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Archive for the category “Biography”

Kundun

Review No. 493

The Dalai Lama is important, but this movie believes otherwise.

MPW-37758

C

DIRECTED BY MARTIN SCORSESE. PRODUCED BY BARBARA DE FINA.  WRITTEN BY MELISSA MATHISON. DALAI LAMA PORTRAYED BY TENZIN THUTHOB TSARONG (ADULT), GYURME TETHONG (AGE 12), TULKU JAMYANG KUNGA TENZIN (AGE 5), AND TENZIN YESHI PAICHANG (AGE 2). ALSO STARRING TENCHO GYALPO, TENZIN TOPJAR, TSEWANG MIGYUR KHANGSAR, TENZIN LODOE, TSERING LHAMO, GESHI YESHI GYATSO, LOBSANG GYATSO, SONAM PHUNTSOK, GYATSO LUKHANG, LOBSANG SAMTEN, TSEWANG JIGME TSARONG, TENZIN TRINLEY, ROBERT LIN, JURME WANGDA, AND JILL HSIA. DISTRIBUTED BY BUENA VISTA PICTURES ON DECEMBER 25, 1997. PRODUCED IN ENGLISH BY THE UNITED STATES. RUNS 2 HOURS, 14 MINUTES. RATED PG-13 BY THE MPAA, FOR VIOLENT IMAGES.

KUNDUN WAS WATCHED ON JUNE 5, 2013.

“Sleep is the best meditation.” –Tenzin Gyatso, 14th Dalai Lama

Martin Scorsese can shock you with a good movie. His oeuvre is composed mainly of films you expect to be outstanding, and they turn out even better. He can shock you even more with something as simple as a good scene. The climactic moments of Goodfellas, for example. His biggest shocks, though, are when he makes a movie that’s less-than-tolerable. It rarely happens, but when does it happen, the lack of effort leaves you speechless with disappointment. He first did this in 1972 with Boxcar Bertha. Granted, that wasn’t exactly his film. It was a crime flick that he directed, but it had B-movie trash producer Roger Corman written all over it.

A movie like Kundun is especially disappointing because it’s something Scorsese typically does better than any director. Scorsese is one of very few who uses his creative license wisely when he goes to work on a biopic. He makes the characters his own by, first, telling about what they accomplished and, more importantly, making us really care about them. We just don’t care about a man who’s made to seem perfect. That’s why we have the psychotic boxer Jake LaMotta (Raging Bull), not the champion boxer Jake LaMotta; and why we have the Howard Hughes who became an entrepreneur because he was a control freak (The Aviator), not the Howard Hughes who was just an entrepreneur.

Behold!  His Holiness, the 14th Dalai Lama, hath come to bore us all to tears!

Behold! His Holiness, the 14th Dalai Lama, hath come to bore us all to tears!

If directing is defined as standing somewhere among the crew members during production, while he decides what to have for dinner, then Scorsese did indeed direct Kundun. The movie has the entire “flawed character” motif down. Written by Melissa Mathison and doctored by the film’s subject himself, the screenplay offers the Fourteenth Dalai Lama as a character we should care about. But we don’t. The lack of care is obvious in the first ten minutes of the film. It’s the sort of sequence you can tell was in the screenplay, but as Scorsese (for whatever reason) doesn’t seem to care about the character, he calls the shots based on an interpretation that we shouldn’t care either.

The scene features a servant of the recently-deceased Thirteenth Dalai Lama finding two-year-old Tenzin Gyatso in his home and, after meeting him, proclaiming that he must become the Fourteenth Dalai Lama when he comes of age; he visits seven years later to consult Gyatso once more. The reason this scene isn’t moving is because it’s not taken solemnly. The ultimate presentation of these ten minutes is basically identical, but emotionally, it’s somewhere between bizarrely unrealistic and unintentionally funny. We have what appears to be a strange, desperate man, walking into a Tibetan household; noticing a child of nine and his obsession with having power, as is natural for an arrogant nine-year-old; and telling him that he will be whisked away so that in six years, he can rule an entire nation. It’s like watching a random passerby walk into an orphanage and ask Oliver Twist if he wants to become the Prime Minister of England. He probably does, but at his innocent, uninformed age, what does he know about the responsibilities?

