I just saw a television ad for The Namesake DVD, which is being released next week.
1. Ryan Gosling out, Mark Wahlberg in. The internet is abuzz with news that just a day before principal photography began on Peter Jackson's The Lovely Bones, Gosling left the project over creative differences. Wahlberg stepped in only a day after and arrived today in Pennsylvania, where he will be joining a cast comprising of Rachel Weisz, Saoirse Ronan (presently receiving Oscar buzz for Atonement), Susan Sarandon and Stanley Tucci. The news is all the more surprising considering the actor has spent months preparing for the part, presumably attempting to age himself (by gaining weight, growing a beard) in order to play a father of two young teenage girls. The headline particularly held my attention because I'm in the middle of the Alice Sebold novel right now. (BTW, it's quite good.) The casting change isn't altogether an unwelcome one for me, although I'll always wonder what Gosling would have done with the part. But Wahlberg looks to be on a career upswing right now, and this role presents a welcome change from the crusty police officers, bad ass vigilantes and all-around tough guys he's been channeling.
2. I've had this catchy, toe-tapping YouTube video on continuous repeat for the last day or so. It's a musical trailer for Aaja Nachle, the Madhuri Dixit vehicle opening next month. I figure that most readers of this blog are not very familiar with Bollywood trivia, so I'll try to give some background to bring you all up to speed. Simply put, this film arrives with a lot of hype precisely because of the presence of that woman in the lead role. Throughout the late 80s and early 90s, this actress reigned high over the industry - no one could match her in terms of popularity and acclaim. Aspiring starlets collectively sighed in relief when Dixit went into semi-retirement in 1999, deciding to settle down and raise a family with her husband Sriram Nene in Colorado. She has starred in only two films since - Lajja and Sanjay Leela Bhansali's remake of Devdas (for which she won buckets of Best Supporting Actress awards.) I was never a huge fan of the actress until I saw her performances in these last two films; unfortunately, this revelation occurred after she decided to leave the profession. It's sort of like what Nathaniel went through during the Pfeiffer dry spell, when she disappeared for a good five years.
3. I caught Ang Lee's Lust, Caution a couple of days ago, and while my initial reaction was mixed at best, the film has really been appreciating in my mind since then. I'm thinking a second trip to the theatre is in order, although perhaps not until I've caught up on other titles first. What felt "off"? For starters, it's not the length that bothered me, but Lee's overly guarded and (forgive me) "cautious" direction. I suppose this approach is intentional, so that the bursts of gruesome violence and the infamously explicit sex scenes especially stand out, but they feel at odds with the material. I feel the same way about the gory Turkish bath throw down in Cronenberg's Eastern Promises; in both cases, the results are rather spectacular as standalone pieces of filmmaking, but feel like desperate shifts for shock value and attention nonetheless. Am I making sense?
It is hard to wrap my head around the fact that a near-decade has passed since Shekhar Kapur's Elizabeth (1998) won widespread art-house acclaim, grabbed seven Oscar nominations and catapulted Cate Blanchett to the A-list roster. Opulent, violent and arguably risky in the claims it made (many bristled at the suggestion that the Queen's self-conferred title of virginity was meant to be taken non-literally), the picture excited my senses as a fourteen-year-old, an impressionable and emerging cinephile and soon-to-be Oscar fanatic (yes, I spent the majority of the film open-mouthed and engaging in Cate worship like almost everyone else.) My love for the film has rightfully cooled in the years since, better able to appreciate some of the screenplay's hokey turns and spineless cultural depictions (for example, inviting the audience to share Elizabeth's ridicule of suitor Duke of Anjou for his cross dressing, orgy-participating antics - what a freak, right?!) Still, I felt immediately protective of the film from the moment I heard Kapur propose a seemingly-unecessary sequel, only a couple of years later. For one, how could one improve upon that glorious closing scene? ("Observe Lord Burghley: I am married. To England.") Blanchett too had the correct gut instinct; for years, she expressed reservations at revisiting the role that had made her a star. It's a shame Kapur and co-star Geoffrey Rush ultimately convinced her to return: not only does the sequel lack the bite of its predecessor, it resorts to the worst kind of preening Oscar-bait theatrics.
