Directed by Scott Teems
Starring Hal Holbrook, Mia Wasikowska, Carrie Preston, Raymond McKinnon
USA; Cannes market screening; Southern Drama; 109 minutes
Consider for a moment where in your life you place the greatest value. Go ahead, think about it. Is it you career? Or perhaps is it your family: your parents, your spouse or your children? Now, imagine that this most coveted and treasured aspect of your life is taken away from you. Such is the plight of Abner Meecham, the 80-something star of Scott Teams southern gothic drama “That Evening Sun.”
Abner, facing many of the difficulties associated with living alone at a mature age, is placed in an assisted living facility by his son. Quickly becoming unhappy and longing for the comforts of independent living, Abner escapes from the home and returns to his own, a farm in rural Tennessee. Upon his return, however, he is stunned to discover that his son has seemingly betrayed him by leasing the farm to Lonzo Choat, nothing more than an alcoholic red neck in Abner’s eyes. Being old and set in his ways, Abner refuses to accept the situation, so he moves into the old sharecropper’s residence on the property. A vicious power struggle ensues.
Set in rural Tennessee, this film’s aesthetic strength will strike viewers right from the start of the film. Wide shots of the landscape, coupled with close ups of objects associated with daily life on the farm, portray the rustic but charming qualities of the scene.
The director’s ability to showcase the grand scale of the land while also focusing on small details showcases the beauty and importance of the land to the film’s main characters, Abner and Lonzo. Although these men disagree on so many levels, they both share a deep appreciation for one core value in particular: land ownership. Abner wants this piece of land because he has worked his whole life to earn it. It’s the one thing he has left, and the last remaining tie he has to his deceased wife. Lonzo wants the land because he feels that by acquiring it he will prove himself as a husband, a father, and a man in society. These deeply rooted passions are what create the deep hate and resentment these men have toward each other.
One of the film’s greatest strength lies in its lead actor, Hal Holbrook, and his extraordinary ability to relate the film to viewers through his portrayal of Abner. We all know—or at least we’ve met—someone like Abner. He has a tough outer shell, but he is soft on the inside and shows an unexpected amount of heart. Holbrook gives a meaty but tender performance, an effortless balance between jackass and knight in shining armor.
There are several scenes in the film where Abner interacts with Lonzo’s daughter, and in each I witnessed an authentic exchange that plays itself out much like conversations I’ve had with my own grandfather. Abner gripes and complains, carrying on about the shortcomings of today’s youth, but he also offers positive advice and encouragement, revealing that companionate inner core. While these interactions do nothing to advance the plot of the film, they’re important for the development of the individual characters, and they build a sense of nostalgia in viewers for their own families.
Holbrook is also able to offer bits of much appreciated humor to the film. Most of these entertaining moments are delivered through actions his character Abner takes to infuriate Lonzo. Upon learning from his daughter that Lonzo hates dogs, Abner goes and finds one for himself. He even takes the time to train the animal to bark when he issues the command, “hush.” Even after Lonzo kills the animal and strings him up on Abner’s porch, he takes the body to the taxidermist and places the stuffed dog on his porch, just to spite Lonzo. Scenarios like these, and Abner’s numerous stabs at himself about being an old man, bring light to this dark drama.
The use of suspense and rising conflict create a tension in the film as dense as the humid Tennessee air. Let me paint a picture for you. It’s late, and the only audible sound is the constant dull hum of cicadas. We hear the shifting of gravel on the driveway, and soon Lonzo’s daughter arrives home with a boy we know her father openly disapproves. Lonzo storms out of the house, attacking the young man and chasing him off the property. Then he turns on his own daughter, beating her with the metal tip of a garden hose. When her mother steps in to help, she receives the brunt of his rage as well. Suddenly we hear a gunshot and see that Abner has come out of his home to protect the women. He and Lonzo face off, staring each other down as if their lives depended on it. The brutality of the violence and the intensity of the situation transports viewers right onto the farm and into the middle of the action.
This interaction brings forth another important theme in the film: commitment. Lonzo is committed to his family. Abner is committed to traditional values and maintaining his land. Lonzo’s wife is committed to her husband, and she stands up for his dignity when it is brought into question by Abner. All of these sentiments hold true with the southern gothic feel of the film, painting a clear picture of the way of life in rural Tennessee.
A critique of American culture is offered by “That Evening Sun” in its presentation of how children treat their parents in their older age. Throughout the course of the film, viewers come to love and sympathize with Abner, and they are left to wonder how his son could have betrayed him so deeply. With that said, far too often in America today the elderly population is disregarded as worthless and burdensome, and, in cases like Abner’s, they are sent away to retirement communities. A good film brings issues to light that need to be addressed. A great film makes us question ourselves and the ways that we operate in society. This film, in my mind, does the latter.
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
Film Review: "The Housemaid"
Directed by Sang-Soo Im
Starring Do-Youn Jeon, Jung-Lae Lee, Tuh-Jung Youn, Woo Seo
South Korea; Cannes, In Competition; Running time: 104 minutes
Sex. Wealth. Adultery. Abortion. Tradition. Attempted murder. Suicide. Such themes build the foundation on which South Korean director Sang-Soo Im presents his remarkable film, “The Housemaid.”
Eun-yi is a reserved young woman who enters the home of a wealthy family to serve as their maid and help raise their daughter. The master of the house becomes disinterested in his own pregnant wife, so he takes advantage of his superior social status and instigates an affair with Eun-yi. She becomes pregnant, and despite pressure to do otherwise, she is determined to keep her child. Before long, all members of the family become aware of the situation, and, for lack of a better phrase, all hell breaks loose. Not realizing that the wife has discovered her husband’s affair and forthcoming bastard child, nor the threat posed by the wife and her mother, Eun-yi decides to continue living in the home. The family demands Eun-yi have an abortion, and they do everything necessary to insure that her child is never born.
