MEETING MOLLY RINGWALD: A SAVAGE CINEMA EXCLUSIVE

It was a meeting I never, ever thought would actually happen. And through some moments of discouragement, it almost didn't. But, it did and it was even more than what I hoped it could have been. Dear readers, I am so excited to announce to you that on Sunday, November 21st of this year, I officially had the unprecedented pleasure of meeting Molly Ringwald!!!

Molly Ringwald, the actress who starred in three of Writer/Producer/Director John Hughes' most iconic films (1984's "Sixteen Candles," 1985's "The Breakfast Club" and 1986's "Pretty In Pink"), not only continues to act on screen and stage. The 42 year old is currently a wife, mother of three and now an author. Written during her pregnancy with twins, her debut release, Getting The Pretty Back, is a hybrid of a memoir and self-help book, designed for women to understand that "prettiness" is not entirely based in one's appearance. It is ultimately a state of mind and being, providing the confidence to realize one's dreams and live their lives to their fullest potential.

What brought Molly Ringwald to Madison, WI was the annual Women's Expo, held at the Exhibition Center of the Alliant Energy Center (formerly the Dane County Coliseum--where I saw Sting in concert back in 1987). She was scheduled to be a Guest Speaker and would also sign autographs of her book as well as copies of her photo adorned cover of Brava magazine, a local publication and sponsor of the Expo. I was informed of her participation in this event by the Director of my preschool nearly two months ago and once I had heard this news, I knew that I had to attend and see her live and in person!

I have spilled many, many words on Savage Cinema extolling my love for the films and career of John Hughes and in so many ways, Molly Ringwald is synonymous with that career. Yes, out of Hughes' massive output, she only starred in three of his films yet, she was as representative of that time of my life as much as Hughes was. While I never had a crush on her as a teenager, I adored Molly Ringwald. She represented a certain sense of strength, integrity, class, intelligence and style that I admired and responded to so tremendously. No one else looked like her or sounded like her. There was, and remains, absolutely no one else like her and her uniqueness appealed to me. Since I had never met John Hughes, and especially after his death last year, it was imperative for me to try and see her. If I had the opportunity to meet her, I wanted to just tell her how much she meant to me when I was growing up. Considering that she and I are nearly the same age, I would hope that my words, if I were able to speak them, would carry a certain and additional significance.

DAY ONE-NOVEMBER 20, 2010

I arrived at the Women's Expo more than a little excited and definitely curious as to what I would see at such an event. Attending the Women's Expo had never previously existed in my radar of events to frequent and upon first gaze, it looked like any sort of an Expo that I or you may have attended in the past. A variety of organizations all had their individual booths set up and ready for visitors and patrons. There were several locations for food and beverages. Shockingly and hilariously to me, I also witnessed a troop of Chippendale dancers (oil not included but readily available from a booth I'm certain)!

I arrived at the lengthy celebrity stage, which was adorned with an orange chair, a table, lamp and a couch. I immediately found seats in the front row and just as immediately decided against sitting there--thinking that I shouldn't get too close to an idol. So, I poked around for a few moments and came to my senses. I came to see her, so get in that front row and SEE her!! I found my seat on the left side of the stage and settled myself and began to wait.

Around 1:15 p.m., after nearly all of the seats had been filled with fans, statuesque local news anchor Diana Henry strode onto the stage to make some announcements and eventually introduce the person everyone was there to see. Within a few more moments, the time had arrived...

To the strains of a cover version of the classic "Don't You Forget About Me" by Simple Minds, out walked Molly Ringwald and she literally took my breath away. It was as if she walked straight out of the movie screen and onto the stage. Her face exploded into a wide smile as she looked out into the audience. "WOW!! I can't believe that there's SO MANY PEOPLE!! THANK YOU!!" she said in that voice, a voice I could not believe that I was hearing in the real world.

After informing everyone that the following was to be her very first speech, as she finds much comfort in having a prepared script to work from, Molly Ringwald launched into a 60 minute travelogue through her book, aspects of her history and current family life, and life lessons she has obtained over the years. All the while, she presented herself as a down-to-Earth human being who just happened to be famous. She was lovely, funny, articulate, charming and even inspiring. Inspiring us to hold onto those people who matter most no matter how much life gets in our respective ways. To own all of our shortcomings and make then work for us. To just keep ourselves open to new ideas and possibilities. As a parting note, she gave us a preview of...her debut album of recorded material (something she may self-release). Everyone was treated to the recorded singing voice of Ms. Ringwald backed by a small jazz combo and what I heard was striking. This did not sound like some talentless movie star vanity project. The maturity and almost sensual richness I heard was unexpected and made me curious to hear more.

A brief Q & A session followed and then, it was time to gather in line for the autograph signing session. During the speech, the line had already began to form and by the time I found my place, I was near the opposite end of the Exhibition Hall. While waiting in line for about an hour, I spoke with others who were as anxious as I to meet Molly and I also endured the excruciating musical stylings of Piano Fondue, a duo piano act (and "Saturday Night Live" skit waiting to happen) who callously murdered songs by Neil Diamond and The Monkees. Throughout the wait, all patrons were informed that she would be signing copies of her book, and the issue of Brava magazine. No memorabilia would be signed and no posed photographs could be taken (although photos beside the signing area were acceptable). But then, there was the news that caused everyone minor panic and an accompanying sense of urgency: Molly would be signing for about an hour as she has another commitment. She would return for a second signing the following day at 11:00 a.m. As I crept closer, I hoped that I would not miss my opportunity but with the length of the line, I wasn't feeling that positive.

After a time, I found myself inside of something I would like to call the "inner sanctum," the area closest to Molly Ringwald's signing area. I inched closer and closer, ever so slowly and soon, I was paces away from the entrance with only a collective of three women ahead of me. And then, it happened...

"I'm sorry everybody," began a woman supervising the event. "Molly has to leave."

The woman again announced that Molly would return the following day but it didn't matter at that moment. She was just...so close! So near and yet so far. She was a stone's throw away from me and yet, an ocean between us remained.

I felt like Charlie Brown.

I felt dejected, disappointed, disillusioned and every other downer word that began with the letter "D." Of course, it would not have been out of the question to return the following day and try again as the Exhibition Hall is not terribly far from my home and the parking and admission fees were small. But, I do have this way of convincing myself of the worst. Maybe it just wasn't meant to happen. Maybe the universe doesn't want this for me. I saw her, straight from the front row, she was wonderful and perhaps, that just had to be enough.

Later that evening, I firmly decided that against my most negative impulses, I should try again. Just get there when they open, secure my place in line and all should be well.

Shouldn't it?

DAY TWO-NOVEMBER 21, 2010

I was determined.

I arrived at the Expo shortly after they opened at 10:00 a.m. and immediately ventured over to the exact area I stood the day before. I was not about to let my level of disappointment bog me down. After speaking with one of the gentlemen supervising the event, he directed me to the waiting area, deep within the "inner sanctum" and I found myself second in line, directly behind a Mother and daughter.

