13 Assassins (2010)

Overall Score: 6.00/10

There is a new rule in Hollywood - "If you blow it up, they will come." No need to build anything really, that just takes time and effort. No, just find it, blow it up, and people will champion you to the bitter end. Which of course only embattle your opposition, and leaves those lovable folks (like myself) hanging in the realm of in-between.

The best way I can think of to describe the impact left upon me by 13 Assassins is this: I love it far more for what it came close to achieving than what it actually achieved. Sure, everyone by now knows how amazing of a visual spectacle the grand 45minute final action sequence is. And oh boy is it ever a spectacle. Full of just about every samurai fighting style, every sword decapitation, and way of dying one would dare think of (hell you even how kamikaze fire cows), few deny the sheer awesomeness of that sequence. But in the end, that's it really. That's the sell. A movie which clocks in at just over two hours, hinges everything on the effectiveness of that battle.

But does it really work? How much of the intensity one leaves the theater with relates to the film's overall quality? Unfortunately for me, that answer is 'only a little.'

13 Assassins opens with a 'hard sell.' No sugar coating, no fluffing, no tip toeing around - right away "that guy there is the bad guy, he's the worst guy, he's everything that is evil." Now let's move on - after all we have 13 Assassins to recruit. And so our main character, Shinzaemon (Koji Yakusho), does just that. Using contacts, pupils, and a few stowaways who happen upon them, we gain our 13 assassins. So... now what? Well, we plan, right? Sort of. The plan is quite brief, "you half nobody remembers because you've only been in this two minutes will now leave to do something important, while the rest of us will stay here and gain more screen time."

Sure, there's a couple minor action scenes along the way just to give a quick fix to the adrenaline junkies of the audience, but they're rather tame and without need. Nobody of any great importance suffers, nor does anything of great interest happen. If anything, they just serve to add plot points that will never be dealt with later on and can be quickly left by the wayside.

The rest of the film is all about the action. A scene I'll be kind and leave blank for those who want to see it and enjoy without expecting too many things. Suffice to say, it saves the film.

13 Assassins' opening hour is a drag. It's a drag on the plot, a drag on the pacing, and a drag on the viewer. Not much of any great importance occurs, while we go through the motions of a select few characters being given a base trait for us to recognize them by. The one soldier trapped by his dream of power and dedication to his master. The quiet samurai seeking one great conquest before his end. The drunken womanizer seeking redemption. Of course we have our silent super soldier who wields dual swords and just walks around looking cool. All capped off with the lovable loser, Kiga (Yusuke Iseya) who is revealed in the final moment of the film to be the most interesting character of the lot, but in order for you to know that you'd have to watch the film in reverse...

All of whom do a fine job of bringing up the inevitable comparisons to Seven Samurai. Which I think is a bit unfair. Seven Samurai built the foundation for the men on a mission genre. Movies like 13 Assassins have 60 years worth of building upon it to fall back on. Which begs the question - why didn't it? Sure 13 Assassins carries the markers of Seven Samurai, but it fails to capture the quintessential essence of the original tale - the characters. Overtly cheerful, with dark pasts to fall back upon, and a solid amount of screen time each, we are given a cause to care for them. A cause to wish them well, to want for them to succeed in their mission. 13 Assassins on the other hand calls for us to want the villain to die. A fine line I grant you, but in the over the top final battle sequence, with dramatic deaths a plenty, it takes all the emotional investment out of it. The viewer is left at arms length from the people he's supposed to be championing; their deaths are merely a countdown of numbers no longer available to defeat the evil Lord Naritsugu (Goro Inagaki).

So with that element left, the viewer is stuck. They can admire the choreography, engulf themselves in the action, but anything they feel beyond that is applied more so than delivered - in my humble opinion.

Of course, with Miike at the helm you will always have an eccentric style, dark comedic feel, and plenty of violence to fall back on. Which is why the film gets a 6 instead of a 5 of lower. I know I've spent a lot of time expressing my frustration with the film, but a good deal of that is disappointment. The farther I get from the end credits, the more I feel that a truly great film was within the reach of Miike and he missed it. Not by a mile or by an inch, but just enough to leave you wondering - what if?

Film Credits: 
Directed By: Takashi Miike
Screenplay By: Daisuke Tengan
Based on a Screenplay By: Kaneo Ikegami

Money Never Sleeps But Audiences Do

When the credits finally began to roll on Stone's latest cinematic endeavor, my dad summarized the entire feeling of those of us in the room with a quiet groan and stretch combo, capped off by "well, there's two hours I'll never get back." I decided it would be nice tongue and cheek to point out that 'you never get your two hours back' but I couldn't help agreeing with his summary of the film. Despite a promising beginning, with the death of one of the film's main characters, the Money Never Sleeps dies as well.

And the more I've thought about it, the more I believe Wall Street: Money Never Sleeps is indicative of all the flaws Oliver Stone has gained over the years. The most predominant: No Direction. I don't mean direction in the sense of what he does behind the camera, I mean in his handling on the stories. Alexander, W., and Wall Street 2 all suffer from simply having nowhere to go. They don't build up to anything. They don't examine anything. They simply meander through a series of passably interesting events, and then stumble onto some sort of conclusion before sprinting towards the credits.

It seems to me that Stone has lost his edge. That sharp point which echoed throughout much of his late '80s and early '90s works which brought him to fruition. Even with all that is going on in the world of banking, Money Never Sleeps finds nothing to really attack. Stone settles for tip-toeing around issues, and only dealing with them in minute contexts that have nothing to do with the greater picture.

This is a massive shame considering the wide spread talent involved. Douglas feels like a watered down version of his former Gecko self. Shia Lebouf is there to pad out a lacking younger demographic, but offers very little. Susan Surandon's character could have been written out without the film batting an eye. Hell, by the time the credits roll Eli Wallach has been reduced to a whistling, 'why the hell is he talking about birds?' buffoon. The rest are just there, going through the numbers in a film that should be creating entirely new calculations to make those numbers illuminate!

Ah well, all is not lost. At least Stone will always have his heyday. I just hope he doesn't delude himself into thinking that this is it.

Get Low (2010)

Overall Score: 7.75/10

Remorse can be a debilitating thing. An overwhelming feeling that no matter how the events unfolded, you could have done better, you can have changed things. The never ending spiral into the 'if only I had done this' mentality from which there is no escape. You spend enough time there and soon enough your mind may melt away in a manner that would make Nolan's limbo seem like a weekend resort.

Felix Bush (Robert Duvall) knows more about remorse than most of us can imagine, but damned if he's going to tell you about it. Hiding away for over forty years in a small forrest cottage well off the traveled path, he's become something of a local legend. From the violent to the mysterious, and even downright mythical, Felix has become a focal point for gossip and rumors in the region. And now, nearing the end of his life, that's something he wishes to stop.

Felix knows all too well the personal and lonely nature that comes with a life spent in isolation. And he's tired of all the stories that come along with such an existence. In his eyes it is time to come out with his story. To admit why he chose life the way he did, and accept the reprocussions that come with them. First breaking onto our screens as 'Boo' Radley in the timeless classic To Kill a Mockingbird, few actors have proven their worth over and over again as much as Robert Duvall. Borrowing a page from the Gregory Peck school of acting, Duvall has found a way to display range, maturity, and strength without forfeiting that sense of frailty that makes his characters vulnerable.

