Wednesday, June 20, 2007

AFI 100 Years...100 Movies 10th Anniversary


In 1997, the American Film Institute (AFI) released their first of numerous lists intended to celebrate 100 years of American film. This series, called 100 Years..., has been, to put it lightly, rather controversial among critics, who have cited numerous flaws in the list. However, like any good list of art should, the series has started a interesting, surprisingly prolonged debate about the American film canon and if nothing else, provided this writer with an entry point into the rather expansive history of cinema. The first list, entitled 100 Years... 100 Movies, combined with my first viewing of Mel Gibson's Braveheart sparked my interest in film and in the past 10 years, I have, for better or worse, enveloped myself in the history of film. My initial goal was to watch all 100 of the films but as time wore on, that goal fell by the wayside in favor of branching out to try and experience everything film had to offer me, not just one single list. However, with the release of the AFI's 10th anniversary list tonight, I'd be lying if I didn't honestly admit that I am excited to revisit these films having seen many of them.

Many will probably roll their eyes at this but for me, the AFI's efforts to educate and promote American cinematic history holds a special place in my heart, as if it wasn't for their initial list, I might have never been motivated to watch many of the films I now consider to be the absolutely pinnacles of the art form. As of the airing of AFI 100 Years...100 Movies 10th Anniversary, I have seen 77 of the films on the original 100 Movies listing. Of the nominated 400 films for the new list, I have seen 214. In other words, despite my concerted efforts to immerse myself in film, I have a ways to go. However, I would be willing to bet that I have seen many more of the films than a typical filmgoer. That said, here are my thoughts on what one might see in terms of changes between the two lists, 10 years apart.
-I think the top 10 will stay roughly the same. Casablanca, Citizen Kane, The Godfather and Gone With The Wind will all remain near the top of the list, as they have been overwhelmingly represented in other AFI lists. I would not be surprised to see Citizen Kane fall out of the top spot in favor of Casablanca or The Godfather. Not saying its going to happen, just saying its not untouchable.

-Film with the best chance of dropping out of the top 10 (unfortunately) is Singin' in the Rain. It occupies a place in my top 5-6 but given the current political climate, its happy go lucky vibe may lose some points.

-Films with the best chance of making significant moves: Chinatown, the Vietnam films (Apocalypse Now, Platoon, The Deer Hunter), All Quiet on the Western Front, Noirs of 40's (Maltese Falcon, The Third Man), basically any hardened cynical films on the first list. Much like the politics of the day may end up hurting a film like Singin' In the Rain, it may end up helping some of the works that question authority and war.

-Film with the best chance of making the Top 100 that wasn't on the 1997 list: The Conversation by Francis Ford Coppola. Its obvious the AFI likes this period of Coppola (who doesn't) as this film is book ended in production dates by The Godfather I and II. It is a film that seemed designed for Patriot Act era viewing and has been critically lauded over the past decade.

-Film with best chance of dropping out of the Top 100: Yankee Doodle Dandy. The 100th film in 1997 has little to say at this given time. Its gone.

-Film that should be on the list but probably won't be: Three Kings. The best film made about modern warfare is a whip smart, timely film that deserves recognition. It won't get it.

-Film that shouldn't be on the list but might be: Crash. If Haggis' overrated sermon gets a nod and Do The Right Thing does not, I'll be devastated but given the racial undertones of Hurricane Katrina, a film that deals with the interplay of race in LA might seem enticing.

-Biggest Question: Will all/any of the LOTR films make the list? They were heralded by just about everyone as being the most monumental achievements in recent years. How high will they go?

What are your thoughts? I'll be back tomorrow with reactions. Enjoy the show!

