What Lies Ahead

Soooo... how come no one has commented on the new banner? ;)

In many ways, it doesn't really depress me that I've only squeezed out six blog entries since my (overkill) Oscar ceremony afterthoughts way back in February. In fact, I'm rather surprised that I was able to post that many; for an example of my no-flourish composition lately, I've barely been able to write e-mails to family and friends spanning more than a paragraph or two. And only then when I've received irate lectures about my lack of responsiveness. I don't think there's any point in blaming my post-Oscar season fatigue on any one reason, although I can certainly say that the last two months of my final term were quite hectic and demanding. I really have no interest in narrating my many hours spent pulling all-nighters in the library, or popping caffeine pills every three hours. Anyways, all the time and effort I had usually reserved for film-related writing was soon redirected towards paper writing, so that's likely the main reason for my blog negligence of late (laziness and poor time management were/are also at play.) Now that school is more or less over, with grades having been entered (3.7 Cumulative GPA) and graduation pending (eep - June 14th), I really have nothing else to use as an excuse.

Thankfully, since my last exam in mid-May, I've slowly been getting back into the swing of writing and film-watching. Trips to the movie theatre have been much more frequent (although I'm not venturing out for Shrek 3, Ocean's 13 or Pirates 3 - thanks, but no thanks), and I've been spinning "catch up" DVDs in my player non-stop. So I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm still very committed to making this blog work. I may not be able to match the regularity, wit and passion so many of my fellow bloggers are well-known for, but I'm going to try my best. Really. At the very least, you'll see something here once or twice a week, even if it's worthless filler (only the best for my readers, the two of you that are out there.)

If you've been stopping by frequently over the last few months in hopes of activity (in vain), you'll notice that I'm putting a lot more effort into writing full-length reviews (for Notes on a Scandal and Away from Her most recently.) Short paragraphs a la capsule reviews don't really cut it anymore personally, and I often find the overall results vague and bordering on summary. I also find writing long reviews much more fulfilling, and I'm able to get out all I want to say without worrying too much about length. I enjoy the process, even if it takes me longer to think through my thoughts/critiques (which is certainly a good thing.) So expect to find more of that in the coming weeks and months...

I also haven't forgotten about my countdown of the best male performances of the first half of this decade. It's a little embarrassing to think it's almost been a year since I began that project (and had originally planned to finish it by the end of the summer!). The main issue is that the movies I had re-watched during that time have largely faded from memory, so I really need to skim through certain films before committing my thoughts to "paper". But soon!

I also want to commit a lot of time to reviewing many more films from India. After reviewing the imdb database in terms of external comments and reviews, I've found these movie pages lacking in many respects. I also hope to convert many of my readers who are not familiar with these films a chance to see that Indian cinema does not automatically equal Bollywood. I look forward to churning out a lot of reviews soon - look out for thoughts on some of my recent favourites: Zubeidaa, Dil Se.. (best known in North America for featuring the song "Chaiyya Chaiyya", used in the opening and closing credits of Spike Lee's Inside Man) and the Oscar-nominated Lagaan: Once Upon a Time in India.

Other projects in the pipeline? A reappraisal of Aronofsky's The Fountain (that has been pending since my grade change in November) and some commentary on 2007's most anticipated titles...

What else has occurred recently that may be of interest? Of special note is my re-evaluation of Lynch. Another lesson learned by Ali this year - stop judging directors on the basis of two or three films. After being less than wowed with Blue Velvet, Mulholland Dr. and Wild at Heart, I had angrily written him off for good. But with the double whammy of Inland Empire and The Elephant Man combined, he's more than back in my good graces (the former film is particularly awe-inspiring) - on to Eraserhead and Lost Highway! I may even have to give Blue Velvet a second chance, especially since Nick was taken aback by my thumbs-down evaluation recently.

