"The King's Speech"

Runtime:  1 hr. 51 min.

Rated R for language

Cast: Colin Firth, Geoffrey Rush, Helena Bonham Carter, Guy Pearce, Timothy Spall, Derek Jacobi, Jennifer Ehle, Michael Gambon

Director: Tom Hooper

"I don't know what he is saying, but he says it well."  

Bertie, Duke of York (Colin Firth) utters these words upon seeing coronation newsreel footage featuring Hitler inciting the German people.  Oratory skills are a necessary evil for world leaders.  With powerful orators like Benito Mussolini and Adolph Hitler on the rise, it's a bad time for the King of England to have a speech impediment. 

The younger son of King George V understands this all too well.  He's been in unfortunate possession of a stammer for as long as he can remember.  His father (Michael Gambon) has passed, leaving his older brother David (Guy Pearce) the new King.  But following the sound of his own heartbeat, David abdicates the throne when not allowed to marry the twice-divorced Wallis Simpson.  This leaves Bertie to be King... a position he secretly dreads.  The Duchess of York (Helena Bonham Carter) has already summoned help in the form of a rather eccentric Australian speech therapist named Lionel Logue (Geoffrey Rush).  The relationship between Bertie and Logue begins on rough terrain, but strengthens with the passage of time and an understanding of each others' vulnerabilities.

"The King's Speech" is the best kind of historical drama; one that focuses on overcoming personal obstacles rather than noteworthy achievements.  I once had a history teacher who couldn't understand our apathy regarding certain historical figures.  "How can you not be fascinated by great individuals?  Don't you want to be inspired?"  An understandable query, but when you're a hopelessly awkward teenager brought to a boil in a steaming pot of social insecurity, it's infinitely more interesting to learn about flawed individuals than great ones.

The movie is fascinating in that the very elements that make it humorous also make it touching.  Consider the first meeting between the Duchess of York and Lionel Logue.  She comes calling at his residence, and struggles to understand the machinations of the building's gated elevator.  The scene gets a laugh, but it's also uniquely moving.  She loves both her husband and her country too much to remain confined to the Royal Comfort Zone.  Bertie needs help regardless of whether or not he wants it, and she will go to whatever length to summon it.

Logue is known for unorthodox teaching methods, and carries an air of refreshing candor.  Under the guise of a "Mrs. Johnson", the Duchess informs Logue about her husband's stammer and the fact that his job requires public speaking.  Logue quips, "Perhaps another job?  Or is he an indentured servant?"  Well... sort of.  Her true identity is soon revealed to Logue, and he agrees to take her husband on as a client, albeit with one stipulation... he will only treat him at his own residence.  "My castle.  My rules."

Both men are defined by their social status, which makes the teacher/student relationship stumble mightily from the starting gate.  Logue insists on equal footing, and so refuses to address him as "Your Highness" and inquires about the possibility of calling him Bertie.  This doesn't sit well with the Duke.  Logue also wastes no time in attempting to break Bertie of bad habits taught by those in his inner Royal circle.  At one point in their initial meeting, Bertie pulls a cigarette from his pocket and lights it...

Logue:  Please don't do that.

Bertie:  My doctors have informed me that smoking helps to relax the jaw muscles.

Logue:  They're idiots.

Bertie:  They've been knighted.

Logue:  That makes it official then.

Logue understands that stammers can be the offspring of childhood trauma, though Bertie disputes this notion.  Eventually, Logue does help Bertie convey the adolescent pain that has long since set up shop in his psyche.  He encourages these painful personal revelations in song when words fail the Duke.  The power of these scenes is absolutely piercing, yet the film wisely avoids diving into mawkishness.  It possesses an understated elegance.  Painful truths are gently revealed rather than hammered home.

Through Colin Firth's masterful performance, we're able to comprehend the depths of Bertie's insecurity and how it has been shaped through both his own childhood experiences and his unusual ascension to the throne.  Geoffrey Rush is equally effective as a man whose own failed dreams of performing on stage haven't dampened his belief in the power of his unorthodox methods.  When his credentials are called into question by the King's inner circle, he responds with confidence... despite his rather modest qualifications, he has never misrepresented himself.  This satisfies the King.

The screenwriter is David Seidler, who had his own speech impediment as a child and drew strength from the King's story.  The director is Tom Hooper, best known for the HBO miniseries "John Adams."  As he did with that miniseries, Hooper skillfully bridges the emotional gap between figures we've read about in history and individuals we may know whose flaws strike very close to home.  When the King's coronation speech is finally delivered, it is successful beyond expectations, but not quite perfect.  Afterward, Logue informs Bertie "You still stammered on the W's," to which the King replies, "I had to throw in a few of those so they'd know it was me."  A great line, one that Hooper later revealed was lifted from the King's own diary.

The successful speech earns the admiration and respect of the King's people, conveyed in the thundering applause following its delivery.  A triumphant conclusion, though I was moved more by something else.  As the King waves to his supporters from his balcony, Logue--ever so subtly--positions himself so that he can see over the King's shoulder, observe the reaction.  Contemplate his role in history.  His facial expression is subtle but powerful.  He doesn't really smile, but he does look peaceful.  Content.  His own personal aspirations might have fallen short, but something greater has taken their place.  At that moment we realize that true contentment lies not in the manifestation of one's aspirations, but the possibility that those aspirations can alter the lives of other people.  You never know who you're going to meet.

* * * *  out of  * * * *  stars

"Black Swan"

Runtime:1 hr. 43 min.

Rated R for strong sexual content, disturbing violent images, language and some drug use

Cast: Natalie Portman, Mila Kunis, Vincent Cassel, Barbara Hershey, Winona Ryder, Benjamin Millipied

Director: Darren Aronofsky

Talk about being wound up tighter than a snare drum.  In Darren Aronofsky's "Black Swan", Natalie Portman spends virtually the entire movie one paranoid delusion away from a full-on psychological implosion. That seems to be the way her immediate environment wants her.  Her instructor, her mother, her fellow dancers... all seem to have a stake in her sanity or lack thereof.  I know virtually nothing about the day-to-day machinations of a big-city ballet company, but I have an image in my mind of what it might be like.  This movie comes disturbingly close to my imagination.

