February 23: The Artist and the Model/El artista y la modelo (2012 -- Fernando Trueba)

★★★★

February 22: Terraferma (2012 -- Emanuele Crialese)

★★★

Terraferma is a sweet film that wears its heart on its sleeve.  Illegal immigrant boats are turning up in the seas off a Sicilian island, Linosa, and the locals are trapped between their core, humanistic values of respect for any life and those of the nation, which doesn't want to welcome the illegals any way.  The state, in the form of the police, persecutes Filippo and his grandfather Ernesto for plucking nearly-dead refugees from the sea, among them a pregnant woman near delivery.  The woman has her child at Filippo’s house shortly after she’s rescued and eventually wins over Filippo’s mother, the pragmatic sceptic Giulietta.  These circumstances sum up the ethics of the film as Terraferma stacks the deck against the state in an almost melodramatic way.

Director Emanuele Crialese also gets some mileage out of the tacky tourism that many in Linosa seem bent on selling their hearts to.  Filippo’s uncle wants to pretend the refugees don’t exist so he can continue to make money by taking drunken tourist parties out on his boat so they can have a good time.  One effective device in the film contrasts his boat crammed with tourists waving in celebration of music with a similar shot of refugees waiving from their overcrowded raft.  Other shots contrast the spreading of a fishing net from an underwater angle with an underwater angle shot of drunk tourists diving into the water.  It’s all clear if a little obvious.

The ethical examination in the film centers on Fillipo.  This cute, unsophisticated, 20-year-old accepts his grandfather’s humanism until their ship is confiscated by the police because they had pulled struggling refugees out of the sea.  The youth then decides to follow the law rather than his personal code and, in one of the most effective scenes of the film, he beats away a refugee group that tries to cling to his small boat, and motors off into the night.  The next day at the beach, he sees the horror of the refugees’ suffering and death as they wash up on the beach.  Realizing that his actions have contributed to this pain, Filippo re-embraces his humanism and helps the Ethiopian woman and her children off the island and on to Italy.  While the film invites us to follow Filippo’s character arc as the center of the questions at play in Terraferma, the wholesome actor at this center, Filippo Pucillo, unfortunately can’t quite engage us.  We don’t see nuance in this performance, and we don’t have a sense for the flow of the stages of his moral evolution as he moves through them.  A professional actor might have been able to carry us through all the forces at play in Filippo’s life and thus sold the pounding message in the film, but Pucillo isn’t able to do this.

Ultimately, Terraferma feels heavy-handed.  Well-intentioned, but heavy-handed.  The film offers some nice cinematic moments and has some merit because of these, but it could have been a much more effective movie.

February 20: Skyfall (2012 -- Sam Mendes)

★★★★★

After the rebooted Bond franchise took a bad detour with  Quantum of Solace, Sam Mendes brings it firmly back into place with Skyfall.  This film is a sure return to what made Casino Royale so effective: updating and intensifying the classic elements of Bond while giving us a central character that’s more than a cliché.

Mendes brings an complex double track to Skyfall.  On the thematic level, we start with a Bond who is tired and outdated.  Photographed by Roger Deakins, Daniel Craig's face shows us an aging spy who is scruffy, worn and wrinkled, a look emphasized by frequent low-key lighting.  And more than appearing spent, the character feels tired and has much less agility and strength than a virile Bond would.  Skyfall follows this Bond as he becomes reinvigorated by the challenges that come his way until, by the time he’s a captive of Silva, his white stubble is gone and high-key light has eased his wrinkles.  Bond’s arc in this film is from tired and worn to competent and effective.  That issue of datedness is the central concern of the film.  Bond and Q parry about the old vs the new, Moneypenny teases about age, and M battles her ministerial supervision over whether old-style, flesh-and-blood spies are even needed anymore.   Skyfall questions the past ways of doing things and finds it still has a very important role today.

And while the plot and characters are developing this them of old vs new, on another level entirely, Mendes is giving us a film that is renewing the old Bond conventions and showing how they work in our contemporary moment.  Fifty years old, these conventions can still touch us today if updated.  Moneypenny is no longer just a secretary but also a field agent who proves her worth to Bond, and she isn’t white.  Q is a skinny computer nerd instead of a middle-aged engineer, and M is an older woman.  In addition to these updates, Agent 007 himself is not a flat caricature in this film but has psychology, feelings and vulnerabilities; he even hints that his vaunted heterosexuality might not be consistent.  And the indomitable Bond twice experiences defeat in Skyfall, first in failing to get the computer drive and dying while trying, and the second time in failing at his ultimate goal, to protect M.  Mendes effectively melds theme, character and genre into a tight-knit whole in this Bond outing.

