November 16: Looper (2013--Rian Johnson)

★★★

Looper is the little sci-fi movie I’ve been wanting to see all year.  It doesn’t have grandiose ambition but instead takes a single conceit and works it into a clever, engaging two-hour cinema experience that teaseses the sci-fi-minded to daydream what-ifs. 

The strength here is Rian Johnson’s screenplay, as artful and precise as a music box.  In the future, if a criminal guy does't like someone, they send that person back in time, where execution awaits at the hands of a Looper, a killer who gone back in time to do this work.  However, Loopers must eventually kill their older selves, and sometimes this rule causes problems.  When Young Seth refuses to kill Old Seth, gang members capture the younger boy and carve an address into his arm which then shows up as a scar on the arm of the Old Seth, summoning the older man to his death.  It’s a grim scene as Old Seth experiences broken bones and missing appendages as he tries to get to the address, but it’s perfectly part of the time travel logic of Johnson’s music box.  The present affects the future, so when Old Joe starts to lose a clear idea of his (future) wife, an astute viewer will pick that up as foreshadowing about something that will happen in the future.

In addition to the time travel conceit that Johnson manages so adroitly, Looper putters right along with suspense from several sources.  What’s the gang going to do to the two Joes?  Will Old Joe be able to save his wife….and the same question: Will he kill the Rainmaker before the latter becomes a crime monster of the future?  And since we’ve already seen that the present affects the future, what will the future look like after Young and Old Joe have had their climatic encounter?  All these narrative questions keep you plugged into this fun, smart sci-fi movie.

Looper isn’t deep, intellectual sci-fi, but it’s smart and well-crafted.  And it even manages character development and passing cinematography along the way.  This is a worthwhile film to catch on a day when you feel like a ration of cinematic precision.

November 15: Oblivion (2013 -- Joseph Kosinski)

★★★

Bad notices aside, I enjoyed this film.  Visuals count, and there’s a lot of pleasure to be had from soaking up what’s on the screen.  From the clean look of the sky home where Jack and Vika live to NYC ruins like the public library and the Empire State Building, there’s most always something worth looking at in Oblivion.  Desolate scenes are empty, and panoramas have expanse, even when there’s a monster of a mechanism looming far away.  The movie also has an engaging tone of Romantic nostalgia for a lost civilization, similar to that in WALL-E, with Jack Harper as the last man on earth, left to maintain a few machines, sift through damaged artifacts of the lost culture, and engage his fantasies of what life must have been like.  All this makes for a good sci-fi movie, and if there’s the occasional Star Wars-inspired chase through a narrow canyon or struggle with a sophisticated version of Hal, so much the better.

There’s even enough suspense to hold our attention as we go through a series of surprises.  We discover, for example, that our Moon-inspired maintenance man has an little refuge in an area of rich greenery, and soon afterwards, we face the mystery of why the Scavs want to capture Jack rather than eliminate him in the library scene.  And before we linger on that point too long, a signal mysteriously comes from the Empire State ruins, a ship with a human crew lands, drones attack the crew, and Jack and a new character, Julia, end up with the Scavs.  The story continues to move quickly all the way through the big clone reveal, another salute to Moon, and on to the counter-attack against the Tet.  I enjoyed the ongoing narrative springs through the film.

Oblivion even gives us something of a sci-fi thematic question in the second part of the film: What does identity consist of?  In all the film’s loss and nostalgia, we discover that Jack 49 looks exactly like his clone, Jack 52, so 52 would logically have the same memories as 49;  however, memory scrub aside, it’s by no means clear that they share the dreams of their wife, Julia, or that both have their wilderness homestead.  With this same-but-different twist, the plot gets a little unstable.  And what’s more, Oblivion goes on to propose that Jack 49 can die while destroying the Tet – thus widowing his wife – but that Jack 52 can then replace 49 as the husband back on earth.  It’s a classic sci-fi conundrum to ponder if a bit creaky.

Oblivion offers some sci-fi satisfaction to fans of the genre, and there are good images and some narrative energy.  It’s not a bad way to spend a couple of hours in front of the screen.

November 14: Ender's game (2013 -- Gavin Hood)

★★★

I might have enjoyed Ender's Game more if it had had less money.  This is a film that feels like it should be smaller because of in the way it focuses on its simple ideas.  Ender's brother has failed at military college because he is too prone to violence, and his sister has likewise been bounced out because she is too empathetic.  Ender himself succeeds there, though, because he has a good balance of the two.  Ender's Game tells us that one should have martial prowess, but it’s important to understand the enemy first to be sure of the threat before attacking.  And in fact, when the militarist Colonel Graff finally gains the upper hand over the empathetic Major Anderson and uses Ender to achieve his battle aims, the teenage commander is appalled at Colonel’s manipulation and, gaining an insight into the Formics, sets about saving the species he was trained to destroy.  It’s this the kind of neatness of idea that makes Ender's Game have the feel of Gattica or Moon while simultaneously looking like a mega-EFX,  large cast star-vehicle.  It could have pulled off the thinness of its ideas if it had been less inflated.

