Irreviews

Eleven Academy Award nominations? Best Picture? Best Director? David Demby’s best film from 2011? Are you kidding me?! This is the film that all our friends said was so great? All I can say is my wife and I had a very different reaction to this film. We talked for days about how truly awful it was in every way, and marveled, frankly, that anyone could feel differently.

I blame Jude Law for my even having watched this wretched film. After the most unpromising opening 15 minutes of any film I can remember (When in Rome was more promising,) my wife and I were both ready to turn it off and go to Plan B: re-watch The Trip.  Then presto: Jude Law suddenly appears, and he is such a fabulous and compelling actor, so warm and charismatic and engaging, that we suddenly got interested merely by the force of his screen presence. Hell, he even made that terrible, charmless actor playing Hugo almost likable: such is the awesome power of Jude Law. But his moment only lasts a few minutes before he is struck dead by what used to be derisively called a dues ex machina. We subsequently stuck with the film in part figuring that Jude Law might return in flashbacks, but alas, so such luck. His fleeting role in the movie is to trick you into thinking the rest of the film might be as good as he is! It’s so cruel.

It takes Hugo 30 minutes to engage any kind of even semi-coherent plot (I timed it, in agony.) That’s a full quarter of the movie, in case you’re wondering. This time is supposed to be devoted to painting a picture of Hugo’s life in the walls of the station, but they somehow manage to make this a colossal bore. Partly this derives from how irritatingly fake it all looks, but the sequences are also badly conceived and written. Consider how poorly Hugo compares to The Secret World of Arrietty, to give one recent example, as a portrait of life in a strange, disorientating world. Not only is Arrietty visually superior, but its narrative is richer – they take the time and make the effort to show life in this world in an interesting and memorable way. In Hugo, all we see is Hugo walking around, winding clocks in a sort-of half-assed way, and occasionally stealing a croissant – that’s not good enough!

As for the overall story, it did nothing for me. I found the children’s friendship to be lifeless and completely unmoving. The child actors themselves are flat-out BAD. Their performances are almost uniformly uncompelling, they have no screen presence, and they have zero chemistry together, so how can they possibly command emotional involvement from the audience? Compare these kids to the incredible child actors and performances in The Secret Garden, for example, and you will begin to see how poorly the leads of Hugo actually discharged their duty. This is a little unfair, of course, because unlike Hugo, The Secret Garden is based on a marvelous story, had a first-rate script, and was directed with tremendous skill and sensitivity, but nevertheless I think the comparison is instructive.

I appreciate the homage this film pays to the quirky but highly primitive films of Georges Méliès, but these films are just not my cup of tea; to me they are like comparing pre-historic cave paintings to Michelangelo, and if this reveals me to be an uncultivated clod, so be it. And as for Méliès himself, Ben Kingsly’s performance is so stale, lifeless and painful to watch, almost like someone blackmailed him into participating, that I found it impossible to develop any kind of emotional bond with him. Even at the end, I could care less about him, indeed, I sort of disliked him.

There there are the characters in the station. That police officer almost drove me into a homicidal rage! There are very few things I despise more in movies than the sub-hackneyed comic device where some clownish boob is always chasing around the hero or heroine. Come to think of it, there is nothing I despise more, even if the device is carried out tolerably well – in Hugo, its execution is the height of incompetence, with a performance from Sacha Baron Cohen that is so embarrassingly unappealing and unfunny that your stomach turns over every time he comes on screen.

Poor Emily Mortimer has the unfortunate honor of playing the woman that is in love with the absurd boob that does nothing but ineptly chase little kids around the station. She deserves better than this, let me leave it at that.

All this begs the question: why is Hugo so critically acclaimed? Put simply: for the same reason all these other horrible movies are critically acclaimed – War Horse, The Artist, The Social Network, The Reader, and on and on and on. Critics want to look smart, and are so influenced by this desire that they can’t see the most obvious things. Fact is, even a humble little film such as Ratatouille positively destroys Hugo as a modern fairy tale set in Paris in which a youth struggles to find his true place in the world. Once you factor out the snob appeal of Hugo’s historical inspiration, there really is nothing there.

Sometimes you just want to watch something idiotic, get a few laughs, and have the experience not be deeply offensive or insulting. Such is the mood my wife and I were in yesterday, leading to our attendance at 21 Jump Street in the Union Square 14 theater. The audience was PACKED – obviously we are not the only people feeling trampled by our lives.

21 Jump Street is exactly what you expect it to be, maybe a tiny bit better. It’s dumb, but a touch original in its dumbness. It’s not hilarious but it makes you laugh a bit. The two leads suit the material well. And the movie hangs together pretty well from start to finish (usually these thing come unraveled about half-way through.) And I’ll say this for it: there was no potty humor and only one instance of “dick humor,” so in my book 21 Jump Street is already coming out ahead of the Apatow/Smith/Rogen crowd. My wife and I enjoyed it, and did not regret seeing it – it delivered on expectations very well.

