Ari Graynor steals the show with her high-spirited, comedic performance in this new indie comedy.
For a Good Time,Call.. — When times are tough, you have to find some way to pay the bills. And though phone-sex is not as sketchy and dangerous as strolling the streets, it’s still provocative, edgy, and funny enough to anchor a comedy like For a Good Time, Call… Lauren Miller (the film’s co-writer) stars as a recently dumped and fired young woman who cannot afford to live by herself, so enlists the help of her friend (Justin Long) to find her a suitable roommate. She turns out to be Katie (Ari Graynor), a crass, free-spirited yet high-strung “writer” who cannot get past an incident that has kept the two girls fighting since college. But as hard times fall on both of them, Katie’s secret profession as a sex phone operator creates big business for the two, as well as a strong, funny, compassionate friendship. Raunchy humor disguising warmth? Two frenemies realizing that they’re meant for one another? Hardly new stuff. Yet Travis’ film rides this generic wave to plenty of laughs, despite the familiarity. It may be a filthy, funny, female version of “The Odd Couple”, but the comedy is well deserved. The screenplay is concise and crisp with biting one-liners, a frank but refreshing approach to sexuality and its taboos, and surprising characters for such a low-concept premise. Miller nails the funny transition from quiet sensitivity that boils into smoldering confidence, while imbuing her character’s vulnerability with a high head and unexpected grace for a raunchy comedy. As great as Miller is, Graynor owns the movie – from bit but memorable parts in movies like Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist to Whip It, her vibrant, outrageous, and hilarious charisma is the yin to her nuanced, endearing yang. She helps build a believable, amusing relationship with Miller’s character, creating solid chemistry that drives this familiar but funny film. B
Rashida Jones stars in and co-wrote this low-key yet touching romantic-comedy.
Celeste and Jesse Forever–Making a romantic-comedy that abandons clichés for resonance, sincerity, and pure wit seems unheard of today, but that’s exactly what Lee Toland Krieger’s Celeste and Jesse Forever does. Co-written by Rashida Jones (Parks and Recreation) and Will McCormick, the film tells the story of best friends Celeste (Jones) and Jesse (Andy Samberg) who are so goofy and carefree with one another that it comes as a surprise to both their friends and the audience that they are a couple going through a seemingly amicable divorce. All they want to do is remain good friends through and after the separation, but their ties are tested once Jesse becomes an immediate father with a one-night stand and Celeste confronts her true feelings. The strength of the movie is founded on the solid, unpredictable, and biting script from Jones and McCormick. They nail the eccentricities, quirks, and heart of a peculiar relationship like Celeste and Jesse’s, including awkward yet funny inside jokes and honest conversations. They ground these two characters in surprising depth and emotional instability and let them guide the story, a risk that is pulled off due to an engrossing and consistent development on both of their parts. Celeste and Jesse are normal, messy, and real, yet their lives would not be as believable without the terrific lead performances. Samberg is surprisingly nuanced and underplays his role with vulnerability and subtly, a testament to his acting chops since he usually employs his typical, overly energetic charisma on Saturday Night Live. Yet Jones is the film’s strongest asset—her impeccable comic timing and fearless portrayal of sometimes-irritating anguish and confusion go into a performance that’s funny, moving, and altogether riveting. Everyone knows Jones has talent from her work on TV, but this is finally a formal and deserved display of what she can master both in terms of performance and brilliant writing. Though the supporting cast is made up of a strong ensemble that includes Ari Graynor, Chris Messina, and Elijah Wood, it’s Jones who not only gives the film’s strongest turn but also one of the year’s most intriguing and best female performances. Krieger’s direction is also on target and swift, yet there are a few unnecessary indulgences in focus and close-up usages. That said, this is a low-key yet excellent romantic comedy that illustrates Jones’ incredible talent. A
Here’s the trailer:
Matthew McConaughey pulsates a certain, suave terror in William Friedkin’s adaptation.
