SPECTRUM CINEMA

WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT KEVIN (2011)

DIRECTOR: Lynne Ramsey

STARRING: Tilda Swinton & Ezra Miller 

Talk about onscreen birth control, man. Not since Rosemary’s Baby have I been so convinced that procreating is an absolutely horrifying idea and that no good can come of it. This is one of those films for the masochistic viewer, the kind that I probably wouldn’t recommend to the average viewer. That being said, everything about it was brilliant, disturbing, and hard to swallow. That is, the best kind — worth multiple viewings, worth ownership, and so on.

In We Need to Talk About Kevin, Eva Khatchadourian (Swinton) has become the pariah of her community, punished and blamed for an act of horrific violence committed by her teenage son, Kevin (Miller). As Eva becomes increasingly isolated in her own guilt she reverts into memories of raising her son: his unusual development and vindictive cruelty, as well as his escalating and innate disdain for his mother and family, of which his father seems to be willfully oblivious. Suffering through her memories as she searches for something of an answer, Eva struggles to come to terms her own responsibility, as well as the love she still holds for Kevin in spite of it all.

I actually saw this film a few months ago, and then went out to purchase the source novel; it’s proven to be one of the most deeply unsettling books I’ve ever read. I decided to re-watch the film halfway through the book, and then again upon completion, using it like a visual aid. As a pair the novel and film work together quite perfectly; the screen provides the atmosphere while the page provides the insight. They are companion pieces to one another. With the book I can understand some of the subtler interactions that I’d missed before, the significance of little things.  That isn’t to say the film isn’t worth seeing with the book unread; it certainly is. It still stands alone as an interpretation, though it may leave more questions than answers in the end.

The strength of the film lies in its emotional grip. While the book is analytical and in-depth, the film is dreamlike (or nightmarish?) and atmospheric, providing an unsettling framework for its viewers. The credit mostly goes toward the actors, because despite the filmmakers’ beautiful take on the source material, they couldn’t have gotten far without Ms. Swinton and Ezra fucking Miller. We all know Tilda Swinton is legendary — natural, understated, almost alien-like in her physicality — while Miller, whom I’ll never be able to watch again without getting nervous (in spite of his delightful upcoming role as Patrick in The Perks of Being a Wallflower), has the potential to join her ranks. Although the film sometimes struggles with its ability to convey the fine details of the novel, these two actors make up for it in spades with only their expressions and interactions with one another — particularly Miller, who works his performance off the two young actors who play Kevin as children at different ages. The three of them have the “Kevin death-glare” down to an art. Well done, boys.

This is a beautiful, chilling film; it is also unique, in that it is not better or worse than the novel, but better with the novel. I strongly recommend both, simultaneously and independently. Soon I’ll be adding this to my shelf. It has certainly earned its place.

FINAL GRADE: A-

THE WOMAN (2011)

DIRECTOR: Lucky McKee

STARRING: Pollyanna McIntosh & Sean Bridgers

I became aware of this little film last year when I came across a YouTube video of a man walking out of a theatre having just seen it. On camera he essentially damns the filmmakers and the festival for showing it, declaring that it should be banned, that it’s filth, and so on and so forth. He was genuinely livid that such a film could exist. Naturally, I’ve been waiting to see it ever since. Now, having sat through it and subjecting myself to a cement mixer of reactions, I’ve had to give myself a rare reminder: there are some things you can’t un-see.

In The Woman, Chris Cleek (Bridgers) is an old-fashioned patriarch with a beautiful country home and a picture-perfect family. While on a solo hunting trip, Chris comes across a feral woman (McIntosh) living in the woods, having grown up alongside wolves since infancy. Witnessing her savage behavior, he decides to capture her and keep her bound in his cellar, enlisting his family to help him “civilize” her. As he cleans, feeds, and clothes her, deep-seated family tensions steadily rise to the surface, allowing her to become subject to various forms of abuse. Eventually the Woman’s presence begins to wreak havoc on the Cleeks, as Chris’s tailored exterior falls away to reveal something much darker.

 I’ve seen a lot of nasty movies in my day; you might even say that I’m irrationally drawn to them, even though I have little tolerance for gore. I’m confident in saying that The Woman is the most disgusting film I have ever seen — likely the most disturbing, too — and after seeing one scene in particular I can understand why the previously-mentioned YouTube man was so upset. That is not to say, however, that I agree with him. I don’t think this is a film that deserves to be banned. I believe it is a very valid film that only people with very strong stomachs should watch. It’s often too easy for filmmakers who are involved in the “torture porn” genre to justify their work by citing social commentary in their work, but in this case I actually approve of what was trying to be said. This film can be seen as an analysis of abuse, of misogyny, of gender, even of American culture itself; whichever way you want to look, you just might find it. It is an incredibly ugly film that sugarcoats nothing and pushes the limits of horrific violence, but I’m going to go out on a limb and say that there is a time and place for such things. This might be the place.