There are so many aspects of this film that are noteworthy, but above all this film is impeccably paced. Having seen nearly thirty films over the course of just ten days, as I have here in Cannes, I have often felt that certain films are drawn-out or seem to progress too slowly. And while pacing is an aspect of film that makes it hard to pinpoint excellence, frequent movie-goers just “know” when a film is fluid, when scenes don’t drag on too long and shots are cut at the right moment. In “The Housemaid,” this feeling of proper forward motion is omnipresent.
Going hand-in-hand with pacing is photography, and this film delivers in this arena as well. There’s a scene toward the end of the film showing Eun-yi in the hospital as she is suffering a miscarriage. The wife of the household and her mother have been slowly poisoning Eun-yi in order to effectively terminate her pregnancy, and the result of their wickedness has been realized. There’s one shot in particular where we see Eun-yi being intebated, and a single tear streams down her cheek; her face is illuminated by angelic, soft light, the source of which seems almost divine. In this moment, we witness every bit of angst suffered by this young woman, and we, as the audience, feel deeply for her. This emotive moment is created through thoughtful cinematography.
While the film’s creators shot with care and pieced the film together with skill, this film will resonate with audiences because it boasts a provocative and thrilling narrative to be showcased by these other elements. Through bits of dramatic irony, the audience learns of the affair and the wife’s sinister plans before the film’s characters. This creates a palpable tension as we watch characters tip-toe around, trying desperately not to get caught.
Human sensuality and luxuries of the wealthy play a very important role in the subtext of this film. The movie is set on the backdrop of a grand but chilling home, filled with white marble and accents of black and gray. Even the bedroom of the married couple is decorated in cool colors, reflective of their dispassionate marriage. During a scene in the film where they are being intimate, they talk to each other as if they are business associates in a meeting. Contrary are the warm tones associated with the flesh, as well as the food and wine presented throughout the film. The husband is clearly stimulated and entertained by physical intimacy, expensive wine, and good food, all readily available in his excessive lifestyle.
In my mind, one of the filmmaker’s major purposes in creating this film is to present a critique of the manner in which the wealthy live. There is a quote in the film where the wife’s mother tells here that “with a rich husband, cheating is part of the package.” She delivers this information with no sense of despair or disgust – it is simply the way things operate. In the film, however, we witness the intense pain and suffering endured when an individual pursues everything he desires without expected consequence. The husband wants Eun-yi because he is bored with his own wife, so he takes her. What he doesn’t realize is that this action of desire effectively leads to the destruction of this innocent character. An acronym offered by the older, more mature maid of the house, in my mind, sums up the filmmaker’s opinion of the upper class – RUNS: revolting, ugly, nauseating, shameful.
Cinema today is filled with scenes of physical intimacy; as we hear time and time again, “sex sells.” In this film, however, sex is presented and shot in an intriguing way that delivers the intended message effectively while maintaining a certain level of integrity and class. In one scene where Eun-yi and the husband are having intercourse, the camera remains static on an extreme close-up, and all we see is sweat-covered flesh repeatedly coming into contact. As adults, do don’t need to see anything more to grasp the situation – there is no need for more graphic imagery. After all, sex is, on a most basic level, about getting close to another individual, so positioning the camera close to the individuals only makes sense.
In the arena of filmmaking, especially on an international stage like the Cannes Film Festival, critics are always barking that filmmakers should stay true to their country of origin and make films that reflect where their cultural heritage. In the case of “The Housemaid,” the director incorporates elements of the traditional sentiment in Asian culture that individuals should mask their feelings and maintain a certain level of discretion and formality at all time. In the film, this idea is expressed in the phrase “be a rock.” This is spoken by the wife’s mother in reference to how she should behave in the midst of her family turmoil. While Eun-yi, breaking from the traditional mold in so many ways, expresses her feelings honestly, the understanding in the world of her upper class superiors is that this is not acceptable behavior.
Sex. Wealth. Adultery. Abortion. Tradition. Attempted murder. Suicide. These elements build a platform on which filmmaker Sang-Soo Im showcases a tragic drama and compelling critique of the rich in “The Housemaid.” This story is portrayed beautifully on the screen, and Im’s contribution to international cinema certainly should not go unnoticed.
Starring Do-Youn Jeon, Jung-Lae Lee, Tuh-Jung Youn, Woo Seo
South Korea; Cannes, In Competition; Running time: 104 minutes
Sex. Wealth. Adultery. Abortion. Tradition. Attempted murder. Suicide. Such themes build the foundation on which South Korean director Sang-Soo Im presents his remarkable film, “The Housemaid.”
Eun-yi is a reserved young woman who enters the home of a wealthy family to serve as their maid and help raise their daughter. The master of the house becomes disinterested in his own pregnant wife, so he takes advantage of his superior social status and instigates an affair with Eun-yi. She becomes pregnant, and despite pressure to do otherwise, she is determined to keep her child. Before long, all members of the family become aware of the situation, and, for lack of a better phrase, all hell breaks loose. Not realizing that the wife has discovered her husband’s affair and forthcoming bastard child, nor the threat posed by the wife and her mother, Eun-yi decides to continue living in the home. The family demands Eun-yi have an abortion, and they do everything necessary to insure that her child is never born.
There are so many aspects of this film that are noteworthy, but above all this film is impeccably paced. Having seen nearly thirty films over the course of just ten days, as I have here in Cannes, I have often felt that certain films are drawn-out or seem to progress too slowly. And while pacing is an aspect of film that makes it hard to pinpoint excellence, frequent movie-goers just “know” when a film is fluid, when scenes don’t drag on too long and shots are cut at the right moment. In “The Housemaid,” this feeling of proper forward motion is omnipresent.
