My Oscar Takes

As of this writing, the Oscars are over. The winner chosen. Here are my takes on the final nine, some quite worthy of a nomination, but others ... Not. Why the Academy went beyond five, I find just lame ...

The Artist
Director/writer Michel Hazanavicius’ much-celebrated “silent” black-and-white comedy-drama “The Artist” is a high-wire act of cinematic love that pays homage to and plays with the earliest movies. The plot: Boisterous star of 1920s action films George Valentin (Jean Dujardin) falls hard from celebrity as “Talkies” become Hollywood’s mantra, ironically sweeping the starlet (Bérénice Bejo) he discovered to fame. Hazanavicius trumps expectations throughout, putting Valentin in a nightmare world of “sound” where glasses clink and dogs bark, but our hero has no voice. Sly jokes abound, too: A grammatical error in a dialogue card nudges a scene into hilarity. The lack of vocals forces us to focus on the faces and gestures of the actors, the artists on screen and appreciate their craft: Dujardin, Bejo, James Cromwell, and John Goodman. Dujardin and Bejo’s onscreen chemistry is priceless, and their final scene packs two surprises: The long-lost glory of dance in movies, and the real fear why Valentin feels he has no voice in America. Rare is the moment when “Artist” is truly silent, for it packs a stellar score using music new and old to serve as a substitute for voices, a narration of orchestra and ’20s jazz. Also, best dog ever. A

The Descendants
Alexander Payne’s awesome “The Descendants” pulls the rug out from our under feet in a quick minute as we open on a beautiful woman water skiing. Cut to black. A narrator tells us the woman – his wife -- lies in a coma following a boat crash. This story should be happy. We are in Hawaii, paradise to us in the mainland U.S. But Matt King won’t have it. “Paradise can go fuck itself,” he says in a voice over. George Clooney is Matt. Perfect performance. Bitter and angry, full of new-found reality. Every scene is perfectly written and plays between genres. Payne and his co-screenwriters, Nat Faxon and Jim Rash, follow it with a brutal scene as Matt rips into the friend with full-on rage and fear – “Did she love him?” There are three dozen such perfect scenes, quiet, wordless scenes, too. Clooney may well win the Oscar as a heartbroken, newly awakened man who must forgive, but cannot save, his wife. He deserves it. A

Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close
“Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close” is a feel-good 9/11 movie. It opens with a body falling pretty-like from the World Trade Center, and ends with a similar motif, intercut with a boy on a swing. It’s made with Oscar in mind with Stephen Daldry (“The Reader”) behind the camera, and Tom Hanks, Sandra Bullock and Viola Davis on screen. The boy is Oskar Schell, a boy with Asperger’s Syndrome (he claims the tests were inconclusive) grieving the death of his beloved father (Hanks). One day Oskar finds a key in his father’s closet and sees it as a last gift from dad, who used scavenger hunts to bring the boy out of his shell. Schell. Get it? So the boy hunts, seeking an answer as to why dad died that Worst Day. The story is intriguing, but halfway I near bolted. Oskar clearly is in desperate need of psychological care – he fears everything and self-tortures his own body -- but the movie treats his illness as a quirky plot device, worsened by clueless, impossible-to-exist adults. As Oskar, newcomer Thomas Horn shines with majestic soul, but that doesn’t make anything here OK. A feel-good 9/11 movie is not quirky, it’s insulting. The grade is for the boy. C-

The Help
“The Help” is impossible to hate or dismiss. If you have a sense of justice. But make no mistake about it, this is a Disneyfied dramatization of the long civil rights struggle by African Americans, and yet – a Hollywood tradition in “Glory” and “Mississippi Burning” and dozens upon dozens of other films – it chooses to focus on wealthy white characters. The people who should be our total and absolute focus are secondary. Worse, for every heartbreaking scene of racism, evil decorated in twisted Southern American Christian pride, the filmmakers serve up a comedic aside or comeuppance to let us know, we will leave the theater feeling good. No, “Help” is not great. But by the sheer strength of Viola Davis’ acting as a maid and the scary notion that an entire block of American voters (conservative Santorum-loving assholes) consider this era to be America’s finest, it must be seen. Flaws and all. But, really, Emma Stone as the lead?1?B-