It may seem contradictory after expressing my need to write longer reviews, but here are some other quick notes to jot down (sans plot summary):

Peyton Reed's The Break-Up is a surprisingly uncomfortable sit, fully capturing the rapid disintegration of a once-happy relationship. For a minute, I thought Reed was doing something quite interesting with the rom-com genre (take for instance the non-showy references toward class difference), but ultimately, the film's tone turns non-committal. Soon enough, we have sitcom-y type humour trumping the biting moments that were so promising, and a wish-washy conclusion. The supporting cast is something of a dream on paper, but none of them have enough screentime to make a lasting impression minus Judy Davis. C-

It's easy to understand why D.J. Caruso's Disturbia was a late spring sleeper hit - with its merging of current tween trends (YouTube, iTunes, etc) with the Rear Window formula, the lingo and banter of these bored suburban teenagers is instantly familiar. Shia LeBeouf will never convince me that he has much range as an actor, but he definitely has a commanding presence. In that respect, the movie works best in its exploration of lazy summer days and sexual discovery, and less so in its second-act slasher film turn. I enjoyed it for what it was, but I doubt I'll remember it in a few months, or that it will hold up at all on a second viewing. I hope that the film's success will point viewers in the direction of Hitchcock's classic at the very least. C+

Although it may cost me much credibility, I have no problems in stating my utter adoration for 2003's winsome Something's Gotta Give. Unfortunately, I cannot say the same for Nancy Meyers' The Holiday, a Christmas turkey offered to audiences last December. Despite many friends warning me to pass it up, I plunked down the six dollars required to take in Kate Winslet's attempt at a rom-com on DVD. Happily, she's the best thing about the film, but she's unfortunately dragged down by the lines she's required to recite and the actors she's forced to work with. There's no spark here, no spontaneity - the magic of the Diane Keaton-Jack Nicholson vehicle has clearly been used up. Cameron Diaz provides a good case for her return to modeling as a career, and Jude Law seems more desperate than ever (although it's good to see him moving away from playing married liar-cheaters, even if this film sets that up as a possibility.) There's only one way I could ever consider re-watching this: if a director's cut centred solely around Winslet's Iris and re-wrote Diaz's character arc straight into a tragic plane crash en route to England. D

Wrapping up loose threads.

As I look towards the continent-- err, blog index situated to the left of my screen, I see that only a few more titles remain on the "Still Pending" list before I start my top ten list countdown. Sadly, documentaries and animated films are scarce to be seen on my 2006 list and I felt guilty enough about this yesterday to visit the video store and rectify this injustice. I just finished up with An Inconvenient Truth, a cinematic adaptation of Al Gore's global warming presentation I had meant to catch months ago (whoops), and I plan to give that spooky Monster House a look in the next few minutes. The Guggenheim doc was expectedly informative and even intelligible to a science dunce like me, but I don't think the director removes himself enough from the kind of hero worship I warily anticipated from the get-go. Gore, undeniably an appealing protagonist, has invested much of his energy and dedication to bringing awareness to this hotly-debated issue, but the film is too eager to paint him as the singular, do-no-wrong champion of the cause. The opening and closing moments of the film are telling in this regard, but still, as a educational resource, I think it's one of the most important films of the year. Hopefully the Oscar win next month will draw more viewers who were initially doubtful that a movie about Gore and the weather of all things would be worthwhile. B-

I've had a good run with the movies lately, as you can see from the grades posted. Strangers with Candy - a prequel to the series I'd had little knowledge of before now - was delightful; a giddy mockery of high school movie clichés and the familiar "lessons learned". I'm even thinking of adding the maniac Amy Sedaris to my very competitive Best Actress list; her work is utterly fearless (and equally revolting.) Hysterical stuff. Another film featuring strong work by a lead actress is Quinceañera, the small film about an extended Mexican family in California's Echo Park that won the Audience Award at Sundance last year. The weaknesses are apparent (I certainly wish that the final twenty minutes didn't exist), but it does more things right than wrong. It's a very courageous take on the Virgin Mary tale, and the fact that this particular directing duo (Richard Glatzer and Wash Westmoreland, professional and private partners both) did this this lends a lot to post-screening discussion. And by the way, Emily Rios in the lead role leaves Abigail Breslin, Ivana Baquero and Keke Palmer in the dust. B's for both. I'll definitely have a lot to say about The Death of Mr. Lazarescu later on; for now, SEE IT IMMEDIATELY.