Now, with a supporting cast that spans Oscar nominations and experience, Duvall is geared up to shine. Murray is charming in the stereotypical 'sales-man' whose experience adds a bit of comic relief to the idea of a living-funeral. Sissy Spacek is as delightful as one would expect from so seasoned an actress. Then you have Lucas Black, whom I've long since held a fondness for ever since Sling Blade (yes, I'm even letting Tokyo Drift slide). Not to mention Bill Cobbs who ought to win an Oscar on persona power alone (not to mention Nino Brown slaying).

Add it all together, and the stage was set beyond compare for the coming out party of first time director Aaron Shcneider. And, simply put, he does a good enough job. That's really all you can say. Get Low is a film that changes gear more times than you can shake a stick at. Often interspursing moments of mystery and tension in an effort of keeping the plot interesting, but having no real intention of paying off the investment.

The more we learn about Felix, the more mysteries writing team Chris Provenzano and C. Gaby Mitchell add on just to keep us guessing. All the while, never really bothering to stick to one plot point for any extended period of time. The characters are fun, fresh, and exciting, but there's always a feeling of "why did they include that?" going on.

Leaving much at the feet of Schneider to hold it all together. For a first time feature length director, Schneider shows a great deal of promise. A long time cinematographer, Schneider handles shot composition and structure beautifully. In places where the story struggles, Schneider compensates appropriately. In places where the writing is on the mark, he steps back and lets the actors do their thing. The result is an enjoyable 2 hours of drama with moments of solid comedy, but always the best of intentions.

Film Credits
Directed By: Aaron Schneider
Written By: Chris Provenzano & C. Gaby Mitchell

Inside Job (2010)

Overall Score: 8.75/10

Just over two years ago, the world's economy took a hit unlike anything it was prepared for. Since that time we have searched high and low for an excuse as to why we were so unprepared. Excuses, mind you. Not answers. Was it possible that we could have been prepared for what was to come? Better yet, could we have prevented it?

Traveling decades, continents, and industry insiders, Inside Job takes an uncompromising look at the near thirty year build up that lead to economic explosion. Despite the simplicity that could be had, Inside Job avoids walking party lines, and concentrates solely on the people whose decisions directly, or indirectly, impacted the 'modern economy.' At the same time, Inside Job is not afraid to call out those, some directly to their face, that have avoided any measure of responsibility for how the events unfolded. It is with that in mind, that Inside Job takes on the arduous task of explaining just what in the world these major corporations were doing with everyone's money.

The results: mind-boggling and logic defying. There's no simple way to explain what these company's were doing, but Inside Job does its best, using graphics and narration (Matt Damon!) to explain in the most abstract concepts. This works for the most part, but understanding it requires full concentration. Even then, Inside Job is packed with a variety of facts, dates, names, faces, deals, and just about anything else you can think of. It keeps the ball rolling, and minds engaged, but I worry that the frenetic "he did this, and then she did that, and then another guy did this" pacing will borrow a hollow passage in the viewer's ears for easy traveling into one and out the other.

If the viewer survives the onslaught of information, what remains is a melancholic sense of political resentment. Any, and all information left resonating in the mind of the viewer are not a collection of cheerful moments, or comical characters. Inside Job is void of comic relief. Instead, all that remains are the headaches, frustration, and downright shock at just how ignorant, disilusioned, self-obsessed so many of these people are. The efforts at those who tried to warn us feel frail by comparison to the incalcuable stupidity of those who ignored them.

Like most documentaries, Inside Job ends on a call to arms and it is unfortunate that it has to. There is no heroic knight charging on a gallant steed to rescue us from the day. As Inside Job points out, it is up to us take action, because those whose job it is have chosen not to.

Film Credits
Directed By: Charles Ferguson
Written By: Chad Beck and Adam Bolt

 

White Material (2010)

OVERALL SCORE: 3.00/10

There have been few moments in my life where I have felt indescribably frustrated while watching a movie. More often than not a bad movie can be easily forgotten, or turned off when they have overstayed their welcome. It is the movies that show such great promise and still fail continuously that create this most maniacal feeling. It is with a mixture of sadness, and resentment, that I now bring the discussion onto White Material.

For going on a month now, I have been sitting on this review. Waiting for something to spark, some sentiment of intellectual reasoning to present itself in a manner of describing my feelings towards this film, but I really have nothing. It is simply a testament to things I dislike about films. Indistinguishable, jumpy, full of self-apprehension washed out by even more self-indulgence, White Material is a movie that has all the frontal appearance of an art-house piece wrapped in subtext. However the more I step back, the more it seems to me that this is a firm case of many parts which seem captivating in their own right, but when combined they add up to a whole lot of bupkis.

The reason: no direction. I'm not saying Claire Denis did not Direct the movie, rather that it always feels as if the scenes are being forced, and not flowing. How does this feeling come about? Intentional narrative editing. White Material is told a-linear, overlapping past and present with no real distinguishable transitions to label where we are at any particular time. To make this even more difficult, Denis has opted to skip time in certain places, and in some cases for some crucial events, and only deal with the aftermath of what we don't know happened.

In terms of basic narrative structure, one could find analogies to be had with the 2004 film Hotel Rwanda. For much of the tale we follow Maria Vial (Isabelle Huppert), the estranged ex-wife of African farm owner Andrew Vial (Christopher Lambert), as she tries to barter and maintain the farm amidst political revolution. At the same time Maria must deal with her despondent son, Manuel (Nicolas Duvauchelle), husband's new fiancee and child, local rebel leader seeking refuge, and a group of workers on the verge of leaving.

All sounds well and good, until the events start playing out, time gets lost in the shuffle, and we end up dealing with a lot of over stylized sequences with no real emphasis on backdrop. Visually arresting, Denis creates a wonderfully shot and tense world, which helps draw in the viewer, but seems annoyed at the prospect of maintaining that connection. Something that serves as a detriment to the great central performances of Huppert, Lambert, and Duvauchelle.

In fact, the strong combination of visuals and acting are the only reasons I would recommend this film. By its own creation, it is not a film that can promise wide spread appeal, and will likely only be taken in and appreciated by those who find some associative quality in its structuring. While I would love to think there is some great benefit to the film's elusive organization, none of that benefit trickled its way onto me.

Film Credits:
Directed By: Claire Denis
Scenario By: Claire Denis and Marie N'Diaye
Collaborator: Lucie Borleteau

Gasland (2010)

OVERALL SCORE: 8.50/10

There are times when I watch a documentary that I find myself caught in an inner battle. There is no right or wrong in this battle, only manipulation and realization. Two often overlying attributes that many documentaries utilize as a means of imbuing their message onto the viewer. There are times when my natural skepticism casts aside the desired message in favor of a more objective viewpoint. Then, there are those other times. Times when the documentary can break down my defenses and craft the scene in a way that is illuminating, well thought out, and sincere. Gasland is one of those films.

Narrated in melancholic, cathartic tone with a love of nature that would make Werner Herzog weep, Gasland follows Josh Fox as he journeys across America in search of the truth about Natural Gas and the main mining function 'hydraulic fracturing.' Starting from humble beginnings, Josh Fox receives a letter from an unnamed oil company offering him cash in return for the right to lease his land and drill for oil. His efforts at reaching out to the company for more information are met with a plethora of answering machines and 'hold while I transfer you' phone calls. With his camera in hand, he decides to visit other nearby sites where this drilling takes place. What he quickly finds is that the deeper he goes, the worse it gets.