Kundun isn’t a bad movie, but it would take significant generosity to call it a good one. Editing, music, and cinematography make the historical account look like the work of David Lean. Perhaps Lean would have gotten his hands on it first, if only he hadn’t passed away six years prior; the essential difference between Kundun and The Bridge on the River Kwai is that the latter has a present meaning. Again, the writing clearly did offer some emotion, but only a crumb of it managed its way to the screen. We learn how arrogance led servants to patronize the 14th Dalai Lama much more than honor him. Even here, you kind of question whether or not he deserved to be patronized. We learn some of his responsibilities a bit later in the film, as far as leading a nation is concerned. I wish I could tell you what some of these duties were, but my mind–like Scorsese’s–was much more concerned with what to have for dinner.

NOTE: The film does not feature a single A-list actor, not even from around the region. The cast here does have interesting stories, though. Tenzin Thuthob Tsarong, who portrayed the 14th adult Dalai Lama, is the grandson of the 14th himself. Lobsang Samten, who portrayed the master of the kitchen, is–according to Wikipedia–”an American Tibetan scholar, sand mandala artist, former Buddhist monk, and Spiritual Director of the Tibeta Buddhist Center of Philadelphia.” The stories go on for about 90% of the cast. All very interesting, but just a year’s worth of acting lessons could have helped, too.

Obstruction #1

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The Intouchables

Review No. 467

The memories, the smiles “The Intouchables” left me with are “intouchable.”

intouchables

A-MINUS

WRITTEN AND DIRECTED BY OLIVIER NAKACHE AND ÉRIC TOLEDANO. STARRING FRANÇOIS CLUZET (PHILIPPE) AND OMAR SY (DRISS). ALSO STARRING ABSA DIALOU TOURE, ALBA GAÏA KRAGHEDE BELLUGI, ANNE LE NY, AUDREY FLEUROT, CHRISTIAN AMERI, CLOTILDE MOLLET, CYRIL MENDY, GRÉGOIRE OESTERMANN, MARIE-LAURE DESCOUREAUX, AND SALIMATA KAMATE. DISTRIBUTED BY THE WEINSTEIN COMPANY ON MAY 25, 2012. PRODUCED IN FRENCH BY FRANCE. RUNS 1 HOUR, 53 MINUTES. RATED R BY THE MPAA, FOR LANGUAGE AND SOME DRUG USE.

THE INTOUCHABLES WAS WATCHED ON APRIL 27, 2013.

“This is not just a job anymore.” –Driss (Omar Sy)

As I try and think back to a better time I’ve had at the movies, I feel like I’m subjecting myself to a mental whipping. I watched France’s The Intouchables at a local film festival in late April; one of the festival’s producers prefaced the film by noting that this was one of several films that ended up under the radar last year. Prior to watching the film, this seemed like an indifferent statement. It happens to so many foreign films, for better or for worse, that I just couldn’t help but feel otherwise. But now, I’m curious what dramatic comedy any American would desire to watch instead.

The Intouchables centers on two characters: Driss (Omar Sy) and Philippe (François Cluzet). Driss is a young, African-American male living in a downtown area of France. His family has always hated him, and one day, his involvement in a robbery loses any respect they had for him and exiles him from his household. He needs a job, and he finds himself on a trial period as a caretaker for the middle-aged Philippe (François Cluzet).

Most would think Philippe couldn’t have chosen anybody worse for the job: others interviewed didn’t exactly care for the job, but at least they could sit through an interview without being utterly rude. It’s barely moments after Driss walks into the mansion that he is basking in the upper-class glory; introducing Philippe to the joys of smoking marijuana; taking vigilante action on neighbors who illegally park in front of the mansion; and insisting that the orchestra stop playing Vivaldi so that he can tune his iPod to Earth, Wind & Fire. And yet what Philippe sees in all of this is a heart that no other caretaker could possibly have.

We’ve met the characters in The Intouchables before. This is an “odd couple” movie that doesn’t break any new ground, except for that in sophistication and charm. It feels genuine when the “odd couple” movies we’re used to aren’t the most lavishly told. The Intouchables relies on light, amusing conversations to tell a story about how two polar opposite men can build an unbreakable (and unpredictable) bond with each other. It’s a rather touching story, yet at the same time, a hilarious one. Yes, it’s formulaic; yes, its characters are slight caricatures; and yes, those are both, in all technicality, “flaws.” But I hate to smack that word down on this film. It doesn’t aim for perfection, but it does aim to be a memorable artwork. And it is, no matter how many “odd couple” flicks you’ve seen.