Killer Joe —Adapting plays can be tricky, but director William Friedkin’s grasp on Tracy Letts’ source material proves to be an effortless, commanding collaboration. Letts’ story is about a young, trailer-bound Texas family whose son (Emile Hirsch) decides the best way to get out of his drug-dealing debt is to kill his awful mother and collect the life insurance money. His father (Thomas Haden Church) accompanies his son to meet with a contract killer (Matthew McConaughey) who will execute the operation but, due to the plan’s nature, chooses to be with the family’s ditzy yet deranged daughter (Juno Temple) as a retainer before his insurance fee comes through. Yet plans derail, and McConaughey’s titular Joe takes sadistic, devious control of the situation. Highly controversial before its release, Killer Joe is a perfect marriage between Letts’ firecracker dialogue and Friedkin’s auteuristic techniques. Scenes crackle with dark humor and unique characterizations (from Temple’s bizarre sleepwalking to Gina Gershon’s self-interest) while Friedkin adds burning tension just as he did in films like The French Connection and The Excorcist through special attention to framing composition and sound. It’s safe to say that McConaughey gives the riskiest yet strongest performance of his career thus far—after dabbling in commercial crap and lame romantic-comedies for the past ten years, he’s found a meaty role with which he gives a captivatingly terrifying performance. He’s sinister, strange, and violent, embodying and communicating a horrific intensity that’s unlike anything that has been on screen all year. His co-stars all bring their sordid characters to life, from Hirsch’s portrayal of stubborn stupidity to Gershon’s demolishing loyalty. What’s most impressive about this darkly hilarious noir is Friedkin’s master of the material. He never indulges too much in its deviant terror, yet doesn’t shy away from the source’s jarring sequences—though he leaves things boiling for a bit too long in the middle, he caps off the story with an almost unprecedented combination of wit, disgust, triumph, and pure horror that oddly works. Killer Joe is strange as can be, yet utterly flooring. A-
Anderson’s likable period comedy boasts an eclectic cast and a detailed, nuanced story.
Moonrise Kingdom–I can’t say that I’ve always been a big Wes Anderson fan. Rushmore is a classic, but his playfulness is charming to a fault – the self-awareness of his movies becomes less enjoyable as it becomes more grating. But, of course, he’s a thousand times more innovative than many filmmakers out there today so I’m always intrigued by what he has to offer. His latest, Moonrise Kingdom, has fortunately captured his best lightning in a warm, funny 94-minute bottle. Anderson’s film tells the story of Sam and Suzy, two incredibly precocious, misunderstood, pre-teen outcasts in a small northeastern island town who fall in love and plan to runaway together. Upon their escape, of course, is uproar from Suzy’s parents (Frances McDormand and Bill Murray, well-cast and paired) who hire Detective Sharp (Bruce Willis) to lead an investigation into the kids’ disappearance. Along with the help from Sam’s dutiful and motivated Cub Scout master (Edward Norton), a search party forms to find the children while each adult seems to be affected by their young yet undeniable love. A recurring issue in a few of Anderson’s films is that the plots aren’t necessarily layered but complicated with too many stock side-characters and story-lines, such as in The Royal Tenenbaums and The Life Aquatic. Here, however, Anderson uses a simple set-up as a framework to understanding the same idea that is the basis for all intricate bonds and relationships: love. This is a refreshing, honest, and biting love story that explores several relatable facets of the emotion such as its joy, awkwardness, pain, and hope; it combines the sincerity of Fantastic Mr. Fox and the emotional introspectiveness of Rushmore. And Anderson’s distinct style that’s composed of camera pans, disjointed cutting, and retro music and titles works to situate the film in its ‘60s setting and create a tone that’s full of humanity as well as whimsy – in other words, Anderson’s bouncy direction is effective, not irritating. The script is solid and witty, full of mature insights into both decaying and flowering relationships and colorful characterizations that are brought to life by a strong, eccentric cast. Murray and McDormand are excellent in their small but pivotal roles, conveying authentic heartbreak with pathos and an equal amount of wryness. Jared Gilman and Kara Hayward are also fantastic as the main young couple, rooting their awkward yet natural romance in authenticity and charisma. And though there are some funny cameos from Jason Schwartzman, Harvey Keitel, and Tilda Swinton, Bruce Willis gives the film’s best performance as the lonely cop in the center of this small-town craze who’s not afraid to stubbornly mask his heartbreak yet find some belief and comfort in Sam and Suzy’s flee. It’s a beautifully written character and Willis surprisingly gives a well-rounded, amusing, and affecting turn – John McClane has a heart, after all (and who knew Wes Anderson would be the one to let it shine?). Moonrise Kingdom may move you with its vibrant and inventive treatment of first love, or it might still alienate those averse to Anderson’s quirky aesthetics (despite the strengths, it’s likely it won’t convert many non-fans). Nonetheless, it’s an entertaining and hysterical love stories as well as a gleeful nostalgia piece that anyone can connect to. A-
Maiwenn’s new crime drama is harrowing, suspenseful, and provocative.
