles is not handsome, he’s not smooth, he’s not really all that charming, but somehow he’s still appealing. He’s a good guy who tries to do well and sometimes suffers the whims of Lady Luck. Church is known for two TV series he was in, “Wings” and “Ned & Stacey,” and I can’t recall his ever being classified as a good actor, just an entertaining one. But he’s wonderful as the rowdy, randy, perpetually horny Jack; he seems to give the role an extra layer of depth. You can’t just write Jack off as a selfish bastard, just as you can’t just write Miles off as a dork.
Director Alexander Payne, who made the clever Election, does a fantastic job at transforming what’s really a two-character study (everyone else, including the two female leads, is background to the relationship between Miles and Jack) into a realistic, fully textured movie. Payne’s screenplay doesn’t dwell on caricatures and doesn’t offer pat explanations or resolutions. Sometimes, the film tells us, things don’t end up good or bad. They just continue on.
Although Giamatti and Church are at center stage, Oh and Madsen are both fantastic, although perhaps slightly underused. In particular, Madsen (who earned an Oscar nomination, as did Church), makes the most of her brief screen time, oozing intelligence, wit, charm, and sexuality from every pore.
Sideways doesn’t move too slowly and isn’t too talky, and because wine is one theme, there are plenty of beautifully photographed scenes of the lovely Napa Valley’s vineyards. Sideways is thoughtful, entertaining, and facinating.
Sideways: ***
204 – Closer
If you enjoyed Eyes Wide Shut, if you are entertained by long-winded, talky movies about whiny pretty people who can’t commit and have no idea what they want, then Closer is your cup of tea. Go see it and love the overwrought cheesy sentimentality out of it.
Closer is about four people, two sets of couples, whose lives fall apart when two of them begin an affair with each other. Dan (Jude Law) helps Alice (Natalie Portman) when she’s struck by a cab. The two quickly fall for each other, of course. Not long after, Dan – an aspiring writer – has his picture professionally taken for the book jacket of his novel. The photographer is Anna (Julia Roberts); unsurprisingly, Dan falls for her as well, and vice versa. And then somehow Larry (Clive Owen) tumbles into the mix; he’s tricked by Dan into meeting Anna, who falls for him, but then he falls for Alice, and… Oh, what’s the use? Those of you who love romantic dramas will likely get into this, and those who do not, won’t.
But here’s the thing, okay? It’s a talky, slow movie that relies very heavily on a rather turgid, melodramatic script – not to mention the charms of the four very good-looking leads. At times, the dialogue really clicks with some subtle, clever twists of the word, but most of the movie is filled with dopey, unrealistic, stilted verbalizations. It’s not that the movie doesn’t make any sense; on the contrary, it’s fairly simple to follow. So simple, in fact, that you can easily tell what’s coming next. There are no surprises in Closer.
The tone is set very early, with an inexorable opening song that seems to merely repeat its refrain ad infinitum. Much like the movie, which repeats its theme in the same grueling, amateurish manner, only with different characters. Look! Now she’s dumping him! Now he’s with her and dumping the other one! Woohoo! Go, you wacky lovers, go!
The casting is pretty good, though. Julie Roberts can really act, you know, and she’s quite effective here. Law isn’t bad, but he’s been much better – he actually overacts late in the film, going against the grain of understated quiet. They do make a cute couple, though. Which leads me to Portman, who’s the lightweight of the bunch. She turns in a fairly good performance, although there were a couple scenes in which she just didn’t feel right for the role. Owen’s character is the crass bastard of the lot, and the actor is up the task. But damn, Clive! You couldn’t shave for the role? You look like you should be hiding in bushes, waiting to flash little old ladies. But then again, that was part of his character’s appeal.
As interesting as the circuitry in a pocket calculator, as engrossing as a 1975 auto-repair manual, and as excruciating as a long morning in a dentist’s chair, Closer is a dream come true for folks who like sitting in a catatonic state, drool seeping out of the corner of their mouths.