While I would be hard pressed to say that at no point does Gasland feel overtly aware of its agenda, that fact alone does not dilute the overall message. It has become a common place mentality these days that if one thing is wrong about something, all must be deemed wrong. However, Gasland proves that there is more to documenting than being 100% accurate. Josh Fox's journey is one of self-discovery and eye opening science. From the barren landscapes of half-dead towns where time and oil have taken their toll to the beautiful mountain ranges of long past, chopped apart in favor of new-age monoliths.

Perhaps the greatest eye opener that Gasland has to offer, doesn't come in its rather obvious attack on hydraulic fracturing, but in the surrounding components that allow it to be. Through Josh's meetings we discover just how difficult it is to learn anything about hydraulic fracturing other than its basic functionality. People in the industry don't want to talk about it, except to say it's safe. The rest is wrapped in politics, half talk, lobbyists, and more money than you or I dare dream of. But that's not the films only point. In a rather eye opening sequence, Fox examines the potential side effects of evaporation. With each of these sites there exists a lot of chemicals sitting in pools, on trucks, in pipelines, and no matter how you slice it, evaporation takes place. With no real definitive knowledge on the components, how can any of us properly judge the consequence of that chemical getting into the atmosphere?

Despite his tendency towards nature, Gasland is fully about the people these drilling practices impact. The consistency in symptoms, illness, defects, and problems spread across the states Fox visits are difficult to explain away. The inner contemplation each person Fox interviews adds a sense of real heart to the film. He makes you understand why they stay living where they do, even if we can't comprehend that mentality. Fox's eventual despondency towards the industry, and decision to not sell his land, is a feeling that can resonate with all audience members. Granted, it does help if you lean in his direction a bit to start with.

Film Credits:
Written and Directed By: Josh Fox 

The Illusionist (2010)

OVERALL SCORE: 7.50/10

While watching The Illusionist I found myself engrossed  in comparison to another film which I've often found myself reflecting upon. Much like this one, it is a tale of an elderly man caught in a world leaving him behind and a young woman unsure of what the future might entail. That film is Charlie Chaplin's oft overlooked Limelight. It can be an eye opening, world shattering, event to find yourself at the end of your road intersecting with someone just now beginning theirs. The cascade of defining events so contrasting now overlapping can bring out the best, or worst, in people. In the case of The Illusionist, there's a bit of both.

As a visual artist, Sylvain Chomet is one of a select few to have found the equilibrium between realism and inflation in animated cinema. Each new scene, shot, composition, drawing, whatever your preferred defining variable to the world Chomet creates is breathtaking. With every passing frame, I felt my eyes widen and my heart leap. An intense appreciate for the artistry in such films only one other filmmaker has managed to excite out of me in recent years, that of course being Hayao Miyazaki. In keeping with his Triplets of Belleville, The Illusionist is defined almost entirely by visual components presented to the viewer as opposed to the traditional use of dialogue as a means of explaining circumstances.

This is, as many have noted, to the advantage and disadvantage of the film. On the one hand, the beautiful images are so amazing you could easily love the film entirely on that aspect alone. Then again, to do so would be to ignore a few glaring befuddling plot points that weight the film down like an all night buffalo wing binge. First and foremost: motive. While the audience can apply onto the characters a motive of their choosing, the lack of dialogue between them leads to a lack of understanding about them. They act in a manner that is generally consistent, but void of context. Our Illusionist shows a deep care for the young country girl, Alice, he picks up as a loyal fan, but why is entirely left by the wayside. Is it some sentiment of love? Perhaps a parental instinct taken in due to a life on the road with no means to have, or support a family? Or one of any other number of reasons? Who knows.

Then you have Alice, who opens with brief escapades of sympathy and childlike innocence, but seems to lose track of them as the film progresses. Her relationship with the Illusionist appears to be one built entirely on self-gain. She gets to see his magic and in turn he pays for her to have a room to sleep, food to eat, and works nightly shifts to afford her the latest fashionable clothes she often begs for. For this reason alone I would argue that our Illusionist sees a father-daughter quality in his relationship with Alice. An odd mix-max combination of social requirement to look after her, and personal desire. Why he decides to apply a relationship so deep, so quickly is well beyond me.

Which leads to the ultimate struggle The Illustionist has as a film. It's slow, imagery based narrative relies on these characters to see us through the more personal action. What they do and why they do it is crucial to understanding the motives and flow of events. The solemn, melancholic vibe to the film struggles under the weight of underdevelopment. Our emotional investments in these characters are purely self applied with no middle ground with which we can find a resonating balance. In the end, I still couldn't help but reflect even more greatly on Limelight. On the vast, contrasting final shots that come to define both. And, unfortunately, how The Illusionist tales a long told, often repeated tale, and just doesn't quite have enough to elevate it above being merely another fine film amidst a sea of greatness.

Film Credits:
Written and Directed by: Sylvain Chomet
Original Screenplay by: Jacques Tati

Conviction (2010)

OVERALL SCORE: 7.00/10

There is perhaps no medium better suited for the dramatization of real life triumphs than cinema. The compacting of human events into a series of preplanned exposition moments, all carefully designed to pull the right strings, aids in the transition of reality to superfluous idealizing. Cinema molds emotion out of anything, and can derive heroes out of everything. Yet in doing so, it walks a thin line. The line between dramatization and manipulation. Both occur at the same time, but in seasoned hands the audience's awareness of their overlap is null. Tony Goldwyn may be a fine actor, solid television director, and a rising film maker, but he is not without flaws.

2010's Conviction is just that kind of flaw. A movie which would merely be another Lifetime Real Women network film if it were not for the strength of its cast. The writing of Pamela Gray, whose filmography includes a teleplay and a couple forgotten '99 films, does nothing to support that notion either. Conviction is a film all about drama, each scene you could argue was lifted right out of a 'how to write an emotional journey film.' The character's motivations are explored with the sort of depth that gives shallow ponds a bad name.

All we really know about Betty Anne Waters (Hilary Swank) is that she will do anything for her brother because they had a rough childhood. The rest is generally meaningless side drama that feels less like analysis on her character than narrative necessity. Things like the loss of a family, momentary depression afterward, and such felt more like vague rehashing of Flash of Genius (an equally forgettable, enjoyable, and Lifetime reject). I'm not bemoaning her accomplishment. It's that accomplishment that saves the movie. What I am bemoaning is the passive way in which this film handles it.

Conviction is less about the strength of character and will Waters must possess in order to do what she did, and more about a handful of witty and trying moments that popped up along the way. Waters suffers no discernible character flaw, minus trying to hard to do good for her brother and distancing herself from her children, but one quick line and a tear and the slate is clean.

The brother, Kenny (Sam Rockwell), is given a rather similar treatment. He's a misunderstood young man whose sad past more than makes up for anything he's done since then. Here he exists solely as the victim of society and police manipulation.

It is by that standard alone that I feel Juliette Lewis has managed to garner some award consideration. Her character, however brief, is one of the very few characters in the film portrayed as possessing more than a single note to beat away. Rockwell and Swank are great in their respective positions, but they lack the flash and raw emotion, flaws and strengths combined to make them engrossing. Their tale is appreciable and enjoyable for the reality and humanity of it, but not for what the film does with it. In the end Conviction is a fine tale of one person's exemplification of the titular trait, but lacks the desire to reach for more. It tries too hard to victimize, and in the process forgets to humanize those it endears so much.