Portman plays Nina Sayers, a talented dancer for a New York City company whose dedication to her craft borders on obsessive.  To her fellow dancers, however, she is more vulnerable than threatening.  She lives in a kind of menagerie of fear.  Always in a curious state of apology for not being enough.  Not dedicated enough for her instructor, not worthy enough for the respect of her fellow dancers, not appreciative enough of her mother, not talented enough to follow in the footsteps of her idol.  She seems perpetually ready to throw herself at the mercy of anyone who breathes the same air.

Things, however, might be looking up for her.  The company instructor, Thomas Leroy (Vincent Cassel) has announced that the lead dancer in the company, Beth Macintyre (Winona Ryder) is being replaced for the upcoming production of "Swan Lake" and that Nina has been selected to step in.  This does raise the ire of several colleagues and puts her in a somewhat uncomfortable position with the lecherous Thomas, but it has long been a dream of hers.  She won't let this opportunity get away.

The role of the Swan Queen is a dual one.  The part consists of two diametrically opposite personalities.  The White Swan is pure, exudes innocence and grace.  The Black Swan is seductive, revels in guile and projects sensuality.  For obvious reasons, Nina is far more suited for the White Swan.  To master the dark, lascivious predilections of the Black Swan will thrust her into the most ominous regions of her mind and soul.  

As the pressure mounts, Nina begins to recoil from the incessant smothering of her mother Erica (Barbara Hershey), a former dancer herself whose constant attention seems to have a dual purpose... to both support her and as a means of "reinventing" a past she would have rather had.  Erica is not merely an overbearing parent.  She has an obsessive-compulsive streak that dances on the precipice of aggression.  Their relationship is a strange one.  

To help Nina cope, she begins to spend more time with a new member of the company, an easy-going free-spirit named Lily (Mila Kunis).  Lily's appeal to Nina seems to rest in the fact that she stands outside of Nina's menagerie of fear.  At first, it seems Lily has no stake in Nina's future.  That is, until Thomas notices Lily's talent, and casts her as Nina's secondary.  This development dumps more gas on Nina's growing bonfire of paranoia.  

The movie is part drama and part thriller, imbued with over-the-top histrionics common in stage productions.  Darren Aronofsky's visual style is well-suited to this approach.  Cinematographer Matthew Libatique utilizes a nifty touch of shooting the actors from over the shoulder, allowing the audience to see only what they see, at the very moment they see them.  It a skillful approach, one that emphasizes the threatening atmosphere as it begins to choke the innocence out of Nina.  Clint Mansell's score adds to the unforgiving ambiance.  The film has an effectively claustrophobic feel that is relentless.

I am becoming more appreciative of Darren Aronofsky's artistic approach with each film.  I have a few friends who have considered him a genius from the starting gate, but it has taken me a little longer to admire all he brings to the table.  For me, he is getting better at combining his unusual artistic style with a narrative approach that isn't too obtuse for the audience.  (Fans of his will no doubt burn me in effigy for using the word "obtuse" in the same sentence as Darren Aronofsky, and I'll cop to the fact that the failing may be my own lack of comprehension, but what can I say?  I once tried to extrapolate meaning from Aronofsky's "The Fountain."  That was four years ago.  I'm still recovering.)  


The performances are spot on.  Portman has a role that is both challenging and somewhat thankless.  Her character undergoes the most marked transformation, though it's brought about from being at the mercy of outside influences.  She goes through the greatest change, but her character is the least mysterious.  When I first heard Mila Kunis was cast as a ballet dancer, I was a little skeptical.  She is indeed a lovely young woman, though her sex appeal has seemed to me to be rather tomboyish in nature.  That serves her well here, as she is playing a character the embodies everything that Nina must gravitate toward for her final transformation into the Black Swan.  As it happens, she was perfectly cast.


Playing a lecher without a hint of self-awareness is not as easy as it sounds.  As dance instructor Thomas Leroy, Vincent Cassel skillfully combines a rather lewd approach to his profession with a boyish charm that manages to seduce his dancers, even though anyone who exists outside the world of ballet would slap this guy silly.  

Barbara Hershey sinks her teeth much further into the mother role than one might expect.  She has a limited amount of screen time, yet we feel by the movie's end that we know almost as much about her as we do about Nina.  And Winona Ryder makes an interesting acting choice for Beth; she plays her not really as a fully dimensional character, but more as a figment of Nina's paranoia.  Her presence has a ghostlike feel.  It really is a fascinating performance.  


By the film's conclusion, I was drained.  That's what I imagine Aronofsky was going for.  The movie has a visceral effect on the viewer.  It manages to be both claustrophobic and curiously seductive.  By the film's end we hear the word "perfect" whispered over a blinding white light.  The sanctity of one's soul seems a high price to pay... even for perfection.  Although perhaps the only way for one trapped in a centrifuge of paranoia to free themselves is to push all the way through to the other side.


Maybe that's where a ballet dancer's dedication and perseverance comes from.  Or maybe I'm just too drained to think straight.  My psyche was stretched to the limit.


* * * 1/2  out of  * * * *  stars

"127 Hours"

Runtime:  94 minutes

Rated R for language and some disturbing violent content/bloody images

Cast: James Franco, Amber Tamblyn, Kate Mara, Clemence Poesy, Kate Burton

Director: Danny Boyle

**This review may contain spoilers for those unfamiliar with the true story of Aron Ralston.**

The look on his face says it all. It's a difficult expression to describe. Sort of between a post-initial shock and a pre-despair setting in. Call it a cosmic disbelief.

How can this have happened to him? Just a short time earlier skilled mountain climber and thrill seeker Aron Ralston (James Franco) was enjoying a swim with a couple cute strangers (Amber Tamblyn and Kate Mara) in a stunning underground lake deep within the caverns embedded in the quiet, vast, and desolate Utah country. And now? Here he is, having just slipped down a crevasse as a small boulder has fallen in such a way to pin his right arm, trapping him deep in an isolated canyon. His new found friends have already left the area. He informed no one of his destination before heading out. His water already in short supply. Uninhabited land for miles. Time offering no mercy. Escape seems a cruel pipe dream. This is the ultimate "oops" moment.

"127 Hours", based on Ralston's aptly named book "Between a Rock and a Hard Place", recounts the true life horror faced as Aron Ralston came toe-to-toe with the most cruel of fates. We know the story by now. That doesn't impact the power this film manages to unleash on the viewer. This is a gut-wrenching experience.