Friday, June 1, 2007

Knocked Up: Review

Judd Apatow is something of an enigma in modern Hollywood, a man who creates popular films that are readily accessible yet endlessly thoughtful and heartfelt. In fact, through his first two films (excluding his TV work), he has produced two more films of social significance and moral boundaries than pretty much any other director working in straight comedy today. But to be fair, with Knocked Up, his latest bona fide masterpiece, he isn’t working strictly in comedy, deftly blending heartbreaking melancholy with gut busting laughs that when put together on the screen form a bittersweet and humane picture that will be long remembered as one of the year’s pinnacles. Before you go running for the closest art house theatre to cleanse yourself of the mainstream ickyness, hear me out. Mark my words, there will be no film released this year that so wonderfully explores sex, love and marriage, three cornerstones of life, distilling the topics into a digestible 2 hour package that will (and should, if you have any heart whatsoever) deeply resonate with anyone lucky enough to experience it.

Apatow, who cut his teeth on the sets of “The Larry Sanders Show”, “Freaks and Geeks” and “Undeclared”, has been blessed with a undeniable talent for mixing pathos and comedy in way that brings to mind the names of Chaplin, Keaton, Sturges and Hughes. For today’s audiences, he is creating our modern day City Lights or Sullivan’s Travels, that is, cinema that speaks to the human condition in a universal language. Knocked Up strikes me as the type of film that the writers of Cahiers Du Cinema would adore, a cinematic achievement imbued with a pop conscious and self awareness that are hidden behind the guise of a stoner flick. The film’s trailers, which make it out to be a slight comedy, don’t do Apatow’s masterpiece justice, cutting the film’s most heartfelt moments for instances of straight laughs. Don’t worry folks, there are plenty of gut-busting laughs but there is so much more here that demands a viewing. The best part of it is that it doesn’t even require careful viewing but just a small dose of patience and the ability to laugh.

Despite being supported by a knockout ensemble cast that has literally no weak points, Knocked Up puts all its eggs in the basket of its four leads, who if they weren’t up to the task, the film would fall flat on its face. Luckily for the general public, Seth Rogen, Katherine Heigl, Paul Rudd and Leslie Mann absolutely shine in their roles, propping the admittedly heavy emotional weight of the film on their shoulders and carrying it from start to finish. Rogen and Heigl, play a couple, Ben and Allison, that after a drunken one night stand find themselves with a new member of their non-existent family on the way, and are particularly stunning, taking their characters and crafting them into likeable humans, not cookie cutter creations played for laughs. Thanks to their work, the gravity of the situation at hand is given real weight, the audience is desperately pulling for their struggle to work out, not necessarily for the two to wind up together but merely to have their find a common ground onto which their newborn can grow. Ben is almost effortlessly loveable, a doofus forced into a fight to find himself while Allison and the baby’s biological clock slowly ticks onward. Both are up to the task, matching each other’s performance note for note and if these two don’t become stars from this movie, it will only be a matter of time before their delicious charisma finds another way to show itself.

Rudd and Mann (Apatow’s real life wife) play Allison’s sister, Debbie, and brother-in-law, Pete, who exist to provide the audience with a glimpse into what exactly Ben and Allison are venturing into. Debbie and Pete have been married for nearly ten years and the time has created a number of rifts in their relationship, ranging from Pete’s desire for the male friendships he once had and is now missing to Debbie’s frustrations with Pete’s inability to communicate his emotions with her. Their relationship provides the film with its most dramatic moments and feels painfully real. It will act as a mirror to any couple that sees the film, revealing their own inadequacies and annoyances in the process. One scene, in particular, is especially heartfelt: Debbie, who fears that Pete is cheating on her, follows him to a house only to walk in on something she would never expect. What happens afterwords is a brilliant exchange, punctuated by Debbie’s tearful cry in which she tells Pete that he doesn’t have to yell to be mean, that he is plenty cruel as he is. This comes as a shock to Pete but reveals a great deal about relationships in general: one doesn’t need to be outwardly and obviously cruel to deny their partner with the care that they need. Too often do we walk mindlessly through life, ignoring the others feelings without even thinking about it.