It's not at the level of what she accomplished in the first installment - not even close - but it's hardly the howling disaster some would have you believe it is. The actress rightly intuits there's room for shits and giggles at the figurehead's expense, but the part ultimately defeats her. Moreover, there isn't anything really meaty for her to explore here; Nicholson and Hearst ignore some of the most fascinating aspects of the regent (her love of the arts, her own writings, etc.) and instead resort to "Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned" temper tantrums and love triangle inanity. There are several scenes in which we are allowed to see the queen sans-wig and costume pomp, but these character reveals seem more forced than anything else. Even if one buys into the Elizabeth-as-drag-queen readings some are throwing about, I doubt that they are intentional on Kapur's part (how neat would that have been?) The director is obviously not interested in exploring the queen-as-performer, which would have resulted in a much more audacious and playful film than the one we have here. Moreover, Blanchett is much too young for the part. Taking place roughly thirty years or so following the first film's telling of her rise to power, the actress' porcelain visage just barely hints at the many years of bearing the weight of a crown. How neat would it have been to have Judi Dench (who acted circles around Blanchett last year in Notes on a Scandal) reprise her Oscar-winning turn from Shakespeare in Love as the troubled sovereign? Or if Kapur and company had waited at least until Blanchett had hit her early fifties before revisiting this personality? The "what ifs" in this regard are endless.
For all this, I found The Golden Age a hoot, even when I wanted to hold my head in my hands and sigh for the missed opportunities. And for all my misgivings above, I cannot take it seriously, finding Kapur's indulgences and Blanchett's floundering in the lead engrossing. As well, the film has its minor pluses here and there that I have not touched upon; even if the cinematography (Remi Adefarasin) and art direction are overly-precious (did Elizabeth really have a map of Europe conveniently etched on the floor of her throne room?), the look is simply scrumptious throughout. In addition to Adesfarasin, most of the first film's major contributors are back for another go: Oscar-winner Jenny Shircore misses the boat on properly aging Blanchett, but otherwise does fine work (Abbie Cornish is so fresh and appropriately youthful.) Comments on Alexandra Byrne's costumes will likely focus on Blanchett's elaborate fopperies; they are great fun to look at, but the real delights are in the peripheral characters' threads. Editor Jill Bilcock keeps things moving at a fine pace, although the third act is an utter mess with the final battle depicted in fragmented, unclear pieces. The fault is perhaps not hers, but one wonders why the final showdown - built up for so long - comes across as so terribly anti-climactic and confusing. The score (jointly written by Craig Armstrong and A.R. Rahman) is bonk-you-over-the-head obvious with shrieking choirs, but I suppose that's part of the appeal. With all other production elements operating at such heightened registers, it's only fitting that the music follows suit.
The year is 1987, and the setting is Romania, a mere two years before Nicolae Ceauşescu's Communist regime will be overthrown. The opening moments of Cristi Mungiu's 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days capture an elusive, detail-lacking conversation between two college roommates: jittery Gabita (Laura Vasiliu) and proactive Otilia (Anamaria Marinca), who together vaguely discuss the particulars and cost of some unspecified future event. Gabi is visibly fretful and unable to take action ("I can't handle the money part", she shudders), so the no-nonsense Otilia assumes the lion's share of the work. She then sets out on an excursion that will involve (unfruitful) attempts to book a hotel room, tracking down a mysterious stranger, and appeasing a demanding boyfriend. From the start, it is clear that Mungiu is interested in the bartering and exchange of commodities and capital between individuals. The two girls live in a co-ed college dormitory, but it seems more like an underground marketplace than anything else. Cramped bedrooms become sites of transaction as opposed to spaces dedicated to intense scholarship, some students even stocking highly sought-after British and American brand name goods (Nestle chocolate powder, for example.) And as Otilia ventures out into the streets of Bucharest, she is forced to play a public relations mastermind, making up seemingly credible stories when put on the spot, manipulating suspicious authority figures to aid her friend. It soon becomes clear that Mungiu is setting up the moment when this kind of business dealing will play out physically upon the (female) body.