After finishing up with the haunted house movie, I think I'll have seen everything I wanted to (at least for now.) It's very hard to get a copy of Sherrybaby (really, what an unfortunate title) at the many rental places I frequent, but once I do, the top ten/fifteen + awards will be in the works. I definitely want to get started before the Oscars, because after that, everyone is exhausted and sick of this topic (I sense we've already reached that feeling in some sense.) I'm not too concerned about The Good Shepherd or Venus, but if I get the chance in the next few days, why not? (I'll definitely be watching the latter sometime in the next few weeks just because I'm an Oscar completest.) Then I have Winterbottom's Tristam Shandy, which I've had sitting on top of my DVD player forever (read: September), but still haven't had the inclination to sit through (- what's wrong with me? I love Steven Coogan and Naomie Harris!) Finally, I want to give Three Times a look after it showed up on some end-of-year lists (particularly Nick Schager's, who placed it in his #1 slot.) Everything else I can wait for - if I delayed any longer, the list would make an appearance in April like it did last year (and even then I added a title after-the-fact.)

And don't get me started on INLAND EMPIRE, okay? I understand that distributors wouldn't know what to do with it anyways and that Lynch had to release it himself, but I can't hold off until the DVD release in June. I just can't. If it's that good, then I'll write in an addendum later on.

I'm thinking of ways to host my awards on the blog; it will be difficult to have the entire list of categories on one page. Perhaps I'll split them into groups as others have done (Majors, Acting, Writing, etc) - it would look a lot neater.

The next few picks of Male Actors' Performances should be up this weekend.

Movie thoughts going through my head today

1. How on earth did Wojciech Kilar's music for Bram Stoker's Dracula fail to receive an Oscar nomination for Original Score? Because it should have been acknowledged, and the composer should have won for it too (he currently stands at "zero" for nods overall.) This has been bothering me since I re-watched the film for Nathaniel's Vampire blog-a-thon and did research on its awards history. I only ask because the film itself was able to receive so much love in other categories, so it's not like no one had seen the film or outright snubbed it (you're telling me that Basic Instinct was more deserving of a nod that year?) The oversight is pretty mind-boggling, considering it's one of the greatest background scores ever written for a film, let alone a horror picture. On every listen, it succeeds in scaring the holy bejeesus out of me, and I get the ominous feeling that something horrible is about to happen. What a thrilling experience it is! And it's even disturbing in its quieter moments, like the "Lucy's Party" track, which sounds like a fairy tale gone horribly, horribly wrong. Just listen to the first track - "The Beginning" - before bedtime tonight and try not to get nightmares for the rest of the month. Just try.

2. I've been unhealthily obsessed with another film score lately, and that is Alexadre Desplat's marvelous, genius, Golden Globe winning, (and hopefully soon to be rightfully Oscared) work in The Painted Veil. It thankfully avoids the exotic and epic-like inclinations of similarly-themed scores (Europeans venturing out into foreign lands to "find" themselves) and instead delves itself deep into the mysterious, playful and melancholy highs and lows of the relationship between the film's main characters Kitty and Walter. What I love about Desplat's scores, and the thing I can't put my finger on, is how fantastical and dreamy they are while completely complimenting what is happening on-screen. I can't articulate it well obviously. I've been arguing on the merits of the film itself with Nick M. (I'm not really keen on how the Chinese characters are depicted in the film), but we both agree on Desplat's absolutely heavenly music. Go see the movie right now for a sharply-etched Naomi Watts performance (I'm not a fan usually, so that's a recommendation if there ever was one) and buy the soundtrack immediately thereafter. Trust me, guys. The best tracks: the title number, "Promenade", "Kitty's Journey", and "The Water Wheel". Amazing.