Hugo
Leave it to Martin Scorsese to not just set a new high bar for children’s films, but all 3D movies. “Hugo” is a – superlative! -- masterpiece, a tale of an orphan boy (Asa Butterfield) in love with machines, cinema and stories, living in a Parisian train station as a clock master. The film itself glows with a boundless joy of movies and books beloved by Scorsese, making his best film in years, and his brightest, most wide-eyed adventure in ... forever. Hugo – this will upset Fox viewers – is poor, and steals food and drink to survive. (Call Newt!) That thievery puts him at odds with a short-fused toy shop owner named Georges Melies, who you well know if you know cinema. The plot kicks into glorious gear when Georges (Ben Kingsley) confiscates a notepad from Hugo, not knowing it once belonged to the boy’s dead father (Jude Law). I will say nothing more of the plot, watch and enjoy. Everything in “Hugo” – from the scenery and special effects to the actors and words -- is for proudly childish dreamers of all ages, all the ones who ever held a film camera or took pen to paper and thought, “What world can I create today?” Amazing from start to finish. A

Midnight in Paris
“Midnight in Paris” is a delight. A reminder that Woody Allen is one of the best movie writers/directors out there no matter how creepy he is off camera. This is a comedy about a struggling American novelist (Owen Wilson) who becomes lost – figuratively and literally – in Paris’ nighttime streets, the lights and spirits of deceased artists, musicians and writers lulling him in utopia. Then he gets lost – in time – when a 1920s taxi, every night at midnight, whisks him away to the days of F. Scott Fitzgerald, Pablo Picasso, Cole Porter and Ernest Hemingway, what Owen’s Gil considers the greatest era for artisans in history. This just isn’t a new classic Allen comedy, it’s a tweak at nostalgia fever by both Tea Party Americans who long for the founding days of America, and daydreaming liberals who think art was somehow more pure 100 years ago. Both are wrong. “Midnight” is near perfect. A

Moneyball
It's 2001 and Oakland Athletics’ GM Billy Beane (Brad Pitt) is coming off a post-season crushing by the Yankees. Co-written by Aaron Sorkin and Steve Zallian, “Moneyball” is about any passion or business – pizza-making, movie-making, banking or professional sport – steam-rolled by Big Money, all the joy and unknowns crushed under consumer surveys and greed. The baseball scenes are almost beside the point as Beane never watches the games. That said, the tumults of an imploded 11-0 lead make for damn fine filmmaking by director Bennet Miller, who made “Capote.” Yeah, the ending goes long in the bottom of the ninth, but it is painless. I cannot say enough how much I dug Pitt’s performance, and Jonah Hill is brilliant as a numbers geek, who knew? A-

Tree of Life
On my first viewing of “Tree of Life,” Terrence Malick’s epic drama of God’s creation of the universe, one Texas family during the 1950s, and such small potatoes as life and death, it took me more than a week to even form words to describe a reaction. This is my pick for the Best Movie of 2011, i cannot say more, if you wish to know more, search this blog. No more words can be made. Sorry. Seriously, one of the all-time great works of art. A+

War Horse
Steven Spielberg's “War Horse” is an unabashedly, unapologetic and amazing big-screen World War I drama about a boy-turned-man and his horse that recalls a 1950s Techicolor epic long gone from cinemas, but with an important distinction, there is no glorification of war here. The horse of the title is conscripted to serve in battle, and Spielberg is grandiose and sentimental about it, and John Williams’ old-fashioned score pulls out the full orchestra, and whips and pulls for every emotion, but when Joey -- the War Horse -- is running shell-shocked and horrified through a godless battlefield, ripping through barbed wire, cut to pieces, the guy who made “E.T.” reduced me once again to blubber. Awesome, no other words. A

The Artist (2011)

Director/writer Michel Hazanavicius’ much-celebrated “silent” black-and-white comedy-drama “The Artist” is a high-wire act of cinematic love that pays homage to and plays with the earliest movies. The plot: Boisterous star of 1920s action films George Valentin (Jean Dujardin) falls hard from celebrity as “Talkies” become Hollywood’s mantra, ironically sweeping the starlet (Bérénice Bejo) he discovered to fame. Hazanavicius trumps expectations throughout, putting Valentin in a nightmare world of “sound” where glasses clink and dogs bark, but our hero has no voice. Sly jokes abound, too: A grammatical error in a dialogue card nudges a scene into hilarity. The lack of vocals makes us focus on the faces and gestures of the actors, the artists, on screen and fully appreciate their craft: Dujardin, Bejo, James Cromwell, and John Goodman. Dujardin and Bejo’s onscreen chemistry is priceless, and their final scene packs two surprises: The long-lost glory of dance in movies, and the real fear why Valentin feels he has no voice in America. Rare is the moment when “Artist” is truly silent, for it packs a stellar score using music new and old to serve as a substitute for voices, a narration of orchestra and ’20s jazz. Also, best dog ever. A

Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy (2011) – A Second Look

I reviewed Thomas Alfredson’s “Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy” in January, calling it a good film, moody, with an overly complicated plot. Not worthy of a Top 10 for 2011. I just saw it again, and fell spellbound by how Alfredson frames his characters within windows, library stacks, doorways, and gates, every character boxed in, objects cut off, by the life they lead: Serving queen and country as spies. It’s the smartest, most intense spy film I’ve seen in years, taking away every thrill we expect in a spy flick. It’s a marvelous move from Alfredson, who has taken the classic novel – I’m re-reading it right now – and reworked into a drama about men not just battling the enemy, but each other for “treasure.” Absolutely perfect is Benedict Cumberbatch’s soul-crushed homosexual, dispatching his live-in boyfriend for career and country. That wasn’t in the book. Gary Oldman, as the fired spy tasked with finding a mole, marveled me all over, as a man who has spent so long repressing his own life and wife, he is left horrified at his loneliness. Give the man an Oscar. Absolutely one of 2011’s best. A

Death Becomes Her (1992)

Before he got lost in stop-motion animated films, Robert Zemeckis made live-action movies that used jaw-dropper special effects to tell wildly fun stories. On the darker side was “Death Becomes Her,” a “Twilight Zone”-like satire about a beauty-obsessed actress (Meryl Streep), her former high-school rival (Goldie Hawn) and the sad-sack plastic surgeon (Bruce Willis) who comes between them. A creepily beautiful Isabella Rossellini plays a sorceress who gets between everyone, with a potion that promises eternal youth, with all its hiccups (take care of your body, she warns). I will say no more for those who have not seen this wicked tale, except to say Zemeckis has a ball showing how many times a person who cannot die can die. The script is barely skin deep, but the three leads are in top comedic form. Willis lampoons his “Die Hard” persona, sporting ugly sweaters and nerd glasses, and Hawn is gloriously Hawn, with a streak of evil. Steep opens the film with a hilariously bad musical number. B+

The Recruit (2003)

When a brilliant hotshot (Colin Farrell) is recruited to join the CIA and his trainer/boss/mentor looks and sounds and does that whole wiggy Al Pacino thing, and is, in fact, Al Pacino, something must be wrong. “I got a bad feeling about this” wrong. And, that’s “The Recruit,” a spy thriller from Roger Donaldson, who made the terrific 1980s mind-screw “No Way Out.” You know the way out here, though, because … did I mention Al Pacino? In a literal spotlight at one point? Sporting a goatee? This is by-the-numbers with every twist underlined by a loud music cue, but it’s not a terrible affair. Pacino overacts with zeal, having fun showing the whipper snappers on set (Farrell, Bridget Moynahan) how you spook the guys behind the cameras and holding the boom mikes. Drinking while watching? Take a shot every time Farrell loses the American accent. And, yes, I skipped a plot summary. (Al Pacino.) C+

The Punisher (2004)

“The Punisher” is a punishment to watch. Tone deaf, overlong, filmed in a seemingly deserted Tampa Bay (subbing for New York!) and overacted to the point of hilarity, we suffer more than anyone on screen. The plot to this Marvel comic book vigilante flick: Ex-FBI agent Frank Castle (Thomas Jane) watches his entire family be killed before he himself is left for dead by gangsters (led by John Travolta, all “Weeee! I’m a bad guy!”). Naturally, Castle returns to slay all who wronged him. The comics I recall, Castle was a bad-ass loner feared by villains and super heroes. Here, he babbles nonstop, befriends a trio of special-needs cases imported from an insipid comedy, and, at one point, tortures a half-naked guy by sliding a frozen Popsicle along the man’s back. Um, erotic? No. Punishment. Jane mumbles his lines like an ESL Eastwood and insists his actions are not revenge. Huh? Odd fact: Marvel had made this film three times. Masochistic? D-

The Woman in Black (2012)

Voldermort would shit his robe. In “The Woman in Black,” Harry Potter himself Daniel Radcliffe is an early 1900s widowed father/ greenish solicitor sent on a miserable errand: Close out the estate of an old woman who left behind a decrepit English mansion and “Hoarders”-worthy piles of papers. How very Jonathan Harker. Eel Marsh House (!) is built on high land regularly made an island during high-tide, set apart from a town where our hero learns much quickly: He is not welcomed, every parent has lost a child, and the manor is full of vile noises and visions. This is an old–school haunted-house yarn, based not on a book written by Poe, but one certainly written with the old master in mind. Radcliffe does well playing a young man raised to believe in God, but not ghosts, and stricken to see much of the latter, but never the former. Director James Watkins has washed out almost all color and light, so any bright signs must not be trusted. The house moans, shadows creep, and ghostly faces appear out of thin air, making the audience jump and scream, and then laugh. A-