The girl's name was Maggie, and she hailed from Waunakee. Her sweet, bespectacled face could barely contain her own nervousness and excitement, which was also visibly by the bounciness of the wavy ringlets of her hair. She informed me that she was 16 years old and that she had seen and loved all three of the Ringwald/Hughes collaborations and that she had no idea of what to say to Molly. Maggie was truly a charming girl as I recognized the exact same emotions within myself. So I shared them with her and told her the story of how I had first seen "Pretty In Pink" at an advance screening when I was 17. I spoke of how that night was a wave of emotion inside of that Chicago movie theater. how dialogue could barely be heard due to the laughing at Duckie's antics and swooning at every sight of Blaine. How sobbing was heard during the more aching sections and the eruption of joy during the final moments at the prom. Maggie's Mother echoed my sentiments as she had seen the film during her own teen years.

We were soon joined by another visibly excited fan who had missed out on his chance from the day before. Also bespectacled, with closely cropped hair and clutching a copy of Ringwald's book was Tom, another film enthusiast and John Hughes fan who was able to ask Molly Ringwald a question during the Q & A section of her speech from the day before. We all shared conversations about movies, Maggie enthusiastically shared her feelings about her Sophomore year of high school and finally, the time had arrived once again.

Surrounded by a tiny entourage, which included her husband, Molly Ringwald appeared again and took her place at the signing table from the day before. Just before Maggie from Waunakee entered the signing area, I told her to have fun and she generously offered to take a picture of me as I was getting my magazine signed. Before I knew it, Maggie from Waunakee and her Mother had met Molly Ringwald and had exited the area.

Oh God! It was my turn! I took a tentative step and entered the area, approached the table and met her expectant gaze. "HI!!!! WOW!!" I exclaimed once I arrived at the table. "I've got 25 years worth of things to say and I'm still trying to figure out how to start," I said, while waving my hands a little. Molly Ringwald looked at me expectantly, yet said nothing. Her eyes possessed an expression so familiar to me through her movies yet I was unable to truly define their meaning. Perhaps she was just waiting for me to begin. But, of course, I feared that perhaps she was about to call for Security. I had to rebound quickly.

I clumsily handed her the Brava magazine. Maybe even rudely, although inadvertently, as I never even officially asked her to sign it. After such an understandably awkward exchange, I met her gaze again and started to speak. "I just want to give you a big THANK YOU!!!"

Molly's face softened and she smiled graciously. "What's your name?" she asked with Sharpie in hand.

"Scott," I responded and then, somehow, I found the words. "Thank you for coming here! Thank you so, so much for those wonderful movies," I began as I felt the words continuing to form and beginning to flow. "I was 15 when 'Sixteen Candles' was released and I could not have asked for anything better than that movie."

"Oh, thank you!" she said.

"I still think that 'Sixteen Candles" is one of the most romantic movies that I have ever seen...and I see a lot of movies. I admired you so very much. I looked up to you. John Hughes was my hero. And I drove my parents crazy."

"That's so sweet of you to say," she said smiling. As she finished signing my magazine and began to hand it back to me, Molly did the unexpected when she looked at me and said, "May I ask you a question?"

WHAT?! Did I hear that correctly?

"You want to ask me a question??" I asked out loud. "Uh... y-y-yeah! Of-of course!" I stammered.

"I was wondering if it bothered you that African-Americans weren't more represented in the movies?"

Talk about unexpected. If she were to ask me anything, I would have imagined it to be something a tad more innocuous. I certainly wasn't expecting a question so thoughtful, so serious and something that was representative of my identity. I didn't want to disappoint and I found myself with a strengthened composure...even as I was starstruck.

"Do you just mean Hughes' movies or do you mean all of the movies in the teen genre?" I asked in return.

"Well, it's a problem in all movies but I really meant just John's because actually, I always had a problem with that," she said.

What a moment. It felt as if we were having a regular conversation. It didn't seem like the starlet was coming down from on high to converse with her adoring fans down below. It almost felt as if she let some of the air out of the balloon and asked an honest question for no other reason than to address her own curiosity and to just as honestly listen to whatever I had to answer.

Before I could begin, I felt a soft tap on my shoulder. I looked and saw that the owner of the tap was one of the gentlemen supervising the autograph session and trying to keep the line moving as quickly as possible. "Remember, it's a long line," he said to me with finality but without forcefulness or urgency.

And then, Molly Ringwald did something else unexpected and as I think about this one moment, it was an act that was indeed a very kind one. "Oh, it's my fault," she explained. "I asked him a question."

The gentleman nodded affirmatively and walked away as if to say, "Carry on." And carry on I did as I launched into an answer that I hoped would satisfy her inquiry.

"Well...it didn't bother me," I began. "It really didn't. I felt that Hughes was representing a certain sector of society. Being from Chicago and knowing what the Northern suburbs are like, I felt that his representation was accurate. What spoke to me were his characters. They were so universal and that's what made them so relatable to me. I was Samantha Baker. I was Eric Stoltz' character from 'Some Kind Of Wonderful.' I did have a few friends back then who told me that I reminded them of Ferris but I was really Cameron Frye through and through. Those characters made those movies for me. That's what made them so special and that's why I was never offended."

Seeming satisfied by my answer, she smiled again and nodded. It was time for me to move on and allow the next person to have their moment with Molly Ringwald.

"It was so nice to meet you!!" she said, offering me another one of her instantly recognizable smiles that are cemented in film history. I reciprocated the gesture, told her again how amazing it was to finally meet her and I walked away.

I retrieved my camera from Maggie of Waunakee, thanked her and she grabbed her Mother's camera to re-approach the area to snap some more shots. I looked at the photos Maggie took and was very pleased with the results. No badly framed photos depicting nothing a la "Sixteen Candles." There I was, there was Molly Ringwald, I really met her, those moments really happened...and I had visual proof!!

Mere words cannot express how I feel as she has been a part of my life for so much of my life and I still cannot believe that I actually had the chance to tell her exactly what an impact she had upon me. I realize that these are words that she has undoubtedly heard more times than I can possibly imagine. I realize that I was just one face out of a sea of faces she saw over the last two days and moreso, over the last 25 years of her life. But, I sincerely hope that the familiarity of those words has not dulled their impact and weight. They were as heartfelt as I could say them, especially during a moment as surreal as that one. I greatly doubt that she will even remember me even though I will never forget this moment for the remainder of my life.

But that's OK because within those moments, she treated me with respect, as kindly as she was able and even gave me more than I could have ever expected or hoped for.

What else could I ask for?

I met MOLLY RINGWALD!!!