3. For two months, I forced myself to stay away because I wanted to watch the film (somewhat at least) outside of the insane media blitz and waves of public discussion. I'll also admit that my own snootiness prevented me from wanting to give the film a chance, since I am a little uptight about this kind of humour. I finally got around to seeing Borat: Cultural Learnings of America... (Larry Charles, 06) this weekend, and I now must admit that Sacha Baron Cohen has the biggest balls of any comedian in recent memory. I spent a lot of the film looking down at my feet because it was just too painful watching the character make a complete ass of himself, or - even worse - the everyday people around him taking him seriously and offering horrifying perspectives of their own. This is the scariest film of the year, in many ways more hard-hitting than the The Descent, because this is a reflection of actual prejudice, ignorance and hatred operating in our midst. Anyone who claims that "things are better now" should be pointed in Cohen's direction. That said, the film often goes too far beyond making its points, reveling in childish and toilet humour for no apparent reason (the bag of feces at the dinner table?) Even more problematic: I also think this kind of satire is dangerous, because as brilliant as it is at times, it can be abused for other reasons. Take my adolescent cousins for example - they think Borat the reporter is funny for his outlandish and disgusting behaviour, and regularly repeat quotes from the film with the "Kazakh" accent. Do they necessarily understand what Cohen is trying to do here? After asking them questions, I suspect not. I think to categorize the film as a comedy is a little misleading - where can you draw the line between laughing with or at a certain type of characterization? I'm still wondering myself. B

4. Holy crap, Sienna Miller can actually act! I saw Factory Girl (George Hickenlooper, 06), and it ended up much better than I thought it would be. Lesson to me (again) is to resist the urge in pre-judging a sketchy-looking biography, no matter how tempting it may be to do so. Certainly not biopic, but at the same time not free of some of the conventions of that genre, this study of Edie Sedgwick's life during the famous Andy Warhol years is consistently illuminating. It's certainly not boring to look at either, that's for sure - it kind of reminded me of Bailey and Barbato's Party Monster, a really underrated film in my opinion. It maintains a nice pace until hitting the Billy Quinn romantic track (a figure based on Bob Dylan, played unevenly by Hayden Christensen), which brings the film to a screeching halt. But as I said before, Sienna Miller is fantastic as Sedgwick, making us understand what was so alluring and hypnotic about the muse. Even in the scenes depicting Edie's spiral into hard drugs and depression are never overplayed on her part. It certainly helps that most of the time, she is a dead ringer for the fashion icon - the transformation holds up throughout. Perhaps even better is Guy Pearce as Warhol, who with his dry and deadpan delivery, makes the case for creating an entire film around his character. B-

5. PGA goes to Little Miss Sunshine, and the Best Picture race gets even more hazy. My prediction was with Dreamgirls since it's big and splashy, but the voters clearly went in the other direction this year. I love it. Even though I'm not a fan of the Dayton/Faris film, I'm really excited to see some variation in the winners being called out. Let's see how this affects the next few weeks in terms of speculation. Meanwhile, the Academy reveals its picks Tuesday morning - my predictions of the big eight categories will be up later tonight or tomorrow.

The Return to (Some) Reviews

Even though it hasn't been that long since my last capsule review rundown (September), I still feel pretty rusty. This post has been in editing-limbo for more than two weeks now, and in the time since, I just feel that each commentary gets progressively worse. Some of them have been reproduced and revised from other forums.

Tideland (Terry Gilliam, 2005) - Grainy, crude and pretty much always incomprehensible, I simply cannot understand why Gilliam thought this would be a good idea, or that audiences would even sit through it. Even an hour into my screening, I was at a loss to understand what was happening and more importantly why I should care when there was so much effort on his part to distance me from it. Of course, that is very well his purpose here, but it still counts as a failed experiment that should have never been realized as anything longer than a ten minute short. I can imagine it would have worked much better in that medium than stretched out to a feature-length film that cannot accommodate it. Although Jeff Bridges and Jennifer Tilly receive high billing here, but they only appear for about fifteen minutes or so. The lead here then is young actress Jodelle Ferland, playing Jeliza-Rose, a chatty young girl who creates her own fantasy world out in the Prairies once she is abandoned by her junkie parents. She spends her days chatting with a host of finger puppets and befriending strange and disturbed townsfolk from the estate next door. One might expect something along the lines of a darker and more violent "Alice in Wonderland" or "The Wizard of Oz" re-visioning, but there is little such magic or mystery here (del Toro's Pan's Labyrinth accomplishes much more with a similar concept.) Even Ferland fails to make her character worth rooting for; she screams, giggles and feigns through every line of dialogue, making Jeliza-Rose one of the most excruciating movie characters in recent memory. Her diction certainly does not help, so her line readings simply play as high-pitched squawking. I suspect many will try to gather the clues here and decipher the film's garbled plot turns, but I will not be wasting my time. Although there are some interesting moments here and there (Brendan Fletcher and Janet McTeer are quite good as the creepy neighbors next door), overall the intent feels too flippant and insincere to be taken seriously. More murky than visionary. C-/D+