Polisse–French actress-director Maiwenn does not shy away from the truth in her new film that follows the every day tribulations of the Parisian Child Protection Unit. Maiwenn herself plays an aristocratic photojournalist who tags along with the police division, accompanying and documenting the various crimes and trials they attempt to uncover and stop. There’s not really a stable story line due to the film’s episodic nature and large cast of characters, which at times hinders the effectiveness. But this chilling, shocking, yet highly connectable film is truly an ensemble drama with an excellent cast that augments the film’s neo-realist and emotional power. Maiwenn follows an entire unit but really focuses on seven characters, including a scarred and passionate member (French rapper Joey Starr) driven by the love for his daughter, two co-investigators with a disintegrating friendship (Karin Viard and Marina Fois), and Arab-French Nora (Naidra Ayadi). Though the film depicts crimes influenced by real-life incidents that are quite disturbing and raw at times, what Maiwenn’s film primarily (and strongly) does is probe the personal complexities and psychological sufferings of the work – it’s rewarding and heroic, but also aching and acidic. She captures this with several scenes of blow-ups and confrontations between members and their superiors that are filmed with intense cuts and hand-held cameras, while the investigations and interviews themselves are just as reality-based and routine as they are intriguing. The film matches its subject’s line of work and is not structured in any conventional means, as it trades a normal narrative for a disjointed series of incidents that are driven by cases and (more interestingly) personal development. Thus, the pacing of the film lags from time to time, but this enhances and ignites electric character drama between the officers. The acting is excellent across the board, with particularly strong performances from Viard and Fois – they effortlessly convey their characters’ deterioration with subtle tragedy. Maiwenn’s film is perceptive and eye-opening, but her ability to portray a group of people who deal with raw intensity on a daily basis with such relatable depth, grace, and even humor, is even more impressive. A-
All three of these are new independent films opening in limited release this Spring before eventually expanding soon, and have also been on the festival circuit for some time.
Brit Marling co-stars in this new drama from director Zal Batmanglij.
Sound of My Voice–Sundance 2011 might as well have been called the Brit Marling festival, because both of her independent films that she starred in and co-wrote were picked up for distribution by Fox Searchlight. The first, Another Earth, was a little intriguing but ultimately dull due to its turgid pacing and melodramatic tone, but Sound of My Voice is consistently interesting and unexpectedly moving. It tells the story of two documentary filmmakers (Christopher Denham and Nicole Vicius) who attempt to infiltrate and expose a hidden cult centered around a leader (Brit Marling) who claims to be from the future. It’s a simple set-up, but it’s solidly executed with a swift but layered plot and developed characters. It’s obvious to say that this is another film that supports low-budget aesthetics’ potential for telling fantastic stories, but it’s never been more true here with Batmanglij’s terrific direction. Handheld cameras, fast editing, and real locations give it an authentic tension and familiarity. Yet this cult movie is unlike it’s similar predecessor, Martha Marcy May Marlene; while Batmanglij’s film is gripping, it’s mostly tense in a purely emotional sense rather than sending chills down your spine. It’s about trust and loyalty, not only in others but also in oneself–a simple message that’s espoused by an interesting script co-written by Batmanglij and Marling (who also gives an excellent, hypnotic performance as the leader). Though the ending is somewhat of a letdown (it’s simultaneously provocative and a cop-out), Sound of My Voice is a great debut from a new independent director and is a bold little mystery. B+
Here’s the trailer:
Juliette Binoche stars in this cold and unnerving sexual drama.