See it if you desperately want to shut your brain off for two hours without causing permanent damage.

Tiny Furniture really surprised my wife and me. We never went to see it when it was at IFC last year, because we were listening to the New York critics, who panned it. As usual, paying them any heed was a serious mistake. Tiny Furniture is a very enjoyable film.

I think Lena Dunham has the making of a very fine filmmaker. Her work in this film reminds me of the charming comedies of the 1990’s Indie Renessance, films like Walking and Talking, The Day Trippers, Party Girl, and others of that ilk. Tiny Furniture is not as artistically realized as those films – there is an element of post-millennial nonchalance and existential vacuousness here that puts a subtle drag on the whole enterprise. But what is immediately evident is how fresh all the comedy and characters seem when compared to similar indie comedies of the last 10 years. The pacing of the film is a touch slow, but it is amazingly and admirably even – the film never drags – and it is consistently funny and charming.

Dunham draws her characters really well, including the one she plays herself. They are all disoriented young people just out of school, and she resists making them too sophisticated. They all seem a touch small and dull – in other words, they seem pleasantly real. The two jerky men are just fabulous, especially the drippy YouTube “philosopher,” who is maybe the most beautiful portrait of a self-obsessed, judgmental, rude, opinionated A-hole that I have ever seen (very few films manage to keep this type of character “human-sized”.) Also fabulous is her best friend, a character so instantly and irrepressibly engaging that your attention jumps a level each time she comes into a scene.

The ending of the film is a bit disappointing – Dunham definitely misses one aspect of the light comedies of the 90’s Indie Renaissance: their brilliant and decidedly non-ambiguous endings. But despite this quibble, Tiny Furniture is one of very few genuinely good films I saw from 2011. I highly recommend it!

Mainstream movie artistry is really in the toilet right now, and I think that for the most part the Euro and Indie scenes are wildly overrated. But one of the few positive things that is happening is the small but impressive new genera of low-tech science-fiction. Films like Monsters, District 9, Sunshine, and now Another Earth are to a certain extent reviving the traditions of profound thematic conception and dialogic and atmospheric suspense, in contrast to the special effects mayhem and “cowboys and indians” plots that have been nearly synonymous with science fiction films since Star Wars. To find something comparable to this new, low-tech sci-fi movement you have to go all the way back to stuff like Omega Man, Soylent Green, Logan’s Run, Blade Runner – not that those were great films necessarily, but they were (it can’t be denied) each a very different kind of artistic take on the future then, say, Transformers: Dark of the Moon.

The critics absolutely panned Another Earth, but they are idiots. This is a lovely, interesting film that reminds me a little of the classic works of Victor Nunez during the Indie Renaissance of the 1990’s. It has smooth, elegant pacing, good (if sparse) dialog and narration, a good score, excellent casting (especially voice casting) and solid performances. But mostly it is just a marvelous idea: It’s about how we struggle to deal with our own mortality, explored through the prism of the very finite number of choices we get to make in life. The parallel Earth is an allegory of what we can never know about our own existence, an allegory that here comes to life.

There is a quiet, low-key sensibility to the storytelling. The accident is handled much more tastefully then I had any right to expect (now that all movie car wrecks are shot like the climax of a Jason Bourne film.) The way our planet’s contact with Earth 2 is handled is a beautiful example of artistic restraint and efficiency. The relationship between the girl and the fellow who’s family she killed is gentle and mesmerizing. There are moments of haunting beauty throughout the film: the scene with the janitor springs to mind. And finally, I found the ending of the film to be absolutely bone-chilling. It’s damn-near perfectly executed, and quite overwhelming.

People bitch about the “science” of the story – forget it, it’s irrelevant! In science fiction, “science” only matters when you’re saddled with a bad story (e.g. Inception.) The point of this film is to reflect on the human condition. It does so beautifully. Just enjoy it!

Another Earth is one of the best films of 2011. It’s way better than anything nominated for an Academy Award. Take a chance! Netflix it, and let it gently wash over you with its understated depth and beauty.

The Woman in Black can be described (charitably) as The Changeling meets The Shining meets Ringu, but it somehow manages to avoid every single last attribute that made each of those films great. All the disaggregated components of those films are here jumbled together in rank confusion: you’ve got creepy little girls, a highly isolated old house, a catatonic widower with nerves impervious to any form of shock, an unfulfilled ghost with an agenda, a weirdo scratching messages, a house with locked doors that open, a possessed rocking chair, creepy pictures being super-normally altered, a dead child being dug up. Basically the filmmakers just ripped off every cool idea from these three classic films, and then bungled them all disastrously.