The Sun (Aleksander Sokurov, 2005) - I may not have seen the first two installments in Sokurov's "Power" trilogy, but I am confident in suggesting that The Sun stands completely on its own. This is a solemn, deeply unsettling film that takes its time in establishing a mood, immersing us minute by minute until we are just as lost and anxious as the characters that miserably glide across the screen. Set towards during the last days of World War II in Japan, Sokurov unobtrusively captures the final few hours of Emperor Hirohito's claim to power before victorious American forces enter and place him under house arrest. Sokurov begins with a meditative sequence in the Emperor's personal quarters, as his servants read out to him the day's itinerary. Everyone is aware that the enemy is due to descend at any moment, but the schedule is kept in place as per usual. He will first meet with his cabinet, have a few hours to dabble in biology research, take time for a nap and then enjoy some personal time (to perhaps write letters to his wife and son, who have been moved into safer territory.) Sokurov follows Hirohito's actions closely, studying the defeated leader bravely maintain a sense of regiment and ascendancy. Yet the Emperor begins to doubt his position as the hours pass, calling into question the "fact" that he is divine and the country's "sun" (much to the dismay of his assistants). This intimate portrait is never made redundant, but always revealing something to us (if one is willing to invest in the character here). The second half of the film focuses on his capture and interrogation by General Douglas MacArthur (who expects to see an Emperor and gets something of a Charlie Chaplin clone!). Issei Ogata in the lead helps considerably in allowing us to understand this neurotic mess of a disheartened leader. Always seeming to mumble or mouth his words before he gathers up the conviction to speak, Ogata is eerily convincing as a man questioning his identity and position hitherto so clear to him and his subjects. Sokurov hardly missteps here; the only flaw is how he endlessly keeps mining Japanese custom and etiquette for laughs. A-

Manderlay (Lars von Trier, 2005) - Ladies and gentlemen, forget everything negative you've heard about the second installment in Lars von Trier's exciting USA - Land of Opportunities trilogy. Personally, this is far from a disappointment - it only may seem that way when compared with Dogville, which was an admittedly stronger effort (especially in terms its lead performance.) But this is nonetheless a shocking and blistering study of establishing "democracy" in a community otherwise enslaved. There are obvious parallels to "Operation Iraqi Freedom", whereby von Trier critiques the United States' handling of this shattered country and its flimsy rhetoric of liberation. It also stands in for colonization of any "Third-World" or developing country. But the can also be viewed as a discourse about power and subjection, whether we are privileged or disenfranchised (in every sense of the word.) Here, Grace (Bryce Dallas Howard, taking over for Nicole Kidman) is very much empowered and feels that she will teach the newly-freed population, once slaves, of the Manderlay plantation about emancipation. Her intentions are certainly noble, but ultimately she has surprises in store about how the new citizens react to their unfamiliar situation. In Manderlay, von Trier asks us: is democracy really the only way we can organize nation and community? Does freedom allow for the right to sell yourself into slavery if you wish it? Fundamentaly, what does freedom entail, and who has the right to practice it? Are you (and when are you) allowed to exercise your rights if the establishing, "fixing" power states that you are not ready? Perhaps most importantly, does one have the right to enforce one way of life and condemn another that is other? By the time we leave Manderlay (both the film and its titular setting), we are left in more doubt and disarray than when we first arrived. Lars von Trier has once again crafted a challenging moral dilemma about our notions of equality, justice and liberalism. It is certainly not a friendly or warm picture, but certainly offers a lot of welcome gray zone complexity. B+