STAY TUNED FOR MY “AMOUR” REVIEW @4:30!

My Left Foot

Review No. 449

Marked by a strong performance and a tortured screenplay.

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Directed by: Jim Sheridan
Screenplay by: Jim Sheridan and Shane Connaughton
Based on: “My Left Foot” by Christy Brown
Christy Brown: Daniel Day-Lewis
Paddy Brown: Ray McAnally
Bridget Brown: Brenda Fricker
Dr. Eileen Cole: Fiona Shaw
Christy Brown (young): Hugh O’Conor
Also Starring: Alison Whelan, Cyril Cusack, Declan Croghan, Eanna MacLiam, Kirsten Sheridan, Marie Conremme, Phelim Drew, Ruth McCabe

Distributed by Miramax Films on November 10, 1989. Produced in English by Ireland. Runs 103 mins. Rated R by the MPAA–mature themes, violence, profanity.

My Left Foot was watched on March 9, 2013.

“And you typed all of it with your left foot?” –Mary Carr (Ruth McCabe)

A severely disabled man endures years of belittlement, before suddenly finding a grand inner talent for which people can appreciate him. For those who weren’t aware, it’s a common formula that has been used for countless character dramas. But it’s only in the hands of a good director and screenwriter that we get something highly memorable. David Lynch, Christopher De Vore, and Eric Bergren set this in stone with 1980′s The Elephant Man, a rather artistic, unpredictable, and yet human take on the life of Joseph Merrick, a horribly disfigured man. And in 1994, Robert Zemeckis and Eric Roth gave Forrest Gump as an example, going into countless exaggerated territories, all while staying poignant and lovable.

I could keep going, but I’m not sure for how much longer. I expected that upon watching My Left Foot, I would feel the same way: intrigued to a familiar setup as if it were the first time. Unfortunately, the film never managed to take any more than my forced interest. As I am writing this, I have just opened a new tab on my web browser–Wikipedia’s article on Christy Brown. I don’t really want to learn more, but I feel that I need to. That is to say that the movie didn’t really acquaint me with its own main character, and because of this lack of depth, I feel I need more information about him in order to write a review.

Here’s what I’ve gathered from the Wikipedia summary. Brown was born on the fifth of June, 1932, and he died just over forty-nine years later. He was born into a working class family living in Dublin, Ireland. Due to cerebral palsy, he grew up using his left foot to complete the tasks of a dominant hand. Later on, he became a famed painter, at which point he earned the respect of those surrounding him almost immediately. He fell in love some time after and chronicled his life in a work titled My Left Foot.

This is a pretty short outline, mind you, but there are bits of even that that don’t make a solid enough appearance in the film adaptation. We learn more about Christy’s mother–his lifelong mentor–than we do about himself. We learn that he has cerebral palsy and can paint well. Little more.

What saves My Left Foot is Daniel Day-Lewis, the film’s own left foot. The drama drags on like a snail until its timer has reached a little over an hour and forty minutes. Yet Day-Lewis is able to ease the hardship of enduring such a length. The man is a true method actor, and I wholeheartedly understand his Academy Award victory for Best Actor. What’s decidedly unfortunate, however, is that the character he portrays is written for the screen as if he were an empty vacuum. For a film of such subject matter, My Left Foot could have been much more thought-provoking.

C

TOMORROW, ON CINEMANIAC REVIEWS…

What’s New Pussycat

The King’s Speech

Review No. 408

kings_speech

The Bottom Line: I highly recommend this p-p-picture…“the letter ‘P’ is always difficult.”

Directed by: Tom Hooper
Screenplay by: David Seidler
King George VI: Colin Firth
Lionel Logue: Geoffrey Rush
Queen Elizabeth: Helena Bonham Carter
King Edward VIII: Guy Pearce
King George V: Michael Gambon
Winston Churchill: Timothy Spall
Myrtle Logue: Jennifer Ehle
Archbishop Cosmo Lang: Derek Jacobi
Also Starring: Anthony Andrews, Claire Bloom, Eve Best, Freya Wilson, Ramona Marquez, Roger Hammond, Tim Downie

Distributed by the Weinstein Company on December 24, 2010. Produced in English by the United Kingdom. Runs 118 mins. Rated R by the MPAA for some language.

The King’s Speech was watched on February 1, 2013.

