Drive

Directed by Nicolas Winding Refn
Starring Ryan Gosling, Carey Mulligan, Bryan Cranston

It is difficult to describe what it feels like to see Drive.  Billed pretty much as an action movie, it’s jarring how dreamily it’s paced, yet once you’ve settled into the grove set by the music and long, slow scenes, the movie blows your head off.  But it’s pace still doesn’t pick up, the film just becomes brutally violent.  It’s emotionally engaging, but also distant, breathtaking but horrifying.   And you love it.  So, whatever word describes that.

Ryan Gosling once again proves that he’s one of the best actors working today with a performance the like of which is rarely seen.  Barely speaking or changing his facial expression, he gives an understated, subtle and unbelievably controlled performance as the Driver.  Most of the time, Gosling has an almost naive serenity in his face, with an underlying tension that unsettles, yet still with disarming charm that causes women to suddenly be aware of their wedding rings and causes men to speculate aloud that Gosling would probably “be pretty chill to hang out with.”  He handles well the romantic and dreamy first third, which is essentially the slow development of a lovely romance, until Carey Mulligan receives word that her husband will be released from prison in a week.  In the final two-thirds of the film, he serves as the Gibraltar-like center to the escalating violence and body count.  Without Gosling, the deliberate pace would have lacked the bottled-lightning energy that makes the film edge-of-your-seat suspenseful instead of clumsily brooding.

Though the plot is straight-forward, there’s a lurking malevolence that keeps us from ever getting comfortable.  When Gosling’s character, who is pretty amicable and gentle for the most part, suddenly and quietly tells someone in a diner, “How ’bout this – shut your mouth or I’m going to kick your teeth down your throat and I’ll shut it for you,” it’s a shocking shift we somehow knew was coming.  Director Refn is as concerned with mood and tone as he is with plot and character development.  To a viewer expecting The Fast and the Furious, such attention to mood slows the pace, but for those willing to go on the ride Refn designed, it creates a slowly burning tension that makes every word and action significant and makes the movie sizzle.

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Hanna

Directed by Joe Wright

Starring Saoirse Ronan, Cate Blanchett, Eric Bana

Rated PG-13 for intense sequences of violence and action, some sexual material and language

At first glance, Hanna is one long chase scene, in the vein of the Bourne series or any of the currently popular, vaguely sci-fi action movies with pseudo-superhero, government-agency-coveted bare-handed human death machine protagonists (look for that to be one of Netflix’s overly specific genres).  However, with director Joe Wright making the heretofore unimaginable leap from the high-minded period drama of Pride and Prejudice and Atonement, this genuinely exciting action film gets a surprisingly welcome shot of elegance and depth that elevates it to a much higher level than I expected.

For most of the film, we don’t know much about Hanna, except that she’s been raised in a very cold wilderness by her father.  He educates her by reading to her from an encyclopedia every night, testing her knowledge of several languages and sneak-attacking her while she hunts for their food.  He’s raised her to be a formidable fighter and instilled instincts to be ready to attack, even while sleeping.  When gov’t agents track them down, she is taken to a secret facility in Morocco to be questioned and then killed, but after killing a fair number of soldiers, she escapes to meet her father in Germany, who is killing his way through his own chase scenes.

It’s a wonder to me that this movie didn’t feel uneven (though I can see how a more unforgiving viewer could think that).  The film shifts fluidly from the early scenes of Arctic Circle solitude to a music-videoesque, stylized first chase sequence to teen coming-of-age movie (more on that later) to sci-fi thriller (all of which also serve as variations on a chase scene, even the teen coming-of-age bits).  In all of this shifting, Wright smartly avoids making the whole movie grittily realistic.  While the constantly shaky camera works for Paul Greengrass in the Bourne movies, it’s nice to see Wright sticking to his sensibilities, but still progressing his style.  The score by The Chemical Brothers just as lithely changes tone with the film.  The quieter moments in the film are supported by the score so that they don’t drag, but rather seem to be coiling up to explode when, inevitably, someone undesirable catches up with Hanna.