I have to give huge praise to Pollyanna McIntosh, who was by far the best thing about this film. She elevated it far and above what it might have been. I don’t think I’ve ever seen any actor, man or woman, physically inhabit a role quite like she did, without ever resorting to sex appeal (even though she’s a stunning woman). She scared the shit out of me, and I liked it.

I can’t say this was a good film, but I can’t say it was a bad one, either. The only words I can use to describe it are repulsive, shocking, and absolutely fucking insane.

FINAL GRADE: B-

THE HUNGER GAMES (2012)

DIRECTOR: Gary Ross

STARRING: Jennifer Lawrence, Josh Hutcherson

Adapting a rabidly loved book to film is probably one of the riskiest — not to mention, lucrative — moves in Hollywood. Every single reader has a different idea of what the end result should look like, and a good share will inevitably end up disappointed and/or angry. I came to The Hunger Games late, like I often do with these popular series, and as it turns out it was actually the movie trailer that sold me on it. The story was nothing like what I expected and there was a surprising amount of heart. After consuming all three novels within two weeks I eagerly counted down the days. A film like this could have ruined everything, pissing off every fan in the world. Thank god it turned out to be good.

The Hunger Games follows Katniss Everdeen (Lawrence), a sixteen-year-old girl struggling to survive with her mother and sister in the impoverished District 12 of Panem. Her story kicks off on what is known as Reaping Day, an event in which two children from each of the twelve districts are selected at random to participate in the so-called Hunger Games — a televised fight to the death, designed to terrorize, punish, and control the masses. When her meek younger sister is chosen, Katniss volunteers in her place, joining Peeta Mellark (Hutcherson) as 12’s tributes. In the midst of her fight for survival Katniss unwittingly becomes a symbol of hope and revolution, which may put her in greater danger than the Games itself.

I’m not going to pretend that this is the greatest series in the world; it’s not. I’m also not going to pretend that it’s well written, even though I think the story is great; it isn’t. What makes it stand out, however, is its social and political relevance, as well as a plethora of well-rounded characters combined with a real-life approach that makes readers fear for the lives of their favorites. In short, it’s engaging as hell. The film does a fair job of recreating that onscreen, remaining loyal to the source material while bringing its own flavor. The best moments are its quiet scenes of tension; yes, the fights and bloodbaths are thrillingly executed, but I was much more taken by the moments before Katniss enters the arena, when you can literally see her quaking with fear. I am mostly familiar with Jennifer Lawrence in X-Men: First Class, in which I found her annoying, but after seeing her here I’m beginning to understand her hype and potential (not to mention, she’s my celebrity doppelganger!). Next stop: Winter’s Bone.

However, I do have to say that the film suffered where the books did:  in spite of its gruesome and adult material, it is still strictly YA. I’m not a fan of gore, but an R rating would have elevated it considerably. It was hard not to get frustrated every time the camera whirled away from a kid’s violent slaughter just in time; to look away seemed to miss the story’s themes. Likewise, the whole notion of death was softened and cleaned up. One death in particular — I won’t name names, but you probably know who — was drained of every bit of poignancy and horror, salvaged only by Katniss’s displays of grief. The filmmakers seem to forget that yes, the audience knows kids are dying, and yes, we can handle watching it. I only hope they can commit a little better in the following films.

It’s also worth mentioning that anyone who hasn’t read the book might have a hard time following what’s going on, considering a large amount of the details are left out. Sadly, that’s the nature of book-to-film adaptations, but it’s still good to know that going in. I was satisfied for the most part, and now I’m eager to see what they’ve got next. I’m also going to join in with the Tumblr crowd and vote: Taylor Kitsch for Finnick! Pleeease! Okay, I’m done. 

FINAL GRADE: B+

LIKE CRAZY (2011)

DIRECTOR: Drake Doremus

STARRING: Felicity Jones, Anton Yelchin

Some people might be surprised to know what a romantic I am; my cynicism and dislike for romantic comedies might mask that, but at the end of the day I adore a good love story. I like them simple and honest, without the gimmicks that rom-coms typically resort to. Hence why I was drawn to Like Crazy: its beautiful trailer showed what looked like the innocence and complications of first love. While that promise may have been fulfilled to an extent, other issues prevented it from getting to me quite like I wanted it to.