Other elements of Skyfall also bring this Bond into our moment.  The style and imagery of the opening credits use recognizable Bond imagery, but in Skyfall, they creatively segue into the action and even become part of the narrative.  Bond is shot and falls into a river in the film's opening sequence, and the credits end that sequence and continue with images of water and death.  Also, Adele’s strong, sleek theme song, “Skyfall,” recalls Shirley Bassey’s Goldfinger theme, but Adele’s arrangement, melody and rhythm are all 2012.  And Deacon’s cinematography is eye-grabbing and profoundly contemporary.  His nighttime helicopter shots weave among illuminated Shanghai towers, and an assassination scene and ensuing struggle are boldly set on the upper floors of a skyscraper with a dark foreground against a garish video display of jellyfish swimming.  And this huge space is compressed when the glass walls break and Bond and Severine stare at each other across the few meters of space between the buildings.   Deakins also uses mist and fog effectively, as when Bond comes into Severin’s shower and we see them through condensation on the glass.  Deakins also has Bond frequently assume a feet-apart posture facing away from the camera and into some future challenge off into the frame.  This cinematographer brings  a thoroughly modern look to Skyfall.

At the 50-year mark of the Bond franchise, Mendes brings us a film about renewal of a man and renewal of a franchise.  And he does both while talking about renewal.  Skyfall is a sophisticated, self-reflexive use of the 007 film language, and it brings viewer pleasure back into the films is wonderful, contemporary way.  With so many new characters established and old ones gone, Mendes leave 007 with a bright, original future.

February 18: Quantum of Solace (2008 -- Marc Forster)

★★

Extending Casino Royale’s update of the Bond formula, Quantum of Solace provides contemporary takes on elements like the beauty of its actors, the athleticism of Bond, and the internationalism of the franchise.  It also avoids the easy parody that earlier Bond films lapsed into, the same way that Casino Royale did.

But Quantum embraces some of the other Bond elements a little too fervently.  Bond films have action, and lots of it, but Quantum is one extreme action sequence after another.  It starts with an intense car chase sequence that segues into an extended on-foot pursuit in Siena across clay tile roofs and into a restoration project, whose scaffolding echoes that of the opening of Casino Royale.  Shortly after this chase, we’re launched into yet another extended action pursuit, this time in boats in Haiti.  Then there’s a long fight sequence at an opera, a dogfight between a large vintage plane and some faster fighters, and the final fight at the hotel in the Atacama Desert.  Thrilling as all these are individually, so much chasing ultimately has a numbing effect since we get used to the breakneck pace, like we do in any action movie.  The more successful Casino Royale turns to action sequences more judiciously and, at the same time, it uses these sequences to move the plot and character development forward rather than stopping the story for an action pause.  Bond takes real hits in the action sequences of both films, showing us a modern Bond who lacks the invulnerability of the earlier on, but while Casino Royale gives us a Bond who becomes more human or shows us aspects of his character like his growing love, the action Bond of Quantum is something of a punching bag.  He hurts, but he takes his punches and goes on with little to no character development.

Which points to another problem with Solace—this Bond character is flat and uninteresting, and he shows very little growth through the film. He starts as a man who has been deeply hurt, and Solace takes him through a series of action scenes that lead him to his revenge.  But there’s no change in his character through the film, and he doesn't seem to learn or to suffer.  Director Marc Forester has also included a parallel character who is also motivated by revenge, Camille Montes, but  he then makes nothing out of the pairing. Both characters want revenge, both characters get revenge, and neither seems to have an arc of development through the film.  Ultimately, the revenge theme seems clever and perhaps gratuitous since it does't lead to any particular outcome.  Park Chan-wook gets far more from his Vengeance Trilogy.

Some elements of Solace please.  Many stunts are wonderful, like the leaps  from roof-to-roof Siena and the parachuting into the desert after the airplane duel.  And there’s great intercutting in some action sequences as that between the on-stage Tosca performance and the back-stage fight.  The finale action sequence also effectively cuts between Bond’s fight in one part of the hotel and Camille’s in another part.  But despite all the high-quality action and editing in this Bond installment, it's missing the human Bond that makes Casino Royale so successful.  And the result is a collection of fun action scenes that don’t have much to say.

February 16: Casino Royale (2006 -- Martin Campbell)

★★★★

Martin Campbell has something of a spotty directing record, but if you want to reboot a franchise like this one, Casino Royale establishes him as a go-to guy.  By the second James Bond film, To Russia with Love, Bond films were already ossified into a formula: an athletic, handsome, womanizing 007 who isn’t afraid to work outside established procedures; beautiful women who are genuine love interests or femme fatales; big action sequences; international settings; and outrageous technology.  And there’s the "stirred, not shaken" martini and “Bond.  James Bond.”  And as soon as the formula was set, the films turned to parody and clever variation to draw their crowds.