“Waiting for me to… commence a conversation, one can wait rather a long wait.” –King George VI (Colin Firth)

King George VI stammered, not only when he was nervous, but even when speaking to those of lesser authority, or reading a bedtime story to his daughters. This is what plagued his very existence, and his power as the Duke of York. After absolutely bombing his address to the entire country, the king-to-be seeks help from a speech therapist—any speech therapist—and they all introduce some of the worst, most ineffective methods imaginable. He’s now given up all hope, not willing to trust even the greatest therapist in the country. Worse, the therapist begins his sessions by insisting on calling His Majesty the Patient “Bertie” (his full name is Albert Frederick Arthur George), a nickname penned and kept only inside his family. But will this be the man who decides whether the patient—or impatient, if you will—can venture beyond his agoraphobia, and rid his horrible impediment?

I’m a sucker for the British cinema. It’s something that, in an American’s eyes, is constantly achieving the impossible. Brits are so witty with their brilliant, beautiful use of language; so much that they can produce dramas that can warrant as many tears as chortles. And The King’s Speech is a prime example. It is clever, but it’s not a comedy. It’s a rather serious, ultimately uplifting drama. Note the difference in American cinema. We seem to love slapstick, for whatever reason. Such comedians begin at Jim Carrey and Adam Sandler, but God only knows where the long stream will terminate. I’ll admit, Sandler has starred in Punch-Drunk Love, and Carrey in The Truman Show, but it’d take a lot of effort to assert them as non-comedic dramas.

The 2010 Oscars were marked by several outstanding nominations for Best Picture. True Grit, Inception, and The Social Network were each stunning in their respective rights; perhaps if I were to give any of those a watch right now, one or two fleeting, hairline flaws could hinder an easy “A-plus.” Not for The King’s Speech. The film is flawless, as far as I can see. Director Tom Hooper knows how to arrange everything from musicians to cinematographers to screenwriters. There’s much claustrophobic tension to illustrate such fears experienced by “Bertie.” It’s a three-act play in which the king is the lead, the entire audience is staring down at him from the balcony, and the incidentals are selections by Beethoven. The writer of it all (David Seidler) is, in fact, a stutterer (see footnote), which adds even more authenticity and constriction to the tone.

What’s most amazing about The King’s Speech is how well-intended and -realized it is. I’ve seen it three times, and each time I begin picturing it less and less as a historical account. In my mind, it’s a parable about conquering fear. It’s common in all humans. If this were meant to be a historical projection, the screenplay would encapsulate King George VI’s entire life, not just a minor threshold. If this were meant to be historically accurate, not so much of it would have been dramatized, and there would have been chosen an actor that bore more resemblance to the King. Instead, Colin Firth disappears into his stammer. When the production schedule for The King’s Speech ended, I hear, Firth needed a speech therapist of his own to push away the stammer he had acquired as a result of ingenious method acting.

Footnote: Seidler expressed on a few occasions that his stammer is perhaps a result of experiencing grief at a young age: both his parents were victims of the Holocaust. The one scene in The King’s Speech that suggests this is a climactic moment in which “Bertie” and his family are watching a video of Adolf Hitler speaking. “What’s he saying?” asks one of the King’s daughters. “I don’t know,” he replies, “but…he seems to be saying it rather well.”

A PLUS

Monday Movies of the Mind

The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford

Review No. 394

assassination_of_jesse_james_by_the_coward_robert_ford

The Bottom Line: Like an endless “Pitt.”

Directed by: Andrew Dominik
Screenplay by: Andrew Dominik
Based on: “The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford” by Ron Hansen
Narrated by: Hugh Ross
Jesse James: Brad Pitt
Robert Ford: Casey Affleck
Also Starring: Jeremy Renner, Mary-Louise Parker, Sam Rockwell, Sam Shepard, Ted Levine, Zooey Deschanel

Distributed by Warner Bros. Pictures on September 21, 2007. Produced in English by the United States. Runs 160 mins. Rated R by the MPAA for some strong violence and brief sexual references.

The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford was watched on January 19, 2013.

“I had hope, however; I had been wounded seven times during the war, and once before in this same lung; and I did not believe I was going to die.” –Jesse James

Crime has been famed all throughout history. Off the top of my head, Lizzy Borden, Ed Gein, Jeffery Dahmer, Charles Manson, Jack the Ripper, and the “Zodiac killer” have all undergone this strange transformation from criminals into something of macabre pop culture icons.