HEAR MY TRAIN A COMIN': a review of "Unstoppable"

"UNSTOPPABLE"
Written by Mark Bomback
Directed by Tony Scott
**1/2 (two and a half stars)

I tend to get quite the kick out of movies that reveal their fullest intentions within the confines of their titles. Entirely within the moniker, you know and understand exactly and completely what the film is about while boldly announcing and promising what it will deliver. The first film that comes to mind is Director Renny Harlin’s “Cliffhanger” (1993), the Sylvester Stallone icy mountain action movie. Just last year, I believe there was even a low budget B-level feature entitled “Fighting” featuring Channing Tatum and Terrence Howard and there is even an upcoming action film with Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson emphatically titled, “Faster.” Of course, there is no way that I could possibly forget two terrific entries in this sub-genre, “Speed” (1994) and “Twister” (1996), both directed by Jan de Bont. Through all of those titles alone, audiences knew right up front that they were going to experience a high octane, edge of your seat, white knuckle motion picture and more often than not, those films succeeded. Throwing his Directorial hat into the ring is filmmaker Tony Scott, who arrives with “Unstoppable,” a serviceably taut, muscular thrill ride that certainly makes good upon the promises of its title but somehow, it just doesn’t stick to the ribs, making the entire proceedings fairly lackluster. Frankly dear readers, this film is unstoppably speeding its way straight out of my memory…so, I’d better write this quickly.

The plot of “Unstoppable” is the definition of “bare-boned.” Frank Barnes (Denzel Washington), is a train engineer and 28 year veteran of the Pennsylvania railroad industry. On this most fateful of days, Barnes is joined by rookie conductor Will Colson (Chris Pine). As their day progresses, the two men, along with railroad yardmaster Connie Hooper (Rosario Dawson) via phone line, become the main participants in stopping a runaway train carrying several cars of hazardous, toxic material which is speeding towards the heart of the highly populated Stanton, Pennsylvania. Will Barnes and Colson halt the train before it vaporizes the city to kingdom come and will both men survive this terrifying adventure?

That is the plot in less than a nutshell and for a movie such as “Unstoppable,” that’s all you really need. Scott produces the goods by keeping his film lean, mean, and briskly paced while exhausting every opportunity to place this train into one potentially cataclysmic situation after another. Scott produces the goods by keeping his film lean, mean, and briskly paced while exhausting every opportunity to place this train into one potentially cataclysmic situation after another. The action sequences of “Unstoppable” has its roots firmly placed in some of history’s earliest cinematic images, like the damsel in distress tied to the tracks as the speeding train approaches, as well as some of the more comedic visual athletics presented by Buster Keaton. Scott also crafts a decent and slightly procedural thriller along the lines of Director Ron Howard’s “Apollo 13” (1995). “Unstoppable” is a film that celebrates the potential of societal goodness when people band together towards a common goal, a quality that gives the film’s title an additional layer as the film’s heroes are as resilient as that relentless train.

Other than the petulantly lazy railroad employee Dewey (Ethan Suplee), who causes this entire disastrous mess by not connecting the air hose to the train, thus making the air brakes completely ineffective, the only real villains in “Unstoppable” are the white-collar elite as represented by Oscar Galvin (Kevin Dunn), the railroad VP and some generic members of the blue blooded, heartless, golf-playing constituency. Their sole function is to cruelly stand in the way of Barnes, Colton, and Hooper’s valiant efforts as they bemoan potential financial losses instead of the devastating human cost if the train is unable to be stopped. It is an element that is simultaneously heavy handed, clumsily presented and yet it is a bit clever. Through coincidence or fate, “Unstoppable” arrives now in theaters after the nation has had a front row seat to the environmental disaster of BP oil crisis and the disgustingly classic moment when BP C.E.O. Tony Hayward misguidedly expressed that he just wanted to get his life back. In its own way, “Unstoppable” is the ultimate blue collar action film, a wish fulfillment fantasy where the working class heroes are able to grab the unstoppable forces keeping them subjugated by its tail and wrestle it to the ground through dogged ingenuity and a sheer force of unshakable will.

Armed with his own filmmaking sense of dogged ingenuity and sheer force of will, Tony Scott is truly one of the few filmmakers working today that could possibly have orchestrated a film like this so convincingly. That said, I do have to say that I have not always been the biggest Tony Scott fan. For me, his films do tend to be emotionally empty hearted, and a little dumb. Also, I tend to appreciate and enjoy some of his brother Ridley Scott’s more ambitious features greater (1979’s “Alien,” 1982’s “Blade Runner,” and 1991’s “Thelma & Louise” for instance).

With the exception of particularly strong features like "True Romance” (1993), "Crimson Tide" (1995), "Enemy Of The State" (1998) and the brutal "Man On Fire" (2004), Tony Scott is primarily a craftsman, an exceptional craftsman, who gives all of his films a high polish sheen and undeniable professionalism. Think of his films from the 1980s like "Top Gun” (1986) and “Beverly Hills Cop 2” (1987). His movies practically shimmer from the screen. In recent years, he has carved out a visual style that falls somewhere within the hyperkinetic imagery of some of Oliver Stone’s most hallucinogenic and troubling works (1993’s “JFK” and 1994’s “Natural Born Killers”) and the impersonal, crass bombast of Michael Bay’s films (1995’s “Armageddon”). Scott has fallen into the type of ADD styled of filmmaking I cannot stand or stomach. Films where there can never be enough edits or swooping cameras and the soundtrack cannot be loud enough. Sometimes it works to its advantage like in “Man On Fire” yet most of the time, it is lackluster as seen in his so-so remake of "The Taking of Pelham 1 2 3” (2009) and most horrifically, the unwatchable “Domino” (2005).

For "Unstoppable," Scott has thankfully tempered his worst cinematic habits and ultimately found a certain middle ground between Stone and Bay. Where Stone is an artist and Bay is an unabashed and unapologetic Master of Ceremonies of endless, heartless oblivion, Scott is a storyteller. For better, worse or indifferent, Scott always sticks to the story and additionally, his films are typically constructed beautifully. Unfortunately for all of the razzle dazzle on display in his oeuvre, I never much cared about anything that really occurred in Scott's films and sadly, that same emotion crept up during my viewing of "Unstoppable." it barrels along full speed ahead but I was never invested in it. In fact, it seemed to be one of those movies that feels like nothing more than an extended version of the two minute trailer...and the trailer ultimately made for a better movie.

There never seems to be any well-worn cliché Tony Scott is afraid of and “Unstoppable” certainly has more than its share. There's one howler of a moment when Hooper feverishly utters the line that describes the severity of the situation. “This isn’t a train!” she bellows. “This is a missile, in the shape of the Chrysler building!!!” “Unstoppable” is that kind of movie, it makes no apologies for being so and I guess it shouldn’t. But I would have been more enthusiastic if it delivered even more than what I received and to fully explain, I have to take you back to "Speed."

“Unstoppable” is a film that reminds you just how terrific a film "Speed" actually was. Yes, it lived up to its title profusely through it endless action set pieces that utilized every possible scenario they could place that bus into. Plus, Jan de Bont gave us the intense opening bomb scare sequence as well as the climax on a subway train to boot. But, it was the the personalities of Keanu Reeves, Sandra Bullock, Jeff Daniels and the late Dennis Hopper that anchored the entire proceedings and gave it a certain authenticity, making for a film that was ferociously paced, happily exhausting to sit through and undeniably memorable. You not only experienced the film as an amusement par ride, you cared about what happened to these people.