The idea of being trapped brings to mind another movie released earlier this year, "Buried." That one was constructed more like a thriller, while this film--harrowing as it is--plays more like a love letter to the human survival spirit. Sort of like how Cormac McCarthy's "The Road" is, despite its level of graphic violence, a love letter to humanity.

The idea of this is unsettling enough, but director Danny Boyle isn't interested in making a docudrama. He is an artist at heart, and incorporates a slew of unusual visual touches in an effort to dissect the psychology of the experience. These touches include shots from inside Ralston's water bottle as the remaining liquid seeps out, time lapse photography conveying the mere fifteen minutes of sunlight that creep into the crevasse each day, and various split-screen effects showing everything from hallucinations to flashbacks.

Throughout the ordeal, Ralston flashes back to various experiences, but two stood out for me. One involves a phone call taken by his answering machine just prior to his departure. The message was from his mother, but he left without returning her call. Now his mind is infiltrated by the image of the answering machine itself, the flashing light sadistically teasing his subconscious thoughts. The other is from a sporting event where Ralston and his girlfriend at the time (Clemence Poesy) break up. We don't know the context of the split itself, but we don't need to know. It's one of those life moments where one's relationship frustrations seem important at the time, yet trivial when one stares death in the face.

Mainstream audiences really didn't latch onto the talent of Danny Boyle until his Oscar win for "Slumdog Millionaire." Yet he's been churning out brilliant works of cinematic art for years now, from the drug-addiction drama "Trainspotting" to the zombie-like terror of "28 Days Later..." to the coming-of-age drama "Millions" to the under-appreciated science-fiction thriller "Sunshine." Boyle and his longtime collaborator Simon Beaufoy have managed to find the humanity in all their stories, regardless of genre. Artists to the core. Here, they dive deep into the psychological machinations of this horrific situation while pulling no punches in displaying the willpower Ralston summons to do what needs to be done to return to his loved ones. The severing of his limb--including the snapping of bone and slicing of tendons and ligaments--is shown in excruciating detail.

James Franco is an ideal choice to play Ralston. An actor imbued with both insanely good looks and the impetus to chuck them on a dime if it will improve his artistic craft, he could probably have his pick of standard leading man roles but opts out for smaller, quirkier parts in "Milk" as Harvey Milk's long-suffering partner and as the stoner Saul in "Pineapple Express." Here he masterfully conveys Ralston's decaying mental state as the hours go by. At one point, as delirium inches ever closer, he engages in a kind of "tv interview" with himself over the absurdity of his situation. In the middle of it, he stops, softly whispers the word "oops" and slowly shakes his head. Tears do not form... his situation is beyond that. All that's left now is his thoughts. Contemplations. Realizations on how one's future is sadistically determined by the most arbitrary of factors and decisions. The mind can be a dangerous thing when one has the time to explore its depths.

With the danger of defeatist thoughts, however, comes the heart and willpower to find ways to survive, and Aron Ralston managed to do just that. The movie is a triumph of will, yes, but it's also a reminder to value each and every moment we have. Unfortunate spells of "oops" will happen. There's no way to prevent them. We're human. Those moments come with the territory. All we can do is realize that the arbitrary factors which determine our fate also serve as a reminder of how valuable the journey of life itself is. If only it didn't take extreme situations to realize that.

* * * *  out of  * * * *  stars

"True Grit"

Runtime:2 hr. 8 min.

Rated PG-13 for some intense sequences of western violence including disturbing images

Cast: Jeff Bridges, Josh Brolin, Matt Damon, Hailee Steinfeld, Barry Pepper

Directors: Joel and Ethan Coen

I spend a lot of time and review space lamenting on how a movie's visual style is usually at the service of a story that more often than not doesn't hold up.  The Coen Brothers belong to a special category of filmmakers whose cinematic style isn't at the service of anything.  It's an art form in and of itself.

Consider the decision to update the classic western "True Grit."  At first I wondered why they would feel the need to remake it.  About ten minutes into the movie, however, I discovered I didn't care why.  The story may be familiar, but their unique style is more than enough for me.  

It's not so much a remake of the 1969 John Wayne flick as it is its own adaptation of the Charles Portis novel.  Irony and cynicism are nowhere to be found.  This is straight up, pure entertainment…engaging, witty, occasionally violent, often quite funny, and without any undertow of misanthropy that seems embedded with most movie narratives these days. 

After her father is murdered by halfwit hired hand Tom Chaney, fourteen-year-old farm girl Mattie Ross (newcomer Hailee Steinfeld) embarks on a mission to capture his killer.  After a bit of detective work, she enlists the help of Ruben J. “Rooster” Cogburn (Jeff Bridges).  He’s the toughest U.S. Marshal around, though many question his violent, incorrigible tactics.  His character is called into question while testifying in open court.  (He’s asked exactly how many men have been on the receiving end of his punishment.  “Shot or killed?” is his supercilious reply.)  For Mattie, however, honor is a poor substitute for retribution.  Cogburn is a solid mixture of fury and indifference.  He’s perfect.

At first he rebuffs her request but soon relents, takes her money and leaves her behind, teaming up with LeBoeuf (Matt Damon), a proud Texas ranger who wishes to capture Chaney for unrelated crimes.  Mattie catches up them, convinces them to allow her to ride along.  Together, they set out into the Indian Nations to nab Chaney (Josh Brolin) who has taken refuge with a gang led by Lucky Ned Pepper (an unrecognizable Barry Pepper). 

Hailee Steinfeld is a relative newcomer to the business.  (She recently appeared in the short-lived Fox tv comedy series “Sons of Tucson”.)  She’s a terrific centerpiece of the film... not so much a scene-stealer, as it’s not a scene-stealing role.  Yet she holds the center of the movie with a sharp wit and a stubbornness that carries the narrative through to its conclusion. 

Taking the reigns of Cogburn from the iconic John Wayne, Jeff Bridges combines a curious mixture of brutality and indifference.  Sympathy has long since been siphoned from his mindset, though he does perceive when outside influences like one’s pride or lust interfere with the task at hand.  (At one point, he stops LeBoeuf from spanking Mattie for no other reason than LeBoeuf seems to be enjoying it too much.)  Bridges also incorporates an off-handedness in his line delivery, spouting off insults like they’re mere observations of a weathered old soul.  ("If ever I meet one of you Texas waddies who ain't drunk water from a hoofprint, I think I'll... I'll shake their hand or buy 'em a Daniel Webster cigar," is followed up with the following observation regarding LeBoeuf's horse... "How long you buys down there been mounted on sheep?")