Anyone who kept up with the Cannes Film Festival last spring (the film deservingly picked up the Palme d'Or) must already have read commentary that would suggest the film is ostensibly about illegal abortions. Indeed, it is Gabi that is unhappily expecting, and dutiful friend Otilia is exhausting the avenues for this procedure to take place, as soon and as inexpensively as possible. Yet the screenplay also pursues another complex politics about the human body - the demands placed upon it, the physical restriction of its movement and, of course, how it is exploited sexually. Otilia is soon unable to navigate the city as easily as she once did, and she is constantly asked questions about her whereabouts and motivations. Suspicious hotel clerks demand she submit her identification when venturing outside, so that her movement is always monitored. Even more troubling is the amount of pressure and responsibility placed upon Otilia by friends and others - Gabi expects her to make all the arrangements, while her boyfriend Adi insists she stop by his mother's birthday party later that night. Otilia is stretched thin between all these characters, all of them expecting something very specific from her.
Anamaria Marinca's performance as Otilia is a must-see; it's the kind of turn that rips a viewer's heart out without turning to victimhood histrionics. No matter how badly things spiral out of control, Otilia must forge onwards, and Marinca achieves that conflicted determination tinged with crippling fear. What was once a confident, shrewd personality is left shattered and disillusioned by the film's closing scene. There is one sizable scene - consisting of single straightforward shot by Mungiu - that is particularly lasting in my memory. Otilia has decided to attend Adi's mother's birthday dinner after all, and she joins the guests at the dinner table. However, only her physical body is present at his moment; her thoughts are clearly with the ailing Gabi and truly digesting the horror of what transpired earlier that afternoon. The rest of the cast members receive much less screen-time in comparison, but Laura Vasiliu's work as Gabi is equally memorable. The actor accomplishes the difficult job of making us care for the character despite her total ignorance, and her constant dependence on Otilia. Vlad Ivanov is appropriately complex as Mr. Bebe, able to come across as genuinely invested in the girls' situation despite his reprehensible methods of manipulating them for his gain. And Alexandru Potocean is quite captivating as Adi in his mere two scenes opposite Marinca, conveying impatience and exasperation without making the figure a villain (the stock jerk boyfriend.)
So guys and gals, listen up. Not only did I get to fulfill my celebrity-sighting dream yesterday; I was able to do it twice, both times in close succession! First, I got to see the ethereal Tilda Swinton in all her statuesque glory during the introduction to The Man from London screening at 6pm. Director Bela Tarr spoke first (offering up the expected thanks and appreciation to the festival programmers for including the film and to audience members for attending), and called this effort "straight from the heart." Then... he brought Tilda up to the front. (If you must know Nathaniel, she was rather conservative this time around in a black knee-length dress with her hair swept back as usual.) She talked about how she was thrilled to do this film even though she only appears for about four minutes or so (actually, I'd say it's more like seven to nine, but more on that later.) She ended off with calling this latest project of his "medieval, but truly modern in a super-sonic way." Thought it was strange at first, but now having seen it, I couldn't have said it better myself. Oh Tilda.
California Dreamin' (Endless) is on a lot of people's minds right now, not only because the attention is on Romanian cinema these days, but because of the project's tragic behind-the-scenes history. About a year ago, the film's director Cristian Nemescu died unexpectedly in a car accident (along with Andrei Toncu, sound designer, and the taxi cab driver in the driver's seat.) Thematically, the film deals with the issue of border-crossing and how this relationship between national powers is not always reciprocal and marred by unequal power dynamics and double standards (specifically between the United States and most "Third World" countries.) I will pass on writing a review (for now), only because my handwritten notes go on for yards, and there's simply too much to cover. Suffice it to say, it is a shame that this talented writer-director will not be able to follow up in the future. The length is somewhat of an issue (which will not be tampered with, since this is the cut that Nemescu left us with) , but overall I was excited to see that his critiques are subtle and well-articulated. Highly recommended, and I'll report back with more thoughts once I think it through a little more. B
In his documentary L'Avocat de la terreur, Barbet Schroeder (Reversal of Fortune, Murder by Numbers) sits down with controversial French lawyer Jacques Vergès, who has represented infamous figures such as Klaus Barbie, Slobodan Milošević and high-profile militant political figures throughout the course of his legal career. Staunchly anti-empire and in support of aggressive decolonization tactics, Vergès and his life achievements serve as absolutely fascinating subject matter. Equal parts exposed and elusive, he chainsmokes his thick cigars as he retraces some of the most notorious moments of his professional and personal life. Particularly when he defended prisoner Djamila Bouhired of the French-Algerian resistance (they later married) and the aforementioned Barbie in the eighties, for crimes against humanity. Even more fascinating than the much-publicized trials and roster of clients is the period in his life from 1970 to 1978 (called "The Missing Years"), when he seemingly dropped off the face of the earth. Much speculation ensues to this day about what exactly he was doing and who he was working for/with (he is smilingly tight-lipped on the subject), although he published books and pamphlets during this time period as well.