Elles–Malgorzata Szumowska’s Elles is a frustrating film, relying on such obvious choices and circumstances to convey something that’s way deeper than the film is willing to go. Juliette Binoche stars as a Parisan investigative journalist for Elle Magazine who is writing an article on teenage prostitution, as she befriends and interviews two young women in college who make a living out of escorting and sleeping with older, married men. As the interviews get more in-depth and into darker, more sexual territory, Binoche’s journalist starts to test her own limits and reflect on her own dissatisfaction and emptiness. It’s clear that Elles is going for something extremely internal and psychological concerning Binoche’s character (which is an intriguing, dangerous route to go), but the film fails to explore that inherent complexity in favor for explicit shock value. Throughout the interviews, there are several scenes of the girls with their clients and graphically performing sexual acts – it’s fine to exemplify what they’re going through and to illustrate how damaging and harrowing it can be, but it becomes so heavy-handed, redundant, and exploitative that no point is really being made. Szumowska is mistaking depictions of aberrant sex for psychological voyeurism. Binoche does what she can with her role and is easily the film’s biggest (and only) appeal, but Elles fails to be anything more than off-putting, dull, and misguided. C-
Here’s the trailer:
Jack Black and Shirley MacLaine star in Richard Linklater’s black comedy.
Bernie–Jack Black has recently seemed to have made obvious, safe career choices, but in Richard Linklater’s newest film, he proves to be finally breaking the mold a bit. He stars as the titular Bernie, a cheery, highly affable assistant funeral director in the small town of Carthage, Texas. He’s friends to all of the widows and widowers of the deceased (of whom he’s planned their funeral ceremonies), including one bitter, unpopular old woman, Marjorie Nuget (Shirley MacLaine in a hilarious performance). He begins to bring the warmth and joy out of her…until she starts taking advantage of his time and abusing his services. Soon enough, Bernie clicks and the whole town is in a frenzy. Richard Linklater is a hard director to pin down (which is a great thing), with a filmography as varied as it gets (I’m having trouble connecting The School of Rock to Before Sunset). But he flawlessly depicts this gossipy, pleasant small town and its cast of characters whom he interviews with a highly effective documentary format as each one dishes on what they know and speculate about Bernie and Marjorie. It’s an interesting approach that pays off, rooting the crazy story in authentic, small-town chatter and craze. But what does get a tad old is the narrative itself–it takes too long to reach Bernie’s violent epiphany, even though everything leading up to it is darkly hysterical. Also, sometimes the script gives uneven screen time to either the interviews or the story. Besides those flaws, though, there’s much that Bernie offers. It’s entertaining, shocking, and consistently funny, with three brilliant performances from Black, MacLaine, and Matthew McConaughey as Carthage’s spotlight-hungry defense attorney who is one of the only people who doesn’t buy Bernie’s innocent-heart plea. Speaking of whom, Black gives his best performance to date with layers of charm, ambiguity, and crippling panic. This is a small dark comedy that’s as introspective as it is funny. B
Mark Duplass, Emily Blunt, and Rosemarie DeWitt are three's company in Shelton's newest feature.