Going hand-in-hand with pacing is photography, and this film delivers in this arena as well. There’s a scene toward the end of the film showing Eun-yi in the hospital as she is suffering a miscarriage. The wife of the household and her mother have been slowly poisoning Eun-yi in order to effectively terminate her pregnancy, and the result of their wickedness has been realized. There’s one shot in particular where we see Eun-yi being intebated, and a single tear streams down her cheek; her face is illuminated by angelic, soft light, the source of which seems almost divine. In this moment, we witness every bit of angst suffered by this young woman, and we, as the audience, feel deeply for her. This emotive moment is created through thoughtful cinematography.
While the film’s creators shot with care and pieced the film together with skill, this film will resonate with audiences because it boasts a provocative and thrilling narrative to be showcased by these other elements. Through bits of dramatic irony, the audience learns of the affair and the wife’s sinister plans before the film’s characters. This creates a palpable tension as we watch characters tip-toe around, trying desperately not to get caught.
Human sensuality and luxuries of the wealthy play a very important role in the subtext of this film. The movie is set on the backdrop of a grand but chilling home, filled with white marble and accents of black and gray. Even the bedroom of the married couple is decorated in cool colors, reflective of their dispassionate marriage. During a scene in the film where they are being intimate, they talk to each other as if they are business associates in a meeting. Contrary are the warm tones associated with the flesh, as well as the food and wine presented throughout the film. The husband is clearly stimulated and entertained by physical intimacy, expensive wine, and good food, all readily available in his excessive lifestyle.
In my mind, one of the filmmaker’s major purposes in creating this film is to present a critique of the manner in which the wealthy live. There is a quote in the film where the wife’s mother tells here that “with a rich husband, cheating is part of the package.” She delivers this information with no sense of despair or disgust – it is simply the way things operate. In the film, however, we witness the intense pain and suffering endured when an individual pursues everything he desires without expected consequence. The husband wants Eun-yi because he is bored with his own wife, so he takes her. What he doesn’t realize is that this action of desire effectively leads to the destruction of this innocent character. An acronym offered by the older, more mature maid of the house, in my mind, sums up the filmmaker’s opinion of the upper class – RUNS: revolting, ugly, nauseating, shameful.
Cinema today is filled with scenes of physical intimacy; as we hear time and time again, “sex sells.” In this film, however, sex is presented and shot in an intriguing way that delivers the intended message effectively while maintaining a certain level of integrity and class. In one scene where Eun-yi and the husband are having intercourse, the camera remains static on an extreme close-up, and all we see is sweat-covered flesh repeatedly coming into contact. As adults, do don’t need to see anything more to grasp the situation – there is no need for more graphic imagery. After all, sex is, on a most basic level, about getting close to another individual, so positioning the camera close to the individuals only makes sense.
In the arena of filmmaking, especially on an international stage like the Cannes Film Festival, critics are always barking that filmmakers should stay true to their country of origin and make films that reflect where their cultural heritage. In the case of “The Housemaid,” the director incorporates elements of the traditional sentiment in Asian culture that individuals should mask their feelings and maintain a certain level of discretion and formality at all time. In the film, this idea is expressed in the phrase “be a rock.” This is spoken by the wife’s mother in reference to how she should behave in the midst of her family turmoil. While Eun-yi, breaking from the traditional mold in so many ways, expresses her feelings honestly, the understanding in the world of her upper class superiors is that this is not acceptable behavior.
Sex. Wealth. Adultery. Abortion. Tradition. Attempted murder. Suicide. These elements build a platform on which filmmaker Sang-Soo Im showcases a tragic drama and compelling critique of the rich in “The Housemaid.” This story is portrayed beautifully on the screen, and Im’s contribution to international cinema certainly should not go unnoticed.
Saturday, May 22, 2010
Film Review: “Des Hommes Et Des Dieux” (“Of Gods and Men”)
Directed by Xavier Beauvois
Starring Lambert Wilson, Michael Lonsdale, Oliver Rabourdin, Roschdy Zem, Sabrina Ouazani
Running time: 123 minutes
Imagine for a moment that you are a Christian monk. It may be difficult, I know, but indulge me for a moment. So, imagine you are a monk, and the community you live in is being threatened by terrorists. Your own life is being threatened by terrorists. The government and many of your fellow monks are pressuring you to leave. But you have made a commitment to serve the people of your community. Above that, you have made a commitment to God. What do you decide to do? Do you leave and spare your own life, or do you stay put and face your enemies head on?
Such questions are asked in Xavier Beauvois’ masterpiece “Of Gods and Men.” Much of what the film tries to accomplish, I think, is to examine how the characters in the film respond to these questions. In addition, viewers are provoked to ask themselves many of the same questions. Does one’s personal duty take priority? See the film and decide for yourself.
What makes this film so marvelous is how all of its elements are woven together to create a full, rich movie-going experience. The shots support the action in the film. The script entertains, informs, and provokes. The action builds suspense and carries the story. Powerful but quiet performances build emotional buy in to the film. In my mind, it would be quite difficult to punch a hole in this film.
The film begins with primarily long, smooth shots that reflect the daily life of the monks, the film’s main characters. Life in a monastery is slow-paced, filled with domestic duties and time spent in prayer and fellowship. When contrasted with a busy life in the city – where a filmmaker might chose to utilize shorter shots and a faster pace – the decision to let the shot composition work hand in hand with the actual experience of the characters is genius. Also, the actions portrayed in the shots establish daily life in the community. We see one monk serving patients in a clinic; we see another monk sowing seeds in the ground. We are led to feel as if we are a part of this community and we are involved in the daily events.
There are a few graphic murders witnessed by viewers in the film. Unlike many productions, however, in this case the violence is not excessive but instead necessary to the story. It is important to illustrate the deadly potential of the terrorists and the threat they pose to the monastery and surrounding community.