Up to now, this has been a pretty glowing review.  That’s not to say I’m not glowing about it, but I’m also fully aware of the film’s faults.  However, I think that the film is aware of them too, and I daresay that certain “faults” are there intentionally.  Early in the film, I thought characters were drawn way too broadly; I wouldn’t have been surprised to see the Evil people wearing sandwich boards declaring their love of puppy strangling.  I also thought that Hanna’s shock at the civilized world was too exaggerated.

However, as the film progressed, it became clear that this wasn’t just a chase-filled action movie, and shouldn’t be exclusively read as such.  At its core, Hanna is much more a depiction of adolescence.  It is a coming-of-age story that highlights the shock of the transition from childhood safety to adolescent and adult independence.   Since it is told from that adolescent’s point of view, the facts are skewed.  The scenes where the lights and sounds of colorful Morocco overwhelm Hanna are much more plausible, as are the distinct black-and-white depictions of good and evil.  As the film progresses, those two extremes begin to move toward a more muddled center, just as all those things we Knew with all certainty as children turn out to really just be questions that we’ll almost never certainly answer.  The violence in the film takes on a new poignancy, so that each time Hanna kills, she’s either killing off pieces of her childhood, or killing to desperately hold off the inexorable march of adulthood.  Key scenes take place in playgrounds or amusement parks.  Cate Blanchett’s (whose performance is chilling) specter of adulthood, in her uncomfortable shoes and business attire stalks her with shifting personalities and the cool, creepy detachment of a Bond villain. She constantly bears down on her, driving her further from her father.  Her initials, MW could easily be filled in with Manhood and Womanhood, though maybe that’s just me.  Again, a less forgiving viewer may groan at the idea of allegory, but when it’s not all delineated in one paragraph, it is a lot subtler than I’m making it out to be and, for my money, enhances the viewing experience by adding a layer of “there’s more to this than just some badass fight scenes.”

Such a reading (again, for me, at least) also adds weight to the performances, especially Saoirse Ronan’s (which, thanks to her appearance on Ellen during spring break, I now know is pronounced “Ser-shah”), and uncovers depth in the characterization beyond the sort of unsettling current appeal of seeing a young woman commit acts of violence.

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Thanks to my wife for bringing these to my attention.

Follow the link: http://www.movieweb.com/news/two-black-swan-featurettes

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Black Swan

Directed by Darren Aronofsky

Starring Natalie Portman, Mila Kunis, Vincent Cassell

Rated R for strong sexual content, disturbing violent images, language and some drug use

There has never been a predictable Darren Aronofsky film.  Who would have guessed that the director of 1998’s tiny, cheap math thriller Pi would follow with a devastating portrait of addiction in 2000’s Requiem for a Dream, follow that with 2006’s The Fountain, a beautiful, time-traveling sci-fi film about love, follow that with The Wrestler a small and gritty film about a washed-up professional wrestler, only to follow with this year’s Black Swan, a tense and terrifying film about ballet?  The absolute control he has, no matter the genre or subject matter, should surprise no one at this point.

Natalie Portman is astonishing as Nina, a young dancer in a New York City ballet company vying for the lead in Swan Lake.  Her life is consumed by dance, and little of what she does is in her control.  Her mother’s (Barbara Hershey) smothering and manipulation are as blatantly abusive and painful to watch as any physical abuse could be.  Once she gets the role, Nina becomes obsessed with the role, leading to paranoia and delusion fueled in large part by the arrival of a new, flashier dancer, Lily (Mila Kunis).  Their rivalry becomes a strange friendship and pushes Nina to abandon her girlish innocence and naivety and to release a much darker side of herself.