Your Sister’s Sister–In 2009, Lynn Shelton made the surprising, honest bromance Humpday (which was, needless to say, boundary-pushing for that novel term). I enjoyed the film for what it was, but couldn’t help feel that the mumblecore movement (i.e. mostly improvised films with a documentary aesthetic) was hitting a wall. It seemed to be an interesting, but immobile, style rather than a narrative technique. Three years later and 2012 has proved me wrong—not only was the Duplass brothers’ Jeff Who Lives at Home a wonderful and charming comedy, but Shelton’s latest, Your Sister’s Sister, brilliantly defies mumblecore doubt. Emily Blunt stars as Iris, a woman whose good friend (Mark Duplass) is self-destructively grieving for the death of his brother (whom she used to date). She insists that he get some head space up at her father’s cabin but, when he does, he meets Iris’ sister, Hannah (Rosemarie DeWitt), who is also staying to get over a recent breakup. What ensues is awkward, drunken sex between the two—made even more comfortable by Iris’ surprise arrival the next morning. The film carefully avoids pratfalls and clichés of love triangles to tell an honest and affecting story of grief and company. Shelton moves the film along at a very brisk pace (it clocks in right at an hour-and-a-half, never feeling too long) and doesn’t move the plot into gratuitous, time-wasting territory. If anything, I wanted to spend even more time with these three fascinating characters, a testament to Shelton’s narrative conception and the skillfully improvised performances from the three leads. Duplass makes his character, Jack, loveably flawed and painfully realistic, while Emily Blunt and Rosemarie DeWitt have fantastic sister chemistry. Their performances really drive the film, as their relationship is authentically funny, uncomfortable, and heartbreaking. Shelton’s use of improvisation and hand-held camera (i.e. mumblecore) has convinced me that this is not mere indie style—this is an honest, refreshing, and effective means of exploring a poignant sister relationship and telling a captivating story. Your Sister’s Sister excels on many levels, but the happiest it made me was when it proved me wrong about mumblecore. A
Here’s the trailer:
Greta Gerwig gives a complicated, funny performance in Daryl Wein's romantic-comedy.
Lola Versus—Lola Versus is an imperfect romantic-comedy that gives the underrated Greta Gerwig a juicy role and some funny moments, but not much else. Gerwig stars as the titular Lola, a woman approaching 30 who is suddenly and inexplicably dumped by her fiancé. Saddled with confusion and slightly broken determination, she tries to navigate the single life with the help of her best friend (Zoe Lister-Jones) but finds herself involved in a few romantic entanglements, drunken benders, and small epiphanies. Lola Versus has plenty to offer, such as a generally entertaining and amusing storyline and a dynamic lead turn from Gerwig. She doesn’t attempt to make Lola a conventionally upbeat, appealing, or really likable character—this is a damaged woman who makes mistakes throughout, and Gerwig skillfully manages to elicit both sympathy and judgment with precise comic timing and heartfelt emotion. Zoe Lister-Jones, however, gets the film’s most laughs as her vocally single best friend who gives the wrong advice with the right intentions; she nails nearly every scene she’s in with laugh-out-loud moments. The problem, though, with Lola Versus is that its character is simply not enough to be the basis of an entire story. Character studies can be interesting and drive a film’s plot more so than actual incidents, but Lola is slightly underwritten and all too familiar to center a film around. Gerwig gives it her all, but Lola’s actions begin to become redundant. Within the first fifteen minutes, it’s clear what the film’s message is (nothing’s wrong with solitude!) but I spent the rest of the film watching (and waiting) to see how it would reach the predicted conclusion. Also, the pacing is quite slow due to the disjointed and episodic narrative (along with many unnecessary montages), as Lola jumps from one situation (or mistake) to another, eventually leading to her emotional realization at the end. In that respect, the film starts to take itself too seriously as it tries to cover too much painful ground regarding breakups that, when Lola finally loses it, it feels overdue and underwhelming. This isn’t to say that Lola Versus is a bad film—it’s perfectly enjoyable and even insightful—but I can’t say I connected with it as much as I could’ve because of the misguided story and muddled character. B-
Greta Gerwig and Analeigh Tipton star in Stillman's first film in fourteen years.