With “Unstoppable,” not so much. Denzel Washington and Chris Pine, show much comfort and easy rapport with each other and each actor is allowed to play to their strengths. Unfortunately, neither of them are given that much to actually do and it actually didn't even seem be necessary that these two actors had to play these particular roles. Anyone could have played these parts in this way.

Washington, now marking his fifth collaboration with Scott, remains heroically steadfast while possessing one of the greatest smiles in the history of the movies. Pine, the emotional hothead, simmers, stews and broods appropriately, just itching for the moment to blaze into action. That's all fine and dandy but neither of them make that much of a lasting impression as both of their characters are paper thin at best. You don’t much care about either of them or their troubles (Frank Barnes is the latest casualty of company layoffs and while Will Colson is estranged from his wife, who has even issued a restraining order against him). Only Rosario Dawson, Ethan Suplee, Kevin Corrigan (who portrays a railroad inspector) and Lew Temple (who portrays Ned, a railroad welder) seem to be able to break out of their respective role confines and offer slightly deeper personalities than were written or even allowed to show.

Does this hurt the movie as a whole? Well…yes and no. But, then again the movie is called “Unstoppable” and it is not designed to be a character driven chamber piece. Its not a bad film in the least. Just not a terribly significant one. For all of its sound and blistering fury, it signified very little once it ended and I left the theater.

“Unstoppable” certainly had more than enough power and juice but it needed several more containers of boiling blood to make this film a real pulse pounder.

CONNECTIONS AT THE DARK HORIZON: a review of "Hereafter"

"HEREAFTER"

Written by Peter Morgan

Produced and Directed by Clint Eastwood

***1/2 (three and a half stars)

Mortality is a topic that disturbs me to my core. Certainly, over the years, especially when I was younger, if thoughts of death, dying and the potential of anything at all laying in wait for me beyond the sky, stars and consciousness itself, I could very easily wipe the thoughts away as if erasing chalk from a board. Since reaching the age of 40 almost two years ago, those thoughts have become more prominent and much more difficult to push to the furthest corners of my brain as the elasticity of time has grown blindingly apparent. I suppose that is the natural course once one reaches middle age but that knowledge does not make life’s inevitability any easier to deal with let alone to maybe build some acceptance towards.

I had especially been looking forward to viewing Director Clint Eastwood’s spiritual drama, “Hereafter,” ever since I had first read that he had picked it as his next project after the superlative “Invictus” (2009). I felt that here is a filmmaker that may really have something to say about the topic of mortality. That this man, in the late stages of his life, certainly would have confronted the issue personally (perhaps that is a reason why he has been so especially prolific over the last several years) and that he had finally found a way to explore it artistically. I am happy to say that Eastwood, once again, did not disappoint and in many ways, this dark, melancholic film with subject matter that often brings on a disturbing pall, even offered a sense of honest comfort within its troubling story and perspective.

“Hereafter” weaves three parallel stories, which ultimately converge, about three individuals who have been equally touched by the hand of death and are now attempting to wrap their heads and souls around their respective experiences. Matt Damon leads an ensemble cast as George Lonegan, a man in his early 40’s who inexplicably has the power to speak with the dead through the physical act of touching the hands of a person close to the deceased. Residing in San Francisco, George is a former professional psychic, who has abruptly exited his lucrative business, much to the chagrin of his older brother Billy (nicely underplayed by Jay Mohr), has now carved out an isolated existence as a construction worker, and lives alone in a tiny apartment.

Complementing George’s internal existential crisis are characters and stories set in France and London. Cecile De France portrays Marie Lelay, a hard-nosed French investigative journalist who miraculously survives a terrifying tsunami in Thailand after drowning, succumbing to death and obtaining a view of the afterlife. Her experience and its after effects become all consuming, as the nature of her life slipping away only to be returned has dulled her journalistic senses to her standard fare of crime and political corruption. Suggested by her superiors to take a leave of absence in order to get herself together, Marie takes the opportunity to utilize her investigative spirit to potentially uncover any similar experiences to her own and moreso, if there is any possibility of a world beyond death itself.

Shifting to London, we are introduced to twin brothers Marcus and Jason (portrayed by Frankie and George McLaren), who are desperately trying to evade Social Services and remain in the care of their alcoholic Mother (Lyndsey Marshal). The boys face their own tragedy and exposure to death as the outgoing Jason is killed after being hit by a car, leaving the more reticent Marcus to navigate the world on his own.

Dear readers, if any of you have mulled over seeing this movie, let me please give you a bit of a disclaimer. “Hereafter” is not, by any means, a visceral supernatural thriller. No matter how much the advertisements may be attempting to sell this movie in order to get you into the theater hopefully for an experience akin to “Paranormal Activity 3,” Clint Eastwood has decidedly not delivered that kind of a motion picture experience and I am so thankful that he didn’t. Eastwood has so much more on his mind than providing shrieks from the great beyond. As with several other films I’ve seen since late summer, including Aaron Schneider's “Get Low,” Woody Allen’s “You Will Meet A Tall Dark Stranger” and Mark Romanek’s haunting “Never Let Me Go,” “Hereafter” is a meandering meditation on death and what potentially occurs afterwards but also, this film is primarily a profoundly searching film about our primal need for human connection.

Like Paul Thomas Anderson's "Boogie Nights" (1997) and "Magnolia" (1999), Paul Haggis' "Crash" (2004), or any number of films from the late, great Robert Altman, “Hereafter” contains a complex multi-character study as well as a narrative that depends upon and builds from its three disparate storylines. Yet, it is not nearly as propulsive as any of those films. Eastwood and screenwriter Peter Morgan (who wrote the excellent films, 2006's “The Queen" and 2008's “Frost/Nixon”) have produced intertwined stories that flow into each other as naturally as water running into a stream. Eastwood never, for an instant, forces the narrative or drama making for an elegant and eloquent experience that I felt was mostly designed to engage and provide solace to viewers. It will burrow under your skin but it is not meant to disturb.

To use a musical analogy, most specifically jazz music as Eastwood is long recognized as a major aficionado of the genre, “Hereafter” is almost the cinematic equivalent of classic jazz albums like Miles Davis’ “Kind of Blue” or sections of John Coltrane’s “Blue Train” and “A Love Supreme.” Visually speaking, Eastwood continues to house his film in a color palette that consists of moody shadows and smoky grays. Also, Eastwood’s brief images of the afterlife are considerably more non-descript than the darkly hallucinogenic dreamscapes of Peter Jackson’s “The Lovely Bones” (2009). Yet aside from the visual aesthetics, the comparisons between the film to jazz music, in my mind, mostly form from more internal elements of the musical genre. Musical themes arrive, float around each other, sometimes soothingly, sometimes violently, and then they dissipate, mutate and divide only to be reconnected once again. Eastwood utilizes this technique to an exquisite degree in “Hereafter” as his thematic elements rise, fall, meet, depart and rejoin in the same way.