Closer: *1/2
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203 – Finding Neverland
Posted by frothy in Finding Neverland on May 13, 2005
Finding Neverland is the story of how struggling playwright J. M. Barrie (Johnny Depp) created Peter Pan, inspired by an equally struggling widow (Kate Winslet) and her four rambunctious boys. Exquisitely detailed, with sumptuous and elaborate set pieces, Marc Forster’s filming of the Allan Knee play is artful without being arty.
Johnny Depp is perfectly cast as Barrie, although there’s the usual caveat that Johnny Depp is perfectly cast in almost anything. He might well be the best actor working today, especially since he refuses to let himself become typecast. Hard to believe now that he used to be on that old Fox TV show, isn’t it? Depp is dead-on earnest as the wise, soulful Barrie, who becomes a sort-of surrogate father to the four Davies boys, whose father has since passed away (although in real life he hadn’t yet died when Barrie met the family).
Although the movie is about the creation of Peter Pan, at its heart are smaller dovetailing storythreads about relationships, particularly those between Barrie and his wife, Mary (Radha Mitchell), Barrie and Sylvia Davies (Winslet), and Barrie and the youngest Davies boy, Peter (Freddie Highmore). Depp’s mastery of expression and pathos are on display here, as he turns in an utterly commanding, pitch-perfect performance; his Oscar nomination for this role was well deserved indeed.
Depp is supported by an excellent cast that looks like it’s been performing the roles for years. In particular, Winslet and Mitchell were magnificent, as was the venerable Julie Christie, who plays Sylvia’s mother Mrs. Emma du Maurier. Dustin Hoffman turns in decent work as Charles Frohman, the proprietor of the playhouse in which Barrie’s plays were performed (in other words, his patron). As Depp is now, Hoffman was long known for being able to disappear into a role – his roles in the 1970s alone are mighty eclectic indeed.
This is a sheer beauty to behold, a movie that should certainly stand the test of time to be regarded in a few decades as a true classic. Your jaw will drop at some of the set pieces on display – check out the pirate ship! – and you’ll marvel at the jaunty forays into the imagination of the playwright who never grew up. Finding Neverland will have even the most jaded and heartless melting and shimmering with pure, unadulterated joy.
Finding Neverland: ****
202 – What the #$*! Do We Know!?
Posted by frothy in What the #$*! Do We Know? on May 11, 2005
What the #$*! Do We Know!? grabs you by your conventional wisdom and beats the living stuffing out of you with the new craze that’s sweeping the physics world: quantum physics.
Told within the framework of a quiet photographer (Marlee Matlin), the movie is part documentary, part fiction, interspersing the everyday adventures of Matlin’s character with interviews with renowned scientists from around the world. It’s beautiful, it’s intriguing, and it’ll have you scratching your head in mystified dissonance.
Amanda (Matlin) is a divorced photographer who’s somehow just plugging along in life, not really enjoying herself but not really swimming in pain, either. One day she finds the world she knows – the world we know, the physical world – blending with that of the other, deeply hidden worlds that inhabit our universe: the cellular, molecular, and quantum worlds.
What is reality? the movie asks. What do we know, and why do we know it? Isn’t reality shaped by our own perceptions? The scientists examine these questions without actually answering them. How can they, really? There is so very little that we as humans know about our selves and our universe.
Supported by amazing visual effects, the movie successfully relies on the impassioned earnestness with which the scientists deliver their thoughts. None of them are as dry as the lecturers I sometimes had in college; rather, they are so emotionally divested, so enthusiastic in their pursuit of the mysteries of life, the universe, and everything, that even those who never graduated from college can comprehend the rather complex issues being discussed.
What the #$*! Do We Know!? isn’t necessarily for everyone, but although the subject matter is pretty heavy, the movie’s approach is never heavy handed. You don’t have to buy into any of the theories espoused by the scientists in this movie – and some seem to contradict each other, if only slightly – but after you finish the film, your mind should feel like it’s been poked in a few new places.