There is a powerful scene in the film when the monks must deal with their terrorist adversaries face to face. It is dark, and the monastery and surrounding community is silent. The monks are preparing to turn in for the night. Suddenly, the terrorists approach the doors of the monastery demanding medical supplies; their weapons are drawn. The monk’s leader, Christian (Wilson), demands that the radicals step outside the gate, and he persuades them to leave. The intensity in his face and the commanding power of his voice portray clearly how passionate and dedicated he is to serving the people of his community. He is able to defend his people and keep his adversaries at bay – for the time being.
As I mentioned, the primary ethical questions that arises in this film is whether, as a monk or as a normal human being, one is bound to his duties to fellow man or whether he should pursue his own personal safety. While many of the older members of the monastery see no reason to risk their lives, a local member of the community presents a telling metaphor: the members of the community rely on the monks like birds on a wire. If you take away the wire, you take away all stability and normality.
Another difficult ethical dilemma presented in the film is how we treat our adversaries. Christian is accused of sympathizing with the terrorists because he is willing to talk to them and shake their hand. Even in the way the film is shot, viewers are led to feel for the terrorists at times. For example, in the scene where the terrorists invade the community at night, the group’s leader has a small but almost tragic twinkle in his eye, and the desperation on his face speaks so loudly, even if he doesn’t say anything at all.
There are bits of humor infused into the story that are appreciated. After Christian gives a small sermon to the monks, one remarks to another in a sarcastic tone, “did you understand the message today?” The other monks response: “fuck you.” In addition, ironic comments like “hope [to survive the terrorists’ threats] doesn’t interest journalists” are appropriate and lighten the tone of the film.
In addition to adding humor, the script is excellent at developing each of the characters throughout the film. We see Christian’s struggles with leading the other monks. We understand one monk’s struggles with faith and seeing God in a fallen world. We empathize with a much older monk who is battling with his health. By the end, we feel invested in each character and we feel as if we know them individually.
Music also plays a very important part in the story. Throughout the film, scenes are inserted where we witness the monks worshiping together and singing traditional music. This builds a sense of community amongst the monastery and reminds us that in all of their struggles these men turn to each other and to God for guidance. Even amidst the turmoil of the film, we feel calmed by the music that these scenes provide.
The most remarkable aspects of this film can be found what it does not include. While the action may not always progress rapidly, the audience’s attention is never lost. In scenes that might feel the need to fill with dialogue, silence is much more powerful. In a situation where an outburst of emotion may seem appropriate, a single tear streaming down an individual’s face says so much more. Silence can be golden, and this film is a clear illustration of this concept.
Of the more than 25 films that I’ve seen this year at the Cannes Film Festival, this one ranks among my top three. It says so much more than most of the films I’ve seen by saying so much less.
Starring Lambert Wilson, Michael Lonsdale, Oliver Rabourdin, Roschdy Zem, Sabrina Ouazani
Running time: 123 minutes
Imagine for a moment that you are a Christian monk. It may be difficult, I know, but indulge me for a moment. So, imagine you are a monk, and the community you live in is being threatened by terrorists. Your own life is being threatened by terrorists. The government and many of your fellow monks are pressuring you to leave. But you have made a commitment to serve the people of your community. Above that, you have made a commitment to God. What do you decide to do? Do you leave and spare your own life, or do you stay put and face your enemies head on?
Such questions are asked in Xavier Beauvois’ masterpiece “Of Gods and Men.” Much of what the film tries to accomplish, I think, is to examine how the characters in the film respond to these questions. In addition, viewers are provoked to ask themselves many of the same questions. Does one’s personal duty take priority? See the film and decide for yourself.
What makes this film so marvelous is how all of its elements are woven together to create a full, rich movie-going experience. The shots support the action in the film. The script entertains, informs, and provokes. The action builds suspense and carries the story. Powerful but quiet performances build emotional buy in to the film. In my mind, it would be quite difficult to punch a hole in this film.
The film begins with primarily long, smooth shots that reflect the daily life of the monks, the film’s main characters. Life in a monastery is slow-paced, filled with domestic duties and time spent in prayer and fellowship. When contrasted with a busy life in the city – where a filmmaker might chose to utilize shorter shots and a faster pace – the decision to let the shot composition work hand in hand with the actual experience of the characters is genius. Also, the actions portrayed in the shots establish daily life in the community. We see one monk serving patients in a clinic; we see another monk sowing seeds in the ground. We are led to feel as if we are a part of this community and we are involved in the daily events.
There are a few graphic murders witnessed by viewers in the film. Unlike many productions, however, in this case the violence is not excessive but instead necessary to the story. It is important to illustrate the deadly potential of the terrorists and the threat they pose to the monastery and surrounding community.
There is a powerful scene in the film when the monks must deal with their terrorist adversaries face to face. It is dark, and the monastery and surrounding community is silent. The monks are preparing to turn in for the night. Suddenly, the terrorists approach the doors of the monastery demanding medical supplies; their weapons are drawn. The monk’s leader, Christian (Wilson), demands that the radicals step outside the gate, and he persuades them to leave. The intensity in his face and the commanding power of his voice portray clearly how passionate and dedicated he is to serving the people of his community. He is able to defend his people and keep his adversaries at bay – for the time being.
As I mentioned, the primary ethical questions that arises in this film is whether, as a monk or as a normal human being, one is bound to his duties to fellow man or whether he should pursue his own personal safety. While many of the older members of the monastery see no reason to risk their lives, a local member of the community presents a telling metaphor: the members of the community rely on the monks like birds on a wire. If you take away the wire, you take away all stability and normality.
Another difficult ethical dilemma presented in the film is how we treat our adversaries. Christian is accused of sympathizing with the terrorists because he is willing to talk to them and shake their hand. Even in the way the film is shot, viewers are led to feel for the terrorists at times. For example, in the scene where the terrorists invade the community at night, the group’s leader has a small but almost tragic twinkle in his eye, and the desperation on his face speaks so loudly, even if he doesn’t say anything at all.