 In Like Crazy, Anna (Jones) is a British exchange student studying to become a journalist at a Los Angeles university. She meets fellow student Jacob (Yelchin), an American boy with a passion for designing and building furniture. Their relationship takes off overnight, launching them into a love neither expected. When Anna overstays her visa and is subsequently banned from the U.S., their romance becomes complicated and desperate. Attempting to navigate the gray areas and terms of their newfound long-distance relationship, they struggle to reconcile the separate paths their lives are taking, as Jacob’s business gains strength and Anna climbs the ladder of her career. Facing potential new lovers and endless legal hoops to jump through, they become uncertain of whether or not their love is worth it.

On paper this is a heartbreaking situation, and admittedly there are moments when it’s easy to feel how devastated they are. What bothered me, however, was that their relationship felt too idealized to be genuine — perhaps trapped by circumstances in the early stages of love and therefore unable to mature — and also that the wound was, frankly, self-inflicted. Love stories possess most of their power in the audience’s ability to relate to the characters, and in this case it was hard for be to feel sympathy or even like them. Anna is aware of the consequences of overstaying her visa, but can’t bring herself to leave Jacob for a few months anyway; Jacob often fails to meet her halfway, choosing instead to just be angry or withdrawn. They string people along, they mope, and they ignore the fact that they are both excelling in their prospective careers. Never once do they say, “Wow, that was really stupid of us.” My point is that their entire trial would have been easily preventable, but they never take responsibility for it, and in the end the payoff/conclusion doesn’t feel worth the journey.

This film was beautifully shot, heartfelt, and certainly felt real enough; however, failure to get me invested in the two lovebirds cost it dearly. Both Jones and Yelchin were strong in their performances, but I just couldn’t respect their characters. Not the biggest disappointment in the world, but still left me feeling a little sour afterward.

FINAL GRADE: C+

JOHN CARTER (2011)

DIRECTOR: Andrew Stanton

STARRING: Taylor Kitsch, Lynn Collins

Being the predictable person that I am, you may have suspected that following my review of The Bang Bang Club I would go off and investigate pretty-boy Kitsch’s career. You suspected right. While there isn’t a lot to draw from, I have become thoroughly addicted to Friday Night Lights, which inevitably convinced me to see this little film here. It may as well have been called Tim Riggins of Mars: Barsoom Forever. Like the rest of the female world, I attended solely to see Riggs run around in a loincloth for two hours; however, I am pleased to report that while I was not disappointed in that regard, I was also treated to one hell of an entertaining movie.

In John Carter, Civil War veteran John Carter (Kitsch) has become disillusioned with the ugliness of war. Carrying his own tragedies in his heart, he plans to leave his former life behind; the fight for his freedom, however, leads him to a bizarre discovery and his sudden transport to what he eventually discovers to be Mars — known by its native peoples as Barsoom. He finds himself thrust into yet another raging war, between the noble people of Helium, the brutal and ambitious Zodangans, and the green Martian Tharks. Upon meeting Dejah Thoris (Collins), the beautiful princess of Helium, John decides to stand up and fight for her and her people, reawakening his own humanity in the process.

In different times I might have panned the hell out of this movie. It was cheesy to say the least, with a script that certainly could have used some tightening; however, I’ve come to appreciate that certain films call for certain approaches, and as far as this one goes, it has my seal of approval. John Carter is not a modern action hero in any sense; in fact, the source novel was written a century ago and was the springboard for many classic hero tales including Star Wars, so to expect anything other than an old-fashioned hero would be silly. It is (apparently) very easy for critics to label many aspects of this film, including Kitsch’s performance, as wooden or flat. In my viewing, however, I was reminded of old films like Jack the Giant Killer or even John Wayne-like characters — vintage takes to the hero’s tale. Having seen Kitsch excel as Riggins in FNL, I can only imagine that he or the director might have had this in mind. He plays it straight almost to a humorous degree, while putting his ass on the line in some of the most impressive wire stunt work I’ve seen in a while. Let’s just say I might even make myself sit through Battleship, just to lend my support to his career. (It’s also worth mentioning: the loincloth works.)

As far as the rest of the film goes, the plot is admittedly a little hard to follow but still manages to wrap itself up nicely by the end, integrating the pieces and giving its audience some satisfaction. Lynn Collins is more the modern heroine, often channeling Xena in more ways than one, though she’s arguably flatter than Kitsch in her performance (but not quite as pretty). The best part, though? Woola: adorable alien dog creature. I want one.

I’m not going to pretend this is a great film, but I think it deserves a lot more attention and box office action than it’s getting. All I hoped for was a fun two hours, and that’s exactly what I got. Sometimes it’s worth setting aside one’s snobbery and just enjoying the ride.