Blue Valentine (2010)

OVERALL SCORE: 8.50/10

It seems that the basic criteria for writing a review of Blue Valentine is that you open up with a melancholic prose on the destructive power of a dying relationship. Some go the doom and gloom route on how all relationships are a facade and to love is to embrace its inevitable demise. As the child to parents who have been married for thirty years, and the grandson to grandparents who've been married for sixty, that's one ticket I'm not buying. Nor am I buying the alternative viewpoint that all is bubblegum that it's really sad that these two just couldn't work it out.

Blue Valentine is about forgetfulness, in a rather abstract sense. Somewhere along the line our romantic focal point, Dean and Cindy forgot what it meant to love. Perhaps they never really knew at all. Love is more than passion, prosperity, and prospects. Love is about communication, compassion, and understanding. Passion flies by like wind over a meadow. It's ripples are everlasting, but in the end it is just a passing thing. What is important is what you do once it has left you by the wayside onward towards another unsuspecting pair.

Once the wind has made its move, Dean and Cindy seem at a loss for what is to come next. Their whirlwind romance, catapulted into the next dimension by pregnancy and a plethora of personal issues, comes to a point where they forget one another. The romance is gone. They exist now as two inverse functions desperately seeking the points of overlap. Yet even when they do manage an honest connection, the time apart has made them judgmental and repressive. They can't be honest because of the collateral damage. Even when they try, they run away because it's too hard. In the end, it is their own destruction that they bring about.

Told simultaneously, we see the rise and fall of Dean and Cindy through the scope of the events that forever changed their relationship. When we first meet Dean he's a young, charismatic, hard worker just looking for a decent job to pay the bills, and maybe find a girl or two. Cindy is an aspiring doctor with her wrestling boyfriend, and passes her time by taking care of her sickly grandmother. The world is ahead of her, and she's ready to take it on and escape her current circumstances. But when things fall apart with her loving partner, she finds herself magnetically attracted to the young moving boy at her grandmother's rest home. Their whirlwind romance is intense, quirky, and full of spontaneity and desire.

Years later, Dean and Cindy take care of their young, elementary aged daughter. Dean is working as a painter and drinks constantly. Cindy is a nurse at a small clinic with a cute doctor hoping to whisk her away with him to a new job and 'brighter' future. The desire seems all but gone, and in its place we find a cold awareness. The sort of faulty relationship you find when only a child seems to really hold it together. Like planets, their lives revolve around the daughter, only lining up on certain events, and even then still a safe distance away. Dean desperately wants the romantic past, but seems perfectly content with the present. Cindy desperately wants her prospect filled past, and feels weighed down by Dean's contentment. An intended romantic getaway to a second-rate hotel becomes the launching pad through which the end finally comes.

Perhaps the most appreciable aspect of Blue Valentine is the beauty to which director Derek Cianfrance captures the film. With a stern sense of realism, Cianfrance presents the audience with a story that feels so real you could imagine a friend of yours telling you about the demise of their own relationship. This factor draws back any hindrances from potential fabricated emotional plot points, and gives Gosling and Williams a stage upon which to shine. And shine they do.

Through the beautiful imagery of Cianfrance, we see the tale unfold. If it weren't for the sheer frustration that can be derived from two broken souls, Blue Valentine would almost be a perfect film. Yet as far as breakthrough films go, Cianfrance has hit a home run worth of note, awards, and a great deal more attention than he's gotten. Then again, that's the power of media's obsession with 'ooooh' such a naughty film. Has the sad side effect of wearing down potential voters. Unfortunately Blue Valentine is resigned to the A Single Man fate. A passing award nomination for a beautiful film that deserved far more affection than it truly got.

Film Credits:
Directed by: Derek Cianfrance
Written by: Derek Cianfrance, Joey Curtis, and Cami Delavigne

Animal Kingdom (2010)

OVERALL SCORE: 8.50/10

Over the past few months I've felt a bit like a broken record, redundantly blathering on about how great all these cold, moody thrillers I've been watching are. How their elusiveness injects a frightful charm into the characters, that makes them simultaneously enticing and horrifying. Is it a testament towards an ever growing apathetic nature in myself that I find myself so drawn to them? Or could it be that simply put these characters feature predominately in some of the best works 2010 has to offer? Well, I'd like to say that it is the latter, but who really knows?

Animal Kingdom plays with fire. Many of the film's most colorful and amusing characters fail to make it past the thirty minute mark. The rest range of the dull to the manipulative and on to the downright maniacal. When these characters take to the screen you never know what you're going to get. Will they just there with no emotion, watching a sickly violent act take place? Or do they take matters into their own hand? As Animal Kingdom unfolds it becomes obvious that these actions are far less predictable than you might imagine.

Finding the right balance between gritty violence and bravura storytelling, Animal Kingdom is an audacious tale of gang violence in Australia. With crooked cops, and those just trying to make a living, going to head to head with a family of criminals, writer-director David Michod provides a fresh spin on an old tale.

With all the cunning of Vito Corleone, family matriarch Janine (Jacki Weaver) manipulates her perception of family into what she wants it to be. Her affection, well exceeding obsession, with her children lead her to make decisions that can make or break the world she has constructed for herself. Weaver handles the role like an uncut diamond, complete with unkempt beauty and jagged edges. The look she gives her characters that says 'oh, I don't mind' could easily be replaced with the thought 'I will cut you right here and now' depending on what's going on. She has a reassuringly mother vibe with the potential to be as venomous as a snake... if you get in her way.

Complete with a stare that would give children nightmare for years, eldest child Andrew (Ben Mendelsohn) is the only member of the main crime group not entirely reliant on their mother. His look is unassuming, but sadistic. And his actions speak to that very nature. "Pope" shows an utter lack of acknowledgment for the existence of others, beyond their immediate affect on him. If there was an award for unappreciated, you would be hard pressed to find a better candidate this year than Mendelsohn. From head to toe, he embodies the very sociopathic nature of his character to the point of being hard to define where the character ends and he begins.

However, all of Animal Kingdom is told through the lens of Josh (James Frencheville), nephew to the main family, and grandson to Janine. Josh is a rather unemotional character throughout much of the film. He's difficult to latch onto, and harder to understand given his penchants for silence and following. Yet, as the film progresses, he develops a more outwardly emotional attitude, and Frencheville nails every moment of it. By the time the ending comes, Josh has more than evolved into a fine character, he's become a recognizable force in the film.

At its core, Animal Kingdom is not about family. It's certainly not about how far we go for them. Animal Kingdom is simply about survival. The means to which one will go in an effort to adapt themselves to the world around them. Can you become evil to defeat evil? Will good present a path to your salvation? Why in the world is Guy Pearce playing such a bland character? Is that Luke Ford? Where's Brendan Fraser? Sorry, I regress.

What makes Animal Kingdom a movie I so greatly admire and enjoy, is that it blends so flawlessly two categories of film that often fail to co-exist. It's managed to combine the, drawling tended, moody genre with the tension of an old school slasher. Throw the two in the classic cops vs. gangs motif and you get a winner worthy of repeat viewings, and adoring praise.

Film Credits:
Written and Directed By: David Michod

Knight and Day (2010)

OVERALL SCORE: 5.00/10

Every neighborhood has that one kid. You know the one I'm talking about. He's not the brightest bulb in the bunch, is a bit sycophantic, but everyone puts up with it because he's rather amusing to be around. In the most abstract sense, that's what Knight and Day is.