Opening with a striking and haunting prologue that seems both a non sequitur and portentous, Aronofsky immediately prepares us to be unprepared.  Not much is usual in Black Swan.  Many of the shots (as filmed by long-time Aronofsky cinematographer, the brilliant Matthew Libatique) are reflections or use reflections to the point that it is often difficult to surmise whether the shot is the actual action or a reflection or both.  Early on, it becomes clear that the film isn’t concerned with the obvious questions we all were asking, as far as what’s real, what’s delusion, who’s real, etc. and is much more focused on why a person would go to a place so dark that reality is skewed.  Even there, it doesn’t give any easy answers.

It would have been perfectly understandable to try to elicit pity for Portman’s battered Nina, but as she is subjected to condescension and demeaning, she demonstrates some pluck that is self-preserving at first and self-centered and destructive nearer to the end.  Nina’s slow burn to the dark side is magnified by the film’s own growth from backstage drama to full-on psychological horror film.  When Nina’s paranoia runs wild, the film becomes twisted and terrifying, to great effect.  Under Portman’s powerful command, the final act, especially the dizzying dance sequences, takes on a visceral power that is shocking and tense.  So tense, in fact, that when the final credits rolled, I felt physically tired. I realized that for the last 20 minutes I had been pushing against the floor, pressing into the seat back, thrilled and in awe of what I had just witnessed.

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The Social Network

Directed by David Fincher

Starring Jesse Eisenberg, Rooney Mara, Andrew Garfield, Justin Timberlake

Rate PG-13 for sexual content, drug and alcohol use and language

When it was first announced, everyone scoffed at the idea of “a Facebook movie,” including me.  As details came out, David Fincher directing, Jesse Eisenberg and Justin Timberlake starring, Aaron Sorkin writing, the project became more intriguing, but still sounded absolutely unnecessary.  Then came that haunting emotional rollercoaster trailer with the a cappella girls chorus singing Radiohead’s Creep.  It was clear that no one really knew what this movie was going to be.  Who knew the founding of Facebook was fraught with so much intrigue and back-stabbing?

In the first scene, the film establishes its tone, with dialogue so fast it must have set some sort of record.  Mark Zuckerberg, a nervous, self-conscious, judgmental Harvard student doesn’t realize he’s being broken up with, because he doesn’t realize he’s acting like a total, well, you-know-what.  For a while, it seems as though every subsequent scene tries to underline, capitalize and italicize the fact that Zuckerberg is a huge you-know-what.  And he is.  But mercifully, that is not all that The Social Network is about.  The rapid growth of Facebook, the obscene amounts of money it makes and the ensuing legal battles over the intellectual rights and financial stakes make for compelling viewing, especially in the hands of director David Fincher and writer Aaron Sorkin.

Fincher and Sorkin frame the film with the various depositions that Zuckerberg faces, effectively using them as exposition, freeing the flashback scenes to develop the characters and the nuances of their interactions and relationships.  Coupled with relatively straight-forward filming by Fincher, the film is able to indulge in a nimbly dancing timeline and to shift between characters as they become the center of the story.

The young actors rise to the occasion and tackle the subtleties of Sorkin’s script.  Jesse Eisenberg plays a variation on his usual persona to give Zuckerberg depth, without needed to make him overly sympathetic.  Justin Timberlake is surprising, giving a great performance as Napster founder Shawn Parker, the devil on Zuckerberg’s shoulder, who helped Facebook go worldwide.  Timberlake plays the predictable swagger with unpredictable fragility.

How much of this movie is exaggerated and how much is fabricated isn’t important.  The fact that it’s about Facebook, isn’t even important.  In the end, it’s an age-old story about wealth and greed ruining lives and how a person who set out to connect people ended up alienating everyone close to him.