Apatow, by giving equal weight to both the male and female sides of the subject, ends up as more of a moderator than lecturer. He allows his characters to explore these conflicts, giving the audience the necessary tools to sort out the issues themselves. Rogen, Heigl, Rudd and Mann are brilliant, taking a wonderful script and creating a transcendent bliss that emanates from the screen whenever they are present.
By the film’s conclusion, which features some graphic images of the birthing process, any non-believer should be converted. Apatow is unflinching in his presentation, exposing raw emotions that have been hidden behind some sophomoric humor. By including those lasting images of a child’s head crowning, Apatow shows that his camera is here merely to document life, to capture these magical moments for posterity, whether they were produced naturally or artificially. In fact, in those fleeting shots, all of which drew audible gasps from the audience, Apatow creates a manifesto of sorts that envelopes the larger film. Even when it may seem to be at its grossest moments, it reveals emotions and experiences that are often times startling but are never meant for merely shock value. While this may not hold true for all of 40 Year Old Virgin, it does for Knocked Up. Each scene pulls back another layer until the entire picture comes into view, one of family embracing each other. At its core Knocked Up is a thoroughly wholesome film in unwholesome trappings, a work of art that is based on a set of morals that value maturity, family and love. By including the shots of birth, Apatow forces the audience to understand the importance of the situation at hand, that this moment in the most life changing event in both Ben and Allison’s life. He wants his viewers to feel the pain and joy of the moment. I would be lying if I didn’t admit that I found the exact instant of when we first see Ben and Allison’s child to be life affirming, a moment in which all the pain and struggle feel completely worth it.

In brief, Knocked Up is easily not only the best comedy of the year but the best of recent memory. It affirms the importance of life and more interestingly, the importance of cinema. Few works of art, of literature, of music has touched me in such a unique and wonderful way and while this may seem like hyperbole to some, Knocked Up is one of the year’s finest films, not for its over abundance of laughs, but for its stunning honesty. By so revealingly putting on display both the inner workings of relationships, marriage and childbirth, it shows how powerful a medium film can be. It can allow us to laugh, cry and think all in a brief few frames. Knocked Up is a splendid film, highlighted by a wonderful view of humanity that should be experienced by young and old alike. It may just make you look at the way you treat your significant other, your children or your friends. It may just make you look at the way you live your life.

*****

Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End: Review


There are few franchises that have done a complete 180 so quickly as which after an enjoyable first installment, featuring a dynamite lead performance by Johnny Depp and a giddy swashbuckling feel, has sunk to the bottom of the title's sea like the bloated, overblown stone it is. While I have never been (and likely never will be) as unabashed a fan of Pirates of the CaribbeanCurse of the Black Pearl, I can understand its appeal. Its effortless blend of humor and action and sound family friendly feel is perfectly tailored to the summer multiplexes. As to why it became as popular as it did, seemingly tapping into the cultural zeitgeist, is somewhat of a mystery. One can imagine that its mindless escapism was a welcome relief from the daily bombardment of news reports from Iraq and Afghanistan. Unfortunately for viewers, the first was something of a one off engagement, as both sequels, last year's Dead Man's Chest and this summer's At World's End, are needlessly overblown duds, stripped of much of the first's humor and entertainment. At World's End, directed by Gore Verbinski, is a particular mess, a wandering overlong installment that left me exhausted and checking my watch.

First off, just to get it out of the way, Depp is still great; Knightley is still a beauty as are the special effects. Those three elements work wonderfully and are the highlights of the film. Keeping with his work in the first two films, Depp continues to completely embody Captain Jack Sparrow, throwing his whole body and soul into a demented and charismatic performance that is some of the finest acting jobs in any blockbuster ever. It is rare to see an actor so wholeheartedly embrace his/her character while dealing with a huge budget film but Depp is a rare talent. His subtle motions and ticks are as effective as ever, adding a humanity and humor to his characters actions. Sparrow isn't necessarily the best drawn or best developed character in film but Depp extracts as much as he physically can from the script, making the best of it and the results continue to be wonderful. As time goes on, these films will become known for two reasons: their box office clout and Depp's phenomenal work.