Jesse James is a name that hasn’t ceased to accumulate talk. In fact, I wouldn’t hesitate to say that far more people know of him than of any of the aforementioned. There is most likely a vastly lower number of individuals, however, who know about him behind the umpteen urban legends that have spawned.

If you watch The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford expecting a drama accounting the killing itself, you’ll be sorely disappointed. That isn’t to say the title is a misnomer. There’s a reason The Assassination of Jesse James clocks in at two hours, forty minutes.

Jesse James (Brad Pitt) is assassinated shortly after the two hour mark. What precedes this is two hours of character development. We are shown his savage lifestyle, in 1881 Missouri, and how despicable Robert Ford (Casey Affleck) sees him after joining the Missouri outlaw, despite idolizing him since childhood. The film sets up and, for two hours, tricks its audience into believing James is the hero of the story, or rather the anti hero. The development on Ford is so subtle, so carefully handled, the inevitable climax is almost a twist ending.

What follows this scene is over a half hour of easily expendable content. This is composed of what seems like epilogue after epilogue. The only necessary conclusion is a five-minute segment that appears directly before the credits begin rolling.

Most biopics enjoy a certain tradition during the closing credits, in which we see images and videos, depicting the likeness between the cast and those they portrayed. The Assassination of Jesse James does not reciprocate to history in this way, and the reason why is quite possibly because Brad Pitt does not visually disappear into James’s figure. In fact, he looks little more than Brad Pitt in 19th century costume.

This disservice is forgivable, though, simply because the historical figure is flawlessly pitched. Who knows if Jesse James was as carefree, relaxed, and calm as he was fittingly portrayed by Pitt. He was also a mysterious man, one whose family never knew how he brought home so much bacon–or even knew his first name. Surprisingly enough, Pitt nails this side of James, as well.

The Assassination of Jesse James is well written, well acted, well done. It often feels like something that would tell its tale much more elaborately as an HBO mini series. The film is phenomenally paced, but also very slowly paced. I respect that this is as much a Western as it is a biography; at that level, it can be too appreciative of dialogue.

Perhaps an intermission right before the assassination scene would bring more ultimate satisfaction.

B MINUS

Argo

Review No. 388

argo_ver2

The Bottom Line: Argo watch it. Now.

Directed by: Ben Affleck
Written by: Chris Terrio
Based on: “The Master of Disguise” by Antonio J. Mendez; “The Great Escape” by Joshuah Bearman
Tony Mendez: Ben Affleck
Jack O’Donnell: Bryan Cranston
Lester Siegel: Alan Arkin
John Chambers: John Goodman
Also Starring: Bob Gunton, Kyle Chandler, Michael Parks, Philip Baker Hall, Victor Garber

Distributed by Warner Bros. on October 12, 2012. Produced in English and Persian by the United States. Runs 120 minutes. Rated R by the MPAA for language and some violent images.

Argo was watched on January 12, 2013.

“What’s your middle name? What’s your middle name? What’s your middle name? Shoot him, he’s an American spy. Look, they’re going to try to break you, okay, by trying to get you agitated. You have to know your résumé back to front.” –Ben Affleck as Tony Mendez

On November 4th of 1979, members of Tehran’s American Embassy were held in captivity by Islamic students, who were promoting the Iranian Revolution at hand.

Fast-forward to January 28, 1980. The day stands an implausible benchmark in history, marking the successful liberation of six hostages. This was hidden behind a charade: the false production of a science fantasy film called Argo, a low-budget “Star Wars” ripoff from a Canadian film crew. The mission remained classified until 1997, when President Bill Clinton made the story known.

There’s much question as to how accurate last year’s dramatization actually is, but there’s no question it keeps the overwhelming sense of reality lingering, despite the extremely implausible subject matter.

Cheers.

Ben Affleck’s directorial style may not be entirely established yet. His behind-the-camera filmography consists of just three films, the other two being Gone Baby Gone and The Town. Not that that’s a bad thing. Argo gives its director an undeniable guise, as if he were a spectacular reincarnation of Alfred Hitchcock. Character development, cinematography, acting, and writing are all crucial in making this thriller terrifically exhilarating. History expresses the events’ conclusion in a straightforward manner, yet the concentration placed upon each and every happening puts excitement at its apex.

Furthermore, Affleck directs himself impressively. During the end credits, we are shown the likeness of the entire cast to those who were involved. In his appearance as Tony Mendez, the similarities don’t show quite as easily as anyone else billed; but on the other hand, it’s difficult to believe that this is the same Ben Affleck with seven Razzie nominations.