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Inside Job

Directed by Charles Ferguson

Documentary narrated by Matt Damon

Rated PG-13 for some drug and sex-related material

In his follow up to his Oscar-nominated No End in Sight, director Charles Ferguson examines some of the causes of the global financial crisis of 2008.  The far-reaching story spans decades and continents, highlighting the deregulation and unchecked growth of the financial market beginning in the 1980s, the housing and lending scams, and even exploring gross excesses of greed, drugs and prostitutes that even Gordon Gekko would have balked at.  Ferguson breaks down the corruption, showing that the crisis wasn’t an accident, it was inevitable.

Ferguson doesn’t pull any punches with the interviewees, challenging their vague answers and contradictions.  I was reminded of a line in Frost/Nixon when a researcher says he wants the interview to be “the trial Nixon never had.”  Ferguson takes them to task, but any sort of satisfaction gives way to the infuriating realization that, most likely, nothing will change.  If anything, it looks as if after the crisis, much of the competition was consolidated and the big boys just got bigger.

In no small part, we have Michael Moore to thank for the fact that documentaries now routinely make it into our theaters.  On the other hand, we also have him to thank for the general skepticism that meets any political documentaries with a thesis statement.  Sadly, many may write Inside Job off as yet another politically-charged, factually-dubious documentary, and Ferguson’s freedom with editing does leave one to wonder what was left on the cutting room floor.  However, Inside Job strikes a compelling and convincing balance of righteous indignation and focused muckraking, and makes a much-needed call for action in the face of a bleak future that seems doomed to repeat itself.

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Scott Pilgrim vs. the World

Directed by Edgar Wright

Starring Michael Cera, Mary Elizabeth Winstead, Jason Schwartzman

Rated PG-13 for stylized violence, sexual content, language and drug references

It seems as though Hollywood has been especially pandering and safe the last few years, cranking out sequels and remakes with disappointing and insulting results more often than not.  So it’s refreshing to see director Edgar Wright (Shaun of the Dead, Hot Fuzz) creating original work within that framework, breathing life into his adaptation of the Scott Pilgrim comic series.  Michael Cera plays the eponymous Scott Pilgrim, a 22-year-old bass player who learns he must defeat the seven evil exes in order to win the heart of his new girlfriend.

For a plot that’s so easy to sum up, the film is wonderfully rich in style and grin-inducing coolness.  Progressing like a Japanese fighting video game and reading like a comic book, Scott Pilgrim is the rare action-comedy that actually delivers both action and comedy in spades.  I could get overly literary and talk about how it’s an interesting exploration of the past coming back to effect our futures, but all you need to know about this movie is that is one hell of a fun ride.  If I wasn’t laughing out loud at the breakneck comedic timing, I was giggling with delight simply absorbing the experience.

It’s not a perfect movie, and it lags for a little while around ex number 3, but that fleeting moment is followed by some of the funniest gags in the movie.  Michael Cera plays the same character he always seems to play, but it works here because everyone is an archetype.  The tough guy and the cocky musician and the indie rock chick are used as shorthand so that the story can move and so the jokes and punches can fly without any need for over-thinking.  The movie throws itself into its premise, neither apologizing for the styling nor selling it out as a joke.  Edgar Wright’s sure hand is as impressive as ever and casts a long shadow on anyone trying to create comedy in Hollywood.

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The Expendables

Directed by Sylvester Stallone

Starring Sylvester Stallone, Jason Statham, Jet Li, Anyone who’s ever lifted a weight to get an acting job

Rated R for strong action and bloody violence throughout, and for some language

Boasting a cast that should cause sobs of joy in action fans everywhere, The Expendables is just as full of explodin’ and knuckle bumpin’ as one would expect.  What was surprising is the amount of time spent talking in the first half of the movie.  There’s apparently a plot, given that a majority of the first hour is devoted to setting it up, but the plot is so generic that I can’t, for the life of me, recall what it was, nor can I remember the names of more than three characters.  According to IMDB.com, The Expendables is about a team of mercenaries that heads to South America to overthrow a dictator.  That rings a bell.  As one would expect, people don’t see this movie to follow a plot, and halfway through, the movie realized that too.  For all the awkwardly delivered dialogue and story, it all goes away with a shrug after a not particularly stunning car chase.

