March 26: Certified Copy/Copie conforme (2010 -- Abbas Kiarostami)

★★★★
This film is a certified, leisurely art movie that’s heavy on dialog and whose actions carry double meanings. The film is so deliberate and staged that I don’t think it’s going to be on a lot of people’s fav list, but I liked it a lot.

At the film’s core is the notion of original and copy and the question of the value of the copy. If that weren’t Derridean enough, a lot of the dialog between the two main characters, Elle and James Miller, seems suspended with uncertain significance. Is theirs is a real (original) marriage or a staged, simulated (copy) one, a game they are playing? And if theirs is only a copy, the film gets at the point that copies have value; James Miller expresses his respect for Elle's sister, who's happy with whatever she has whether it’s an original or a copy. And the wonderful scene in the Tuscan cathedral visually calls into question "original", too, with couples throughout the building happily getting married, replicating marriage in the background of our two main characters; by this point, the notion of original or copy is moot….any “original” marriage is lost and/or irreplaceable. It’s a fabulous scene as the two leads play their way through their marriage(?) among all the other replicating ones. The film eventually lands on the point that a marriage is just a marriage, original/real or copy/unreal.

Certified Copy also suggests another original/copy duality: cinema and reality. Like the other film I saw by Kiarostami recently, Close-Up, this film demands the viewer acknowledge he’s watching a simulacra of reality and not reality. As the two characters drive away from Elle’s house, the severe reflections on the windshield call attention to the fact that we’re watching a film and not a reality as Hollywood film language would express it. Later, at the restaurant, Elle looks right at the camera, right at us, and talks to us as though we were James. Ditto when she’s in the bathroom in front of the mirror later. These are two of the most uncomfortable scenes I've sat though in a movie in awhile. Added to those flourishes, the dialog of the film is generally stagey and stilted. We are clearly watching a movie and not watching reality, but the point is that what we have is good.

And we're led to accept and enjoy this or any "copy" of "reality," whether it’s a Michelangelo or any other Certified Copy.

March 25: The Tillman Story (2010 -- Amir Bar-Lev)

★★

I think this is an especially great time for documentaries, so The Pat Tillman Story comes out at a time of strong work in the field. But I didn’t find this one strong or wonderful. It’s competent, but no more.

If you need another reason to hate Donald Rumsfeld and George Bush (which I don’t), this film will give it to you. But The Pat Tillman Story states the obvious in the Tillman case, finally just presenting the very story the military tells—not a riveting conclusion or documentary investigation. In fact, the military can hardly have been upset at the way the movie stays in the boundaries that the military cover-up finally established. With nothing new to say about Tillman’s death or about the decision to use it for war propaganda, the only thing the movie can do is give vent to the anger of the family, which it does at some length. Another way to approach the subject might have been to try to offer us more of Tillman’s personality so we might be offended at the military’s exploitation of him or see more readily the military’s duplicity or irony. But Bar-Lev either chooses not to do that explanation…or else he can’t.

A few minutes of stonewalling by those of high rank at a House hearing give a little whiff of something rotten, with respect to the cover-up of how Tillman died, but the movie lets the witnesses – and congressmen – off with little examination. I wish we’d seen Tillman’s father, an attorney, tell us the questions he’d have asked, but the movie instead meanders off in disappointment.

For all the competence of the film, it doesn’t offer much insight. The sad moral here is that a good cover-up works and might not even inspire sharp, investigative, documentary outrage.

March 24: Friends of Eddie Coyle (1973 -- Peter Yates)

★★★★

This movie is a great little discovery for me.

I think I heard Friends of Danny Coyle mentioned in connection with the crime movies I’ve been watching lately, and I finally sat down to watch it one evening after a long day at school. I’d expected another crime movie, but I found a surprisingly sympathetic, compelling character study of a middle-aged guy who’s losing his game a bit but still trying to play. The idea isn’t unheard of in crime movies, but with the powerful Robert Mitchum at the center of this movie, Danny Coyle sets the standard for this kind of movie as far as I’m concerned.

Mitchum’s face is about all you’d really need for the film – rugged and masculine with some echo of his younger good looks still visible in the sags that a life of struggle, cigarettes and booze has led to. Coyle is in his 50s and has been beaten up in life, physically and workwise. Sensing his middle years slipping away, he wants to have his remaining life with his kids and with the wife he clearly loves. He’s surrounded by younger, aggressive, risk-taking hoods (the gun dealer and the robbers) that indicate what Coyle might have been in the past, but Coyle has suffered as a result of his earlier risk taking and, in the wisdom of maturity, doesn’t want to take so many risks and have to face the consequences. His buddy Dillon remains in the life, continually struggling to balance the shifting demands of crime and the police, but Coyle seems to have lost this ability. Though he tries to maneuver between the police and crime, he ends up being used by both the police and his criminal friends as he tries to avoid a prison term that would take him away from his wife and children.

Mitchum’s character is a fantastic, memorable, unique crime figure, but his truth goes beyond the crime genre – he’s a middle-aged guy whose talents are slipping but who still needs to function in his corner of society so he can spend his waning years with the people he loves. Mitchum’s good-looks-over-the-hill and his nuanced, sensitive performance create this memorable, sympathetic character.