I’ve never seen a horror film rely so heavily on startling the living crap out of the audience with cheap, shocking “surprises.” All bad horror films do it to a certain extent, to fill time, but The Woman in Black takes it to a new level. You have to hand it to them in a way: these filmmakers squeezed every last drop of startle-potential out of that house. Endless sequences where the lead character turns around blind to the camera, endless sequences where he is staring off to the side and something moves in the background, endless sequences where he is staring right at the camera and something moves behind him, endless sequences where some (really loud) bird flies out of nowhere, endless sequences where he’s looking through something and someone passes in front of his field of vision, endless sequences where he opens a door and someone is standing there, endless sequences where he looks up, his eyes get big, and then they cut to something horrifying (or not so horrifying.) It’s an exhausting film in this way, it gets old really, really fast, and it goes on way too long.

And what is with that house?! Why does every room have a super-creepy monkey statue with eyes that seem to be alive? Why does the child’s room have all those freaky, terrifying wind-up toys: all manner of animals, seemingly infected by St. Anthony’s Fire. Why is the place so fucking dusty, like it hasn’t been lived in for centuries?! And while we’re chronicling absurdities, what papers was he supposed to be reviewing for his law firm? The crumpled, lunatic scribblings of an insane woman, crammed in shoe boxes under beds? This is what his firm sent him out there to “review?”

Then we come to Daniel Radcliffe, a.k.a. Harry Potter. I wonder if he is trying to distance himself from Harry Potter with this movie. After all, he’s playing a father, conferring on him “instant adulthood,” and he’s clearly reaching for a James McAvoy kind of air. But this film seemed very Harry Potter-like to me: same grey cinematography, same endless dreary landscapes and buildings, same British character actors slumming for cash, and since Radcliffe has no lines in this movie, he spends a lot of time looking like … an upset Harry Potter! I think he should have done a romantic comedy!

My advice is go watch an old horror film, from back in the day when they knew how to make them! Skip this ridiculous and tiresome piece of trash!

Wanderlust was much better than I thought it would be – the preview definitely does not do it justice. I found the film consistently funny from start to finish, something pretty unusual in modern comedies. It does feature some fairly raunchy humor, which I’m not the biggest fan of. But in contrast, for example, to the comedies of Rogan/Smith/Apatow, Wanderlust doesn’t push the raunchy stuff beyond the threshold of adult dignity (and into the realm of perverted, retarded fourth graders with rectomania.) The filmmakers keep it short and sweet, and there is a lot of non-raunchy humor to balance the experience.

I should add that the humor in the film serves very well the larger goal of skewering western neo-spiritualism and the whole idea of a commune of spiritualist freaks living in isolation. I found the satire to be pretty accurate, including the couple’s seduction by the place, and I say this as someone who has (to my eternal ignominy) actually mixed with this crowd on their turf quite a bit. I once ran into a guy who was a hell of a lot like the “Seth” character in the film – he’s not as far fetched as you might think. My wife and I found the whole satiric theme of the film very funny and kind of cathartic!

But the real star attraction here is Paul Rudd. He makes the entire film, as he usually does with films he appears in. He glues the whole thing together as few actors can, and he injects a certain good-natured and classy presence that effortlessly smooths over any rough spots where the humor crosses a line. This film would not have been even half as good without him. There is no actor I can think of that could pull off the reaction he displays when Malin Ackerman out of the blue proposes (since the community embraces free love) that she could lick his balls while she gives him a blowjob. And there is no other actor who could make the whole “disgusting sex talk in the mirror” scene actually sort of sweet and endearing, in addition to being gross and really funny. Maybe Steve Carrell comes the closest, but even he tends to hold himself a bit apart from the humor he is playing; Rudd does not. I am starting to think that Rudd is a comic genius, and I’m not sure why he’s not winning awards.

Jennifer Aniston is fine in her role, but she is very much just along for the ride here. She’s a neutral and does not pull the movie down, but she also doesn’t add much. Kathryn Hahn, who appears to be following Paul Rudd around from movie to movie (smart move!) is again superb in an outrageous supporting role. All the other supporting actors are quite strong, and they blend well together.

If you like raunchy, semi-outrageous humor, done with class and dignity, give Wanderlust a try. For any Paul Rudd fans, or people with issues about western, new-age spirituality, it’s a must-see.

Animation nearly always leaves me cold, because it is so damn predictable: the same raucous cacophony of cheesy crap over and over and over. Arrietty is different. It is slow, quiet, detailed, almost meditative. It drags a bit here and there, but you don’t really mind because it takes the time and effort to paint in pleasing detail the intriguing world of the little people (what they have to go through just to get a sugar cube is really something!) There isn’t a ton of dialog, but the dialog is earnest and well-written. It is very unmanipulative for an animated film, which is refreshing, and my wife and I found it quite enjoyable. I should also add that it has a lovely score.