In the Glen Campbell role, Matt Damon is a humorous contrast to Cogburn's detachment, playing LeBoeuf (pronounced "Le Beef") as an all-too-proud ranger at the mercy of those who doubt his ability.  The capture of the elusive Chaney is as vital to him as it is to Mattie.  So much so to the point where we start to wonder if he truly wants justice, or wants people to stop thinking he's not that effective at his job.  Both, I'd imagine, and in unfortunate equal measure.

Josh Brolin's role as a small one, but memorable.  He portrays Chaney as the true halfwit that he is.  His impulsive behavior is not bred from a personality quirk, but rather the offspring of cerebral laziness.  The slightest molecule of thought requires too much effort on his part.  His confrontation with the pistol-toting Mattie on the river is so brazen and foolish that it's a miscarriage of Darwinian justice that this idiot has stayed alive as long as he has.   

The combination of Jess Gonchor’s production design and longtime Coen cinematographer Roger Deakins results in an atmosphere of both pure western sagebrush allure and harsh, unforgiving barrenness that gives rise to unsavory acts of aggression.  It’s a beautiful movie to look at, enveloping us into its setting with amazing ease.

Will this one rank with the best of the Coen’s films?  I doubt it.  There are too many great ones in the mix.  With a seemingly limitless well of ideas from which to develop, Joel and Ethan Coen’s choice to update “True Grit” still does give me pause.  No matter.  As I was wrapped up in the story, I simply didn’t care.  The thought was moot.  I was grateful for the experience of watching a movie that stands alone against the cynicism that permeates the current American psyche.  This is a great escape.  I’d rather not look this gift horse in the mouth. 

* * * 1/2  out of  * * * *  stars

"Stone"

Runtime:1 hr. 45 min.

Rated R for strong sexuality and violence and pervasive language

Cast: Robert De Niro, Edward Norton, Milla Jovovich, Frances Conroy, Enver Gjokaj

Director: John Curran

**This review may contain spoilers.**

"Stone" contains plot elements that could easily serve a standard, B-grade potboiler, but director John Curran and screenwriter Angus MacLaclan alter the standard genre thriller approach, choosing instead to give these characters a bit more consideration.  This imbues the film with an added degree of intrigue, though it does slow the story's pace a bit, and could easily put off audiences expecting to see a rapid-fire thriller.  This movie did not score well with both critics and audiences, and while I appreciated the filmmakers' off-beat approach to the material, I can certainly understand others' frustrations.

The movie centers around four individuals.  First, we have Jack Mabry (Robert De Niro), a case officer for a Michigan correctional facility who is a mere one week from his retirement.  One of his final cases is that of Gerald "Stone" Creeson (Edward Norton), a corn-row headed ranting sociopath convicted of killing his grandparents.  Like all convicts, Stone harbors no illusion that he'll be able to convince Mabry to secure his release, so he enlists the help of his girlfriend Lucetta (Milla Jovovich) to entice Mabry; earn his trust and perhaps even arouse his sexual desire.  Mabry is married to Madylyn (Frances Conroy), a long-suffering soul who has taken refuge in her spiritual devotion to escape years of manipulation and neglect at the hands of her emotionally distant husband.

Right away we see how this movie could have played differently had it simply been a standard genre thriller.  Mabry would be the flawed yet engaging hero.  Stone would be the vile, manipulative villain who is constantly one step ahead of the protagonist.  Instead, the film views these characters from far more complex angles.  Mabry is a man embroiled in a lifelong, brutal self-loathing.  We are given a glimpse of this in a shocking opening sequence, as we see Jack and Madylyn early on in their marriage.  She confronts him about his neglect toward her, says that she is going to leave him.  His response to her threat crystallizes the depth of his self-hatred. 

Upon their first meeting, Stone senses this particular inner-demon.  The reason, I think, he sends his girlfriend to Mabry's door isn't necessary to seduce him, but more to offer him a kind of portal of escape from the loathing that surrounds him.  Simply throwing Lucetta into the mix for sexual pleasure would seem to run counter to his ultimate goal of manipulating Mabry into securing his release.  Lucetta tells Mabry the same thing later in the film, when he accuses the two of them of "playing" him.  ("I wouldn't f--- you if I didn't want to, Jack.")  Jovovich plays Lucetta as a sexpot with the scatter-brained attention of a ten-year-old.  Her sexual passion is mixed with a kind of ADD. 

Stone, meanwhile, has begun his own trek toward a would-be spiritual reclamation.  Is it legitimate?  Hard to say because even if he himself believes it, Stone has spent so many years engaging in various bouts of manipulation that the truth is now the most alien of concepts.  I'm reminded of Sean Penn's character in "Dead Man Walking" asking Sister Helen what exactly he needs to pray in order to guarantee himself a spot in heaven, as though there was some kind of skeleton key to the Pearly Gates. 

At the center sits the self-hating Mabry, who does engage in a sexual relationship with Lucetta though never really falls for her.  It only serves to harden his own inner-turmoil.  So why, then, does he sign off on Stone's release?  I think for the same reason Stone seeks spiritual guidance, Lucetta surrenders to her sexual passions, and Madylyn retires to her biblical teachings.  All are seeking some form of restitution, though none know where to find it.  That, I believe, is the point of the movie.  It draws a line in the sand between true redemption and merely extricating oneself from a difficult situation.  All the players find various ways to alter their current predicaments, though none really find the way toward sanctification.  They're all on their own kind of emotional parole.

Is it a great film?  Not really.  It has moments of intrigue, but director Curran focuses so much attention on the eccentricities and possible motives of its characters, so much so that the narrative seems to pull itself apart.  The story has a disjointed, unfocused feel.  Both De Niro and Norton are brilliant here, and I understand Curran wanting to give both actors equal screen time, but that approach seems to be the film's undoing.  Mabry's story is, to me, the more interesting, and I think it would have worked better had the story focused more attention on him.  The scenes with Stone seeking his own spiritual redemption feel like a distraction.  Especially since it's never quite clear whether those aspirations are legitimate.  I enjoy a good character study, but sometimes it's better to focus the attention on one character rather than several.