The film’s primary theme explores the tenuous nature of obtaining and maintaining the connections we all hope to find with each other. The fragility of those connections are palpable, especially during an extended sequence set during an evening cooking class George attends and soon shares with the lovely Melanie (played by Bryce Dallas Howard). The two obviously find an attraction to each other and during a palette testing activity, where each take turns being blindfolded while tasting all manner of culinary delights, the sequence deftly transforms into a dance of seduction. Yet, at the moment, where it seems these two may move closer together, it is immediately tested through the combined issues of George’s past history as a psychic, the power of what he is able to uncover about Melanie, as well as the consequences of Melanie’s own gentle prodding and curiosity. Eastwood asks of us how much do we really want to know about another person? How much are we willing to accept? How long are we willing to live in the illusions we create about the ones we are attracted to? So much is said with so very little and the gracefully tentative performances of Damon and Howard in those scenes speak to the film as a whole.

Further still is our need for a connection to the world at large. As George and young Marcus float sadly though life almost as living ghosts, they are slightly contrasted by the proactive spirit Marie. Also desperately attempting to find her place in her newly altered world, I especially loved the scenes where she views her on-air substitute with trepidation. Eastwood makes fine usage of a giant billboard advertising Marie Levay and her television program as well as the moment when she discovers her image has been taken away from the billboard and replaced with the visage of the new journalist. It is yet another death for Marie to face in her world as her career has defined her sense of reality. Once that virtual reality fades in the eyes of the general public, the pain of insignificance and erasure settles in with seemingly no tether to restrain her to anyone, anything or the world at large.

All of those described aspects lead me to a continuous image Eastwood delivers so effortlessly and subtly that its power did not reveal itself until the film’s final frames: the power of holding hands. The chemical and emotional sensation that occurs when one hand embraces another is greatly understated and Eastwood takes something so seemingly innocuous and insignificant and transforms it into a beautifully poetic image. Yes, we do occasionally see George take the hands of another to read into their lives and communicate with departed loved ones. Beyond existing as a plot point and character trait, it felt to me to be a symbol of our collective humanity. What is that feeling we receive when we grasp the hands of someone whether child to child, adult to child, lover to lover, or friend to friend? What is that comfort we feel and why does it occur? In the world of “Hereafter,” it felt as if the holding of hands is the physical act that makes emotions concrete. It is a figurative and literal tether attaching one person to another and all of us to our individual places in the world. A tether George, Marie and Marcus are painfully seeking to find for themselves and Eastwood delivers all of this to us with the confidence to let scenes breathe, play out and onwards like the finest of Miles Davis's trumpet solos.

All of the performances are delicately empathetic all serving a collective of characters yearning for spiritual peacefulness. In a role that often suggested to me the potential adult life of Haley Joel Osment’s character from “The Sixth Sense” (1999), Matt Damon is the definition of still waters running deeply. As always, Damon is rock solid, never playing a moment falsely or without integrity. He strongly anchors what could have been an otherwise treacly exercise and his sheer presence consistently draws you inwards.

I must give special mention to veteran character actor Richard Kind, who appears in a short early sequence where George contacts his deceased wife and the majority of his dialogue consists only of two words: “Yes” and “No.” Kind’s ability to convey a life’s history with so little dialogue speaks to his immense talent but also to Eastwood’s gift of staying out of the way of his story and actors, thus providing the actors the opportunity to perform richly.

My face burst into a grand smile when I saw character actor Steven R. Schirripa (from "The Sopranos" and "The Secret Life Of The American Teenager") in the role of a chef who teaches the nighttime gourmet cooking course. The warmth and generosity he coveys is voluminous and tremendously welcoming in such a somber film.

As for novice child actors Frankie and George McLaren, I do have to admit that their line readings are more than a little flat. While at times the effect is jarring, somehow it works in spite of their unprofessional nature. The hollowness around their eyes speaks to the soulfulness of a child spiritually lost and isolated from everything familiar to him and indeed they ultimately strike a profound chord.

So, has this film cured my very rational fear of death and dying? No. That said, I will say that over the course of it's running time, "Hereafter" did soothe for a spell as it presented a world where the potential of others walking invisibly with us was possible and the contradictory paths of coincidence and fate could join hands. Clint Eastwood has again delivered a classy piece of work, with a surprising dollop of sentiment, which felt like the ruminations of a man, late in life, perhaps sitting on a porch somewhere pastoral, pondering where he's been, how he has arrived at this particular point and hopefully, where he is headed.

It is a universal journey, while completely individual and for so many, painfully solitary. With "Hereafter," I am very thankful that Eastwood decided to share his thoughts and visions with the world. Hopefully, this gift of a movie will strengthen and increase the very connections that sustain us.

SCENES AND DREAMS FROM THE FAILURE FACTORY: a review of "Waiting For 'Superman'"

"WAITING FOR 'SUPERMAN'"
Written by Billy Kimball and Davis Guggenheim
Directed by Davis Guggenheim
**** (four stars)

I wonder if children really think about the schools they are attending.

I am the product of a private school education. I was born and raised on the southwest side of Chicago. Between the years of 1977-1987, I attended the University Of Chicago Laboratory Schools, a private school located in the heart of the University Of Chicago campus in beautiful Hyde Park. The interesting element of this factor in my upbringing is that both of my parents (now retired) were employed in the Chicago public school system for over 30 years. My Mother was a high school Science teacher and my Father was, in succession, a high school Assistant Principal, an elementary school Principal, the principal of the Whitney Young Magnet School and finally, a stint as a cog in the massive wheel of the public school system.

As a child and as a teenager, it never really occurred to me that it may have been perceived as odd that I was attending a private school while my parents worked in public schools. In my mind at that time, I was just a kid going to school, trying to be a good student, and mainly becoming an average one. I was, at times, feverishly trying to live up to my parents’ unshakably demanding and very high expectations for my academic excellence and ultimately felt stressed when I didn’t do so. Also, and crucially, I was just enormously glad that I was not attending any school in which my parent’s were employed.

It wasn’t until my early 30s when I finally asked my Mother exactly what were the reasons they enrolled me in private school when they both worked in public schools. And to this question was her answer…

“First of all, since we both had to work so much, we needed you to be in a place that offered after school care. In addition, we needed you to be in a place that was safe.” OK. That sounds reasonable. Nothing ground shaking, by any means. But, here is the remainder of her explanation. “Most importantly, we wanted you to have the exposure, opportunities, and level of education that we knew you would not get if you were in the public schools. We wanted you to have the best and the public schools could not give that to you.” Wow!! So, that was the reason I attended the Lab School from third grade through high school. I never once questioned it or ever pondered why that school and that environment played such a crucial role in my formative years, especially as I did not even live in the neighborhood of the college campus.

That explanation really placed everything about my life into a newfound perspective, which I pondered frequently as I watched Director Davis Guggenheim’s “Waiting For ‘Superman’,” the absolutely wrenching new documentary examining the declining state of our nation’s public schools and the ineffective educational system as a whole. Guggenheim, who previously helmed Al Gore’s impassioned environmental plea “An Inconvenient Truth” (2006), brings the same heated fervor to this treatise making for a film experience that reaches beyond essential viewing. “Waiting For ‘Superman’” is required viewing for anyone who cares at all about our nation’s children.