Argo is a monstrously entertaining masterpiece. It represents late 1979 / early 1980 in a highly accessible light, even for viewers who can’t personally recall the time; and while it strictly ratifies the violence in the plot, there isn’t much apparent fear in making light of how a faux film production made history. The two professionals who make the charade seem veritable are the comic reliefs. Their humorous quips are surprisingly necessary, even catalyzing a whole new level of reality from a frame of pure doubt.

Argo isn’t remarkable for its ability to simply entertain, and entertain alone. It’s how everything that makes it so enthralling, is also what establishes it as a rare marvel. Argo watch it as soon as the moment arrives.

A

NOMINEE
Best Director (Ben Affleck)

Sleepwalk with Me

Review No. 386

sleepwalk_with_me

The Bottom Line: Sleepwalk with Me is a quirky, authentic comedy.

Directed by: Mike Birbiglia
Co-Director: Seth Barrish
Written by: Mike Birbiglia and Joe Birbiglia & Ira Glass and Seth Barrish
Matt Pandamiglio: Mike Birbiglia

Distributed by IFC Films on August 24, 2012. Produced in English by the United States. Runs 80 minutes. Rated PG-13 by the MPAA for some sexual content and brief language.

Sleepwalk with Me was watched on January 6, 2013.

“I’m going to tell you a story, and it’s true….I always have to tell people that.” –Mike Birbiglia

Mike Birbiglia starred in, directed, and co-wrote Sleepwalk with Me based on his own personal experiences. It truly is a neat little independent comedy, with surprisingly quirky and deep tones for a film about stand-up.

Within the first minute of the film, Matt—his character—gives us quite an amusing joke. He warns us to silence our cell phones, and then jokes about a time when someone actually picked up a call while he was trying to watch a movie. He’s funny, right?

It comes as a surprise that Matt wasn’t always the “funny guy.” In fact, Sleepwalk humorously relies on a single irony: the supposed comedian isn’t one bit funny, yet just about everyone else is what every stand-up comedian wants to be.

Matt discovers that he isn’t funny for a reason. He’s been wasting his life. Comedy had been his dream ever since the third grade, and instead, he landed a job as a bartender at a venue that features comics. He has no stories to tell from his own life, just run-of-the-mill “guy walks into a bar” jokes. Then he begins sleepwalking, something that gives his comedy an upside, and the rest of his life a downside.

Here he is, sleepwalking, acting out a highly unrealistic dream as it appears in his mind.

I’d never heard of Mike Birbiglia prior to watching Sleepwalk with Me. I don’t often watch stand-up comedy, but when I do, I truly enjoy it, enough that I feel like a live audience member. Be it vulgar (i.e. Jeff Dunham) or wholesome (i.e. Bill Cosby), stand-up is a rare, sometimes unappreciated sort of comedy that draws laughs out of personal experiences that we can all relate to in some way.

Birbiglia seems to me like a comic that would not cease to entertain. His writing in Sleepwalk is absolutely brilliant. We don’t need him to do anything more than make us laugh to feel both amused and touched.

Unfortunately, Birbiglia seems to think otherwise. Whereas his narration of the entire film is something we’re all used to, it’s strange when he addresses the camera in an attempt to connect with the audience. (Again, he’s already succeeded, so he doesn’t need to.) Matthew Broderick took the technique to hilarious levels when he tackled it in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, but the difference is he’s always accompanied by others. The technique has always relied on our existential belief that no matter how many people are accompanying the protagonist, none of them will hear, because he or she is simply addressing the audience. Here, the hero is generally alone.

Sleepwalk with Me isn’t perfect, but it is an easy flick to recommend. At eighty minutes, it’s concise enough to tell a brief story and end with the gist integrated in the viewers’ minds.

Here, it’s get up and go. Do what you want to do, so you can be what you want to be. And at eighty minutes, it takes the cheese and cliché out of such a phrase, and makes it seem solemn.

With sleepwalking. And comedy. It’s a comedy about comedy and sleepwalking. No, wait a moment…it’s a comedic drama about a stand-up comic’s methods of coping with sleepwalking, while we feel as if it’s actually a stand-up performance, and we’re right there in the audience laughing ourselves to death. If that makes any sense.

Sleepwalk with Me is funny, unique, authentic, and meaningful. There we go.

B PLUS

Hitchcock

poster-source

Bottom Line: Hitchcock is a film you should see…from the beginning!