Like most romantic-comedy action-adventures, Knight and Day relies heavily on the action to save it from the romance, and in turn build some comedy. The movie borrows none too shyly from the likes of True Lies and the action-comedies of the nineties. Unfortunately, it's no where near as good as many of them, and itself, aspired to be.

Director James Mangold orders up a Tom Cruise number 1 special with the infamous "happy mcSmiley face w/ sunglasses" staple performance. Cameron Diaz shows up in a hollow shell of her prior works - the ditsy, but cute business girl with no luck in love. Together they formulate the kind of chemistry that can only be rivaled by a turtle using pick-up lines on a green and brown checkered wall. There's not much there, and to be quite honestly there doesn't need to be.

Perhaps the most saddening aspect of Knight and Day is just how hard it tries to be something more than a shoot 'em up, on the run tale. It's quite apparent that writer Patrick O'Neill wanted to say more about the life of a spy and resigned himself to a cheap little side story with next to no direct impact. Much in the same way one could define the entire movie.

Peter Sarsgaard comes and goes as the 'too obvious for his own good' villain matching wits with Viola Davis (who seems more than happy to play the same character she did in Law Abiding Citizen). We even get a few brief Paul Dano sightings as an uber-cliche, absent minded genius.

In many reviews I've read, they've pointed out the movie should have stuck with the opening concept of Roy being an agent whose simply gone crazy/paranoid. To be honest, I have to agree. The film's efforts at a modern technology based plot come off hokey, even for a film lathered in cheese (a super battery? really?). There's simply not enough in the engine to go the distance. It can be oddly charming at times, even quite a bit humorous, but never to the level it needs to be for sustained interest.

In the end, Knight and Day is an amusing tale that won't bore you, though it may offend your sensibilities. The kind of film you start forgetting the second the credits begin to role. Then again, if that's all you're looking for - no harm done.

Rabbit Hole (2010)

OVERALL SCORE: 8.00/10

From Gone with the Wind to Children of Men, the strain placed on a relationship due to the loss of a child resonates deep within the emotional core of Hollywood. The conflicting desires to escape and engulf oneself in the past becomes an overwhelming experience. Yet, amidst it all we must find our own way of moving on. There's no guarantee that two people will find what they need in the same way, even if they are a loving, married couple.

Becca (Nicole Kidman) has found herself unsure of her place in life. A former executive turned stay at home mom, Becca feels disjoint from the world following the loss of her son. At group therapy she undermines the sentimentality of the rest of her group. She judges those who still have their children, and fail to lavish them with love. Lashing out in violent rages, she reprimands all those who she sees as belittling her. Then afterward she hates herself for it. Nothing seems to work for her. No consolation exists in those around her, despite their best efforts.

Her husband, Howie (Aaron Eckhart), has a much different approach to grief. Howie approaches the events of grief, such as group therapy, as things that just have to be done. Outwardly, and in his everyday life, he hides any emotion that would represent his inner turmoil. Yet in quiet moments while his wife is upstairs readying for bed, he pulls out his phone and watches a video recording he took of their son. This video is the one consolation he truly allows himself to indulge in. As far as he ever dares display, that video is his son.

Their relationship now is one of two wandering souls connected only by familiarity and what remains of their love for each other. Many moments of silence mixed in with violent arguments make up the majority of their life. They are desperate for some change to make things easier for them, but nothing seems to come along. Their friends and family all look upon them with sympathy, trying desperately to help while not bringing up old wounds. Too mixed degrees of success, the couple manage to move forward... but just how far they can go together is the question at hand.

A real wrench is thrown into the machine when Becca befriends Jason (Miles Teller), the teenage driver of the car who hit and killed their son, after following him to the library one afternoon. Through Jason, Becca must finally deal with the 'blame' card, and how it can make or destroy a life.

Perhaps the most redeeming aspect of Rabbit Hole is that while it teases with the idea of it, the movie steers clear of many modern relationship woe cliches. The film is about finding a way to get through a tragic event, and maintaining your relationship at the same time. It's about the many ways we try and find solace in life. Those that seek out god, family, friends, or just turn inside themselves. The ways each of them work, and how they can catapult you to success or failure. And through it all, director John Cameron Mitchell and writer David Lindsay-Abaire find the right balance between pain and dark humor.

Through their relationships with others, Becca and Howie find some sort of understanding as to what their life will now entail. Rabbit Hole is not a film about resolution, but it does a fine job of bringing an element of reality to the affair. Dianne West steps in with an especially memorable performance as Nat, Becca's mother who experienced a similar struggle when Becca's brother died some years back. Other cast members, notably Sandra Oh and Miles Teller, do fine jobs with their roles but aren't asked to do much.

No matter how you slice it, this is Becca and Howie's tale, and Kidman and Eckhart are up for the task. The two handle the flow from silent introspective to aggressive outbursts flawlessly. Their performances are the kind that in a weaker year would garner a lot more nomination talk than they have. Despite some lulling moments, it's that sentiment of honesty and reality that drives the Rabbit Hole message home. Appreciating it is as easy as understanding it.

Often times the difference between a good movie and a great movie is that a good movie requires you to be in the right mood to watch it, while a great movie puts you in the mood it needs you to be in. In that respect Rabbit Hole is a very good movie with moments of greatness.

LiE Awards 2010: Supporting Acting

In our obsession with celebrity and grand leading performances it is often easy to forget the great supporting stars which give them the opportunity to breath. Without the right supporting cast, any movie can crumble under the pressure of even the most dynamic leads. Supporting stars pave the way, supply the background, and insert life into the world the director is creating. As such, many of us in the critical, and blogging circle feel the need to honor those supporting actors for the greatness they bestow onto their respective films. Below are my picks of the ten best supporting actors and actresses, along with a couple superlatives just for fun.

Superlatives:

Worst Year: Emily Blunt. Between The Wolfman, Gulliver's Travels, and Wild Target, Blunt's stock fell faster than a Bank CEO at a humanity convention begging for donations to help maintain his second home. Hopefully The Adjustment Bureau will pave way towards greener pastors.

Most Profitable Year: Helena Bonham Carter. Alice made over a billion worldwide. Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows sits just short of that figure with 926million. At $32m, The King's Speech isn't doing too bad either. What do they all have in common? Well, besides a lot of British subtext and writers. Good ol' HBC. I may not have loved her in everything she did, but her movies raked in enough dough to feed Africa ten times over... of course, we know they don't really prefer their bread to be green.

TOP 5 SUPPORTING ACTORS:

Honorable Mention: Andrew Garfield, The Social Network

5. Jeremy Renner for "THE TOWN"

Jeremy Renner has finally found his niche after turning out fine roles in the 00's with films like 28 Weeks Later and SWAT. The brash, wild-child masculine man with questionable decision making skills bent on self-destruction seems to perfectly mold into what he's been building. With a role in The Avengers coming up, and a possible new platform vehicle with this year's Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol, I expect the goods to keep coming for his career. As The Town proves: he can make even the most repetitive characters seem refreshing on pure intensity alone.

4. Geoffrey Rush for "THE KING'S SPEECH"

There's something indisputably alluring about Geoffrey Rush. By most standards he falls well outside the reign of Hollywood ilk, yet he continuously finds ways of making it work for him. Often playing outlandish characters, Rush knows how to find the right balance between heart and zaniness to make a role work. In The King's Speech, he tackles the elusive Lionel Logue. Rush perfectly captures his wit, sarcasm, and total disinterest for tradition. It's a performance that many overlook because it's not filled with loud, emotional moments. Instead, Logue is goofy, yet subtle, and fun, without being demanding. The perfect role to highlight just one of the many things that Rush can offer.

