Tom Hanks stars in this energetic but troubled account a Somalian hijacking.
Captain Phillips – Paul Greengrass’ Captain Phillips executes a harrowing and emotional true story about a Somalian attack on a US-run cargo ship with too much predictable calibration and less of an original edge. The films recounts the events led by Richard Phillips (Tom Hanks, excellent as always), a loyal and hardworking captain whose ship is overtaken by Somalian pirates. As the crew urges Phillips to fight back against the armed captors, Phillips opts for a more noble and compliant approach that has dangerous and risky consequences. A true story of violence, hostages, and international conflict, the core of Captain Phillips is ripe for a masterful and dramatic filmic treatment but Paul Greengrass doesn’t take nearly enough advantage of the opportunity. After beginning with overt thematic exposition in the form of stale dialogue between Phillips and his wife and the Somalians militantly embarking, Greengrass takes the film in a less-than-thrilling direction. Like he’s done with both Bourne movies and Green Zone, Greengrass mistakes increasing action for palpable tension. The chaotic handheld cinematography and fiercely frenetic editing become redundant and routine rather than involving. It’s hard to care about Phillips and his fellow captives because they’ve become pawns in a sudden shoot-em-up frenzy instead of real characters facing taut danger and risk. Within all the fast pacing and energy, there’s very little room for the characters to develop beyond their assigned clichés. There are very few moments in the first hour-and-a-half that are evocative of true fear and vulnerability – Captain Phillips is too concerned with wrapping itself up in bombastic and vacant techniques and tropes. There’s little along the lines of story and true development until about the final third of the movie when the narrative stakes are high and the treatment actually becomes suspenseful (reflective of Greengrass’ perceptive directorial talents displayed in Bloody Sunday and United 93 that are barely present here) . Without ruining the film, the setting becomes much more claustrophobic and tension starts to emerge from the character dynamic between Phillips and the lead captor (a worthy Barkhad Abdi). These scenes are among the most engrossing of Billy Ray’s inconsistent script, and it’s a shame the rest of the film could not be as resonant. Instead of a gradual escalation of tension, the film is a start-and-stop wannabe action-thriller that neglects several opportunities for blistering drama. Also a shame is that Tom Hanks’ performance is so reliably remarkable (his last moments onscreen are truly effective and heartbreaking) that it’s disheartening that Greengrass’ direction lets him down. Captain Phillips doesn’t trust its audience to appreciate authentic and tense danger through intense characterizations of vulnerability and fear, so it panders with clichéd and mundane action sequences instead. Hanks can do no wrong, but the film seriously veers adrift. C
Tom Hanks and Halle Berry venture into the end of human existence in just one of several sporadic tales.
Cloud Atlas –Pulling off an intense ensemble piece is a rarity in Hollywood. Filmmakers like Robert Altman and Paul Thomas Anderson give the genre a nice balance, crafting deep characters, plenty of drama, and a nice dash of wit in respective films like Nashville and Magnolia. These films usually follow a collective yet disparate group of people in one geographic setting as they face similar situations and obstacles. Now, imagine this type of film executed not in a single setting but in multiple continents throughout six different time periods. Ambitious? Yes. Crazy? Perhaps. Successful? That’s a grey area.
The Wachowski siblings and German director Tom Tykwer have adapted David Mitchell’s 2004 ensemble epic Cloud Atlas and the result is chaotic, clumsy, yet still somewhat rewarding. Spanning over six distinct stories, the film features a large cast that includes Tom Hanks, Halle Berry, Jim Broadbent, and, very much against type, Hugh Grant. The first story takes place on an 1800’s expedition where an ill voyager encounters a malicious doctor (Hanks) and a sympathetic stowaway; the second is in 1930’s Scotland where a gifted apprentice (Ben Whishaw) works under an ailing but manipulative composer (Broadbent); the third follows an investigative journalist (Berry) as she attempts to blow the whistle off of an energy scandal involving a greedy tycoon (Grant); the fourth is set in 2012 London where a publisher (Broadbent) is mistakenly put into a nursing home and comically tries to escape; the fifth takes place in a future version of Seoul where an android (Doona Bae) takes part in an uprising with a rebel (Jim Sturgess); the sixth, and final, depicts the end of time through the eyes of a villager (Hanks) who helps a mysterious outsider (Berry) fight for the future of the human race. Oh, and the film takes about three hours to go back and forth between each plotline before its connective, climactic finale.