FINAL GRADE: B

THE BANG BANG CLUB (2010)

DIRECTOR: Steven Silver

STARRING: Ryan Phillippe, Taylor Kitsch

I think it’s time to get back into the blog biz, after a bit of a hiatus. This isn’t the most fabulous of films to use as a re-launching pad, but for some reason it’s the one that’s left the most lasting impression on me lately. It’s funny how that works. While the emotional and historical sides were extremely well executed, the standard pitfalls of Hollywood weighted it down, leaving quite a lot to be desired. However, it managed to be saved by good portrayal of a great man — a man whose story has been haunting me the last few days.

South Africa, 1990-1994: the final days of apartheid. Horrific factional violence is rampant throughout the country, and only four photographers are fearless enough to capture the atrocities on film. These men include Greg Marinovich (Phillippe), a brave and talented amateur, and Kevin Carter (Kitsch), who is suffering the mental and emotional tolls of his job. Known for their willingness to get as close to combat as anyone would dare, the group quickly gains notoriety — particularly when Greg wins a Pulitzer for his graphic photograph of a violent murder. It is Kevin’s photograph, however, that truly captures the world’s attention: that of a young Sudanese girl suffering from famine and the vulture that stalks her. He also wins the Pulitzer, but faces intense controversy when the public begins asking difficult questions. What is a journalist’s responsibility to their subject? Should, or could, he have helped the starving girl? As Greg struggles to hold onto his distance and perspective on his job in order to maintain his sanity, Kevin sinks further down his spiral of depression.

I think it is appropriate to include Kevin’s photograph here. I had seen it before and immediately recognized it in the trailer, which was what compelled me to see this film. Whoever was in charge of recreating all of these historical images — the mob violence, the immolations, machete hackings, and yes, that famous photograph — was absolutely impeccable. Nothing was glossed over and it felt frighteningly real, which is really what made this film stand out. The rest of it, unfortunately, was a little on the weak side, mostly due to the decision to focus a lot of attention a contrived romance between Greg and a pretty photo editor. In fact, I feel it was a mistake to focus primarily on Greg at all; that’s not to say that he wasn’t any less important that the other three —after all, he did win a Pulitzer — but Phillippe was probably the weakest actor. I won’t rag on his poor South African accent; because the real problem was that I just didn’t care for him as a character. He was one dimensional and dull, expressionless. It was a pity.

On the other hand, we have Taylor Kitsch as Kevin — the man whose story has truly gotten to me. It helped that Kitsch more or less fit the very narrow mold of males-I-find-attractive, but it wasn’t only that. It was the man he was playing. Since Kevin was a real person I don’t consider it a spoiler to say that he ended up taking his own life not long after winning his Pulitzer. It crushes my heart to think of a man risking his life for his work, only to be essentially blamed for failing to prevent the injustices he exposes. There is nothing fair or right in such accusations. I feel that Kevin Carter was given the sensitive portrayal he deserved, with respect and honesty. Pretty-boy Kitsch should be proud of himself.

I’m torn over what grade to give this. I am fascinated by its subject matter and Carter’s story, but unfortunately the film did not look very far past the surface, copping out with a lame love story and not giving enough focus to its most interesting character. Still, it did its job. Two days later and I’m still thinking about it.

FINAL GRADE: B / B+

THE DEVIL’S DOUBLE (2011)

DIRECTOR: Lee Tamahori

STARRING: Dominic Cooper, Ludivine Sagnier

Truth is stranger than fiction: this is often remarkably true, and it’s a cliché that some filmmakers could benefit from remembering. In spite of this film not being typical of my preferred genre, I was as excited for this as any other — with a story like this, it’s hard not to be fascinated. After watching it, I’m left scratching my head, wondering how this went wrong with so many excellent ingredients going for it…

The Devil’s Double in question is Latif Yahia (Cooper). Bearing an unlucky resemblance to Uday Hussein (also Cooper), the eldest son of Saddam Hussein, Latif is selected to become Uday’s fedai — that is, to be his body double. With his family threatened, Latif has no choice but to comply, undergoing plastic surgery and learning Uday’s distinct mannerisms in order to effectively erase his own identity. He realizes, however, that Uday is a psychotic time bomb, living by no boundaries and no rules, owning vast riches as well as people, including Sarrab (Sagnier), with whom Latif shares an attraction. Knowing it’s either life or death, Latif begins to look for a way out.

The problem with this film was that the filmmakers took the route of making this exactly like every other blasé thriller on the market. They fictionalized it, focusing on the glitz rather than the substance. There’s violence, there’s sexy women, guns, drugs; you name it. But the fact is, Yahia’s story is such a compelling one that there was really no need for the filler bits. There were so many other ways this could have been done. The tension doesn’t lie in Latif’s relationship with the terribly flat character of Sarrab, whom he knows is off-limits, making him more of an idiot than anything else; it lies in the fact that Uday is absolutely batshit insane and that his reality is so warped that that any of his actions could mean complete chaos. No offense to the real-life Latif Yahia, but Uday is the centre of this story, at least as far as this film is concerned. He is the interesting part, the draw. Latif is failed by the filmmakers.