Director Peter Yates died just last January. If his passing prompts any re-evaluation of his career achievements (which include Bullit, Breaking Away and – ugh! – Krull), I’m sure this film is set for a serious re-evaluation.

March 21: A Single Man (2009 -- Tom Ford)

★★★

This is a beautiful movie, as you’d expect from a designer with a strong visual sense. More than one scene has a still photography sense, but the two that I remember clearest are the scene when George and Jim are talking on the rocks (which looked like it was lifted from a photography book) and the scene with the oversized billboard and George talking with Carlos, the Spanish hustler. I enjoyed both of these scenes, the former because of the composition, texture and stark light and the latter because of its GQ fashion sense and quote of Arimondi. Other great visuals are the architectural mid-century house George and Jim lived in and the home and style of Charley.

Moore’s character points to some of Ford’s limitations, though. Aside from her being in the book that served as the source of the film, I don’t see her function here. Were all of Moore’s footage cut, we’d have the same understanding of George’s character, and Charley doesn’t have an important plot function either. She’s a good excuse for bringing in some more visuals, but she doesn’t move the story or psychology forward very much. In fact, a general problem here is that the story doesn’t move forward much at all. While it can be fine to have a meditative film or a film whose visuals move in a direction, Single Man feels more like a series of pretty tableaux than a linear progression of a story. Single Man suggested Vivre sa Vie to me with its nice visuals and its episodic plot structure, but the French film, even with its choppy inter-titles, has much more narrative flow than does Single Man. Colin Firth does an admirable job of trying to bring continuity to his character, but the movie needs that attention at the larger film level.

Even with its problems, though, Single Man has a lot heart. Its live-every-day-like-it’s-your-last theme is warm and worthy, and it’s a film with love at its core. We see the tenderness and affection between George and Jim in parts of the film, and George’s profound mourning indicates the depth of their love. But the film prefers love over loss, and Firth’s character eventually discovers that he can still find tenderness in the sweet, insistent affection of Kenny and the evident attraction of Carlos. Loopy as she is, even Charley brings some love and humanity into George’s life. And the redemptive power of love goes a long way in making this film the worthwhile project it is.

March 11: Animal Kingdom (2010--David Michôd)

 ★★★★★

Animal Kingdom is one of the darkest and most compelling crime movies I’ve seen in a long time.  A very long time.

The atmosphere here is absolutely brutal.  The police are as ruthless as the criminals, whether they are ambushing and executing suspects or blackmailing the 17-year-old Joshua.  They give Animal Kingdom a big part of its suspense as you never know what the police might do next.  There is no ethical limitation on them, and they are capable of the most uninhibited violence.

Joshua’s family is no better.  After the police frame and execute one of the family, the family ambushes and brutally kills some young policemen.  One uncle regularly gets hyped on drugs, another lusts after Joshua’s girlfriend and has no inhibitions about killing at all.  And Joshua’s aunt, who he moved in with after his own mother OD-ed, will kill or destroy anyone that threatens the family.  Like the police, this group has no morality or limits either.

And the tension is further heightened when Joshua – young, soft-spoken, shy, immature and inexperienced – gets caught between these two violent, raging forces.  He’s used and manipulated by the police and used and manipulated by his family.  And both seem intent on destroying him for their own purposes.  James Frecheville plays Joshua with a good ear and eye to teenage reticence among adults, and he nails the open, deer-in-the-headlights look of a teen who is earnestly trying to learn.  And Joshua needs to learn fast.  Animal Kingdom gets much of its power from our watching this innocent among such raging evil.


There’s no elegance here to relieve the brutality either; in fact, the painfully lower middle class setting adds to the tone in its detail. The family lives in a characterless suburban ranch, and much of the action takes place in strip malls and small business franchises.  It’s a harsh life in a prefab environment.

Michôd moves the plot along quickly with many sudden turns, constantly surprising the viewer with unexpected actions and sudden outbursts of violent strength.  This is what Lou and I call a two-martini movie: one during the movie for pleasure and one after to relax.

March 8: Inside Job (2010--Charles Ferguson)

★★★★★

Feb 27: Out of Africa (1985--Sydney Pollack)

★★★★★
Met David and Andy at Emory’s Theater Trois to watch this last night -- it’s just the big image/big sound movie to see there. Settled into one of Emory’s comfy leather chairs with a big bourbon and an orange, put my feet up, and went back to the clean-and-kind, early colonial days in Kenya. For all the faults of big budget Hollywood productions, when the system gets it right, it’s hard to beat. And Out of Africa is as fabulous as I remember it. In fact, better.
The first time I saw this movie, I responded exactly like Denys did to East Africa: there was so much great, open space and so much wildlife, I just had to get there to experience it first-hand. I should be embarrassed to say that this, but I think Out of Africa was a big part of the reason I went to East Africa the first time. What’s not to love in the images of the rift valley, the mixed herds of wildlife and the exotic acacia silhouettes?