That’s pretty much the case for the whole movie.  It’s not particularly impressive, and it falls flat.  I had no illusions that this would be a good film going in, but I at least expected it to be a more than competent action movie.  Where are the killer one-liners? Where are the elaborately choreographed fight scenes?  Sure there are explosions and gun fights, but they are so sloppily executed that they aren’t very exciting (A side note: the movie had a strange and disturbing amount of violence against women.  It certainly wasn’t condoned by the characters, but it also didn’t serve much of a purpose other than to be an excuse for the Expendables to act violently.  Take it for what it is, but it left a bad taste in my mouth.).  There was only one scene that had me hooked and it was the film’s penultimate big chaotic fight, where these towering gods of action movies are set free to fight an endless barrage of faceless bad guys in a cramped hallway.

Sylvester Stallone seems to be grasping at his past, with Rocky Balboa and Rambo preceding The Expendables, and this time he’s brought his weekly bridge game with him.  What could have been a great throwback turned out to be an awkward and clumsy attempt at reliving the past.

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The Kids Are All Right

Directed by Lisa Cholodenko

Starring Annette Benning, Julianne Moore, Mark Ruffalo

Rated R for strong sexual content, nudity, language and some teen drug and alcohol abuse

In The Kids Are All Right, Annette Benning and Julianne Moore play Nic and Jules, a married lesbian couple with two teenage kids, obtained through artificial insemination.  When the older of the two kids turns 18, her 15-year-old brother urges her to contact the donor, Paul (Mark Ruffalo).  Although the meeting goes fairly well, the mothers  are incensed when they find out.  In order to avoid a rift with their kids, they invite Paul to dinner against their better judgment.  Paul’s presence interrupts their marital and familial bliss, exposing weaknesses in their relationships.  Paul, however, is temporarily driven to find some stability in his freewheeling lifestyle and wants to stay in the picture.

Director/Co-writer Lisa Cholodenko’s films serve as vivid portraits of specific aspects of California life.  They manage to celebrate the virtues as well as (and perhaps serving mostly to) critique the faults of her subjects.  When it’s at its best, this film remains subtle, rarely resorting to making the characters stereotypes.  The characters are allowed to breathe and develop naturally.  In order for this to happen, though, the early moments of the film are full of telegraphed, slightly irritating shorthand clues as to what kind of person we can expect each one to be.  Jules, the free spirit, has a thick black bracelet and an Elvis Costello T-shirt.  Joni, the daughter, is a brain and correctly guesses the procedure by which certain growths were removed from Nic’s patients, and so on.

Stylistically, the film is as free-flowing as the character development, sometimes frantic and choppy, sometimes unobtrusive and static, and sometimes very blatantly stylized, yet they cohere to create a very unique atmosphere.

The main strength of the film—which, as a whole, was simply ok—lies in its script and Cholodenko’s ability to capture the myriad ways we deal with interpersonal relationships.  The encounters capture the awkwardness (apparent and potential) of unspoken agendas and the underlying feelings in even mundane conversations or when people don’t always have the right words to say.  We don’t get knocked over the head with the effects of subtle personality clashes or uncomfortable tensions, so the human connections typically feel more genuine.  To the film’s benefit, neither character growth nor plot really drives the film, so the end unexpectedly feels more earned and logical than calculated or manufactured.  In the same way, the honest humor of the film comes more from what we know about the characters and the situation, rather than being just jokes written into a script.

It’s nice to find a film that doesn’t feel the need to contrive its characters and story, but still remains compelling.  Although Cholodenko’s characters could be seen as inaccessible and tend to live lives that are quite far from everyday (think the pot-smoking record producer and well-to-do grad students with too much time on their hands of Laurel Canyon), she manages to find the universality of their struggles and their joys.

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