I'm torn here.  Movies like this are hard to review.  I'm glad the filmmakers opted not to make a standard genre thriller, even though the end result isn't completely successful.  If nothing else, it's an occasionally fascinating character study and a showcase of the tremendous performances of De Niro and Norton, playing two men shielded from purification by their inherent need to manipulate their immediate environment.

* * 1/2  out of  * * * *  stars

"How Do You Know"

Runtime:1 hr. 56 min.

Rated PG-13 for sexual content and some strong language

Cast: Reese Witherspoon, Owen Wilson, Paul Rudd, Jack Nicholson

Director: James L. Brooks

"How Do You Know" has an appropriate title, as the characters spend heavy chunks of time talking on and on, often to themselves, occasionally to others who may or may not be listening, all in an effort to find out exactly when you're in love and how to obtain it.  The writer/director is James L. Brooks ("As Good As It Gets") who specializes in quirky, likable characters struggling to get the most out of their haphazard lives.  So, I didn't really mind that most of the main players here bordered on the neurotic.  I just figured when the movie settles into itself and turns the corner, I knew I'd be interested to see where each one ends up.  The problem was, the movie never turned the corner.  The plot wanted to move forward but the characters didn't. 

The story focuses on three people.  First, we have Lisa (Reese Witherspoon), a professional softball player whose career was cut short after being dropped from the team.  Second, we have George (Paul Rudd), a kind, likable, all-too-trusting businessman whose reluctance to cover his own ass has left him in hot water in his company as a federal indictment has been levied against him.  Third, we have Matty (Owen Wilson), a professional baseball pitcher with the Washington Nationals. 

After Lisa's softball days are cut short, she makes a rather impulsive decision to move in with her boyfriend, Matty.  Matty is charming and rich, though has a problem with commitment.  She later meets George, who in an effort to escape the fear of being indicted and how that will affect his father/boss (Jack Nicholson), calls her for a date, though is far too mentally preoccupied to be much of a conversationalist.  Lisa does manage to bring him out of his shell, and the two start to grow close.  Lisa then teeters back and forth, trying to determine which guy...

...you get the idea.  The fundamental problem here is that the movie never becomes anything.  Never grows.  Never evolves.  Instead, it seems to revel in the neuroses of its characters.  Writer/director Brooks was stellar in his heyday ("Broadcast News", "Terms of Endearment") but not so here.  This one follows in lockstep with his more recent "I'll Do Anything" and "Spanglish."  The movie does have some moderately funny moments, but it seems like Brooks has stopped taking the time to develop his eccentric characters fully, choosing instead to rub familiar comic elements together as though they were kindling and hoping something will catch fire. 

There is potential in these characters, but because they're constantly wrapped up in their own quasi-masochistic thought processes, none of their stories have an arc to it.  Even in scenes where they appear together, there's never any real connection.  They just flutter from thought to thought, embroiled in self-doubt.  The only character that is effective is Matty, if only for the fact that he's the one with the most limited self-analysis.  It speaks volumes when the most likable character in the movie is also the most transparent. 

Both Reese Witherspoon and Paul Rudd bring everything they can to their respective roles.  Rudd is a little more effective, mainly because he possesses a knack for elevating pathological goofiness to an art form.  ("Dad, are you going to make me literally run away from bad news?") 

Playing a character one could either fall in love with or strangle depending on your fluctuating patience level, Witherspoon gives it her best, but is ultimately less effective.  Her character is so flaky--her mood swings and romantic choices so arbitrary--that it's impossible for us to care for her, let alone understand why nice guy George would. 

Owen Wilson seems to be typecast here, but there's a reason for that... he's funny playing this type of lecher.  Notice the way his eyes glaze over when Lisa expresses her need to tell him about her day.  It's ever so subtle, but noticeable enough to evoke a laugh. 

As George's shady father/boss, Jack Nicholson attempts to throw whatever additional humor he can into the mix, although he's playing a character so unsavory that there's very little to work with.  He knows the material isn't working.  You can read it on his face.  That's the thing about really intelligent actors... they have a hard time selling something they know inside is ineffective.

With the bar being continually lowered as far as the quality of romantic comedies goes these days, I really expected a bit more out of this movie.  The movie, like the characters in it, required a tad too much patience from me in order to stay interested.  At one point late in the film, Lisa takes an excruciatingly long time opening a present from George.  He sits calmly, a smile etched onto his face.  Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she looks up at him.  "Thanks for not rushing me."  All I could think was damn, George, there had better be a lot more where that came from.

* *  out of  * * * *  stars

"The Fighter"

Runtime:1 hr. 54 min.

Rated R for some violence, sexuality, language throughout and drug content

Cast: Mark Wahlberg, Christian Bale, Amy Adams, Melissa Leo

Director: David O. Russell

Family ties are a tricky thing. They can be a means of strength and support, but can also be a bane to one's existence should they impede the philosophical or emotional growth of a person. This is more common than one might expect, as love breeds insecurity, which unfortunately breeds manipulation without the cognizance to control it. David O. Russell's "The Fighter" comes billed as a sports movie, and it is a sports movie. But it's also about the fall and subsequent redemption of two brothers, and how their family ties enable both their descent as well as their need to rise again.

The story is inspired by the true events leading up to small town boxer Micky Ward's surprising rise to earn a Welterweight Title fight in 1993. As the movie opens, we see half-brothers Micky Ward (Mark Wahlberg) and Dicky Eklund (Christian Bale in full "Machinist"-mode, looking gaunt as ever) on the streets of Lowell, Massachusetts as a camera crew tracks their every move. Dicky addresses the camera, claiming it's a documentary about his boxing comeback. (Eklund is considered the pride of Lowell, as he was a former boxing great who once knocked down Sugar Ray Leonard in a fight, though some dispute the claim, insisting Leonard slipped.) We later learn, however, that the film crew is actually taping a documentary on the effects of drug addiction. Dicky now spends his days lounging in a crack house, his glory days a mere speck in his life's rear-view mirror.