"Tomorrow is another day" is the refrain that regularly resounds throughout Swedish director Roy Andersson's You, the Living, a quirk fest populated by tuneless musicians, weepy alcoholics and all-around awkward types. A self-deprecating and existential downer about the monotony of day-to-day life in present day Stockholm, the film follows countless individuals who suffer from an array of social dysfunctions and personal crises. The frustrations on display range from dealing with mild annoyances (noisy, tone-deaf neighbours living on the floor above) to truly devastating situations (losing a parent to Alzheimer's disease.) It is soon evident that the walls between their professional and private lines frequently collapse in the most mortifying ways; during one scene, a teacher breaks down in front of her young kindergarten students because her husband called her a "hag" earlier that morning. Andersson's work is surely attention-grabbing from the start - the film never quite settles on a singular tone, instead straddling the line between poking fun at these bizarre creatures and also expressing great sympathy for their plights. And yet, the problem is not the constant oscillating wildly between these registers. It is the reliance on visual gags and one-note jokes to stitch together the wildly disparate stories that soon works to undermine the film.
For the first twenty minutes or so, You, the Living manages to coast by on amusingly irreverent material and deadpan line deliveries. Soon enough though, the approach feels outright gimmicky. For example, a character eventually breaks the fourth wall and tells the audience about a nightmare he had the night before. After unsuccessfully attempting to pull off the tablecloth trick at a dinner party, he destroys a priceless heirloom and is arrested for his destructive actions. The traumatic dream sequence is then re-created in full detail, in which he is ultimately put on trial and berated by beer-sipping judges. This sequence goes on for several minutes, strung together by a series of random one-liners. Each sentence feels as though it should be followed by a desperate rim shot or canned studio audience laughter, as if all these responses were already anticipated by the filmmakers from the get-go. Sustained over a feature-length running time, the film seems over-confident in this regard.
Attending the Toronto International Film Festival (hereafter referred to as "TIFF") every September is one of the highlights of my year, an essential staple of my movie-going diet. It will be a sad day indeed should I have to leave Toronto at some point in my life (which may be a possibility in the near future.) Even if funds are low; even if school responsibilities pull me away; even if it is tremendously difficult to justify spending $300+ on a week of films, I try and find a way to make it work. True, such an extravagance may seem outrageous to casual film watchers; I've often had to justify my choices to horrified friends and family. But how can one explain it? The rush of surviving on coffee and four films a day? The joy of meeting beloved artistic personalities in person? Watching a film several months - or even a full year - before it receives an official release?
My one rule this year for picking films was the following - absolutely nothing that opens in September could be considered. Therefore, I had to be strong and ignore Eastern Promises, Lust, Caution (*sob*), The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford, My Kid Could Paint That and In the Valley of Elah (... if you can't tell I'm kidding about that last one, obviously you don't know me well.) I tried to be a little more adventurous this year and move towards titles I didn't know that much about, although you'll certainly see familiar ones in the mix. And my excuse for Reservation Road? I guess it's the Oscar pundit within emerging, but I love Ruffalo and also want to see what kind of acting quartet category fraud will ensue this year. What am I most excited for? Well, besides the aforementioned Haynes and Baumbach features, I'm really looking forward to seeing my idol in person (read: Mira Nair, who will be presenting several short films on AIDS in India, along with several other prominent directors like Santosh Sivan and Vishal Bharadwaj.)