3. Jeff Bridges for "TRUE GRIT"

Come Oscar time, I fully expect Bridges to earn a nomination in the category of Best Actor. I do not hold to that belief, however. It is my opinion that Bridges is a supporting star, and a damned fine one at that. From the mumbling to the double talk which I can only imagine spawned from too much Dr. Seuss ("I do not know this man" in a can of spam during a wintry scan?), Bridges inhabits every little tick and off-kilter mannerism the Coen Brothers necessitate with their version of Rooster Cogburn.

2. John Hawkes for "WINTER'S BONE"

How it has come to pass that John Hawkes' overlook factor has grown so greatly as of late is beyond my understanding. Sure, the movie was released earlier this year, but only a couple of the roles that have found their way past him are near as prominent. In many respects, that's why I feel the need to feature him so highly on my own list. Not only is he astounding in both subtly and essence capturing, but he provides the film with a much needed seasoned veteran to carry those moments Lawrence can't. Like Rush in The King's Speech, it's lack of flash and bang may turn off voters, but they should forever be shamed for not recognizing the talent involved in bringing such a role to life.

1. Christian Bale for "THE FIGHTER"

It's easy to praise an actor solely for making drastic weight changes. However, from The Pianist to
Philadelphia, it's a proven fact that there's more to gaining an Oscar than looking the part. At face value Bale's Dicky Eklund can come across more caricature than human being. That would be a gross misstatement. With wide, shifty eyes Bale sets Eklund's unbalanced state into motion. The twitches perfectly counter the over the top manner of speech. Hints of narcissism masquerading as laments of glory provide a cascade of emotions, and like a seasoned musician, Bale hits each note with precision.


TOP 5 SUPPORTING ACTRESSES

Honorable Mention:  Michelle Williams, Shutter Island

5. Julianne Moore for "THE KIDS ARE ALL RIGHT"

Julianne Moore bringing the waterworks is nothing new. Neither is her partaking in a film where she is asked to be a constant object of sexuality and engaging in sexual intercourse. Why? Because nobody plays a repressed lover on the verge of a breakdown better than her. The role of Jules in The Kids Are All Right perfectly fits the Moore mold, and she delivers exactly what is required. The bohemian, free spirited parent counter to Bening's stubborn Nic. Some may say this doesn't dictate praise, but I disagree. Moore plays the character so well, each time she can offer a different look on it. From the dedicated housewife to the idealistic bohemian, she exemplifies it all.

4. Olivia Williams for "THE GHOST WRITER"

My personal lackluster of affection towards Ghost Writer didn't stop me from paying special attention to the always dynamic Olivia Williams. Despite being among some of the great English beauties working in Hollywood today (if The Graduate gets remade she's among the my top 3 ideal choices), she has the range and look for any role. In The Ghost Writer she is asked to carry a wide series of emotions. Volatile, aggressive, sensitive, depressed, longing, manipulative, and she handles each one with grace and determination. It's a great role, and a great performance, which I wish would garner more Oscar discussion.

3. Melissa Leo for "THE FIGHTER"

Alright members of the internet, where is my app with Melissa Leo saying "MTV girl" only a click away!? Alternating between sullen, ill-tempered, and yearning, she tackles the versatile role of Alice Ward, Micky's domineering mothering. With pursed lips, a chicken walk, and the hair to match, Leo entered the hearts of viewers, and spun their wheel of emotions in every which way you can imagine. She's exactly what the film needs her to be, the audience wants her to be, and the demonstrative force in Micky's controlled life.

2. Jacki Weaver for "ANIMAL KINGDOM"

If you blink during her screen time in the vibrant and intense Animal Kingdom, you may just miss the brilliance of Weaver. Her cold, manipulative, overtly affectionate ways set the tone for the distinctly frigid Australian film. The way she controls everyone around her without even the slightest hint of doing so is perfect. Janine is a force to be reckoned with, and if you take your eyes off her for a second you'll find she doesn't need you. The only thing she truly loves in this world are her sons. They are her everything. Weaver nails it beyond compare, and should be a more heavily featured Oscar contender.

1. Barbara Hershey for "BLACK SWAN"

How it has come to pass that Mila Kunis is a more viable Oscar contender than Barbara Hershey for the same film lies in a realm far beyond my mental comprehension (I suppose cunnilingus will take you places after all...). Don't get me wrong, I believe Kunis is fine, but Hershey is on a whole other level entirely. Psychotic, controlling, demanding, but at the same time caring, Hershey is the feature representative of the domineering mother character that helped define many great 2010 roles (see above two). Given the opportunity, I would break down the film into just her roles, entitle it a short, and just watch her over and over again. I'm of the opinion that while Portman is great, Hershey is the definition of perfect.


Well ladies and gentlemen, that about does it for this week's LiE Awards installment. I do hope to have Lead Acting and Directing over to you all before the next week is out. Then of course, my top 10 films of 2010 (hopefully before they become too irrelevant).

Be sure you toss me your feedback on who you believe should be featured here! Keep in mind, due to release dates, there are several prominent films I've yet to see.

The American (2010)

OVERALL SCORE: 7.75/10

Every year a handful of rather curious films make their way into the public foray of wide release. These films are often distinguishable from your grade A, prime Hollywood blockbuster by the even more aberrant phrases which accompany reviews of them. Most notably phrases like "deliberately slow," which of course comes in strict confrontation with the films that are "accidentally slow..." most likely due to some sort of crass infection (or having seen one too many Twilight films). Thus, ladies and gentlemen, I present for your viewing pleasure, or agony depending on personal preference, The American.

The tale of an assassin for hire going into hiding, on the run from a mysterious foe, is an old one we all know too well. These days they're often marked by the dire need for our hero, or often anti-hero, to wipe out entire villages worth of foes in an effort to either prove their innocence, or no longer be cost effective to hunt (takes lots of money to train a good spy, shame to train them all only to be killed by the one you paid good money to train and now want dead). In that respect, The American quite handily sidesteps the modern mold.

Built more on atmosphere than modern thrills, The American is moody, taut, and without judgment. Our hero is solicitous by nature and the path he has chosen. His apparent distaste toward his past derives from the consequences of his actions, not necessarily the moral ambiguity of them. He sees little wrong in killing, as he feels justified whenever he does so (though this could easily be a case of self-delusion - given his attitude).

Clooney is spot on as the dispassionate lead, Jack. Jack is a man built on repetition, and director Anton Corbijn aptly captures that. It is for that fact alone that many may find Jack to be a drawling and uninteresting character. He visits only the same girl at the same brothel, partakes in routine exercises, and handles time consuming, seemingly monotonous, fastidious tasks (such as the creation of a new gun from scratch). Corbijn's direction realizes all those activities, along with Jack's interaction with the folk of the small town in which he resides, and budding relationship with the prostitute.

Make no mistake, unlike many films which would pounce this motif in a moment, The American steers far away from the generic "small town rallies behind stranger whose become 'one of them,'" in favor of the more subtle one on one relationships that affect Jack's life. His interactions with the local religious leader, Father Benedetto (Paolo Bonacelli), new client Mathilde (Thekla Reuten), and prostitute Clara (Violante Placido) adversely affect his life. In that they merely open up the wounds (metaphorically and literally) that he keeps hidden deep inside. At the same time he presents upon them the very things they wish to shy away from in themselves.