Micky is a young upstart boxer, managed by his mother Alice (Melissa Leo) and trained by Dicky, of course when Dicky isn't losing all track of time and responsibility in the crack house. Alice is not a particularly skilled boxing manager and has more or less appointed herself to the position based on her love of the sport and devotion to family. Micky is on a losing streak, so much so that he soon garners a reputation as being a "set-up" fight for other boxers to improve their own rankings. One night in a bar Micky meets a sexy, sharp-tongued young bartender named Charlene (Amy Adams) who, upon learning Micky's name, says "You're the stepping stone, right? The one other fighters use to get ahead?" Right away we realize this isn't the start of some obligatory movie romance, but the catalyst for Micky to break free from his family's influence, and take his life and potential career into his own hands. Resistance is met. Hard.

The two brothers have a slew of over-protective sisters who serve as a kind of social military force against any they believe not worthy of their brothers' attention. They immediately take a disliking to Charlene for a variety of reasons, including the fact that she went to college. To them, this means she is a party-girl. An "MTV Girl" they call her. Alice also wastes no time in packing the group into her car and driving over to Micky's apartment upon hearing the news that he has fired her as his manager. There is a neighborhood familial standoff on his porch, and punches are eventually thrown between the sisters and Charlene. To the outside observer, this is absurd behavior. But when your love runs as insanely deep as Alice's does for her children, it renders her blind to the effects her own insecurity has on her family, whether it be Micky's sagging career or Dicky's addiction.

Wahlberg holds the center of the film nicely, playing a thoughtful, introspective fighter who struggles to find the right balance between what he requires to move ahead and what he needs to stay grounded. It is, however, the least juiciest role. Christian Bale earned a most deserved Supporting Actor Oscar.  His crucial moment comes during a screening of the documentary while in prison. Before it begins, he pumps up the cafeteria crowd in his usual histrionic fashion, yet once he sees his life laid bare before him on screen while (for once) no one cheers in the background, the reality is simply too much. 

As Charlene, Amy Adams makes a believable source of strength and inspiration for Micky. It's hard to believe that the actress who portrayed the doe-eyed princess in "Enchanted" fits so perfectly in with the hard personalities that make up the rough streets of Lowell, Massachusetts. And Melissa Leo took home the Supporting Actress Oscar, playing a mother whose aggressive behavior forever stems from an unconditional love that others can barely comprehend. 

The screenplay is by Scott Silver, Paul Tamasy, and Eric Johnson. It wisely avoids any kind of grandiloquent speeches, even in moments when Micky's two worlds start to come together. I especially liked the scene where Dicky and Charlene finally have a meeting-of-the-minds (of sorts) on her porch. They put their differences aside, though they do so through a back-and-forth volley of verbal jabs. ("Let's get something straight, okay Dicky? You didn't knock down Sugar Ray. He slipped.") They eventually come to their own version of an understanding. 

Overall, it's a decent movie, if not a splendid one. Both "Rocky" and "Raging Bull" set the bar unusually high for boxing films.  Still, though, I admired the performances, the observations of family dynamics, and the realization that sometimes to truly honor the ones you grew up loving, you need to break free from their influence. Only then can you find your own voice, your own strength, and your own best way to love them back.

* * *  out of  * * * *  stars

"Tron: Legacy"

Runtime: 2 hr. 7 min.

Rated PG for sequences of sci-fi action violence and brief mild language

Cast: Garrett Hedlund, Jeff Bridges, Beau Garrett, Bruce Boxleitner, Olivia Wilde, Michael Sheen

Director: Joseph Kosinski

"Tron: Legacy" is a loud, thundering, visually stunning special effects experience with a plot that exists for no other purpose than to support a loud, thundering, visually stunning special effects experience. That's not really a bad thing. Movies like this needn't be deep; just entertaining. This is entertaining, if only for its visual style.

The original film was released back in 1982 and to be honest, I have not viewed the movie since that year. I didn't revisit it before watching the sequel, but I don't think my reaction would have varied all that much. The selling points here are the visuals, and the movie doesn't disappoint in that regard.

One fateful night Kevin Flynn (Jeff Bridges), CEO of software giant Encom, mysteriously disappears without word, leaving his seven-year-old son behind.  Cut to twenty years later.  Sam (Garrett Hedlund) has elected not to take over his father's company, opting instead to be an idealistic thorn in the side of its board of directors.  One night, Sam's trusted confidant on the board Alan Bradley (Bruce Boxleitner) approaches him with news that he's received a mysterious page from Kevin Flynn himself.  Sam is skeptical, though he returns to his father's arcade to investigate.  He fights the dust, navigates through the array of 80s arcade games, flips the power on, and immediately Journey's "Separate Ways: Worlds Apart" blasts from the jukebox speakers.  (A little too obvious foreshadowing.)  With more investigative work, Sam discovers his father's secret office behind the Tron game.  Soon Sam finds himself unwittingly zapped into "The Grid."  I won't reveal much of what he discovers in The Grid, except for the obvious fact that he soon finds his father, and with the help of a jaw-droppingly cute computer program (never thought I'd use that term) named Quorra (Olivia Wilde), Sam must help his father escape through the soon-to-be-forever-closed portal.

The director is Joseph Kosinski, who I know practically nothing about other than he seems to be a visual effects wizard with a Disney contract.  (His next project is a "re-imagining" of the 1979 science-fiction flick "The Black Hole".)  The movie looks sensational.  The production design is quite complex, though both the fight scenes as well as the chase scenes are choreographed in a manner that makes them refreshingly easy to follow.  Too many action movies nowadays use a "Bourne"-style shaking camera effect that grows nauseating.  I appreciated the fact that I could follow the action scenes here.  Observe the strategy of the participants.  Actually comprehend the outcome for a change.

Special effects are also put to good use in "de-aging" Bridges for his role as Clu, Flynn's nefarious alter-ego who, in an effort to create a perfect "world" engages in a bizarre form of cyber-genocide.  He does look a bit like the younger Jeff Bridges.  It's obviously CG.  (Common sense prevents us from foolishly thinking otherwise.)  But the end result is passable enough.

The screenplay by Edward Kitsis and Adam Horowitz does incorporate a significant amount of exposition and a couple quieter scenes involving Sam and his father.  Those scenes more or less work, although they do slow the story's pace considerably.  I did, however, appreciate the screenplay's observation that perfection seems at first to be a noble pursuit, until the realization sets in that perfection can never be fully understood.