There are bits of humor infused into the story that are appreciated. After Christian gives a small sermon to the monks, one remarks to another in a sarcastic tone, “did you understand the message today?” The other monks response: “fuck you.” In addition, ironic comments like “hope [to survive the terrorists’ threats] doesn’t interest journalists” are appropriate and lighten the tone of the film.
In addition to adding humor, the script is excellent at developing each of the characters throughout the film. We see Christian’s struggles with leading the other monks. We understand one monk’s struggles with faith and seeing God in a fallen world. We empathize with a much older monk who is battling with his health. By the end, we feel invested in each character and we feel as if we know them individually.
Music also plays a very important part in the story. Throughout the film, scenes are inserted where we witness the monks worshiping together and singing traditional music. This builds a sense of community amongst the monastery and reminds us that in all of their struggles these men turn to each other and to God for guidance. Even amidst the turmoil of the film, we feel calmed by the music that these scenes provide.
The most remarkable aspects of this film can be found what it does not include. While the action may not always progress rapidly, the audience’s attention is never lost. In scenes that might feel the need to fill with dialogue, silence is much more powerful. In a situation where an outburst of emotion may seem appropriate, a single tear streaming down an individual’s face says so much more. Silence can be golden, and this film is a clear illustration of this concept.
Of the more than 25 films that I’ve seen this year at the Cannes Film Festival, this one ranks among my top three. It says so much more than most of the films I’ve seen by saying so much less.
Film Review: "The African Queen"
Directed by John Huston
Starring Katharine Hepburn and Humphrey Bogart
Running time: 105 minutes
Rose is standing on the edge of the boat; a parasol protects her from the sun. With an emotionless face, she pour bottle after bottle of gin into the river. Her travel partner Charlie wakes up, still drunk from the night before, and is mortified by what he sees. An inevitable quarrel begins. Such is the relationship between this film’s odd but endearing couple.
“The African Queen” embodies perfectly what is meant when someone refers to a “classic film.” It involves an epic adventure that ends in victory. It follows two unique individuals who begin the film at odds but along the way they fall in love. Above all, however, this film is worth of the title “classic” because it boasts strong performances from two of old Hollywood’s most legendary actors, Katharine Hepburn and Humphrey Bogart.
Rose Sayer (Hepburn) has lived in East Africa as a missionary with her brother for nearly a decade when World War I breaks out. Their village is burned and their congregation is taken off to war, and her brother is driven to insanity. He soon passes away, and in sweeps steamboat captain Charlie Allnut (Bogart) to save the day. Charlie and Rose, quite the unlikely pair, decide to journey down the river and take on the Germans to escape war-torn Africa.
Among the greatest onscreen parings of all time – Gable and Lee, Rogers and Astaire, just to name a few — Hepburn and Bogart should certainly be remembered. Their chemistry onscreen is electric. Hepburn plays a conservative, unmarried, Godly woman who typifies all things proper. Bogart plays a rough and tumble guy who loves the bottle more than just about anything else. Along their journey, they meet somewhere in the middle, and a wonderful relationship forms.
Cinema today is full of cliché relationships with unbelievable pairings. Such is not the case in this film – these character’s qualities simultaneously make them the most impossible and most believable couple you have ever encountered. It only makes sense that a holy roller would fall for a gin-soaked ship captain. It only makes sense that a stubborn man would fall for a woman that challenges him and strives to change his ways.
Bogart and Hepburn’s performances are spectacular, both worthy of individual praise. Bogart’s portrayal of Charlie is hard and soft, sarcastic and compassionate, and at times, simply hilarious. He’s able to quip at Hepburn, calling her an “old maid,” and minutes later he is trying every trick in the book to win back her affections. When compared to a much more romantic and polished performance in “Casablanca” and the “good cop” roles he played in films like “The Maltese Falcon,” this film certainly stands out as a unique role in Bogart’s career. He won the Academy Award for this performance, and it was certainly well-deserved.
Hepburn, the ying to Bogart’s yang, plays Rose in one of the many memorable performances of her career. When their journey begins, Hepburn’s formal and polite way of behaving is almost exhausting. The number of times and manner in which she says his name, “Mr. Awe-Nuh” – in a voice only Kate herself could deliver – becomes tiresome but hilarious. Literally every time she speaks to Charlie she uses a formal address. In the moments when her eyes are welling with tears, in the moments when she’s laughing, in the moments when she is bossing Bogart around, Katharine Hepburn is, as always, captivating. The subtlety of her performance, the amount she’s able to communicate on the screen without saying anything, is truly incredible. That would explain why Hepburn received her 5th of 12 career Oscar nominations for this performance – she would up receive the Academy Award 4 times during her career.
Director John Hughes, responsible for titles such as “The Treasure of the Sierra Madre” and “The Maltese Falcon,” certainly delivers with this production of “The African Queen.” The majority of the film was shot on location in Africa, so genuine footage of the river, the foliage that surrounds it, and teams of indigenous animals – lions and elephants and hippos, oh my! – gives the film an authentic feel.
The screenplay, and particularly the back-and-forth dialogue between Hepburn and Bogart, is well-paced and entertaining. The primary reason it’s memorable, however, is because it allows the film’s stars to shine. After traveling over a patch of rapids on the river, Rose says it was the most “stimulating physical experience” of her life. I think you catch my drift. After spending several days on the river with Charlie, and after sharing their first kiss, Rose asks the ironic question, “dear, what’s your first name?” Bits of humor like this help to draw viewers closer to the characters, and when such legendary actors as Hepburn and Bogart are playing the parts, the effect is even stronger.
Regardless of what year a film was made, if you personally have never seen it before, it’s new to you. Robert Osborne shared that bit of information with me, and I hope you will keep it in mind and decide to travel down the river with 1951’s “The African Queen.”