When we saw this film at Union Square, the theater was packed to the gills with A.D.D. children frothing at the mouth, each with their own iphone. I must say, this film is so subtle and quiet that the theater of children was like a frenetically unstable mob constantly threatening to cross a tipping point into a full-on melee. But thankfully, just enough distracting action happens in the film to pull your typical modern child back into it before they go off the deep end.

I recommend this film if you are in the mood for a light, low-key and interesting animated feature that lulls you and relaxes you.

So far my three year record is 13 out of 15. Let’s see how I do this year!

Best Supporting Actress: Octavia Spencer – Rule #1 of Best Supporting Actress is that if there is a “hot young thing” nominated, it goes to them, regardless. I don’t think Jessica Chastain quite qualifies (even though she basically made that film.) Thus we go to rule #2: a flashy novelty performance by an old person or a minority. Done.

Best Supporting Actor: Christopher Plummer – Old guy, up for an Oscar two years ago and snubbed, Academy has recently decided they like him, and he’s playing a gay man. Case closed.

Best Actress: Viola Davis –  They’re not going to give Meryl three for a film nobody saw (or liked,) are they? Rooney and Glen are out, so it’s between Viola and Michele Williams. My gut tells me to take Michelle Williams: Octavia is a lock for Supporting Actress, and the Academy has been following a one-per rule lately when it comes to the acting awards. They also like giving it to young bombshells, and Michelle Williams is as close as we’ve got this year. Plus her role was flashy – Viola’s was not. However, Williams’ nomination feels just like her nomination for Blue Valentine – she has no buzz, and it was a film that no one saw. My wife and I were going to go see it today, but it is suddenly out of theaters in NYC (except for the “rat theater” in Chelsea) right before Oscar weekend – not a good sign at all. I might get burned here, but Viola Davis will get the Oscar, by process of elimination, literally.

Best Actor: Jean Dujardin – Does the Academy ever give big Oscars to foreign dudes who don’t speak? No, but who else is there??? Here’s the case for George – he gave a good speech (the most important predictor of future Oscars) when he won for Syriana, and they love him to distraction, just like everybody else. But George didn’t do anything in this film! It was totally blah performance, aside from his good looks and great voice, and the role was completely lame. The other three are all non-starters. No one saw A Better Life (my wife turned it off after 10 minutes.) Gary Oldman in a remake of a thirty year old miniseries? I don’t think so. The Brad Pitt nomination is just a complete joke.

Best Picture: The Artist –  Everyone is into the Artist because they all want to “look smart,” and the Academy is probably no different. I can’t see The Descendants pulling this off – it’s too blah.

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This year’s nominated films were downright embarrassing, in my book, almost as if the Academy could barely get interested in nominating anything at all. All the hubub about nominating 10 and then the third year into it they can’t even find 10 to nominate!!! I know this was a really weak year for films in general, but there were a bunch of solidly good movies that were completely ignored – in particular: Win Win, The Whistleblower, and We Bought a Zoo, all three of which are better than anything in the list below (that I saw, anyway.) Let’s review the nominees, with links to my reviews, and the film’s Irreviews rank score (10=best, 1=worst) in parentheses:

The Artist (2) – There’s a reason silent films went the way of the Dodo. No one we know who saw this actually liked it.

The Descendants (2) – A boring, completely inconsequential film with a bad script.

Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close – Did not see (I experienced 9/11 at close range, I don’t need to live it again in any form.)

The Help (4) – A solid but unremarkable mainstream social issues film.

Hugo – Did not see.

Midnight in Paris (5) – Woody Allen doing his usual Woody Allen thing – nothing more.

Moneyball (5) – A middling sports movie … up for best Oscar?

The Tree of Life – Did not see (the preview left me very cold.)

War Horse (1) – The worst in tacky schmaltz.

Would it have killed them to throw in Win Win to make an even 10, and honor at least one really good film?

It occurs to me that nobody wants to make the effort to tell a good story in this genera of film anymore. This film is just like Salt (except not as fun as Salt was,) in that they start with a pretty decent story idea – young, inexperienced safe house manager is thrown into turmoil when a rogue master agent turns himself in trying to escape from armies of people trying to kill him – and then instead of actually creating a compelling story and telling it, they cue 2 hours of senseless, fake looking chase scenes, gun violence, and people getting maimed and killed in every way imaginable. Couldn’t they have had Ryan Reynolds and Denzel talk to each other, just a little bit?!

Note to Vera Farmiga: you are an absolutely amazing actress. Please do not get involved with shit like this anymore. That’s how bad this film is: it made Vera Farmiga look like a bad actress, a REALLY bad actress. That takes some doing.

I took away nothing from this movie except a fucking headache. Oh, and the depressing realization that Ryan Reynolds’ career is in a doom spiral.