What can you say about the acting here?  Bridges has the most fun, playing the elder Flynn with a combination of Kenobi-like paternalistic instincts crossed with a new age hopefulness.  (At one point, he chastises his son by saying "You're killing my Zen thing here, Sam!")  Garrett Hedlund chooses to play Sam with a kind of Keanu Reeves "non-acting" acting style... which is fine.  (What other technique is he going to use for this kind of story?)  I don't know what sort of preparation one would need to portray a computer program, but Olivia Wilde does as good a job as any, I suppose.  She has a wide-eyed eagerness that is quite endearing.  Although that observation seems moot, as she was obviously cast not because of her ability to play a program, but because she looks sexy as hell in a skin-tight bodysuit.  I'm not complaining.

I opted to watch the movie in 3D.  (Although a healthy early chunk of the story was shot in 2D, the 3D footage held off until Sam enters The Grid.)  The movie has been heavily hyped that it's the kind of flick meant for 3D.  Here's the thing about 3D for me... even in good 3D movies, there comes a point in the story where I forget I'm watching the added dimensional effect, and am just pulled along with the narrative.  Yes, the movie looks great.  But it would look great in 2D as well.  Let me put it this way:  if I had watched the movie in regular 2D, the only difference in the review would be that you would have saved yourself the last minute reading this final paragraph.  I doubt I'll ever be convinced that it's worth the additional cost of watching a movie in 3D.  Take that as you will.

* * *  out of  * * * *  stars

"Buried"

Runtime:1 hr. 40 min.

Rated R for language and some violent content

Cast: Ryan Reynolds, Ivana Mino, Stephen Tobolowsky, Samantha Mathis

Director: Rodrigo Cortes

Try to imagine it.  Or better yet, don't.  I don't know if Paul Conroy (Ryan Reynolds) ever imagined a scenario like this when he opted for employment driving a relief supply truck through the Iraq landscape, but here he is... trapped in a coffin below ground, armed with only a lighter and a captor-provided cell phone.  Time and oxygen a rapidly dwindling commodity.  The idea is sick.

"Buried" is an audacious little bit of filmmaking.  The entire movie is set inside the coffin that houses our protagonist.  Audacity in film can be quite the asset.  ("The Blair Witch Project", "Memento", and "Open Water" come to mind as financially successful endeavors bred from the inventiveness of their concepts.)  Sometimes, however, an out-of-the-box approach to cinematic storytelling can work against a movie if the audience is unable to connect with the way the narrative is being presented.  Here is a movie that lies somewhere in the middle.  It wasn't a box-office hit, even though this is virtuoso filmmaking.  I suspect the concept was a little too effective for its own good. 

This review is a positive one.  I admired the hell out of the craftsmanship on display here.  Not only from director Rodrigo Cortes and screenwriter Chris Sparling, but from the performance of Reynolds who, given the physical limitations inherent in this type of story, does a masterful job of conveying both the psychological effect this could have on the mind as well as the resourcefulness when given slight glimmers of hope that he may yet see the light of day.  Despite my glowing admiration, I waste no time is saying this cinematic experience is not for everyone. 

I'm sure you can imagine how a good portion of the movie plays out.  Director Cortes uses a variety of techniques to convey the claustrophobic nature of the situation. There are a few lengthy stretches of time where we sit in total darkness and only hear the sounds of scraping, cussing, and gasping, as Conroy struggles to locate his lighter.  Then there is the scene where the cell phone vibrates and flashes for the first time, but we see it rests near his feet.  We're then forced to imagine the horror of attempting to slide the phone from the far end of the coffin upward before the vibration stops.  It's brutal. 

Once he grasps the phone and begins calling, a whole new kind of horror unfolds.  This is where the movie shows its true effectiveness.  We're not only made to imagine the physical torture an experience like this could have, but we begin to sense the unsettling notion of being "forgotten" by the outside world.  Conroy first dials 911, then tries 411 and asks for an FBI field office, but try explaining your situation to someone half a world away.  I felt almost as exasperated as Conroy when hearing the verbal responses to his pleas for help.  It's not cruelty on the part of those on the phone's other end; merely the laid-back relative indifference we've grown accustomed to in daily verbal interaction.  But when the air you're currently breathing dissipates by the second, that indifference is an additional choke hold. 

There are a few specific conversations that cut deepest.  One involves his captor, who he tries explaining that he's not a soldier; merely a contractor.  The captor isn't fazed.  "Contractor.  Blackwater?" he asks accusingly.  He orders him to make a ransom video using the phone camera.  Another involves his mother, who resides at a hospice and suffers from Alzheimer's.  The most excruciating conversation for me, however, involved the personnel director for the contractor Conroy works for.  Voiced by Stephen Tobolowsky, he listens to Conroy's pleas, sympathizes, then activates a recorder to get on record Conroy's termination from the company, and because the termination happened while he is alive, his family will not receive any financial compensation in the unfortunate event of his death.  Sick.

He finally gets through to Dan Brenner (Robert Paterson), who leads the investigations into those reported missing in the area.  Conroy is given various instructions, including one to not record the video for the captors.  Later, after receiving word from the terrorists that his friend will be shot if he doesn't comply, he agrees.  This doesn't sit well with Brenner.  "Why the hell did you make that video?" he asks.  "It's all over YouTube.  Now the terrorists have no choice but to go through with their threat."  Conroy sees through this, accuses Brenner of trying to suppress bad press.  He is fundamentally correct here.  Common sense shines a floodlight on the falsehood of Brenner's statement.  If you've been buried in a coffin with the means provided to make your own ransom video, there's no reason for the captors to dig him back up.  Why expend the energy?  Brenner knows this, too.  His desire to find those missing I believe to be genuine, but he's clearly measuring the decreasing possibility of Conroy's escape against his orders from the image-conscious military brass. 

Brenner later calls, informs Conroy that he is tracking the cell phone's signal, is getting closer to his location, and to hang in there.  Hope weighed against the cruel fate of time and rapidly-thinning air.  Seconds tick.  The stench of death floods the coffin.  Gasps escape Conroy's mouth; each one might be his last.  Help is on its way.  Getting closer.  Gasps.  Cries.  A ticket into the next world?  Or the chance that light will find its way through the top of the coffin.  Hope dwindling, but not quite dead.  More gasps.  More cries.  Quick, shallow breaths. 