For all the different stories and characters, the aim of the film is surprisingly clear: to cinematize the idea of souls not being privatized and locked into one existence, but transcending people, places, and time. And not only are souls crossing these boundaries, but so are acts of compassion, evil, freedom, imprisonment, and, most of all, love. The book laid out each story line in an elliptical fashion and told them both chronologically and then in reverse order. The film, however, uses frantic but effective editing to crosscut between each story, changing courses with each significant thematic beat. Also underscoring the idea of connectivity is the casting—each actor is tasked with performing several roles (Hanks is both the film’s first villain and central hero, while Hugo Weaving and Grant embody transcending antagonism). Cloud Atlas is important and entertaining enough because of its grand attempt at pushing the boundaries of cinema with these disparate (but thematically linked) stories, casting gimmicks, and technical innovation. Though despite this appreciated ambition, it sadly does not pull it off. There’s an uneven quality to the succession of stories, for some are more deft and resonant than others. The 1970s, 2012, and future Seoul segments are among the film’s most enthralling and moving—the Wachowski’s and Tywker pay fun homage to these genres, and develop solid arcs and memorable characters. Berry’s Luisa Rey is the film’s most likable and believable protagonist, while the uprising plot of the Seoul story is stimulating and even a bit heartbreaking. The other three segments, involving the sea expedition, composers, and future of human existence are underwhelming. The first two are intriguing but thin, a bit banal, and in need of more screen time and execution to garner care. The latter story suffers just as it did in the novel—it’s too distant and incoherent with limited backstory. The imagination is all there (the sweeping shots of Hanks and Berry climbing and discovering vestiges and ruins are stunning), yet the heart is missing.
This is not to say that this film is disconnected. The editing seamlessly and impressively links the stories together through certain character motives, ideas, and emotions, despite the strength of certain bits over others. Each actor also gives it their all—Hanks, Berry, Grant, and Broadbent slip into their multiple roles with a chameleon-like commitment—even though the attempt at multi-casting is self-reflective to the extent of becoming a repetitive gimmick at times. Yet with all the effort and risk involved, it’s easy to see that Cloud Atlas is just as genuine as it is flawed. Sprawling, chaotic, but still involving and even wrenching, the Wachowski’s and Tykwer’s adaptation is something to behold for its sheer ode to cinema and its capabilities. B
Gary Oldman infuses a raw, melancholic, and effective spirit into the role of George Smiley.
Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy–Director Tomas Alfredson gained a lot of admiration and cinema-cred (yup, it’s a new one) for his daring, subtle love story and vampire flick, Let the Right One In. And with his newest film, he proves he’s not a one-trick pony as he skillfully adapts and finds an uncommon thematic and emotional thread in John Le Carre’s spy novel. Gary Oldman leads a stellar ensemble as retired MI6 agent who is forced back into the field when it is suspected that there is a mole in the British Intelligence agency, and specifically in his particular group of acquaintances. As simple as the story sounds, the film takes several twists and turns that test any audience member’s attention skills as well as toleration of plot contrivance. And though it somewhat manipulates the viewer’s focus in this sense (we spend too much time trying to piece certain elements together rather than being immersed or hooked into the story), Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy is still a competent and intriguing film. Alfredson’s direction is steady despite the script’s misguidedness, while the cinematography and editing are supreme–the film looks beautiful yet understated, matching the intrinsic and gloomy tone. The cast is uniformly excellent, as well. Oldman plays Smiley (the retired lead) with such a controlled restraint that it’s exhilarating to watch him walk the line between passivity and integrity. He nails the conveyance of the character’s ambiguous notions and morality. Supporting him are John Hurt, Colin Firth, Mark Strong, and Tom Hardy in finely tuned performances as other constituents of the national conspiracy. Yet it’s Benedict Cumberbatch who comes off as the real stand out as a personal and professional aid to Smiley in the case, exuding a sense of stern loyalty and hidden vulnerability that introduces the theme that the film so well thematizes. Though Alfredson can’t keep the plot points straight, it’s the heartbreaking corrosiveness by the system and how detrimental it is to man and his humanity that Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy cinematizes with the ultimate skill. The final sequence, in particular, haunts with its echoes of this theme (and the tune of the classic song, “La Mer”). And, that, is the terrific redemption found in Alfredson’s adaptation. Unnervingly confusing it may be, but this spy thriller really triumphs as a study of the fractured souls of men under the worst pressures of cynicism, deception, and internal confinement. B+
Here’s the trailer:
Sandra Bullock and Thomas Horn star in Stephen Daldry's adaptation of the beloved book.
Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close–Stephen Daldry has three impressive films (and Best Director Oscar nominations to go along with them) under his belt that all deal with themes of adolescence, confinement, and the desire to better one’s current situation. Thus, it’s no question as to why he both was sought after and is involved with the adaptation of Jonathan Safran Foer’s Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close, which follows a young boy’s search for a lock that matches the key his father left behind before he was killed in the 9/11 attacks. Newcomer Thomas Horn stars as Oskar Schell, the protagonist who enlists the help of several strangers to find the miraculous match in the five distinct boroughs of New York City in the hectic, uncertain post-9/11 world. I knew I would have hesitations about the film and, yes, there are certain issues I will address, but one is (surprisingly) clear: the film treats the events of September 11th with the utmost sincerity. It’s not used as a cheap manipulation device or plot instigator at all; if anything, it’s a suitable and timely backdrop for a story about grief and what comes after. That said, the film’s issues lie more in the realm of storytelling. Daldy tries a bit too hard to match the film’s pace with his complete characterization of Oskar, a precocious, confused, and honest child (who hints that he has Asperger’s syndrome); while the editing is impressive, this adds a jumpiness to the narrative that is disorienting and distancing. While this mainly lasts for the first third of the film, it would have benefitted from having a more conventional introduction so that the audience can be acquainted with Oskar and his situation much more naturally and effectively. I’m not saying that the film suffers from originality, for it nails the character’s distinct traits and mentality (aided by a wonderful performance by Horn), it just would have added an ounce of more coherency which could have made a much more emotional impact. Other than the direction, the score is beautiful and haunting at some times but is mostly overbearing and trite–it’s presence is unwelcoming as it conditions some well-written scenes into more didactic territory. That all said, I was pleased with the care placed in the film. Despite these flaws, there’s an intriguing and moving story in the center that takes a successful charge for most of the latter part (with special thanks to Eric Roth’s brilliant script). Tom Hanks (as Oskar’s father), Viola Davis, and Jeffrey Wright all give brief but effective turns in the film, but the performances by Horn, Sandra Bullock, and Max Von Sydow are worth really mentioning. Horn is excellent and poignant as Oskar, while Bullock solidly breathes authenticity and humanity in her grief-ridden role. Sydow, as a silent character, has such emotion in his face without ever uttering a word that it’s easy to keep your eyes just on him in all his scenes. Immediately after watching the film, I was certainly moved but left with a conflicting feeling that (over the past few days) has seemed to favor the strengths of Daldry’s work. But I’m mostly thankful that Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close is, flaws aside, a mature study of grief and catharsis without every employing the 9/11 tragedies in a manipulative way. B
Here’s the trailer:
Meryl Streep tackles another real-life figure in this biopic of the longest-serving English Prime Minister.
The Iron Lady–“Leave it to Meryl Streep to deliver an impeccable performance in an imperfect film.” is probably a sentence a lot of filmgoers are uttering about the Oscar winner’s newest film, but I think ‘imperfect’ would be doing it a disservice. I was quite surprised that this is actually a poignant, inventive look into the life of Margaret Thatcher, despite the liberties it takes. Streep stars as the titular Thatcher, playing the first female (and longest-serving) Prime Minister during her political career of handling the IRA bombings, Falkland Island crisis, and the end of the Cold War, while also portraying her in her contemporary life as reflective yet dementia-ridden. Technically, the film is gorgeous and distinctive. The cinematography is bold, with excellent hand-held shots and unusual framing to enhance the surrounding of the familiar subject, while the editing is terrific as it expertly ties together her fading memories with real-life footage. Director Phyllida Lloyd, who previously worked with Streep on the overrated and (for me) unbearable Mamma Mia!, strikes up a much better partnership with the actress in this decisive biopic that never strides away from its slightly-critical-yet-still-warm tone. The main problem is with Abi Morgan’s script. It’s highly inventive and original, which is refreshing, but it does tend to invite a few moments of doubt. For instance, scenes involving the older Thatcher seeing her dead husband (the always reliable Jim Broadbent) are quite imaginative yet can verge on preposterous. Other scenes with her in office are powerful and revealing, but mostly based on speculative theories. It’s the same issue that dents any biopic–scenes can crackle with intensity and emotion (and many do in The Iron Lady), but one can’t help but question the authenticity and honesty behind such exchanges. Does Thatcher really see her husband that way? Did she really act like that in one of her final consensus meetings? If you can let go of the doubt and leave your cynicism at the theater door, there’s much to enjoy. I especially appreciated the unbiased depiction of Thatcher; it seems her politics were expelled from this certain study in favor for a much more human examination–it made the film less distracting, and more thrilling. But, obviously, the best element of Lloyd’s film is the commanding, dynamic, and controlled lead performance by Streep. Come on, you don’t even need to ask. She makes this public figure compelling, shocking, and even relatable with just one look. She’s fantastic and, yes, she deserves the attention she’s receiving, for it’s definitely her best performance since her turn in Adaptation. If you can suspend your disbelief, you’ll find a lot to be intrigued and moved by in The Iron Lady. B+
Cinemaniac 