Be Kind, Rewind (Michel Gondry) - Unfortunately, the only Gondry film I've seen is Eternal Sunshine..., so I don't have a strong opinion of him as a director yet. I have to admit, the premise sounded a lot better on paper than it does in this trailer released recently (but then again, how is that indicative of anything?) There are a lot of likely plot holes that I hope the screenplay is able to adequately explain (why don't they just buy the erased titles again? Is this set in the pre-DVD era? How long can one sustain a concept like this?), but I'm keeping an open mind despite my nitpicky points. Yay for Mos Def. And Mia Farrow! Looks fun, even if it ends up being overall unsatisfying
14. Margot at the Wedding (Noah Baumbach) - The trailer looks icky and dull (ill-timed editing is probably more to blame than anything), but I wasn't quite convinced by the pre-release word-of-mouth for Squid either. And we know how that turned out. Nicole Kidman is tipped as an awards player again (then again, isn't she always?), and perhaps even Jennifer Jason-Leigh could get enough attention for a long-deserved career nod. I still don't think Jack Black is the perfect fit here, even though I love him, but I think Baumbach knows what he's doing. Plus, I've heard great things from an insider at TIFF (apparently the best of the lot he has seen.)
The Golden Age (Shekhar Kapur) - I love Elizabeth. I love Cate Blanchett in it. She should have won the Oscar. I've been salivating at the thought of a sequel for yeeaarsss. So why is this situated at #9? Truthfully, it probably would have landed the #1 spot if it weren't for that depressing, pitched-to-the-rafters trailer. I can't even watch it the whole way through anymore. Hopefully the finished product won't be this hysterical, cheesy and bombastic (what is with that "I'm a hurricane" nonsense? I'm mean, really now.) It just doesn't sit well with me at all, even if I'm a major fan of everyone involved with this project. As much as I'm a fan of Cate, lately she's just not doing it for me. After last year's depressing output (that nomination belongs to EMILY BLUNT), I'm scared to believe, lest I am burned again. Okay, enough of my bitching. The good? Samantha Morton as Mary, Queen of Scots is brilliant casting; I can't wait to see what she does with role. I'm also excited to see how the much-hyped Abbie Cornish fares up against all these acting titans. Oh yeah, and apparently Clive Owen is in this. Okay, I'm ready. Bring it on.
4. Eastern Promises (David Cronenberg) - This could not come at a better time for me. Not only does it reunite Viggo and David after their 2005 knockout (*hyperventilates*), but it conveniently opens following my Naomi Watts reappraisal, who finally lives up to the hype post-Lynch (re: last year's The Painted Veil - see it for her, among a few other pluses.) It will probably have to compete with the biggie American Gangster for mafia-related picture of the year (*shrug*); hell, it will certainly draw comparisons to A History of Violence, which itself dealt with grisly secrets and shadowy mobsters. But whatever, it's Cronenberg. How will this not be gross, stomach-turning, brilliantly acted (Viggo with a hot accent!), subversive, sexy and all those things you expect from the master?
1. I'm Not There (Todd Haynes) - I tried to leave substantial comments for this selection many times, but words continue to fail me. Are they even necessary at this point? How can I adequately explain why an upcoming Haynes film is always cause for celebration... Even if the film doesn't end up working in the end (which I highly doubt in the first place), you've got to give him props for being so experimental and original with his cinematic projects. If only all directors thought this "out-of-the-box". Either way, I'm excited to see what looks like a dismantling of the biopic structure (among other things), and that cast looks pretty damn fine to these eyes (Bale! Ledger! Williams!). Even my now-estranged Blanchett seems to be in top form, and when was the last time I felt that way?! One word seems apt in this case: meep!
Is this a bit of a cop-out? Well, I'll write a few lines in my defense first...
Again, I'm quite aware that such a post is considerably "late" seeing as we are fast approaching the halfway mark of 2007, but has that ever stopped me before? Better late to the party than not attending at all. Besides, apart from Away from Her, Planet Terror, Spider-Man 3 and some festival leftovers from 2006, there was little to look forward to and celebrate within the January to April period. We all know that the good stuff is reserved for the latter part of the year more often than not, and this is around the time that I start to salivate at the promise of TIFF (the Toronto Int'l Film Festival) and its possible entries. Cannes was rather low-key this year, but that has not negatively affected my anticipation for titles such as Moore's Sicko, Van Sant's Paranoid Park and Sokurov's Alexandra. Like last year, I've organized my selections into four camps (dreading/interested in/honourable mentions/the top fifteen), so here we go...