Directed by: Sacha Gervasi
Alfred Hitchcock: Anthony Hopkins
Alma Reville: Helen Mirren
Also Starring: James D’Arcy, Jessica Biel, Michael Stuhlbarg, Michael Wincott, Scarlett Johansson, Toni Collette

“When I saw it condensed and edited in a way that only Hitchcock could do it, it was so frightening to me that it made me realize that it’s an extremely vulnerable position we’re in, while in a shower. … I just couldn’t get back in a shower after that.” –Janet Leigh, recalling the “shower scene” from Psycho

Open the curtain. No, not too fast! Cut! Take two. Open the curtain. That’s better. Now pan right. No, not too far! Cut! Take three. Open the curtain. Good, now pan right…and…action!

Biographies are notorious for their titles. It’s difficult enough to shove an entire life into two hours. The only two options with shoving an entire life into one title are to a) title based on what’s appealing and easy to remember; or b) title based on full honesty, regardless of whether anyone will actually remember the title. Would The Aviator have been such an irresistible film if it were “The Aviator/Filmmaker/Billionaire/Narcissist/Perfectionist/Playboy”? Would anyone have watched The Iron Lady if it were, “Into the Mind of Margaret Thatcher during Her Years of Dementia”? Behold Hitchcock, a title that makes those misnomers seem tame. This isn’t a biography about Alfred Hitchcock. It spans over merely a few months, yet it covers several fascinating topics. The complete title that was not offered: “Alfred Hitchcock, Alma Reville, Ed Gein, the Blondes, the Production Code, and All of Their Monstrous Obsessions that Led to a Timeless Classic”. Try remembering that.

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The Pianist

pianist

Bottom Line: A beautiful/disturbing serenade well worth watching.

Directed by: Roman Polanski
Władysław Szpilman: Adrien Brody
Also Starring: Ed Stoppard, Emilia Fox, Frank Finlay, Jessica Kate Meyer, Julia Rayner, Maureen Lipman, Michal Zebrowski, Nomi Sharron, Richard Ridings, Wanja Mues

“An engine, an engine
Chuffing me off like a Jew.
A Jew to Dachau, Auschwitz, Belsen.
I began to talk like a Jew.
I think I may well be a Jew.”
–”Daddy” by Sylvia Plath

We’ve heard it all too many times. “Never mention politics or religion, in polite conversation.” The two alone are likely to toss around reckless, harsh debate, but when combined, there is a grave, rather factual matter at hand. Proof: the Holocaust. You can joke all you want about religion, you can break politics down to its most absurd trivialities, but you can’t joke about something so horrifying. This has been set on film several times, namely by Louis Malle in Au revoir les enfants and by Steven Spielberg in Schindler’s List. You kind of have to expect Roman Polanski’s The Pianist to be just as gut-wrenching as his other pieces. Just like Chinatown and Rosemary’s Baby, it often comes as a surprise attack, particularly when using the onscreen genocide as a test of the audience’s inner strength. There’s something here that Polanski’s other films are lacking, however, and that is the story’s depth. We see the shoah through a singular man’s eyes, yet it’s sometimes more intricate than omniscient dramas.

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Malcolm X

Bottom Line: A powerful, full-fledged look at racism.

Directed by: Spike Lee
Malcolm X: Denzel Washington
Also Starring: Albert Hall, Al Freeman Jr., Angela Bassett, Shirley Stoler, Spike Lee

“We didn’t land on Plymouth Rock. The rock was landed on us.” –Malcolm X

Spike Lee has controversy written all over his career. Do the Right Thing. Mo’ Better Blues. Jungle Fever. Get on the Bus. Bamboozled. Such films have been frequently noted for their respective political commentaries, which range from questionable to outwardly offensive. Without a doubt, it was appalling when Lee issued a call to action less than two months before the release of his 1992 film Malcolm X. Lee encouraged all African-American students to skip school and see the film the day of its release, a Wednesday. On one hand, there’s great educational value here. Without a man as historically prosperous as Malcolm X, African-Americans would not be looked at nearly the same today. At three hours and twenty-two minutes, the document goes into far more depth than any history teacher could imagine. To connect to authentically and at such a young age with one’s racial heritage would be no less than mesmerizing. On the other hand, the film edges up half as disturbing as the true events, where perhaps the ancestral connection is no longer healthy for, say, elementary and junior high schoolers.

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