As the film opens, Guggenheim presents the audience with a few moments from his debut documentary “The First Year” (1999), which details a year in the lives of a collective of new teachers. As he explains to the audience in a voiceover, within the ten years that have elapsed between that film and the present, he has since become a parent. Yet what seemed to be most surprising to him was the discovery that the ideals he thought he possessed have changed. When it was time for him to go looking for a school for his children, he eventually decided upon enrolling them in a private school as the public schools in his area were painfully lacking in the educational value he desired for his children. Upon the declaration of that statement, I could not help but to wonder if perhaps my parents would share a certain affinity with Guggenheim.

However, as he firmly acknowledges, Guggenheim, like my own parents, had a choice in regards to the education of their respective children. “Waiting For 'Superman'” focuses on those who do not have that particular choice at their disposal. Dear readers, I am, here to inform you that this film is by no means a dirge like affair. It is not a dry, self-important, and somnambulant talking head documentary. Like Michael Moore’s extraordinary “Capitalism: A Love Story” (2009), Guggenheim presents his film with a strong, propulsive and artistic cinematic hand which gives the film an immediately involving atmosphere that elicits tremendous passion and allows the film to unfold with inherent, blistering drama.

“Waiting For ‘Superman’” takes all of the head spinning statistics of a labyrinthine system and makes them all tangible by inter-weaving the personal stories and missions of five children and their families, mostly from economically damaged communities (one child is from a wealthy suburb), and several educational advocates who champion a better educational world into a deeply resonant tapestry. Guggenheim shows us the daily struggles of these families as they all desire nothing less than the best opportunities for their children and are constantly faced with the seemingly insurmountable obstacles in their paths. From the relationships of neighborhoods to busing and school zones to the fear of having their children placed into historically ineffective schools with exceedingly high drop-out rates dubbed “failure factories,” the simple right of allowing children access to high quality education feels unachievable.

As Guggenheim extends his reach beyond these children and their families to the governing educational system at large, we are witness to a world where education and the rights of all children to obtain the best education possible is inhibited rather than encouraged. To assist with the proper digestion of information, Guggenheim presents his facts and figures methodically, meticulously yet, always easily explained so to as not alienate but rather to fully engage audiences.

We see how Teacher’s Unions can prove to be a hindrance to the system as a whole, as bad teachers are nearly impossible to fire due to tenure. We see snippets of speeches from various Presidents, extolling the virtues of creating and maintaining a high quality educational system being of service to our nation’s children. Yet, over and again, we are shown how that very system and all of its programs, like “No Child Left Behind,” have all continued to fail as it is ultimately a system built to serve the goals and desires of adults and not the needs and virtues of our young. “Childrens do learn,” states former President George W. Bush in one speech snippet. While this brief moment does garner a laugh fueled by jarring disbelief, it is presented less as a leftist-jab but decidedly more as an exclamation point over a system that continues to fall behind in comparison to other countries.

The film’s most excruciating sequences arrive late in the film as we are presented with a lottery system that will arbitrarily determine whether the film’s featured children will or will not be placed into higher quality charter schools (publicly funded schools that operate and function outside of the public schools' rules and regulations), making their collective fates a heartbreakingly cruel luck of the draw.

And yet, at the point when you want to throw up your hands in depressed resignation, Guggenheim showers us with signs of life and hope through those aforementioned advocates, who are nothing less than inspiring. The film’s shining light and highly involving featured interview subject is Geoffrey Canada, president and CEO of the Harlem Children’s Zone in Harlem, New York. Canada may even be familiar to some of you through a television commercial where he explains his vision of following and ensuring that the children of his neighborhood within a 97-block location will indeed graduate from college. Throughout “Waiting For ‘Superman’,” Canada is a compellingly loquacious, informative and entertaining figure who is tirelessly attempting to prove that even (or especially) within poverty-stricken neighborhoods, the greatest education can emerge. He places validity and relevance to a sector of society politicians and our nation’s leaders have long forgotten and proves himself to be exactly what an “advocate” is defined as: “supporter,” “promoter,” “activist,” and “believer.”

Some of the film’s critics may complain or assert that while Guggenheim creates a powerful film, it may be falsely manipulative by possibly placing too large of a halo over the mantle of charter schools. Also, there is his decision to select and focus upon the featured children, all of whom are attractive, articulate, affable children who outwardly present the desire to learn instead of placing the spotlight over “tougher” cases. I am thinking in particular of a lovely little girl named Daisy, a child so determined to become a veterinarian when she grows up that she has already written letters to college university detailing her dreams. Granted, not every child is like Daisy, no matter where they come from. Truth be told, I am still attempting to figure out what I want to be when I grow up. But, regardless of Daisy's persistently clear-eyed vision for herself, her story, as well as the other children’s stories, speak for every child in this country. Guggenheim is able to passionately state that these children stand for all children. They are the statistics with faces, hearts, hopes, and aspirations and how dare we, as a society, do anything to place a halt to their futures.

With "Waiting For 'Superman'," Guggenheim has designed a film which leads to a sense of moral outrage. It is as if Guggenheim is asking all of us the following question: If we do not, and decided to not fight for our nation’s children, then what does that say abut us as a society, a country and members of a symbiotic global community? “Waiting For ‘Superman’” is a disheartening, overwhelming, and often frustrating film where the odds placed against effectively serving our children seems impossible. This film is a righteous call to arms and a lament of furious outrage hopefully pitched loudly enough for all of the powers that be to hear and hopefully influence the beginnings of real change for our children.

Three years ago, I attended my 20th high school reunion. After graduating from high school in 1987, I rarely set foot in Hyde Park, decidedly moving onwards with my life, without planning to ever look backwards. But, as I returned to my proverbial stomping grounds, I felt my synapses popping and snapping with memories triggered by familiar surroundings that were once so treasured to me. By the time I returned to my school and reunited with a large amount of my classmates, the weekend proved to be a surprisingly emotional one for me as I then realized how my experience was an entirely shared experience. It was what it was because of the people who were there with me.

We toured the school, I saw my shockingly small Lower School classrooms. The Middle School hallways, home to many painful pre-teen dramas and embarrassments was mostly unchanged. Yet, once I returned to my high school hallways and saw the new crop of students in action, everything crystallized in my brain. I watched teenage musicians performing an outdoor concert for the student body. I spoke extensively with a teenaged photographer, as he proudly showed me his latest projects while also detailing his wishes for the future. I saw gargoyle styled artwork, echoing the gothic statues across the campus, lining one of the hallways. I had the opportunity to speak with former teachers and thank them for the times they happened to take special notice of me and offer a helping hand. I even saw the retirement speech of a favorite English teacher. And mostly, I just saw kids having the freedom to just be kids, in a similar way to my own teen years.