The supporting cast displays deft timing and understanding of what they represent to the story (granted quite of a few of the female cast spend a good deal of the film topless - exception to Thekla Reuten). Their travels in and out of the tale are timely, and based on the need of Jack at that particular moment. Benedetto offers him guidance, Mathilde presents something to do, and Clara caps it off by delivering affection and companionship.

As a director, Anton Corbijn shows a decidedly strong knack for capturing the simple beauty of Italy without over glorifying it. It is far too often the case of European-located (American starred) dramas/thrillers/comedies that they feature more as advertisements for how much better everything is over there (especially if you're rich) than they are ever the aforementioned categories. The American manages to do some of that without being preachy, and still analyzing the seedy underbelly of the world in which it resides. There's a complex series of characteristics that define Corbijn's Italy, from violence, sex, and monotony to simplicity, wine, romance, and sweeping landscapes.

The slowness of The American can be defended through the factor that it seeks to capture them all without forcing the issue. I felt the movie's run time of an hour and forty five minutes perfectly fit the mood Corbijn created. The music of Herbert Gronemeyer, with his first score since the 1980's, perfectly matched it and helped carry along its more winding moments.

Despite what some people wish, I don't think The American needed any more violence/action than what it presents. The violence isn't what's important and it's spaced evenly enough throughout the film, with intermittent moments of tension to keep the ball rolling. I was rather taken by the characterizations, and wish, if anything, Corbijn had dedicated more moments to their exposition than the minutes he would spend focusing on Jack cleaning a barrel (or filling a can with bullets).

Because of those differing moments, I struggle to claim The American as an excellent film reaching into the realm of this year's upper echelon. I found it perfectly acceptable, engaging, and intense for my needs (in all honesty, coming off a Yasujiro Ozu bend helps make lots of things feel speedy), but the movie felt aloof enough to leave me a bit disconnected. I want to be engaged and enthralled in the world, but much like its main character I felt as if a long outstretched arm prevented it. The devil is in the details, and The American avoids the details of its plot in favor of imagery. To many this may be a sign of greatness, but at times I found it frustrating.

All in all, The American summarizes to a stagnant thriller with enough juice in the engine to keep moving, and more than enough characters to maintain my level of interest. Those who prefer action with witty-satirical heroes will likely find little to enjoy in Corbijn's tale. But if you're willing to give it a go and accept it for what it is, there's plenty of emotion and depth to behold.

Film Credits:
Directed By: Anton Corbijn
Written By: Rowan Joffe
Based on the Novel By: Martin Booth

Catfish (2010)

OVERALL SCORE: 7.50/10

For those of us wrapped up in the encompassing spread of social networking, it is at times easy to forget what goes on behind the screen of those individuals we never meet. Masked through avatars, random photos, and friends built entirely on the basis of those networks, you at times find yourself wondering just how well you know these people with whom you discuss the events of your life. Of course, I promise you can always trust that I will forever be an eighteen year old Hawaiian underwear model with a perfect set of abs, gentile personality, and complete lack of an ego.... what are you looking at?

In essence, Catfish, regardless of whether or not you accept it as real or fake, takes a look at people's use of social network as an escape from the world. With a little creativity, and a few carefully placed clicks, social networking presents humans with a platform to change the very things they dislike about themselves. Are you reserved and in need of an outlet for your frustration? Come on here and be an asshole! It's not like anyone's going to recognize you in your everyday life. Maybe you're dissatisfied with your life and want to be well known. No problem, pick a nice picture of yourself, paint a lovely portrait of your life, and away you go!

There's very seldom any fact checking done in the online realm. Maybe a handful of use will meet in our lifetime, and even then we're not likely to find we all act the same way in real life as we do on here. Enter the tale of Yaniv "Nev" Schulman, a photographer whose online friendship and dealings with Abby, a child painting prodigy, forever change the way he views the Internet.

Disregarding the continuous debate, I found Catfish to be a rather riveting tale of someone getting in too deep online with people they're not familiar with. Having dealt with the online forum for many years, there are quite a few aspects of Catfish I found particularly captivating. Specifically, the way we try and present ourselves online in contrast to our own personality.

Nev is shown as being a trusting and straightforward kind of guy. He accepts what is handed to him because there exists no countering evidence worth investigating. Yet, I feel as if there is a real reason he didn't do much investigating. From the start I believe Nev needed Abby to be exactly who, and what, he was told she was. It was not pertinent to the world he was constructing for her to be anything but one hundred percent real. That is, until he begins to form a viable emotional connection to her and her family.

Once that emotional connection is established, he becomes invested in the world of Abby and her family. They become prominent features of his life, love, and happiness. The inevitable fracturing of that reality becomes the catalyst for much of the stark and solemn tone that paints the second half of Catfish as a tale of much more than one man's journey for the truth.

Directors Ariel Schulman, Nev's brother, and Henry Joost do a wonderful job of capturing the events in a fashion that is as realistic as they come. At times they're shots may seem a tad bit too opportunistic, but they maintain a level of storytelling so engaging it removes the need to question the authenticity of the events at hand.

At times I felt as if the directors were reaching for more than was really there, and I wondered whether we were getting the full picture. Catfish plays out much more like a fictional narrative than a documentary. The primary difference being, everything we are shown fits into place in the sequence of events. There's hardly an important moment where the camera happened to be off, or not available. Though by today's standards, one could make the argument that Catfish plays out about as realistic as reality TV....

Film Credits:
Directed By: Henry Joost & Ariel Schulman

 

The Fighter (2010)

OVERALL SCORE: 8.25/10

Perhaps it is because a bout can be easily analogized to life itself that we find ourselves gravitating to the many tales of overcoming odds found in boxing. They may, at times, flirt with predictability, but in the hands of any storyteller of note, even the most straightforward tales of success can find welcome ears. Enter David O. Russell, the talented writer-director behind the stylistic Three Kings and controversial I Heart Huckabees.

Teaming up for the third time with Mark Wahlberg, the dynamic duo bring together the story of Micky Ward, an Irish boxer hailing from Lowell, Massachusetts. He's lost several of his recent fights, and seems on a downward spiral. His half-brother, and trainer, Dicky Eklund (Christian Bale) is an ex-boxer himself, famous in their hometown for his one-time match against Sugar Ray Leonard, and a struggling crack addict. Their respective mother, Alice Ward (Melissa Leo), serves as manager for Micky and seems lost in love for the heyday of her eldest son, Dicky.

Together, Dicky and Alice create an overbearing situation in which Micky simply cannot win. If he veers away from them, he's seen as betraying the family. But if he sticks with them, eventually their self-destructive ways will take him down with them.

Condensing a series of events which took place over a near ten year period, THE FIGHTER chronicles Micky Ward's efforts at finding a balance between the two extremes facing him. When Charlene (Amy Adams), a local barmaid, enters the picture as his romantic interest, the pressure on Ward to finally step up and take control of his life hits a boiling point. As he rightly notes, he's 'not getting any younger' and what he does now must be for him, and entirely about him. No longer can his life be lived vicariously through those around him.

Mark Wahlberg has never been the most dynamic actor, and as such he plays Micky Ward on an even keel. Never one to 'blow up' or 'break down,' Wahlberg takes Ward through his series of emotions with declarative statements and a sympathy inducing sad puppy face. Wahlberg's restrained performance turns out to be a blessing in disguise for The Fighter as it puts the career defining performances of Bale and Leo on a pedestal to be admired.