What the #$*! Do We Know!?: ***
201 – Sin City
The most striking aspect of Sin City, aside from its amazing cinematography, is that it’s in the wrong medium entirely. Based on a series of graphic novels by Frank Miller, Sin City manages to be both provocative and ridiculous, and to achieve the former it requires that the viewer not only suspend disbelief but throw it out of the window of a moving car over a large body of water.
The movie is split into three stories that overlap each other slightly: “The Hard Goodbye,” “The Big Fat Kill,” and “That Yellow Bastard.” All of them take place in a mythical hellhole called Basin City, whose appelation is, of course, shortened by all who reference it, given the death and sex and violence and other varied depravities that take place in it.
In the first story, Marv (Mickey Rourke) is an ugly, scarred thug who wakes up to find that the girl next to him in bed, Goldie (Jaime King) has been murdered during the night – and that the cops are on their way to get him for the crime. Marv doesn’t go quietly, naturally, and vows not to rest until he’s found Goldie’s killer and avenged her. The second story is about an ex-photographer (Clive Owen) who – with the help of gun-totin’, knife-wielding hookers – kills a cop and then has to cover up the crime. And the third story is about an honest-joe cop named Hartigan (Bruce Willis), who saves a little girl from molestation and death – but is himself framed for the crime.
If the movie had been presented in realistic animated form, it would have been such an easier sell. When I watch a cartoon, I know that the anvil landing on Wile E. Coyote’s head isn’t hurting the poor canine. But I do expect that most of the laws of physics should apply – if the coyote throws something into the air, it will indeed come down eventually. When I watch a live-action movie, I expect every one of the laws of physics to apply – or, at least when they don’t quite follow those rules, my brain doesn’t register it and instead focuses on the nifty special effects.
But this movie is kind of stuck in the middle. Marv runs *at* a speeding police car and jumps at it, his legs driving into the windshield. Okay, if that were a cartoon I wouldn’t give it a second thought. If it were a live-action movie, I might – unless Marv were some supervillian bent on world domination and his ability to jump into windshields at 80 mph could thus be explained. But because he wasn’t – he’s just some giant schlub with a lot of scars – my brain immediately did a double take – “Huh? Wha?”
Aside from logic, there’s the dialog itself. In comic books – sorry, graphic novels – the dialog is *supposed* to be melodramatic, even stilted, especially when the story is set in a noirish age (think 1940s New York City). But in a live-action movie, this just plain doesn’t work. Indeed, the dialog was completely unconvincing and insincere; it sounded more fitting for the back of a cereal box. Miller’s dialog was childish and absurd; at no point did his words allow me to buy into the entire concept of a “translated” graphic novel. (Example: On two occasions someone utters, “Yeesh!” in reaction to some kinda bloody mess. Who in the world says “Yeesh”? Honestly.)
The very first scene – a meeting betwen Hartigan and his partner, Bob (Michael Madsen) was howlingly awful, and I initially thought the dialog was intentionally being exaggerated for (melo)dramatic effect. Then I quickly discovered that the entire movie was going to be like that, that this wasn’t some sly commentary about how awful the dialog was in old-time mystery films.
Given that Robert Rodiguez codirected (with Miller) and that Quentin Tarantino was listed as a “guest director,” I expected some wit, even if it were in the form of gallows humor. Sadly, none was to be found, and the movie was instead as soulless and empty as the denizens of Sin City itself. The bad guys weren’t charming, the good guys weren’t normal, and even the reverse wasn’t true. No one was likeable, which is a good thing in a purportedly gritty crime drama, but neither was anyone unlikeable; the fact is, I didn’t care anything about the characters one way or another, and that’s a serious misstep on the part of the screenwriter.
Far too long (124 minutes, but it felt like five hours), Sin City misfired for me on all cylinders. Booze, broads, and bullets (to take a phrase from the film) are all great, but even the explosions and gunplay – not to mention scads of scantily clad women holding said guns – couldn’t overcome the vast pile of ineptitude in nearly all aspects of the movie, from casting to dialog to pacing to good ol’ fashioned logic. Only saving grace is the excellent cinematography, but it’s not enough to resuce an abysmal effort.
Sin City: *
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