Sick, sick stuff.

* * * 1/2  out of  * * * *  stars

"Jack Goes Boating"

Runtime:1 hr. 29 min.

Rated R for some sexual content, drug use and language

Cast: Philip Seymour Hoffman, Amy Ryan, John Ortiz, Daphne Rubin-Vega, Tom McCarthy

Director: Philip Seymour Hoffman

It's all too easy to forget that movie audiences and filmmakers often approach the art of cinema in opposite ways.  Movie-goers generally seek escape.  Cinema artisans use the art form as a means of reflection.  At least, indie filmmakers do.  Philip Seymour Hoffman is a proud member of the latter.  His directoral debut, "Jack Goes Boating" is a perfect showcase for his approach to the cinema.

Based on the stage play by Bob Glaudini, the story is not a plot-driven one, choosing instead to focus on two couples; one at the outset of what may or may not turn out to be a lasting union, and another who sees their commitment to one another fall to pieces during the course of the film.  The newly-formed couple are Jack (Hoffman) and Connie (Amy Ryan).  They are brought together via a blind date set up by their friends Clyde (John Ortiz) and Lucy (Daphne Rubin-Vega).  Jack and Clyde both work as limo drivers, but strive for a better lot in life. 

Jack and Connie's first date feels a bit unsettled, although that's more because of their respective social awkwardness.  As he walks her home, she confesses that she'd like to go boating one day.  Of course, it's the middle of winter, so that particular date would be months away.  No problem for Jack; it'll give him time to learn to boat and swim. 

They, like all people, are insecure.  However, both Jack and Connie belong to that specific demographic whose insecurity takes the form of a cloak rather than an internal organ.  On the subway, Connie is approached and subsequently attacked, and we're reminded of how chilling it is that predators are inexplicably imbued with the ability to sniff out fear.  She winds up in the hospital.  Jack visits, they talk, and he agrees to cook for her.  He knows nothing about cooking but if he can learn to swim before summer, he can learn to cook by the time Connie is released from the hospital.  He's going to make this meal perfect.

Clyde and Lucy seem to be a more successful, more socially accepted couple, but they, too, are mired in their own pit of insecurity.  Clyde wears a Bluetooth device whenever he's out in public, yet he actually uses it  so seldom to the point where we realize it's there not for convenience, but for self-esteem.  Lucy battles her own esteem issues by engaging in a series of extramarital affairs.  We learn of one with a chef that lasted two years, and we're hinted that she may be involved with her current boss (Tom McCarthy).  Clyde and Lucy's relationship issues exist in a convoluted centrifuge.  Both have had affairs, both hold onto their resentments, but they have agreed to "stick it out."  Seems noble enough, except that they have unfortunately entered that period in a lot of relationships where they accept the "reality" of their union, and the sadness that accompanies that reality. 

Both couples are given equal consideration, although I suspect audience members will identify more with Clyde and Lucy.  I've known several couples just like them.  Clyde confesses his wife's affair to Jack one night after leaving a restaurant.  (In one of the movie's two terrific visual moments, they talk while seated in the limo's front seat on a stormy winter night.  A snow plow thunders by, splashes slush onto the windshield.  Jack activates the wipers, cleans the windshield, and we see their reflection in the moisture-stained window... it gives the impression of tears streaming down the faces of the two men.) 

Lucy fires back, informing Jack that Clyde had an affair first, though he stated it was only one time in the back of the limo.  "As if that makes it okay!" she retorts.  Fair point, but I do sense a difference.  I got the feeling Clyde really was broken up about his mistake.  Granted, it was in no way condonable.  But I felt he may learn from that mistake and one day enter into a happier union.  I'm not so sure about Lucy.  To engage in a two year affair, then assume you can just emotionally "re-commit" yourself back into your marriage emphasizes a level of cynicism that I suspect couldn't be fully diminished.  The flaws of men may be more obvious, but the cruelty of women is much more far-reaching, as they often convince themselves their acts are justified. 

Clyde is as much to blame, as his need to "stick it out" is bred more from his desire to be viewed as successful by those all around him.  He is so driven by this need that he doesn't understand that his own clinging to his resentment renders him incapable of making his marriage work.  At one point in the film, he saunters behind his wife, wraps his arms around her, cups her breasts.  They chuckle.  Could it be a rare moment of unbridled passion between them?  Then he asks, "Are you happy here?"  Lucy remains silent.  The expression on her face is devastating.  She realizes that she's crushed no so much by her answer to the question, but by the question itself. 

Their scenes are intercut with those between Jack and Connie, as they fight through their social ineptitude to grow closer to one another.  What makes them interesting, however, is that they're not mere babes in the woods in sharp contrast to a seemingly "successful" couple like Clyde and Lucy.  Despite their somewhat clumsy social eccentricities, Jack and Connie are not dumb, and quite perceptive to their friends' crumbling union.  After witnessing the final meltdown between Clyde and Lucy, they return to her apartment and in the movie's other wonderful visual moment, they stand close, arms around each other, heads pressed upon the other's shoulder.  She whispers to him, "We can be together now.  You can overcome me.  Don't hurt me.  But overcome me."  Short-sighted feminists may have a problem with that scene, but it displays a gentle, loving honesty.  She senses his apprehension, acknowledges it, and helps him through it by being honest and true.  Not like Clyde and Lucy, who try to achieve happiness by never confronting that which makes them sad. 

Both Hoffman and Ryan are terrific here.  Particularly Ryan, who combines Connie's vulnerability with an internal emotional strength that can be summoned at the most crucial times. 

"Jack Goes Boating" is an interesting little observation into the lives of individuals we either are, know, or certainly could know.  It's not really a thunderbolt of a movie that'll stay with you for a long time.  It has a curious self-contained feel, though perhaps that's inevitable, as films based on stage plays often do.  But I admired its thoughtfulness and I embraced its optimism.  At the end, we hear in a voice-over conversation Connie telling Jack "You're good."  He replies with "I'm good for you."  Therein, I think, lies the movie's underlying statement.  That realizing you're good for another person is real.  Trying to project the notion that you're good for everybody is a fantasy.  An emotionally devastating one at that. 

* * *  out of  * * * *  stars