Certainly, I did not have my rose-colored glasses placed upon my face as that is not my nature. But, I do have to say, as I walked around that environment and saw what these kids were able to do, to study and to simply be. I wanted to grab and shake each and every one of them and ask of them, “Do you realize just how great you’ve got it?! Do you even know how lucky you are?!” I know exactly how lucky they are because I was that lucky, fortunate and blessed to have had an educational background that, at its best, supported me, comforted me, enhanced me and exposed me to the very things I would have never seen otherwise.

And all of my experiences should be made available to all children of this nation, regardless of their background and the communities in which they live. My good fortune should be within the grasp of all children across our country as EVERY child deserves a superlative education. It is their right and it is consistently being denied. “Waiting For ‘Superman’” brilliantly illuminates a broken system while also waving the flag in honor of children and those who fight for their futures.

I urge you to go out and see this film and think about the education you received when you were younger. Don't our children of today deserve the same or even better?

"Waiting For 'Superman'" is one of 2010's strongest achievements.

SAVAGE CINEMA'S COMING ATTRACTIONS FOR NOVEMBER 2010

Now it's time for the big guns.

From this point until late January, Hollywood and independent studios take this opportunity to release their most major releases of the cinematic calendar year. Mostly, this is solely to have their films qualify for awards season by being the freshest in viewer's minds.

While this tactic makes for a film going year that began as horrendously as this year, it is amazing to think that there will now be more than enough movies to choose from. So much so, that it will be difficult to keep up with the pace!

But, I do intend to try, especially with increased teaching duties and holiday responsibilities on the horizon. And here's what is in the pipeline...

1. I am currently composing my review for filmmaker Davis Guggenheim's documentary "Waiting For 'Superman'."

2. I hope to then screen Clint Eastwood's spiritual drama "Hereafter."

3. "The Girl Who Kicked The Hornet's Nest," the final entry in Steig Larsson's "Millenium Trilogy," will hopefully make it's way into my schedule.

4. While not a fan of "The Hangover" at all, I have to say that Director Todd Phillips' "Due Date," starring Robert Downey Jr. and Zach Galifianakis has indeed captured my curiosity.

5. And of course...the biggest of them all for the month...NOTHING will keep me away from Director David Yates' adaptation of "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows-Part 1"!!!

That is certainly enough to keep my creative muscles flexed for the month and I hope to see you when the house lights go down...

THE GRASS ISN'T GREENER: a review of "You Will Meet A Tall Dark Stranger"

"YOU WILL MEET A TALL DARK STRANGER"
Written and Directed by Woody Allen
***1/2 (three and a half stars)

Five years ago, as I exited a movie theater after viewing a screening of Woody Allen’s superlative London set philosophical thriller, “Match Point,” I happened to briefly overhear a conversation snippet from an older couple behind me. “I guess I liked it,” offered the woman tentatively. “But, it just wasn’t funny.” The only reply from her male companion was a tired sounding sigh. I wanted to think that I understood that sigh because I uttered it to myself.

I don’t really know what it is that audiences want from Woody Allen, if anything at all. (No snarky remarks please as I realize I certainly left a door open widely.) He is extremely prolific as he releases a film every year or so. The level of his writing remains peerless. He has continued to elicit outstanding performances from his expertly selected casts. He has alternated between comedies and stark dramas and created hybrids of each for nearly 40 years running and for some reason, people still tend to leave his work befuddled, unimpressed, unenthusiastic and at worst, dismissive. The critical response that I have seen so far for his latest film, “You Will Meet A Tall Dark Stranger” has been lukewarm at best and surprisingly harsh at worst. While very little would keep me from seeing the latest Allen film, I could not help but to wonder if my reaction would possibly be more middling, especially with an artist so prolific, not every film can be a work of genius. Yet, as I watched, I became very involved and by the conclusion, I felt that Allen created yet another dark, nihilistic, yet fair-minded exploration of the human condition.

Again set in London, the film opens with the wry voice of an unseen narrator intoning Shakespeare’s wonderful quotation of life containing sound and fury but ultimately signifying nothing. Afterwards, we are immediately thrust into the jointly connected experiences of a collection of lives being played out in quiet desperation. We first meet the elderly Helena (Gemma Jones), shaken from her recent suicide attempt which was brought on by her divorce from Alfie (Anthony Hopkins), her husband of 40 years, as she is on her way to meet Cristal (Pauline Collins), a fraudulent fortune teller. Alfie, in a bout of an advanced age existential crisis, becomes obsessively involved with exercise, whitens his teeth, darkens his skin and takes up with the much younger Charmaine (Lucy Punch), a call girl who grows dangerously accustomed to Alfie’s wealth and lifestyle.

Alfie and Helena’s daughter Sally (Naomi Watts) is unhappily married to Roy (Josh Brolin), a despondent novelist, who despite having a modestly successful first book is now nowhere near completing his second. Roy quits his day job as a chauffeur to petulantly sit at home with his writer’s block and soon becomes transfixed at the sight of Dia (Freida Pinto from “Slumdog Millionaire”) through his window facing the adjoining flat. Meanwhile, Sally, a secretary and aspiring art dealer, is nursing a deep attraction to her boss, art gallery owner Greg Clemente (Antonio Banderas), a melancholy man who is also unhappily married. Throughout the course of the film, all of the characters’ deepest desires are tested, as they confront the crossroads of how the illusions they live by compare and contrast with the realities they obsessively run from.

Now, from the sound of all of these inter-related characters and their respective issues, it would not be surprising to think that people may not want to spend their hard earned money and even more precious time amongst a collective of people in various states of misery. And it’s not even presented as a slapstick comedy, the kind of film that some Allen fans are surprisingly still waiting for. “You Will Meet A Tall Dark Stranger” is a modest, sobering affair, a gloomy Sunday afternoon kind of movie that grows more profound over its running time especially as the fullness of the film’s title emerges. Once again, Allen is utilizing his gifts to explore the concepts of Fate Vs. Luck and questioning whether happiness is a right or a privilege alongside viewing the characters’ worst impulses play out in an understandable and non-judgmental fashion.

As with so many of his films, Woody Allen approaches the story with a matter-of-fact, almost documentary styled demeanor as he continues to contain a nearly endless fascination with how we all live our lives. In the case of this film’s characters, their problems contain a deeper urgency as they are all in the throes of early middle age to advanced age. They are all constantly questioning the trajectories of their lives and if they have ended up anywhere near where they may have envisioned so long ago.

For instance, when Sally first met Roy while rollerblading in a park, did she ever think that she would one day be childless, constantly fighting with her moody, unemployed husband and partially living off of Helena’s money? Did Alfie ever really feel that he could cheat the inevitability of his life with a much younger woman who turns out to be a gold digger? The film asks of its characters and the audience how deeply do we all delude ourselves throughout our daily lives and how far will we go to continue having those delusions. Once again, we have a film that forces its audience to think about the very things we certainly do not want to spend much time thinking about and Allen handles it all without the slightest edge of pretentiousness or self-important arrogance.