While Knightley never reaches the twisted heights of Depp, her performance is one of an obvious star coming into her own. She rules the screen with a undeniable charisma, adding a vitality to each of her scenes. Like Depp's Sparrow, her character, Elizabeth Swann, is a one dimensional cut out that she makes the best of, allowing her star power to take hold. She is a rarity today, a classical beauty that has acting talent and charisma, harkening back to the days of the studio era where women like Lake and Hayworth rode a similar blend to box office gold and Hollywood legend.


Visually, the film is everything one can hope for from a blockbuster, a delicious feast crammed with gorgeous CGI. It is no wonder that the team behind the franchise's special effects were awarded with an Oscar for their troubles, as their work is flawless, down to the smallest details. The film's villain, Davy Jones, a man/squid hybrid, played by ever-wonderful Bill Nighy, is brought to life by the film's CGI with each gill and tentacle moving independently from the other. The climatic battle, despite the lengthy, unneeded build up and uneven pacing, is another highlight with massive ships filling the screen while mayhem ensues around them.


All that being said, the film is a complete bore and its running time of 2 hours and 48 minutes is unbearably unnecessary. There is nothing in the narrative that demands this type of length. It seems like Bruckheimer and Verbinski were trying to force an epic feel out of a story that isn't even remotely close to actually being epic. Rather by including as many double dealings and back stabbings as possible, the film is an incoherent mess, with the story wandering to and fro instead of being a streamlined shot of action and comedy. While even the first film was long as 2 hours and 20 minutes, there is no excuse for a nearly 3 hour run time for the final installment. It isn't until the cameo appearance of Keith Richards, almost 2 hours in, that the film picks up speed (and even this universally hyped moment is disappointing). While there are some decent action scenes, there could have been a solid hour hacked off of the film without losing a single important piece of narrative.

For every Depp, Knightley and Nighy, there is an Orlando Bloom, who may be the most perplexing star in the world today. If you look at his work since 2001's Fellowship of the Ring, his film's possess a gross of over 2 billion dollars, which, unless I'm mistaken, unmatched by any other star in recent memory. Granted he has worked in primarily ensemble casts but his appeal is a mystery to me. He is a pretty face but doesn't possess much actual talent unlike say, someone like Jake Gyllenhaal, another young attractive star. His performance in At World's End is wooden and a perfect example of a big budget actor coasting through a role. The one film in which he has a substantial lead in which he is required to carry the film was Elizabethtown, Cameron Crowe's worst film by any criteria. Much of that film's failure is a direct result of Bloom's inability to play off a likable and talented female foil, Kirsten Dunst. As an action star, Bloom works well but when the film relies on him for romantic moments with Knightley, it suffers. Where it is obvious that Knightley can work with romantic material (see: Love Actually, Pride and Prejudice), Bloom's ability to do so is in doubt and POTC: AWE does nothing to clarify the situation.


It is unfortunate that the trilogy's creators were unable to continue with the success of the first film in any way other than box office earnings. While the series is an obvious hit, providing Disney with its first legitimate franchise in a while, I imagine that the final two films will quickly sail from the public's imagination. Much like the Wachowski's Matrix trilogy, the filmmakers would have been better off stopping with their one, first cinematic triumph. Rather they end up dragging that accomplishment down with two overblown, disappointing sequels that do nothing but hurt the franchise's chances as being remembered as anything but a money maker, a studio cash in, instead of the classics they could been. The summer's first (not entirely unexpected) disappointment.

**

Spider-Man 3: Review

It was with mixed feelings that I entered into Spider-Man 3. Although I thoroughly enjoyed the first and loved the comics growing up, the second, given all its critical acclaim, was nothing less than a massive disappointment, all hokum and cheesiness; in other words, all the childish parts of comics. Then, when the critics got a hold of S3, the results were not pretty, with many declaring it the worst in the series. Therefore, the great joy that I experienced from the first frame to the last was a complete shock, albeit a welcome one. While I'm not quite ready to declare it the best of the series, S3 is a wild thrill ride, jam packed with villains and eye popping set pieces, as well as a good heart and sense of humor.