Unfortunately, this is a big movie, and its scale magnifies problems we might’ve forgiven in a smaller film.  In Ender's Game fails to engage the sympathies of the audience.  The kids are oddly off-putting as they shout Marine chants, stand at attention and march together; adolescents going through adult motions don’t convince us that the kids have depth.  And nor does the script.  The film's contrived tableaus of school bullying and bf/gf play lack emotional depth and leave us as observers noting information.  It’s hard to engage the world of Ender’s Game sympathetically because the characters are as simple as the ideas.
addition to its neat polarities and the simple outcome of its story,

Ender’s Game ultimately provides us dedicated sci-fi fans with what we enjoy: some accessible ideas and lots of special effects.  It’s fun on screen.  However, you leave this film more dazzled by its look than moved by its characters and insight.

November 12: Captain Phillips (2013 -- Paul Greengrass)

★★★

Greengrass has created a perfectly good action thriller with Captain Phillips, a based-on-fact flic that’s not unlike a Jason Bourne movie.  There’s suspense galore as the crew hides in the mess locker and the engine room, as the pirates confront the everyman Captain on the bridge, and as the hijackers, Phillips in tow, face off against the United States Navy from their lifeboat. The performances by the pirate actors add to the intensity with the desperation in the characters’ backgrounds and their frustratingly limited language ability.  Hanks, too, contributes to the suspense when his even-keeled Captain finally starts to crack towards the end of the film.

And Greengrass’ signature wobbly camera gives a sense of immediacy to the action unfolding in front of us. 
Whether bouncing in the pirates’ boat or glancing around the bridge frantically, the view through the camera communicates at least a bit of a sense of participating in the drama.  The stakes also inexorably build from the small-scale, casual intimacy in the car as Andrea Phillips accompanies her husband to the airport, to the huge freighter that Phillips captains, and then to the image of the small lifeboat dwarfed by two warships and an aircraft carrier.  Importance increasingly bears down on the characters visually as the suspense builds in the film.

But for all the directing chops and acting technique in Captain Phillips, the movie doesn't quite make it past being a fleeting, cinematic thrill.  There is creaky exposition as the mate shows a map and explains that the Maersk Alabama will be quite close to the Somali coast; likewise, the SEAL leader has to articulate that he needs three simultaneously clear shots to end the standoff.  There is also an effort to elevate Captain Phillips from being a typical action film to being one with something to say about the First World/Third World struggle of today, but the mentions of the subject feel tacked on to the film’s main interest in suspense.  We see the desperate situation of Muse in his Somali village, and we hear his protestations that he has no options but to continue the hijacking.  There’s the concern that the First World Captain evinces for the Third World teenaged hijacker, who is approximate the same age as his own First World son in Vermont.  But none of these elements manage to inform the overall effect of Captain Phillips, perhaps because Greengrass is so good at action that such thematic gestures fall short. 

At the end of Captain Phillips, we’re more left more wanting to take a deep breath of relief than think about the collisions of economic disparity in today’s global economy.  And there’s certainly a place for such cinematic fun at the movies.  It's just that, having seen what Greengrass can do, I found myself wishing he had hit closer to his achievement in United 93 than his work in The Green Zone.

November 9: FILMS FOR OLD MEN

This is an interesting film theme that doesn't get lots of attention.  However, when a director tackles this topic seriously, some surprisingly good films result.  Here's my list so far.

1. Friends of Eddie Coyle
2. The Leopard
3. The Music Room
4. Wild Strawberries
5. The Misfits
6. Rififi
7. The Cowboys

My next question: I know the issues that men face as they age, and these movies all address them to some extent.  But what are some of the issues facing women as they age?  And what films address those?  Input welcome.

November 4: Greek Pete (2009 -- Andrew Haigh)

★

I was interested in this first feature by Andrew Haigh, and I wasn’t disappointed to see some of his Weekend style already under development here.  There’s the intimacy in Haigh’s style that I liked so much in Weekend, and after watching Greek Pete, I was surprised I hadn’t recognized the documentary roots of that approach in the later fictional film.  And the specificity I liked so much in Weekend is amply on display here, too.  Life in Greek Pete is a series of apartments inhabited by guys in the early 20s with the furnishings and decor you’d expect in an apartment block….just as in Weekend.  And like in Weekend, the cinematography consists of frequent, intimate close-ups and a soundtrack of voices talking over each other or speaking in the background while we’re watching another face.  There are even forays into local, specific social locations.

However, in contrast to Weekend, Greek Pete fails as a film, and that largely because of its main character.  Pete is simply not an interesting documentary subject.  We get to know him well through the camera, but Pete is just an immature, somewhat shallow 24-year-old who has a big cock and isn’t inhibited.  He may talk about missing his family during holidays and about saving money so he can buy his own house, but such statements have the heft of something a teenager might say.  There’s not much wisdom or investment in these pro forma musings.  Likewise, his relationship with his boyfriend doesn’t show much depth.  They have sex, they play at staged bathtub scenes, but we see little intimacy through this documentary camera, either physical or emotional.  And at this point in time, drug use and kinky sex scenes are almost to be expected in a film about a male rent boy, so those scenes aren't insightful or original either.