The achievement here is that Campbell manages to follow the recipe perfectly but still keep us in the film.  Daniel Craig is strikingly handsome and athletic, and he’s lit and dressed in clothing throughout to set off his body.  The women he encounters are smoky beauties with large eyes and beautiful clothes.  Campbell’s action sequences are riveting, too.  The opening chase scene involves a suspect running through African streets and then being pursued through a construction site with leaps and balancing that maintain suspense; it concludes in compound with Bond and his bad guy facing a small army.  It’s vintage Bond, but amped up beyond showmanship to genuine engagement.  Shortly later, there's a pursuit though Miami airport and near the end, a shootout in a sinking Venetian palace--all great action sequences.  And as Bond speeds though various international locales, from Madagascar to London to Miami to the Czech Republic to Venice, he’s got his Aston Martin, which happily includes a defibrillator. 

But more important to the success here than renewing the Bond formula is Campbell’s decision to give us the elements straight, without irony.  Craig’s Bond is completely invested the action he’s involved in and rarely delivers a line of dialog with self-conscious parody.  Craig shows us a vulnerable Bond from the beginning of the film as we watch his first kills and see him banged and scarred from the initial chase sequence.  And Craig takes us into Bond, too, feeling his anxiety at the card game and his growing love for Vesper Lynd.  As the film approaches its conclusion, we feel real, personal stakes for 007 in a way that very few Bond films have been able to make us feel.  The Bond here has a sincerity and depth that we've hardly seen since Dr. No, and this engaging authenticity inspires life in a film recipe that was tired. 

Casino Royale brings together an outstanding directorial performance from Campbell and an exceptional performance from Craig to create one of the best films of the franchise.  

February 6: Samson and Delilah (1949 -- Cecil B. DeMille)

★★

This movie should be as good as The Ten Commandments.  DeMille worked with many of the same elements here that he used in the later film.  The visually arresting Samson and Delilah is chock full of ornate sets, lavish costumes and sexy skin, just as Ten Commandments was, and  here, too, these are all captured in rich Technicolor.  Samson and Delilah also features crowds of extras that create great scenes of action spectacle.  Samson defeats the entire Philistine army with jawbone of an ass, and blinded in the temple courtyard later, he’s heckled by colorful crowds and baited by a group of lively dwarves.  The destruction of the Dagon Temple is a sequence of great spectacle, and Samson’s fight with the lion is one of great action.  DeMille even has a similar love triangle in the two films.  The hero in both loves a pious woman and a courtly vixen, and this latter undermines the hero because of her conflicted love/hate feelings about him.  There’s a large overlap between the two films.

But Samson and Delilah pales in comparison to Ten Commandments, and this is largely due to the performance of Victor Mature as the eponymous lead.  Mature has no rapport with the camera or the audience, and he brings no integration of Samson’s various aspects to the character.  Sanson is sometimes cocky and cavalier, tossing off his mother’s warnings, fighting the lion with his bare hands rather than a spear, or talking confidently with Saul as they watch the approach of the rich Philistine.  These scenes have no shade of reverence in them whatsoever, but we soon see the strongman praying earnestly at the grinding wheel and acting responsibly by surrendering to the Philistines.  More damaging to the film is Mature’s inability to sell us on Samson’s passion.  Despite the dialog and the plot, we never get a sense of a strong connection between him and Semadar, and  his decision to tell her the answer to his riddle seems odd and unmotivated.  Likewise, there’s no real chemistry between Lamarr’s Delilah and Mature’s Samson as the two say their lines and move through the stage blocking.  Neither of the actors sells us on a passion so intense that Samson would reveal the source of his strength, and it’s almost a surprise later when we hear that god has given Samson his strength and that telling Delilah is a form of turning against god.  Mature’s lack of commitment and charisma at the core of this film is what makes Samson and Delilah so strangely opaque despite its many beauties.

Samson and Delilah is a movie worth seeing for the insight it can bring into the important 50s genre of the biblical epic.  It’s also worthwhile as the predecessor of the altogether successful Ten Commandments.  There’s a great deal of potential in this project, and it’s a pity that DeMille wasn’t able to cast a better actor in the lead role who could create a more compelling center to the film.

February 5: The Ten Commandments (1954 -- Cecil B. DeMille)

★★★★

As we learned last Christmas from Ridley Scott’s Exodus: Gods and Kings, they just don’t make ‘em like this anymore.  Cecil B. DeMille pulls out all the stops and delivers 3-1/2 hours of engaging cinema in this justly praised version of the Exodus story. We might not buy into the themes and values that inform this Ten Commandments, and we might not see the characters as believable, but there’s indisputable cinematic power and beauty in this over-the-top epic of the 50s.