There are two things this film has going for it (and only two). One is the brilliance that is Dominic Cooper — not, as I said, as Latif, but as Uday. He puts all his eggs in one half of his basket. Had this turned out to be a better film, I’d bet that Cooper would have gained a lot of recognition for his work here. He’s like a tantrum-throwing little child who has free use of his father’s gun, as well as whatever other weapons he can get his hands on. I don’t know much about the real Uday Hussein, but from what I’ve read, Cooper nailed the part. It’s hard to be completely ridiculous and terrifying at the same time. He somehow pulled it off.

The second highlight is featuring the track “Jesus for the Jugular” by The Veils over the incredibly unnecessary and gratuitous sex scene; therefore introducing me to one of the best bands I’ve ever heard. I know it has nothing to do with the film itself, but I couldn’t go without mentioning it.

I was so sure this was going to be good. Unfortunately, it was boring, shallow, and flashy, supported only by one excellent performance.

FINAL GRADE: C+

MARTHA MARCY MAY MARLENE (2011)

DIRECTOR: Sean Durkin

STARRING: Elizabeth Olsen, John Hawkes, & Sarah Paulson

“Do you ever have that feeling where you can’t tell if something’s a memory or if it’s something you dreamed?” This is a question proposed by Martha to her sister, summing up one of the underlying themes of this film. Some of the most disturbing films are often the most thought provoking, offering up an unexpected bout of self-reflection long after the end credits have rolled. In this case, that introspection may be rather uncomfortable, like something crawling around under your skin; but if you’re anything like me, that might have been what you were looking for in the first place.

In Martha Marcy May Marlene, a young woman named Martha (Olsen) emerges from the woods and desperately contacts her sister Lucy (Paulson), whom she has not seen in over two years. As she moves into the lavish vacation home that Lucy shares with her yuppie husband, it is revealed through Martha’s memories that she had been living as Marcy May in a cult under the leadership of Patrick (Hawkes), a charismatic man whose philosophical convictions often resulted in abuse. It quickly becomes apparent that Martha’s trauma runs much deeper than anyone imagined, even as she closes herself off and sinks into paranoia.

This is a powerful film that explores a lot of themes, while also being one of the best portrayals of a damaged psyche that I’ve seen. It’s incredibly hard to watch, even for me (I considered myself fairly thick-skinned). It was clearly inspired by the Manson Family, at least as far as how the cult operates; it was hard not to think of ole’ Charlie every time Patrick came onscreen. It does a tremendous job of showing how fragmented Martha has become and the power that one leader can have over a group; the entire film is dreamlike, moving effortlessly between present day and memory often in a single shot. I predict an award or two for cinematography.

This is one of those cases where it’s actually difficult for me to choose just one theme to discuss, because there were many threads to choose from, depending on where your attention lies. To me, it was about the codes we live by: what is acceptable, what is not. Martha is torn between the violent “freedom” that Patrick promotes and the proper materialism that Lucy sees as the only way to live. Either way, the supposed answers are forced in from the outside, never letting Martha find her own truth. Woven into that are threads of misogyny, hypocrisy, control, manipulation, and all sorts of other not-so-wonderful things. Don’t go into this expecting anything remotely cheerful.

It’s worth mentioning that Elizabeth Olsen is the younger sister of Mary-Kate and Ashley, and it appears that she’s taking a dramatically different route than her sisters. As it turns out, she’s one hell of an actress, and I expect to see her sweeping up a few awards of her own.

Overall, this is one of those films that I’m grateful for, but I doubt I’ll ever want to see it again. Once was enough. That being said, it deserves all the praise it’s getting, although it may not be what some people expect. I was certainly surprised.

FINAL GRADE: A-

THE RUM DIARY (2011)

DIRECTOR: Bruce Robinson

STARRING: Johnny Depp, Amber Heard, & Aaron Eckhart

Like most teenagers with a love of literature and eccentricity, I went through my mandatory Hunter S. Thompson phase a few years back. Fear & Loathing was all fun and good, though I prefer some of his other work… but The Rum Diary, I must admit, left me deciding that he was smart to stay in the realm of non-fiction. Thompson’s only published novel (correct me if I’m wrong) has some interesting content going on, but it felt underdeveloped to me, so I was curious to see how a film adaptation would fare. I’m a little sad, but not surprised, to say that the big screen didn’t offer much more than the source material.