Greek Pete is a surprisingly uninteresting film by the maker of later, excellent film.  The contrast of the two is a good lesson in how hard it is to make a good documentary, even for directors who are talented at fictional films.

November 3: Weekend (2011 -- Andrew Haigh)

★★★★★

This is a wonderful little movie that brings the specificity and honesty that small film seems to be able to muster more easily than our summer blockbusters.  It’s billed as a romance and has a little the feel of Brief Encounter or Before Sunrise, but Weekend’s romance is mostly the catalyst for change that the two well-wrought characters experience.  It’s a unique, touching and truthful portrayal.

The center of the film is the characters, and Haigh develops them with a compelling specificity.  Russell is out but not open about himself with those around him, and he compartmentalizes his various experiences and feelings as a way of fitting in.  He’s uncomfortable with public expressions of male affection since that could result in social rejection, and he always hides the details of his gay experience from his straight best friend who, we find out, actually wants his friend to be more honest with him.  Haigh expresses Russell’s longing to connect in other details, too.  Russell furnishes his apartment with pre-owned items, making up stories about the connection people might’ve had to his tea cup, and the only space Russell is completely honest is when he’s writing alone on his laptop.  When we learn the details of Russell’s background, we can better understand his desire for connection and difficulty in connecting—Russell grew up as a state ward.

The garrulous Glen, on the other hand, maintains his distance from people by throwing up a big, extroverted wall of talk and posturing.  Right after his first night with Russell, he begins to externalize the experience by recording Russell’s impressions of the night for an art project.  Glen’s angry, in-your-face activism lets him politicize and abstract the pain we later learn he feels; details like his shouting into a courtyard fourteen stories below him show the intensity of his feeling if not the real object.  At his going away party, Glen is loud with his friends but not warm, and Russell learns they don’t feel they know Glen well.  Weekend develops both characters with an exceptional amount of real, specific detail.

The film uses the love story between the two men to motivate their respective character changes, and it’s the specific details here, too, that mark their changing relationship.  Russell is open with Glen from the beginning, but as Glen leaves Saturday morning, Russell thinks the encounter is just another entry on his laptop.  However, Russell has been feeling increasingly isolated – which we see in details like the opening scene with his friends and in the lunch scene with his friends – and after a day of life-guarding and watching life at the pool from the outside, he texts Glen.  Glen shows up, a significant gesture for the closed character, and the two spend a day together.  As Glen leaves later, he makes an move outside himself and invites Russell to his going away party; Glen sliding a hoodie over his head is an external expression of how vulnerable the invitation is making him feel.  As Weekend progresses, the more they talk with each other, the more the two men reveal and the more their love develops.  By the end of the film, Russell has opened enough to trust his straight friend Jamie with the details of what’s been going on in his life, and Russell opens up enough to try to catch Glen at the station.  For his part, Glen has opened up enough to break down in tears at Russell’s gesture, and Russell is open enough to kiss him in public.  As a last detail to mark Glen’s change, he gives Russell the tape he made on the first morning they awoke, honoring their relationship by not having played it for anyone and not keeping it.  It’s a touching detail.

And for all the engagement with the characters that Weekend creates, the film’s visuals are also a big part of
what draws us into the movie and keeps us there.  The local specifics make this film real.  There are trips on public transportation, a trip to a fair, and visits to locations like the pool and apartment complex that give the film so much of its authenticity.  While real, these same locations become cinematic expressions in the camera of Ula Pontikos.  The natatorium is dressed out in cinematic primary colors, and the buildings of Russell’s apartment block have a gray uniformity that echoes the lives of Russell and Glen.  As their love grows, an external building shot shows a light in Russell’s apartment alone, a metaphor for their spot of life in the complex of gray buildings.  Pontikos also uses artificial light to good effect in exteriors, especially in the fun, garish shots of the fair and an Edward Hopper-esque gas station.

The cinematography and editing also create great intimacy.  Pontikos is comfortable in extreme close-ups of the two leads, and we respond to the actors as real people, complete with pimples and messy hair.  Narrow depth of field, too, adds to the sense of intimacy and engages our eye in the film as our gaze moves from the strip of face that is in focus to the rest of the image that isn’t.  And Pontikos indulges our cinematic voyeurism as we scan the bodies of the actors, coming to know them as only their most intimate acquaintances would.  Haigh has said that he wanted a gay male or a female as a cinematographer so the camera might be more intimate with the male actors.  And while the cinematography is breaching the distance between us and the characters, encouraging us to connect with them, the direction is providing great, long takes that have the span of real conversation.  The cinematic here lends even more authenticity to the characters and their movement.

Weekend even has a little of the meta- in it.  Early on, Glen says that gay art will never be popular because the majority straight world isn’t interested in gay life or, especially, gay love.  It’s not hard to imagine Haigh behind that script line, wittily commenting on the barriers to a wide reception his Weekend will face.

And more’s the pity that Haigh was right.  Too few people heard about Weekend and even fewer saw it.  But with its specificity of characters, specificity of locale and even specificity of gayness, Weekend is a universal portrayal of two people trying to overcoming their social isolation through love.  It’s a story the movies have been telling for a long time if with a different vocabulary.