The core of the appeal here is the characters.  In contrast to Scott’s recent version of the story, DeMille gives us characters who have some human elements we can respond to.  Nefretiri is the most conflicted character, supporting Moses at many points because of her love for him, undermining him later out of revenge, then suddenly working to save his son from death.  Hers is a conflicted love.  Moses, too, has inner conflicts as he realizes his Jewish background, though after god speaks to him, he becomes a much flatter and uninteresting character.  Pharaoh Sethi first trusts Moses then finds disappointment in him, and the flawed Ramses must cope with his own arrogance in dealing with Moses as well as the very real grief of losing his son.  All these characters go through emotional, if melodramatic, changes.

Minor characters, too, have a sentimental side that we can respond to.  Edward G. Robinson’s Dathan is that unflinchingly villainous character we love to hate, and we’re hopeful that the romance between young Joshua and Lilia will one day be realized.  We can also feel for the suffering of Moses biological mother, Yochabel, and for Bithiah, who raises him as her own and loves him.  Even scenes like brick-making and the departure from Egypt feature small vignettes of sentimentality.  In this Ten Commandments, DeMille uses even the smallest character as an emotional element to draw us into the film.

A surprising discovery in watching this Ten Commandments is that we don’t need awe-inspiring CGI to jack our involvement in a film.  Ridley Scott’s 3D special effects are clearly superior to the cartoon column of fire and the blue-screen that DeMille had available to him, but Scott has to use a uniform, grey pallet to take advantage of his technology while DeMille used riveting Technicolor that draws our eye with unexpected textures and colors.  Red bolts of cloth arc across DeMille’s screen, and turquoise radiates blue from around the necks of the Egyptians.  Skin tones are a rich contrast to the cloth draping the actors’ bodies, which themselves are set off with high-key lighting for the men and soft focus for the women.  Technicolor emphasizes the details in accessories and cloth, and there’s an unmistakable quality of mid-50s fashion in the opulent court costumes, perhaps reflecting the contribution of Edith Head.  Today’s CGI can indeed draw the eye, but 50s Technicolor serves the same function just as well when used by someone this skilled at it.

The sentimentality, lavish costumes and ornate sets in this film all point to a silent aesthetic that DeMille was very familiar with.  Billowing curtains often define interior spaces -- a device that Scott uses effectively in Gladiator -- but what really compels us are the expansive of pyramids, temple facades and rows of sphinxes.  We also see the silents’ love of exotic spectacle in moments like Moses directing the placement of an obelisk between two large temples.  Other spectacles include the exodus from Egypt and Ramses’ subsequent pursuit, as well as the hurried crossing of the Red Sea, all three with hordes of extras.  The extravagant party scene around the Golden Calf also recalls the many decadent dance scenes of earlier silent films.

In the Ten Commandments, DeMille updates the old vocabulary of silent film for his mid-50s era.  While he addresses a contemporary, Cold War concerns like freedom vs. servitude to the state, with this vocabulary, he also demonstrates the power to touch us that this old cinematic language still has.

February 4: Exodus: Gods and Kings (2014 -- Ridley Scott)

 ★★

Ridley Scott makes several interesting choices in Exodus: Gods and Kings.  God is a British child in this epic remake, calling to mind CS Lewis’ statement that children want justice and adults want mercy.  Impatient, single-minded, lacking perspective on the victims, the god of the Exodus story has the elemental qualities of a child, and Scott captures this characteristic with this impressive choice of image.  And Scott’s decision creates an interesting relationship for Moses, who finds himself trying to create an adult perspective in god.  This dynamic is quite a shift from the god-man relationship in DeMille’s 1956 epic

But of course, it’s the digital effects that are the main sell here.  It’s easy to imagine that technological improvements were a big consideration in undertaking this remake, and the effects deliver.  Scott uses the same narrative choices as his predecessor in not dwelling on all the individual plagues but compressing them and having Ramses dismiss them with scientific explanations.  The water turns dramatically to blood, and the portrayal of dead fish, boils, frogs and lice is so visceral that we can almost sense them.  The receding of the Red Sea is awe-inspiring here, especially in 3D.

But despite all these great elements, Scott’s Exodus drags mightily through its 2-1/2 hour run.  Scott has clearly chosen to direct Christian Bale and Joel Edgerton as cyphers, and the result is that Exodus fails to engage the audience.  As Scott’s tale winds from Moses’ Egyptian fall, his embrace of his Jewish heritage and his acting as god’s prophet, Bale leaves us feeling distant and uninvolved with any of Moses’ ambitions, disappointments, loves or doubts.  That Bale’s Moses engages us significantly less than that of Charlton Heston is a testimony to Scott’s directorial decision, but wringing emotion and engagement out of Ramses and Moses does not serve the project well.

So for all the interesting embellishments and directions that Scott uses in this remake, when he replaces the characters of DeMille’s Ten Commandments with one-dimensional gods and kings of legend, he moves his film from audience engagement to declamation.  And two-and-a-half hours of posturing is a lot to watch on the screen, even with great CGI and 3D.