Starring Katharine Hepburn and Humphrey Bogart
Running time: 105 minutes
Rose is standing on the edge of the boat; a parasol protects her from the sun. With an emotionless face, she pour bottle after bottle of gin into the river. Her travel partner Charlie wakes up, still drunk from the night before, and is mortified by what he sees. An inevitable quarrel begins. Such is the relationship between this film’s odd but endearing couple.
“The African Queen” embodies perfectly what is meant when someone refers to a “classic film.” It involves an epic adventure that ends in victory. It follows two unique individuals who begin the film at odds but along the way they fall in love. Above all, however, this film is worth of the title “classic” because it boasts strong performances from two of old Hollywood’s most legendary actors, Katharine Hepburn and Humphrey Bogart.
Rose Sayer (Hepburn) has lived in East Africa as a missionary with her brother for nearly a decade when World War I breaks out. Their village is burned and their congregation is taken off to war, and her brother is driven to insanity. He soon passes away, and in sweeps steamboat captain Charlie Allnut (Bogart) to save the day. Charlie and Rose, quite the unlikely pair, decide to journey down the river and take on the Germans to escape war-torn Africa.
Among the greatest onscreen parings of all time – Gable and Lee, Rogers and Astaire, just to name a few — Hepburn and Bogart should certainly be remembered. Their chemistry onscreen is electric. Hepburn plays a conservative, unmarried, Godly woman who typifies all things proper. Bogart plays a rough and tumble guy who loves the bottle more than just about anything else. Along their journey, they meet somewhere in the middle, and a wonderful relationship forms.
Cinema today is full of cliché relationships with unbelievable pairings. Such is not the case in this film – these character’s qualities simultaneously make them the most impossible and most believable couple you have ever encountered. It only makes sense that a holy roller would fall for a gin-soaked ship captain. It only makes sense that a stubborn man would fall for a woman that challenges him and strives to change his ways.
Bogart and Hepburn’s performances are spectacular, both worthy of individual praise. Bogart’s portrayal of Charlie is hard and soft, sarcastic and compassionate, and at times, simply hilarious. He’s able to quip at Hepburn, calling her an “old maid,” and minutes later he is trying every trick in the book to win back her affections. When compared to a much more romantic and polished performance in “Casablanca” and the “good cop” roles he played in films like “The Maltese Falcon,” this film certainly stands out as a unique role in Bogart’s career. He won the Academy Award for this performance, and it was certainly well-deserved.
Hepburn, the ying to Bogart’s yang, plays Rose in one of the many memorable performances of her career. When their journey begins, Hepburn’s formal and polite way of behaving is almost exhausting. The number of times and manner in which she says his name, “Mr. Awe-Nuh” – in a voice only Kate herself could deliver – becomes tiresome but hilarious. Literally every time she speaks to Charlie she uses a formal address. In the moments when her eyes are welling with tears, in the moments when she’s laughing, in the moments when she is bossing Bogart around, Katharine Hepburn is, as always, captivating. The subtlety of her performance, the amount she’s able to communicate on the screen without saying anything, is truly incredible. That would explain why Hepburn received her 5th of 12 career Oscar nominations for this performance – she would up receive the Academy Award 4 times during her career.
Director John Hughes, responsible for titles such as “The Treasure of the Sierra Madre” and “The Maltese Falcon,” certainly delivers with this production of “The African Queen.” The majority of the film was shot on location in Africa, so genuine footage of the river, the foliage that surrounds it, and teams of indigenous animals – lions and elephants and hippos, oh my! – gives the film an authentic feel.
The screenplay, and particularly the back-and-forth dialogue between Hepburn and Bogart, is well-paced and entertaining. The primary reason it’s memorable, however, is because it allows the film’s stars to shine. After traveling over a patch of rapids on the river, Rose says it was the most “stimulating physical experience” of her life. I think you catch my drift. After spending several days on the river with Charlie, and after sharing their first kiss, Rose asks the ironic question, “dear, what’s your first name?” Bits of humor like this help to draw viewers closer to the characters, and when such legendary actors as Hepburn and Bogart are playing the parts, the effect is even stronger.
Regardless of what year a film was made, if you personally have never seen it before, it’s new to you. Robert Osborne shared that bit of information with me, and I hope you will keep it in mind and decide to travel down the river with 1951’s “The African Queen.”
Monday, May 17, 2010
Film Review: "The Kids Are All Right"
“The Kids Are All Right”
Comedy; USA; 104 minutes
Directed by Lisa Cholodenko
Starring Annette Bening, Julianne Moore, Mark Ruffalo, Mia Wasikowska, Josh Hutcherson
A film review by Blake Mitchell
Marriage is hard. And raising children isn’t exactly a walk in the park either. At least, that’s what I’m told. This truth applies to all couples and families, including the Allgoods, a modern family led by a long-time committed lesbian couple. At first glance, this film may seem as if its purpose is to desensitize viewers to gay marriage and child rearing. And while it may do that, what makes this film unique is – unlike films like “Brokeback Mountain” – it shows how most gay couples actually live. It shows the good; it shows the bad; it shows everything in between.
The film follows Nic (Bening) and Jules (Moore) and their two children, Joni and Laser. Joni (Wasikowski) is a smart, articulate young woman who is preparing to leave for college. Laser (Hutcherson) is a sensitive guy who is dealing with all the typical issues of a 15-year-old boy. They are normal kids with normal issues. Their interaction with their parents is also in no way out of the ordinary, except that they refer to them as their “moms.”
It’s evident from the beginning of the film that both Joni and Laser have an interest in meeting their biological father Paul (Ruffalo). Paul has not been involved in their lives previously, so against their mothers’ wishes they arrange a meeting with him. Ultimately, reaching out to Paul comes at the expense of their family’s stability.