In The Rum Diary, Paul Kemp (Depp) arrives in 1960’s San Juan, Puerto Rico, to work as a journalist at a floundering newspaper. Joining a crowd of bizarre characters drowning themselves in alcohol, Paul finds himself immersed in the island’s underbelly; soon, however, he’s becoming acquainted with Sanderson (Eckhart), a charming but smarmy businessman who’s prepared to exploit the beauty of Puerto Rico for every dollar he can get — with Paul’s help. While Paul straddles the fence of his own morality and attempts to keep himself out of jail, he becomes infatuated with Chenault (Heard), Sanderson’s young and beautiful fiancée. 

Here’s the thing. I admire Johnny Depp as much as the next person, and I would love if this were a perfect world in which he was one of those actors who could do no wrong. A few years ago, I might have made such a claim. The problem lies in the fact that the Pirates of the Caribbean films destroyed him; yes, they were the box office pinnacles of his career and Captain Jack was a great role, but they turned him into a profoundly lazy actor. In every film I’ve seen of his since then, there’s been something missing in his performances; there’s no longer any life in his eyes, no zest… no effort. He no longer cares. When he isn’t playing an eccentric Willy Wonka/Mad Hatter type, he simply looks vacant. I was afraid that he would revert to his performance in Fear & Loathing in Las Vegas — that would have been inappropriate, considering Paul Kemp is a fictional character and not necessarily modeled after Hunter Thompson himself — but at this point I almost wish he would have. Instead, we get a watered-down version of Johnny’s recycled antics: the deadpan delivery, the occasionally “weird” and wide-eyed expression… but barely anything beyond that. It felt like he wanted to just get through it for the sake of making the film. Considering the friendship he shared with Hunter, I wish he’d have tried a little harder, or at least given the role to someone more suitable for it (after all, he doesn’t exactly look thirty-something anymore).

There really isn’t much of a story to speak of — at least, not anything to go beyond the quarter-inch thickness of the novel, which doesn’t offer much for a two hour film. The actors can’t even rescue anything, seeing as both Eckhart and Heard’s characters are each people you could summarize in a few sentences. Sanderson is a sleazy, one-dimensional douche bag, while Chenault is apparently the only blonde woman in Puerto Rico, which makes her consistently accompanied by angelic music and camera shots focusing on her various body parts (cleavage, legs, whatever). Her romance with Kemp is shallow and weak, which is not helped by the fact that she’s half his age. Sure, Amber Heard is exceptionally pretty and decently charismatic, but she just doesn’t have the acting chops to make Chenault an interesting character. Too bad.

No story, no tension, no real resolution, boring characters, lazy Johnny… but pretty island and pretty girl. Sorry, not enough.

FINAL GRADE: C

TAKE SHELTER (2011)

DIRECTOR: Jeff Nichols

STARRING: Michael Shannon, Jessica Chastain

You might say that diversity is the spice of cinema, as it is in life — walking into a theatre, there is always the possibility (or the promise) of an experience. You never know what feelings you’re going to leave with. That couldn’t be truer with my viewing of Take Shelter, a film that’s been the most challenging in my recent memory. My companion disliked it, citing “not getting it,” which is understandable; after all, I’m not even sure I got it. But sometimes that’s a good thing. In this case, I think it is. Sometimes you gotta work.

In Take Shelter, Curtis (Shannon) is leading a simple life with his wife Samantha (Chastain) and their deaf daughter, Hannah. One day Curtis notices dark storm clouds on the horizon, accompanied by rain like motor oil; soon he’s witnessing flocks of birds flying in bizarre patterns; and then his dreams begin to haunt him with violent, doomsday-like images. As the dreams get progressively worse and his stormy visions bleed into the day, Curtis becomes convinced that something horrible is coming — while simultaneously wondering if he has inherited his mother’s schizophrenia. As he struggles to prove his sanity, he begins obsessively building a storm shelter in his backyard, ultimately jeopardizing his family’s trust and security.

Most films of this type tend to have a message, a punctuating statement before the closing credits. It usually isn’t obvious, but it’s always there, although many viewers will take away their own interpretation of it. In the case of Take Shelter, I’m not entirely convinced there is one underlying thing — I mean, not just one. I think it’s about many different things — family, faith, belief, or whatever you might see — but I tend to believe that what was most important here were the feelings it carried. In the end I am still unsure if Curtis was mentally ill or if he was some kind of prophet, and I see no reason to definitively make up my mind.