Damsels in Distress–He made three of the wittiest and sharpest social satires in the ’90s and nearly disappeared, but now writer-director Whit Stillman is back with a spin on the college comedy. Damsels in Distress tells the story of three ambitious students (each of whom bear that Tracy Flick/Lesley Knope aspiration) who take in a humble and smart transfer student (Analeigh Tipton) and impart their “wisdom” and goals of improving the social lifestyle of their university campus, which include promoting hygiene, class, and depression-fighting tap-dancing. It sounds absurd, quirky, and a bit bizarre, and it certainly is. But these four girls fascinatingly grow in and out of realizations and epiphanies surrounding their role on campus and amongst the certain men in their life (including a pathologically lying student, played by Adam Brody). Damsels in Distress isn’t as strong as a film as Stillman’s last, The Last Days of Disco, which managed to be equally warm and edgy (and altogether hysterical). Damsels is that in doses, but still is vibrantly funny, eccentric, and even feel-good. What’s especially impressive about Stillman’s film is that none of the main characters’ quirks mold them into archetypes–Violet (played by Greta Gerwig) could have easily been a comedic clone of every ambitious student portrayed in film, but the choices she makes throughout are equal parts silly and surprising. Yes, they’re all idiosyncratic, but for the purpose of believably illustrating their delusional lifestyle rather than merely mocking them through obvious gags. Stillman’s script crafts these interesting, peculiar people and arms them with sharp and insightful dialogue; it’s a pleasure to see he hasn’t lost that gift that’s made his first three films so memorable and classic. The performances are also terrific, with Gerwig and Brody taking on these odd characters with humor, grace, and no hesitation. Whether you like the roles or not, they’re energetically inspired by the dedicated ensemble. The film does, however, run a bit long with too many amusing but over-the-top sequences (a few of the side-characters, Heather and Thor, are overused as comedic devices and become stale near the end). But Stillman still accomplishes what he’s previously perfected–making a comedy that’s as cathartic as it is critical, with a sunshiney disposition that’s not afraid to leave a few wounds. B+
Michelle Williams and Sarah Silverman co-star in Sarah Polley's romantic drama.
Take this Waltz– In 2007, Canadian actress/writer/director Sarah Polley made Away From Her, a beautiful and heartbreaking study of Alzheimer’s impact on a marriage. Her sophomore effort, Take this Waltz, couldn’t be more narratively different and is just as poignant. Michelle Williams stars as a happily married woman who finds herself falling in love with her intriguing neighbor (Luke Kirby), unbeknownst to her chef husband (Seth Rogen, terrific in a dramatic turn). She soon recognizes a strong, internal shift taking place, leaving her with a choice between a comfortable life and an exciting, risky, sexual alternative. But Polley’s film doesn’t dwell on a vague and general question of whether to cheat or not—it focuses on Williams’ hesitation, seduction, and awakening, and Polley could not have done it more gracefully and painfully. Her script is surprising, funny, and extremely moving; none of the characters fall into archetypes (especially not Kirby’s, who plays much more than ‘the other man’ and comes off as a true human being capable of falling in love and being hurt). The dialogue is zippy and sharp, and scenes brim with insight and beauty (probably the best title-drop in recent memory, Leonard Cohen’s song “Take this Waltz” plays during a terrific, one-take sequence). Williams is fantastic, giving a performance that is more exciting and vivacious than her recent turn as Marilyn Monroe. Rogen and Kirby are also quite good in their respective male roles in Williams’ life, but it’s Sarah Silverman who really impresses in a few scenes as Rogen’s sister, delivering some of the funniest and honest lines in the film while breathing life into an authentic, damaged character. The real star of the film, though, is Polley; Away From Her was a wonderful debut, but Take This Waltz cements her as an intelligent, engaging, and honest writer-director whose work I’m now going to be fervently anticipating. A
Cinemaniac 