Paul affects the life of each family member in a unique way, but his interaction with Jules is of particular interest. Jules turns to Paul when she feels that her own spouse Nic is not supportive of her ambition to be a landscape architect. Oddly enough, there is a clear sexual tension between Paul and Jules, and before long their interactions begin to test the strength of this family.
This film is refreshing because it doesn’t try to paint a perfect picture of gay marriage. Instead, it communicates to viewers that homosexual marriages are no different than heterosexual marriages. Nic and Jules fight; they struggle with communication; they are tempted; they get their feelings hurt and make rude comments to each other; and their kids get embarrassed by them.
While Julianne Moore and the supporting actors deliver memorable performances, Annette Bening steals the film with her hilarious and emotional portrayal of Nic, a type-A physician and mother who communicates her criticisms perfectly with a simple squint of her eyes. Bening’s uptight character Nic is the ying to her wife Jules’ much-more-relaxed yang, giving their relationship a wonderful balance.
Bening delivers her snarky dialogue effortlessly, and her sass offers a great deal of comedy to the film. My personal favorite line in the film comes when Paul tries to offer Nic parenting advice and she snaps back, “I need your observations like I need a dick in my ass!”
In the end, as a woman deeply offended and bruised, Bening’s outpour of emotion will captivate audiences and communicate the couple’s struggles clearly.
A pleasant surprise will be found in young actress Mia Wasikowski who plays Joni, the older daughter. Wasikowski, who has recently starred in “That Evening Sun” and Tim Burton’s “Alice in Wonderland”, certainly holds her own in this film next to much more seasoned actors. Her portrayal of Joni, a kind-hearted – and sometimes rebellious – daughter, seeking her mothers’ approval, is genuine and heartfelt.
The script, crafted by Stuart Blumberg and director Lisa Cholodenko, is well-written, well-paced, and witty, showcasing the complex family relationships and dynamics present in the film.
Let me be frank: I think we all know that being a gay parent is tough, exacerbated by the fact that many people don’t think homosexuals can be legitimate parents pr form legitimate families. Having comedic dialogue allows characters to lighten the mood while skirting sensitive issues. In addition, phrases like “you think I’m just a sad sack middle-aged lesbian” are not only funny but also allow characters to poke fun at themselves.
If you’re searching for a cinematic masterpiece, full of deep meaning and perfect construction, you’re looking in the wrong place. What this film delivers is a comedic look at the life of one atypical American family. It evokes emotion and it delivers laughs. For a different and rewarding trip to the cinema, I recommend “The Kids Are All Right.”
Comedy; USA; 104 minutes
Directed by Lisa Cholodenko
Starring Annette Bening, Julianne Moore, Mark Ruffalo, Mia Wasikowska, Josh Hutcherson
A film review by Blake Mitchell
Marriage is hard. And raising children isn’t exactly a walk in the park either. At least, that’s what I’m told. This truth applies to all couples and families, including the Allgoods, a modern family led by a long-time committed lesbian couple. At first glance, this film may seem as if its purpose is to desensitize viewers to gay marriage and child rearing. And while it may do that, what makes this film unique is – unlike films like “Brokeback Mountain” – it shows how most gay couples actually live. It shows the good; it shows the bad; it shows everything in between.
The film follows Nic (Bening) and Jules (Moore) and their two children, Joni and Laser. Joni (Wasikowski) is a smart, articulate young woman who is preparing to leave for college. Laser (Hutcherson) is a sensitive guy who is dealing with all the typical issues of a 15-year-old boy. They are normal kids with normal issues. Their interaction with their parents is also in no way out of the ordinary, except that they refer to them as their “moms.”
It’s evident from the beginning of the film that both Joni and Laser have an interest in meeting their biological father Paul (Ruffalo). Paul has not been involved in their lives previously, so against their mothers’ wishes they arrange a meeting with him. Ultimately, reaching out to Paul comes at the expense of their family’s stability.
Paul affects the life of each family member in a unique way, but his interaction with Jules is of particular interest. Jules turns to Paul when she feels that her own spouse Nic is not supportive of her ambition to be a landscape architect. Oddly enough, there is a clear sexual tension between Paul and Jules, and before long their interactions begin to test the strength of this family.
This film is refreshing because it doesn’t try to paint a perfect picture of gay marriage. Instead, it communicates to viewers that homosexual marriages are no different than heterosexual marriages. Nic and Jules fight; they struggle with communication; they are tempted; they get their feelings hurt and make rude comments to each other; and their kids get embarrassed by them.
While Julianne Moore and the supporting actors deliver memorable performances, Annette Bening steals the film with her hilarious and emotional portrayal of Nic, a type-A physician and mother who communicates her criticisms perfectly with a simple squint of her eyes. Bening’s uptight character Nic is the ying to her wife Jules’ much-more-relaxed yang, giving their relationship a wonderful balance.
Bening delivers her snarky dialogue effortlessly, and her sass offers a great deal of comedy to the film. My personal favorite line in the film comes when Paul tries to offer Nic parenting advice and she snaps back, “I need your observations like I need a dick in my ass!”
In the end, as a woman deeply offended and bruised, Bening’s outpour of emotion will captivate audiences and communicate the couple’s struggles clearly.
A pleasant surprise will be found in young actress Mia Wasikowski who plays Joni, the older daughter. Wasikowski, who has recently starred in “That Evening Sun” and Tim Burton’s “Alice in Wonderland”, certainly holds her own in this film next to much more seasoned actors. Her portrayal of Joni, a kind-hearted – and sometimes rebellious – daughter, seeking her mothers’ approval, is genuine and heartfelt.
The script, crafted by Stuart Blumberg and director Lisa Cholodenko, is well-written, well-paced, and witty, showcasing the complex family relationships and dynamics present in the film.