As much as I’m praying for Michael Fassbender to win the Oscar for his role in Shame, I’m ready to admit that he has tremendous competition in Michael Shannon. As Curtis, Shannon is possessed by so many conflicting emotions that it’s impossible not to feel his tension in every scene. He represents “the unknown,” and it’s very clear that he knows that. He carries a struggle between what he rationally thinks and what he feels, two ends of a spectrum that cannot coexist. He’s a paradox in many ways, but one that we as an audience can relate to, while at the same time watching his journey with anxiety and uncertainty.

This isn’t a film for people who want a neat package at the end. It requires patience and surrender; otherwise you’ll get nothing but frustration. It’s a beautiful film, but one that I can’t seem to pin down. Strangely, I have no problem with that.

FINAL GRADE: B+

TOMBOY (2011)

DIRECTOR: Céline Sciamma

STARRING: Zoé Héran, Malonn Lévana, & Jeanne Disson

For the last week, Portland’s 15^th annual Lesbian & Gay Film Festival has been in full swing at Cinema 21. I’m lucky enough to live a short walk away, so I had no excuse not to check out a few of the films. Among a warm and unified audience I got to enjoy two treats on the screen — the festival’s incredibly moving opening film titled We Were Here about the AIDS crisis in San Francisco, and this, an equally beautiful French film. Let’s just say that you can expect to see me at the festival again next year…

Tomboy tells the story of Laure (Héran), a ten-year-old girl settling into a new apartment with her family. Soon she is playing and enjoying the summer with a new crowd of kids, including Lisa (Disson), who lives in the same complex. Because of Laure’s androgynous looks and style, Lisa mistakes Laure to be a boy; Laure chooses not to correct her, instead introducing herself as Mikael and creating a new identity. It is quickly apparent that a young romance is blossoming between the two, while Laure’s younger sister Jeanne (Lévana) joins in to maintain “Mikael’s” secret. It isn’t long, however, before the truth comes out, forcing Laure to face the consequences of her actions.

This is a simple and straightforward film, which is fairly remarkable considering its subject matter. There are many filmmakers who could have taken this and created something preachy or even tragic, turning Laure into a martyr (which, being used to American fare, I was conditioned to expect). Not here. Zoé Héran’s Laure is a refreshingly average child; there is nothing special about her. This is just a story of her journey. More importantly, this is a story about acceptance, reminding us that gender identity does not have to be a scary or complicated thing. Laure’s deception, if you want to call it that, is not based in experimentation or uncertainty; it is just who she is. I’ll be honest, I even feel a little strange referring to her as “she.” It’s gray area like that that shows us how subjective these situations are and how it is never up to us what the reality is — it’s only up to the person in question. The film never forces Laure to explain herself, allowing her to speak through her actions. It’s nice to see such an honest and non-judgmental approach, especially considering the amount of ignorance that persists about the subject. Well done.

Aside from Zoé Héran’s brave performance as Laure, the real treasure of Tomboy is Malonn Lévana as Jeanne, a girl who can’t be more than five years old and had the entire audience completely smitten. The innocence of children is a wonderful thing to behold, especially in such a sharp and charming kid. Jeanne Disson’s Lisa was also great, though her character was not quite as well rounded as the other two, nor was her performance; however, in the end, she managed to deliver. All in all, this film is proof that child actors can be strong and effective… but maybe only if they’re French. I can’t help but wonder if the performances, especially Héran’s, would be much more limited in American hands, but that may just be my pessimism talking.

Beautiful work. According to Internet Movie Database, the theatrical release is November 25^th, so keep your eyes open for it.

FINAL GRADE: A-

DRIVE (2011)

DIRECTOR: Nicolas Winding Refn

STARRING: Ryan Gosling, Carey Mulligan

First of all, please forgive the shameful lack of reviews lately. I’m horrible. Second of all, there is a very, very good chance that I might be missing something here. There is a giant puzzle piece that isn’t fitting. For the last week or two I’ve seen at least half a dozen Facebook status updates from my friends raving about this movie, not to mention the stellar reviews it’s getting from critics… What’s going on? I truly don’t enjoy skewering films that I’ve wanted to like, but at this point I’m mystified — spinning head, the whole nine yards of utter confusion. Maybe someone can fill me in, but until then, here’s my take. Unpopular opinions abound.

Drive follows an unnamed Hollywood stunt driver (Gosling) who moonlights as a wheelman for criminals, working by day at an auto repair shop, but otherwise living quietly. Upon crossing paths with his neighbor Irene (Mulligan) and her young son, his solitary life gets turned around as a romance begins to blossom. When Irene’s husband Standard is released from prison and attempts to leave his life of crime behind him, the driver steps up to try to help, agreeing to act as wheelman for a job to clear Standard of his debts to the mob. Inevitably things go wrong and the driver finds himself a target, as he goes to extreme measures to ensure Irene’s safety.