"You Will Meet A Tall Dark Stranger" is bathed in Allen’s trademark autumnal glow, the cinematography remains clean and uncluttered, the set and costume design is realistically appropriate to each character’s locale, income and lifestyle, Allen’s writing is predictably and brilliantly literate and his direction remains unfussy and without a hint of self-congratulatory flash. Yet, there are some sly touches on hand. Note the level of alcohol consumption by many of the characters, especially Roy who is rarely seen without a beer bottle in his hand or nearby. And then, throughout it all, there is the image of Roy gazing out of his window, a sight that grows more poetic, internally tragic and representative of all of the characters as the film continues.

All of the performances in “You Will Meet A Tall Dark Stranger” are uniformly excellent. Naomi Watts is an actress I have loved dearly since her incredible performance in David Lynch’s “Mulholland Drive” (2001) and she seems nearly incapable of striking a false note. Her ability to channel frustration, flirtatiousness, weakness, ferocious fury, incredulity, and crumbling heartbreak with an unrequited crush seems as effortless as walking and talking. She spins on a dime and it is a treasure to regard and behold her talent. I must make special mention of Roger Ashton-Griffiths who is quite endearing as Jonathan, a potential suitor for Helena who is also a recent widower who happens to own and operate an occult bookshop. But, for me, the film’s standout was the magnetic Josh Brolin who continues to impress me with role after role. The path of the character of Roy, with his fixation upon Dia as well as with his failing writing career, takes some surprisingly dark turns and he was so gripping that I could’ve easily taken an entire film based around him, thus making for an excellent companion piece to Allen’s “Crimes and Misdemeanors” (1989), “Match Point” and “Cassandra’s Dream” (2007). As it stands, the character of Roy and the performance of Brolin assist to make the film a fully resonant whole, one that would have easily faltered if this crucial element were not in place.

I would not be at all surprised that some may complain about the film’s lack of resolution or that it doesn’t really break any new ground for Allen. That these are the same issues and problems we have experienced in one Woody Allen film after another. All of those concerns may be very true, but, I think that is almost the point of "You Will Meet A Tall Dark Stranger" as it is the latest installment of what could be essentially one long film for Allen--especially when looking at the purposefully clichéd sounding title. The issues, situations, foibles, hopes and failings of these characters mirror the same experiences of past Allen characters as well as everyone who chooses to watch them. Philosophically speaking, Allen may be stating that this particular sound and fury is the same sound and fury that has been echoing through every single human being throughout all of time itself. And as these characters (as well as the audience) all march closer to meeting that silent, tall, dark stranger with the black cloak and scythe, that very pursuit of happiness grows bracingly crucial.

But does it all signify nothing? Are our ever present aching desires ultimately meaningless? And are the delusions we set in place for ourselves worthless? If a film is going to bother to pose these questions, and in such an intelligent and entertaining fashion, shouldn't we at least give it a try and potentially celebrate it?

I hope that you do as "You Will Meet A Tall Dark Stranger" sticks to the cinematic ribs and continues to percolate and haunt long afterwards.

FROM THE ARCHIVES 11: a review of "Whatever Works" (2009)

Originally written July 12, 2009

"WHATEVER WORKS" (2009)
Written and Directed by Woody Allen
*** (three stars)

The sublime pleasure I receive from hearing the unparalleled usage of language in a Woody Allen film is an unequivocal delight...even in one of his slighter efforts. After a four year European odyssey that produced at least two of of his finest films in many years (2005's "Match Point" and 2008's "Vicky Cristina Barcelona"), Allen returns to his beloved native New York for his latest comedic rumination on life and love, "Whatever Works." Starring the inimitable Larry David from HBO's masterful "Curb Your Enthusiasm," one may have expected (or have hoped) for a comic collaboration of seismic proportions. But, what is on display happens to be one of those aforementioned slighter efforts from Allen but perhaps that slightness is deceptive as the spell the film casts continues to linger after leaving the theater earlier this afternoon.

Davd stars as Boris Yellnikoff, a former Physics professor, String Theory expert, Nobel Prize hopeful and self-described "genius" who has emotionally spiralled into an endless black sea of misanthropic nihilism and quite cheerfully unleashes his rage against the world at any and every "inchworm" or "cretin" within earshot (that includes the audience whom he address by breaking the "fourth wall" early in the film). Yellnikoff is a morass of neuroses (would you expect anything else in an Allen film?) struck into this enraged state by the countless horrors of the world and more personal ones including a divorce and failed suicide attempt that has left him with a limp. At about the point where even his small circle of friends have had enough of his rants, who should drop into his life but Melody St. Ann Celestine (a joyful Evan Rachel Wood), a waifish Southern belle runaway who talks her way into Yellnikoff's apartment, promising to stay only for a few days. Melody's guilelessness and honest affection indeed begins to weaken Yellnikoff's resolve. A few days becomes nearly a year and before you know it, Melody professes her love for Yellnikoff and the two become married.

Now, before any of you begin to stone the screen feeling that this is another one of Allen's film romantic fantasies, the plot takes several twists and turns with the inclusion of more characters, most notably the separate arrivals of Melody's Southern, church going, NRA participant parents (endearingly portrayed by Patricia Clarkson and Ed Begley Jr.). What results is a film that explains simply enough that the heart wants what it wants and in a world where nothing is in our control, we must have the tolerance and acceptance of whatever gifts life may bestow at our feet--especially if it doesn't make sense initially. The relationship between Yellnikoff and Melody is a charming one but progresses in unexpected ways and the life paths of Clarkson and Begley Jr. flow into completely uncharted waters where both are surprised to realize that their lives are now happier ones.

In promotional interviews for the film, Allen explained that the screenplay for this film was originally written in the 1970's and to a degree, it shows (for the better upon further examination). Not through the humor, but through some of those character life changes. Topics of menage-a-trois and latent homosexuality are presented in a display of the almost innocent discovery that may have been a part of the 1970's journeys of self-analysis. There is no ironic distance or post-modern knowing to the proceedings and somehow, it is disarming through not being jaded and it greatly assists the film's primary theme of acceptance.

While Larry David certainly doesn't do much stretching from his HBO character (he's essentially a meaner version of his television role), he is a perfect conduit of Allen's material which could come off whiny and exhaustive from another actor's mouth. Somehow, you stick with David even at his most insufferable and perhaps our reaction gives us a window into Melody's innocent appreciation and love for this unashamedly grumpy old man. This also brings me to Evan Rachel Wood, an extremely talented young actress who I have enjoyed ever since her stint on the lovely series "Once and Again." After a collection of increasingly darker roles (which may have unintentionally made her a one-note actress), it was truly refreshing to see Wood travel to brighter pastures and show us a flirty, bouncy, light comedic style that will only work to her advantage as her career continues.

"This is NOT the feel-good movie of the year!!" bellows Yellnikoff at the start of "Whatever Works." But, somehow, through the affection for its characters, appreciation of their inner desires presented without judgement set to the marvelous tune of Allen's trademark dialogue, perhaps Allen did indeed make the feel-good movie of the year.

It didn't alter any perceptions or enthrall me like last year's "Vicky Cristina Barcelona," but I was happily entertained and for someone as skilled and prolific as Allen, a weaker effort is typically better than most other movies out there.