Let me be frank: I think we all know that being a gay parent is tough, exacerbated by the fact that many people don’t think homosexuals can be legitimate parents pr form legitimate families. Having comedic dialogue allows characters to lighten the mood while skirting sensitive issues. In addition, phrases like “you think I’m just a sad sack middle-aged lesbian” are not only funny but also allow characters to poke fun at themselves.
If you’re searching for a cinematic masterpiece, full of deep meaning and perfect construction, you’re looking in the wrong place. What this film delivers is a comedic look at the life of one atypical American family. It evokes emotion and it delivers laughs. For a different and rewarding trip to the cinema, I recommend “The Kids Are All Right.”
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Film Review: "Crazy Heart"
May 4, 2010
Directed by Scott Cooper
Starring: Jeff Bridges and Maggie Gyllenhaal, with Colin Farrell and Robert Duvall
Trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y0349E7kFEM
“Never too late, son—never too late"
“Crazy Heart" is a story about redemption, a story about new beginnings. Musician Bad Blake (Bridges) is a washed-up has-been who lets his addiction to alcohol cause his life to spiral out of control. Once a big-time country music star, Bad's career has been reduced to gigs in bowling alleys and dive bars throughout the Midwest. Bad needs a fresh start.
Bad Blake--flawlessly portrayed by Jeff Bridges in an Academy Award-winning performance--is reserved but outspoken; he loves to joke but seems almost self-conscious; he's bitter and troubled but compassionate and caring. This dichotomy could only be balanced with a performance as strong as Bridges'. We see Bad's inner struggle, his resistance but simultaneous desire to change. More than anything, though, we see that he needs help.
Into Bad's dark, smoky hotel room and fragile life walks Jane Craddock (Gyllenhaal) and the entire game changes. Jane is a strong, sentimental lady who comes to Bad for an interview and leaves a woman in love. Jane brings baggage of her own to the table, most notably her son Buddy who happens to be the cutest child to grace the silver screen since “Jerry Maguire." Bad finds in Jane a sense of stability, a sense of home. Jane finds in Bad a father figure for her son and a strong arm to hold her at night.
Despite his clear love for Jane and Buddy, Bad lets his addiction drive him to rock bottom, and after an automobile accident and losing 4-year-old Buddy while he's drunk, Jane has had enough. It takes losing everything important in his life to realize that he needs help.
Maggie Gyllenhaal's Academy Award-nominated performance in this film packs a punch that might have fared better on Oscar night had it not been up against Mo'nique in “Precious" and Vera Farmiga in “Up in the Air." Gyllenhaal holds her own next to seasoned actor Jeff Bridges, and there is certainly something to be said for that feat.
This film is beautifully photographed, although it's hard not to be when you shoot with the phenomenal backdrop of the Midwest. The slow pans through the landscape seem to represent a sense of roaming, perhaps reflective of Bad's lifestyle and search for a new life.
Another key element in this film is its music. “The Weary Kind," written for the film, took home the Oscar for best original song. Throughout the film, music not only contributes to the story, but it also serves to give the audience a look inside Bad's complicated and multi-faceted persona.
Overall, I think the film is fantastic. I'm particularly fond of films that tell real stories about real people, and although it may be difficult to watch Bad's self-destruction, the film presents itself in such a way that you can't help but sympathize. With strong performances, great music, and a powerful message, “Crazy Heart" is a must-see.
Directed by Scott Cooper
Starring: Jeff Bridges and Maggie Gyllenhaal, with Colin Farrell and Robert Duvall
Trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y0349E7kFEM
“Never too late, son—never too late"
“Crazy Heart" is a story about redemption, a story about new beginnings. Musician Bad Blake (Bridges) is a washed-up has-been who lets his addiction to alcohol cause his life to spiral out of control. Once a big-time country music star, Bad's career has been reduced to gigs in bowling alleys and dive bars throughout the Midwest. Bad needs a fresh start.
Bad Blake--flawlessly portrayed by Jeff Bridges in an Academy Award-winning performance--is reserved but outspoken; he loves to joke but seems almost self-conscious; he's bitter and troubled but compassionate and caring. This dichotomy could only be balanced with a performance as strong as Bridges'. We see Bad's inner struggle, his resistance but simultaneous desire to change. More than anything, though, we see that he needs help.
Into Bad's dark, smoky hotel room and fragile life walks Jane Craddock (Gyllenhaal) and the entire game changes. Jane is a strong, sentimental lady who comes to Bad for an interview and leaves a woman in love. Jane brings baggage of her own to the table, most notably her son Buddy who happens to be the cutest child to grace the silver screen since “Jerry Maguire." Bad finds in Jane a sense of stability, a sense of home. Jane finds in Bad a father figure for her son and a strong arm to hold her at night.
Despite his clear love for Jane and Buddy, Bad lets his addiction drive him to rock bottom, and after an automobile accident and losing 4-year-old Buddy while he's drunk, Jane has had enough. It takes losing everything important in his life to realize that he needs help.
Maggie Gyllenhaal's Academy Award-nominated performance in this film packs a punch that might have fared better on Oscar night had it not been up against Mo'nique in “Precious" and Vera Farmiga in “Up in the Air." Gyllenhaal holds her own next to seasoned actor Jeff Bridges, and there is certainly something to be said for that feat.
This film is beautifully photographed, although it's hard not to be when you shoot with the phenomenal backdrop of the Midwest. The slow pans through the landscape seem to represent a sense of roaming, perhaps reflective of Bad's lifestyle and search for a new life.
Another key element in this film is its music. “The Weary Kind," written for the film, took home the Oscar for best original song. Throughout the film, music not only contributes to the story, but it also serves to give the audience a look inside Bad's complicated and multi-faceted persona.
Overall, I think the film is fantastic. I'm particularly fond of films that tell real stories about real people, and although it may be difficult to watch Bad's self-destruction, the film presents itself in such a way that you can't help but sympathize. With strong performances, great music, and a powerful message, “Crazy Heart" is a must-see.
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