But first time around, I think I missed what was going on in the movie because it’s not really a romantic praise of nature and its beauty. It goes lots further and, though set in East Africa, develops the very American theme of the loss of the frontier. Denys reminds me of Daniel Boone as Robert Morgan describes him in Boone. Morgan’s Boone as a frontiersman who loves being on the leading edge of the frontier, hunting independently or with a bud, making some money by his hunting or by using the knowledge he has gained from his leading-edge position. But he mostly likes being out there because he is more comfortable there than with his family or the society that he left behind. And that’s Denys in Out of Africa. He even admits to Karen that he sometimes goes out into the bush just because he likes it.

And the American frontier at the end of the 18th century was losing its wildlife and pristine character in Boone as fast as Kenya was in the early 20th century in Out of Africa. Daniel Boone saw farms and settlements and declines in beaver and buffalo; Denys saw litter along the railroad track and car tracks in game lands. By the end of the movie, in fact, the land no longer belongs to the native Kykuyu and Masai. It’s the king’s and ready to be surveyed and sold, the indigenous populations being pushed to the side. Just like in Kentucky. I completely missed this deep, American theme the first time I saw the movie, probably because the setting was so exotic.

Out of Africa ties the loss of the frontier theme to another American theme – working out the relationship between a man and his society. This theme got a poignant treatment recently in Into the Wild. The boy in that movie, Chris, takes his Tolstoy and goes on a road trip to Alaska where he hopes to experience connectedness. He reads Tolstoy as emphasizing a natural connection, so he ignores the opportunities for human, social connection he has along the way, opportunities with buddy Vince, girlfriend Kristen and surrogate dad Hal. But the nature connection doesn’t work out for Chris, and even his understanding of Tolstoy shifts from an emphasis on the link between an individual and nature to an emphasis on human connectedness. This insight comes late for Chris, though.

Denys goes on the same trip as Chris, though Out of Africa is a romance and not a road movie. Denys is a strong individual, too, and he generally prefers his connections to be with nature rather than with people. He’s disdainful of society, having only one real friend, and prefers his time in the bush to being in the city. Like Chris, though, Denys comes to see the importance of being connected with people. He’s clearly surprised when he discovers his friend, Berkeley, has an African mistress; Berkeley hadn’t told Denys about the woman because he didn’t think they knew each other well enough, and that insight makes Denys aware of is lack of connection. However, Denys is attracted by independence, and he’s attracted to Karen because he thinks he sees his own independence in her. However, as their relationship grows, it turns out that she’s more connected to people and society than he is despite her refusal to play a conventional role in her society. In their arguments, Denys comes to see the give-and-take and place of responsibility in a relationship, and he even acknowledges how he’s been wrong about things. But though Denys and Karen have some happiness (more than Chris in Into the Wild), it’s ultimately cut short by the fire on Karen’s estate and Denys’ accident. Denys is a little too slow to understand the importance of others in a life.

Works that deal with human connections always resonate with me, but there are a lot of other things in the film I connect with, too. I think the movie has some of the greatest music ever, and that’s not hyperbole. The grandeur and the minor key of the theme, along with its orchestration, create a sense of lift but also of nostalgia for something lost. It’s easy for me to dial it up from memory at about any time. And I like the spacious, inclusive framing of so many images. And the low angle exterior lighting and the soft interior. Also, the 1910s through 30s setting of the film is one of my favorite design periods, so I like the clothes and décor as much as the nature scenes.

I also connect with many of the locations and with the expat-in-Africa elements. I’ve been on that train from Nairobi to Mombassa twice, and the first trip (the 80s) reminded me of the movie. I slept on the train that time and went for breakfast as we were passing through Tsavo. Eating on silver and china, I sat in the dining car and watched antelope and giraffe as we headed to the coast. A great memory. Also, I’ve been to the Karen Blixen house a couple of times, and I remember the gardens and the period furnishings well. And the scene of the Africans watching for the cuckoo clock to chime reminded me of living in the bush in Mali when our house was the main source of amusement for the village lids, who would come to the house and look in the windows just to see what weird things the tubobs were doing when they had free time.

And how could anyone not like the romance in the movie? The appeal here is the earnest quest for love that both Karen and Denys are undertaking in their respective ways. Karen is independent, determined but warm; Denys has an almost childlike need for love despite the wisdom he’s developed in the bush. There’s no question of the spark between them. And that’s helped by their acting skills. The script is generally good, but both Streep and Redford have some godawful lines to deliver though they both do it so convincingly that I only realized the lines were bad in retrospect.

I could go on and on about the things I like in this movie. Not sure what the extended scenes are here, but perhaps the scene at the beach would be in that number….and perhaps some scenes were added to the trip Denys invites Karen on. I also liked the Karen character as having a quality I associate with Scandinavians and Germans: direct, very warm, lacking sweetness. Karen is all of that. Lastly, I guess I forgot the discussion of STDs in the film: Karen getting infected with syphilis, having to discuss it with Bror and then with Denys.….in Out of Africa? I totally blanked that in my first viewing of the film. Fairly progressive mainstream cinema for today, not to mention 1985.

I think this film is an extraordinary classic. How wonderful.