The Devil Wears Prada (David Frankel, 2006) - Really now. Who cares about Andy's alleged descent into assumed self-interest and the film's heavy-handed finger wagging when the performances and quips on display are this entertaining? This adaptation of Jessica Warner's book is essentially Mean Girls played out in New York's fashion magazine world (and certainly not as sharply written), but the true draws of Prada are clearly its upbeat soundtrack played over multiple montages, the designer porn and an excellent ensemble cast meticulously polished. To be sure, the conclusive moralizing is an unfortunate turn in the frivolity, but even at its most predictable, this picture is fluff cinema at its best. While Meryl Streep is a mortal Best Actress Oscar nominee lock for her refreshing take on the boss from hell, all the cast members here are on-key and deserving of praise in their own right. Anne Hathaway has received the most flack for her characterization, especially considering her apparent betrayal and abuse of morals are not quite reflected in her sweet and innocent face. But it must be stated she is also handed the least interesting role, for Prada's sideline figures are the real stars of the show with great material to work with. Take for instance Stanley Tucci's original and generous portrayal of Nigel, an overworked assistant editor who has sacrificed his personal life for a chance to one day assume a greater degree of professional power. Emily Blunt's elitist assistant is my personal hero of this film, taking an otherwise thankless part (the evil bitch who makes our heroine's life hell and then inevitably gets a comeuppance) and putting her own spin on it. Always snippy and condescending, the icy-cold Blunt is hysterical as she attempts to hold onto her position on the fashion hierarchy at any cost. Every line - even a mere throwaway line - is gold: "Okay, I am hearing this; and all I want to hear is *this*." Blunt plays the character completely straight; when she asides to Andrea, "I'm one stomach flu away from my goal weight", there's no winking at play. The character is at both a ludicrous and terrifying portrait because it is so convincing - this could be a real person. It is telling that despite having a fraction of the screentime that Hathaway and Streep enjoy, Blunt walks away as the film's star. It may be the best performance of the year. B- (up from a C+ on a second viewing.)

Stranger than Fiction (Marc Forster, 2006) - As many critics of this film have pointed out, it plays much better in concept than in execution. Outside of the nifty Kafka-esque premise and one spot-on supporting performance, there is not much else operating here besides the gimmick stretched (woefully) thin. Zach Helm's overpraised screenplay is stitched together on a series of convenient plot turns, which make little sense when placed together in the end. For example, (plot spoiler here), the majority of Harold Crickman's life-altering decisions and risks are made directly because of the narration he hears in his head - it is the very reason he breaks his monotonous routine. If Kay Eiffel's novel accurately reflects what is happening in Harold's life, wouldn't she have written his predicament (specifically her own narration) into the story? This is a gaping plot hole the film cannot - nor does it attempt to - resolve. Helm is more interested in keeping the novelty going as far as he can, which becomes less convincing as Crick navigates the unfamiliar terrain over and over again. Given the likable talent assuming these characters, one would expect the cast members to fill in the dead space, but the results are uneven. Will Ferrell is asked to carry the film in this regard, but despite an earnest attempt to give his sad-sack character some shape, the figure as written is just not intriguing. Dustin Hoffman's downer reading of I Heart Huckabees' Bernard is cutting, but his character serves no purpose other than to open up the dilemma at the end. The usually-reliable Emma Thompson plays her manic novelist in so many different directions, one is left with little confidence as to who Eiffel is and what she is suffering from. Queen Latifah manages to steal a few scenes from her on-screen partner Thompson, but it's a negligible part. The best-in-show distinction then goes to Maggie Gyllenhaal as Crick's radical anarchist baker girlfriend, a character that makes absolutely no sense on paper, but is admirably filled in by the actor. Gyllenhaal also has two of the film's best line readings: the first is when she initially jeers Crick the "tax maaaan!", and second, a monologue about cookies that is utterly wacky but completely sold on her dedication to the project alone. C/C-

Blood Lust.

Talk about the essentializing of culture. Mel Gibson's new film is not so much a narrative of the Mayan Empire's decline as it is a fetishizing spectacle of violence and excessive gore. Ignore word of an apparent analogy being drawn to the United States and its method of foreign policy. This is basic blood lust, a flat-out horror film, and a reprehensible attempt to codify and script Mayan culture as inherently brutal and sacrificial. As Lauren put it, it's another colonizing of sorts on Gibson's part under a seemingly noble attempt to represent an entire people and way of life. More to come... F