In the third installment, our favorite neighborhood webslinger returns, once again played by Tobey Maguire, and as the film opens, the city is abuzz with Spider infatuation. Gone are the days of doubt about the pajama clad hero's intentions, instead replaced by an overwhelming approval rating that George W. Bush would die for. However, the good times quickly vanish as, count 'em, three villains storm onto the scene, each ready to squash the pesky spider from the streets. Those villains, played by James Franco, Thomas Haden Church and Topher Grace, are remarkably well drawn and fairly interesting, given the extreme restrictions of their roles. Franco, who appeared in the first two films, is the most fully fleshed out due to his previous involvement in the series but Church's Sandman is a wonderfully three dimensional creation, built on contradictions and the ever continuing quest for redemption. Like the best of Marvel's Super-Villains, the Sandman is hardly a demented, twisted criminal but rather a conflicted soul determined to help his family in whatever way he can regardless of legality. Unlike a villain such as Lex Luthor, Superman's long time nemesis, these characters are driven by human emotions.


On the flip side, Maguire's Peter Parker is a walking conflict, filled with teenage angst and, when his suit gets infected by an alien symbiote (bear with me), swagger, the latter being portrayed with a comedic glee that is more readily apparent in this chapter than any previous one. In fact, it is the comic touch that ends up saving the film from the problems of the second installment, which dished out the angst without any sort of humor. One scene, in particular, when Parker does his best Tony Manero and struts down the street, checking out the ladies in an unabashed manner. The results are surprisingly amusing as even though the audience can recognize the silly, even juvenile manner of the scene, it is a welcome relief to the other aspects of the film. It is a light hearted moment in a summer blockbuster, something that is entirely too rare in a season that takes itself too seriously with each passing year.

Throughout the film, Sam Raimi solidifies himself as an efficient and expert filmmaker, equally able to craft nail biting action sequences as well as quiet scenes of dialogue. While the Spider-Man trilogy (for now) doesn't quite reach the mayhem and insanity of his Evil Dead series, it makes up for it with a hefty dose of heart. One can easily see that Raimi has a great deal of respect for the material, holding Lee and Ditko's character in high regard. Each frame is carefully crafted and while it lacks the refinement of an art house film, there are enough whiz bang moments for the hardened cinephiles to gawk at. The film really takes off in its set pieces, all of which are among the trilogy's best. These sequences are perfectly paced, building and climaxing at the right moments with no particular one outstaying its welcome. In terms of pure popcorn fun, S3 might not be topped all summer.


All things considered, I'm quite frankly surprised that this film was so widely dismissed by critics. Sure it runs almost 2 hours and 22 minutes and features a complex and busy storyline but in comparison to a film like Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End, the film moves quickly and smoothly. Where as Pirates seems to be struggling to fill its completely unnecessary run time, S3's story warrants the film's length. Remarkably, when I left the theatre, I felt invigorated, not exhausted and would have gladly sat through another film to make it a summertime double feature. While there is talk of making more installments of the franchise, if Raimi, Maguire and Dunst decided to walk away right now, I would be perfectly content as the film's conclusion brings closure to a number of storylines that have continued over the larger trilogy's story arc. After watching S3, I was reminded how enjoyable the first film was and how much the second disappointed me. Luckily, Raimi was able to steady the ship and produce an entertaining, exciting blockbuster, two attributes that many films forget are vital to their success.