I can understand why people liked this. It has an exciting premise, a fantastic cast, and a unique approach to the genre — some might even call it art-house. I’ll hold back on the things I might call it. There’s an obvious reference to 80’s car films here, even though the subject of cars and even the lead character’s driving skills turn out to be fairly irrelevant to the story. This was not the action flick I expected it to be, which could have been pleasantly surprising, except that the action it did have (i.e. the opening driving scene) lacked any tension to keep it interesting. The problems continue from the get-go and don’t cease till the end credits roll.

I’ll start with the grievance I noticed first: the soundtrack, a series of apparently custom-made euro-pop cheese tracks that are embarrassingly obvious, practically narrating the film as it progresses. One track that plays not once, but twice, tells us, “He’s a real hero / A real human being,” as if to remind us of how noble Ryan Gosling’s character is. This leads me to my second grievance: to the filmmakers, strong and silent nobility means the inability to communicate or express oneself. Gosling is an actor I’ve always liked (particularly in Blue Valentine), but here all he is allowed to do is stare vapidly into space and spice up conversations with one or two-word statements. I get that they were going for cool and collected, but to me it meant that I had to wait for him to blink to see if he was still alive. This is a kind of character that I know can be done well, and this is not it.

As far as the rest of the cast goes, Carey Mulligan’s Irene was very much on par with Gosling’s in terms of actually having a character (that is, not really); the relationship between them wasn’t established enough to invest me in their story. Mad Men’s Christina Hendricks was given a small part, but unfortunately she was hardly used at all, playing a role that any actress could have played. The problem was not with the cast, but with the characters. I either just didn’t care or didn’t buy it. What a pity.

I honestly thought this was a straight-up bad film. At the time I saw it I may have used harsher words, but I’ll stick with “bad.” I just don’t get the love. Life goes on…

FINAL GRADE: C

FRIGHT NIGHT (2011)

DIRECTOR: Craig Gillespie

STARRING: Anton Yelchin, Colin Farrell, & Imogen Poots

There are many things that I love about the horror genre. One of them is that, unlike most other genres, it knows exactly when to not take itself too seriously. There is a word for this: camp. Camp is what was painfully missing from Cowboys & Aliens, but thankfully that experience was more than made up for with Fright Night, a remake of an old 80’s flick. I knew that this was one of those films that would either be great or awful, and although I admit I’d expected the latter, I was pleasantly surprised to be treated to a damn good time.

Fright Night focuses on Charley Brewster (Yelchin), a formerly geeky high school student living in a Las Vegas suburb. Having recently won the affections of dream girl Amy (Poots), Charley has been busy shunning his old life as a social outcast, including his childhood best friend. When that friend attempts to inform him that his new neighbor Jerry (Farrell) is actually a dangerous vampire, Charley initially scoffs — until he begins witnessing Jerry’s nighttime activities for himself. He attempts to protect himself, his mother, and Amy from the vamp’s predatory behavior, using all the classic tricks of the trade; however, he realizes that Jerry has been watching him as well, and that he won’t go down without a fight.

To say that a horror film is campy does not necessarily mean it’s not scary. In the case of Fright Night, the balance between humor and genuine creepiness is kept effectively taut. It might be easy to compare this to something like Zombieland, but this is a horse of a different color: Farrell’s Jerry is what makes the difference. I’m not usually a fan of him, but there’s no denying that it’s refreshing to see an old-school vamp back onscreen — by that, I mean, no Angel/Edward Cullen syndrome here. No brooding, no sensitivity, no repentance… no sparkles. He has the bad-boy seductiveness paired the ever-present awareness that he’d rip your throat out in a heartbeat and enjoy it. In case we’ve forgotten, this is what modern vampires are supposed to be. Remember? I’m looking at you, Stephanie Meyer. Thanks a lot.

Anton Yelchin, as Charley, is a nice addition to today’s average, everyman teenage heroes, both believable as a nerd and as a romancer of a girl like Amy. It’s a relief to not have to stomach an overly quick wit and endless one-liners; instead, he’s approachable, simple, and easily enjoyable. English actress Imogen Poots is further establishing herself as an annoyingly pretty actress who is also closer to the earth than many others her age; like Yelchin, she’s believable in her role — never too immaculately put-together, and appropriate as the “girlfriend” character. They pair together nicely.

It’s worth noting that the screenwriter, Marti Noxon, is also a former writer/producer on Buffy and dozens of other excellent shows. Way to go, lady.

It’s nice to be pleasantly surprised at the movie theatre every now and again — a fun ride, to say the least. Not worth wearing the 3D glasses for the occasional blood spatter, but regardless, all’s well in Fright Night.

FINAL GRADE: B+