From the pencil-thin body shape and twitchy eyes to the manner of speak, and exaggerated personality, Bale takes Dicky Eklund off the screen and right into your chair. Seemingly hyperbolic, the staunch knowledge that Eklund is in fact the way he is portrayed supplies added need to praise Bale. Bale's upbeat Eklund provides the film with a much needed complex character through which we can siphon humor and sadness during the film's intermediary moments between fights. Leo's constantly pursed face, and controlling persona as Alice supplies the movie with someone who is not so much a villian, but a sympathetic focal point for any rage the audience feels. Her destructive obsession with an idealistic life in which Dicky doesn't do drugs and Micky loves every decision she makes forces the very things she wishes to avoid upon the ones she loves.

The rest of the supporting cast step up to the caliber of the aforementioned and deliver their performances with steadfast determination. Adams is particularly strong, but seldom asked to do a lot other than be sexy, and occasionally angry/melancholy (both of which she excels at). It may be a bit cruel to say this, but the roles of the sisters rely as much on hair as they do on their respective acting chops. In the confines of the entire film, they work alongside Micky's father (Jack McGee), and occasionally Dicky, to provide a bit of comic relief.

Coasting over many of the major underlying issues, Russell does a tactful job of keeping The Fighter sentimental without forcing major waterworks. Placing the focus squarely on the actors, Russell shows considerable confidence in their ability to carry a film. A surprise considering Russell's prior films are often recognizable for his vibrant style, blending imagery and real world in presenting the tale. During some of the montages, that picturesque quality presents itself in an effort to show the passage of time and events Russell doesn't feel the need to harp on.

If there's one component of The Fighter I really feel as if O. Russell and company whiff, it's time. Many of the events that transpire occurred over years in real life. The long, winding road aided in the deconstructing of Ward's world and presented the true lengths to which he had to go for a viable title shot. I know in cinema terms you can't be expected to traverse years without losing some of the moments in between, but I feel as if here the emotional connection molded between the audience and main characters would have benefited greatly.

Now, much has been made of Russell's decision to use an HBO presentation style when shooting the fight scenes, particularly the final match-up. Personally, I found it neither overtly beneficial, nor necessarily detracting. There's something to be said for keeping ourselves as observers in those final scenes, and only bearing brief witness to the ringside conversations. As well, I felt as if putting us into the middle of the fight, and the pain in each punch only works if that is a crucial component to your story (such as can be found in Cinderella Man). Here, the hits Ward takes in the ring matter little in comparison to the ones he takes out of it. In that respect, The Fighter delivers exactly what it intends and exceeds admirably.

The King's Speech (2010)

OVERALL RATING: 8.50/10

I was once asked to speak in front of a crowd of people, and discuss my life. How it had changed so drastically due to the events surrounding the institution I was speaking on behalf of, and convince these people they could gain the same from it. I prepared my best. Wrote out the story the way I wished to tell it; even included a few jokes I could sneak in. So when the night finally came I was convinced I was ready. Striding up when my name was called, I looked out over the room of people... and immediately forgot every single damn word.

Admittedly the room I was speaking to only featured about Forty people so my relative association to King George VI, here portrayed by Colin Firth (A Single Man, Love Actually), is limited. Yet, the principles are still the same. Speaking in front of people can be an incredibly trying and difficult action. It's not made any easier when you carry the weight of a crown, hundreds of years of family history, and the expectations of an entire nation.

King George VI is perhaps one of the most dynamic characters of the year. Stoic and tempered, if you didn't know the man you'd think he was nothing but a bumbling, solemn man. However, he carries with him a long history of issues, both tragic and pressure indicative, that have paved the way to his current form. He believes in family honor because it is something he can hold onto. It won't betray him or look down on him - it's a set of rules, and rules do not judge. He also believes in his wife and children because they love him, support him, and care for him. They see greatness even in his weakest moments.

In my eyes, Firth is absolutely perfect as 'Bertie' (so nicknamed by his family and since I don't care to type out his entire name over and over again I'll use it as well). He inhabits every quirk and mannerism asked of him. His speech and the way he hits those stammers are so subtle, and yet he makes them sublime. When his eyes water up while he's mad (or feels regret and sadness) the audience is drawn to him like a mother wishing to protect her child. There's such an innocence to him that you feel impressed by his intellect, quick wit, and self-aware sense of humor. Dynamic, and sympathetic, this is without a doubt my favorite character, and performance, of the year.

Sharing the screen with him we have Geoffrey Rush as his speech therapist Lionel Logue. Logue is given due time to develop as a character, and for the most part Rush shines. Australian by birth, Logue shows a flailing interest in the formalities and history a Prince and King would have to deal with on a daily basis. His demeanor, in stark contrast, helps in breaking down the walls of protection Bertie creates to shield himself from his past. Lionel is not the most dynamic character, but I quite enjoyed his expository moments in the scenes in which we see him interact with his family.

I did find it unfortunate that the other central figure of the film, Queen Elizabeth (Helena Bonham Carter), isn't given nearly as much to work with as her male counterparts. In essence, she's what her husband needs her to be. Strong, caring, and principled she carries much of the balance between the polarizing personalities of Lionel and Bertie. One could make an argument that if this were a comedy trio she'd be the 'straight' one who gets a few laughs but often exists solely to control the flow of the banter between her outlandish comrades.

As an instant rule of actor thumb, I appreciate anytime Derek Jacobi finds his way into a film. Here, alongside Timothy Spall as Churchill (whose main role is to remind us of Hitler's presence), Guy Pearce as the soon to be abdicated King Edward VIII, and Michael Gambon and Claire Bloom as King George V & Queen Mary, we get a well rounded supporting cast of seasoned vets. It's nice to see such talented actors given roles that do require depth, even if they are throw away and short lived.

One of the aspects of the film I found most frustrating was the direction of Tom Hooper (The Damned United, Longford). At times Hooper could be absolutely brilliant, capturing every tick and emotional struggle these characters went through. Yet, there were moments (especially early one) where I felt as if he didn't know how he wanted to compose a scene. As such many of conversation scenes had a sporadic series of cuts showing different angles on two people talking back and forth. I don't like this. It felt intrusive, and alienating amidst some very humane moments. With the talent involved, a wide shot and rolling camera is all he really needed (something I feel Hooper comes to terms with as the film goes on).

As well, I felt as if King's Speech had a bad habit of lingering too long on uninteresting issues. When the main cast of characters are conversing there's a lot of amazing drama and comedy to behold. During the quiet moments, or conversations with some of the secondary stars an element of that magic is lost. The only thing I can attest it to is the high charm and wit of the main trio. They play their characters so lively and volatile, it's hard to deal with the more flatlined co-stars who often exist just to supply backdrop elements. In a film like this, where the movie is about the journey of the characters over any tangible 'plot,' making sure you nail their time together is paramount.

In the end, The King's Speech is without a doubt one of the more enjoyable experiences of the year. Moving, funny, and full of heart, I can't help but feel as if I was part of a true and excitable journey. In context of the entire tale, many of its flaws seem negligible. As such I can only fault it a bit, and appreciate it for the roller coaster ride of emotions it took me on. There's nothing wrong with being 'oscar bait,' especially when the bait you're using is delectable.

Film Credits:
Directed By: Tom Hooper
Written By: David Seidler