****

28 Weeks Later: Review


When 28 Days Later was released in 2002, Danny Boyle unleashed a terrifying vision onto the world of a barren London that stood as the finest achievement in pure horror since Stanley Kubrick's 1981 masterpiece, The Shining. Startling in its creation of a post apocalyptic England, 28 Days was a highly entertaining yet ultimately disturbing look at the nature of human violence that had enough thrills to satisfy the everyday horror fan but enough brains to appeal to more thoughtful audiences. Knowing this, it was with great apprehension that I heard it would be receiving a sequel, cleverly named 28 Weeks Later, when it seemed like a film that would best stand on its own, without a franchise weighing down its thoughtful scares. Luckily for myself, 28 Weeks ably lives up to its predecessor and while it doesn't quite surpass Boyle's classic, it should rightfully claim its place as a modern day Aliens, that is, a more amped up sequel that comes dangerously close to equaling its masterful source.

That being said, the first two entries into what will undoubtedly become a full on franchise, are wildly different films in tone and execution much like Alien and Aliens were. When placed side by side, 28 Days Later reveals itself to be the more thoughtful and ultimately more rewarding experience while 28 Weeks Later is the more visceral counterpart that focuses more on sheer terror than theme. Thankfully, Weeks doesn't entirely forgo the brains of the operation and contains a sharp and clever wit that pervades the numerous memorable set pieces sprinkled throughout the narrative's running time. And my oh my, what set pieces these are as Juan Carlos Fresnadillo, in his English feature debut, cooks up a tension in each segment that is palpable. It is disappointing that the film's climax is a bit cliché and predictable but by that point, the first hour and 20 minutes have been so entertaining that one does not feel let down. The closing frames of the film are as chilling a set up for another installment as I can remember and it is with an eager anticipation that I await its inevitable release, given Weeks’ strong performance at the B.O.

Fresnadillo, a relative newcomer, displays a ferocious gift for thrills and his camera plays an active observer, quickly moving around the action in a frenetic and at times disorientating pace. Rather than feeling like a trite regurgitation of MTV visuals and editing, in Fresnadillo's hands, this technique seems well fit for the action on screen, adding to the tension and ferocity of the zombie attacks rather than taking away from them. In the more deliberately paced moments of the film, he wisely reigns in his virtuoso camera moves in favor for more static shots, many taken from oblique angles, creating a skewed perception of the film's events. Even the calm moments carry an almost unbearable intensity and from start to finish, the film is a roller coaster ride that is more of a true zombie horror film than 28 Days Later, which so brilliantly mixed existential musings with sheer terror.

The cast here does well with the material, more often sinking their teeth into each other than any significant character conflicts but all in all, it works. They all seem to realize that the film does not need forceful, overwhelming performances and each contribute a restrained, quiet intensity into the mix. Robert Carlyle is as reliable as ever and after seeing him in more animated performances, it is interesting to see him play a grieving and conflicted father who barely escapes an opening attack in hair raising fashion. That sequence features one of the great shots of the film as Carlyle runs for his life through the English countryside as the camera swoops around to show the hills alive with sprinting fiends, coming ever close to our newly introduced protagonist. The sequence serves to set the mood of the film, that of no mercy, and it is that mood that pervades throughout. At its harshest and most detached moments, of deathly quiet aerial shots of the abandoned streets of London, the film possesses the same smoldering intensity that was present in Days and which I feared would be toned down in the sequel. In fact, for those who enjoyed those moments from Boyle's installment, will find a great deal to admire here with most of the film taking place on the urban wasteland of London.

Weeks is a significantly darker film than Days, which seemed to possess a humanism that kept the film from feeling downright depressing. In Weeks, that is eschewed for an economical storytelling in which characters are introduced and quickly taken care of. As the count rises, the film sinks into darker depths than Days did. Combined with the final frames, the film is an electrifying and altogether exhausting bout of terror that is a must see for any fans of the original (or really horror in general). I would have never believed this following statement if you had said it to me in early April but the 28 series is well on its way to equaling Romero's Night, Dawn, Day, Land of the Dead series as the new watermark in horror filmmaking. Weeks more than carries the weight of the series, putting forth an entertaining, scary good time that starts the summer off with a bang. Come the end of August, there is a good chance that it might be standing on the top of a heap of blockbusters, in a position similar to 28 Days Later, as the very best film of the hottest months of the year.

****