QUEEN BITCH: a review of "Young Adult"

“YOUNG ADULT”
Screenplay Written by Diablo Cody
Directed by Jason Reitman
**** (four stars)

“People don’t mature anymore. They just stay jackasses for the rest of their lives!”
-Grandfather Briggs
Written by John Hughes from “She’s Having A Baby” (1988)

Not long ago, I was having a conversation with a teenage acquaintance of mine. She was excitedly informing me about her recent exams at school as well as her plans, worries and hopes for college. As we spoke, I tried to alleviate her of some of her fears concerning potential college admissions as time was to her advantage within that process. As we spoke about life beyond high school, I decided to toss her the following nugget: That if any adult ever told her that high school is designed to be the best part of your life, then she should run as far away from that adult as possible. I stated this because, as far as I’m concerned, when looking at one life’s journey, I think it would be depressing to realize that you had peaked at the age of 16, making the remainder of your life an endless downward spiral.

This sentiment is at the core of “Young Adult,” a bitter, extremely sharp written dark comedy from Director Jason Reitman and Writer Diablo Cody, who have re-teamed for the first time since their wonderful collaboration with “Juno” (2007). So often with Hollywood and independent features, filmmakers give much lip service to creating stories with characters who they deem to be “unlikable” yet I have found that rarely do so many of those films live up to the harsh convictions they wish to present. “Young Adult” does not make that tragic cinematic error as it houses a leading character who is defiantly unlikable at film’s start and even more unlikable at the film’s conclusion with no apologies and no false sentiment in the final reel. Yet, Reitman and Cody wisely realize that just being unlikable for the sake of being unlikable is not nearly enough to base a motion picture upon. So, through great sympathy and clear, detailed, crisp storytelling, “Young Adult” gives us a sad portrait of a life that never reached the fullness of its potential and how that realization becomes all consuming, leading to some very nasty behavior. While for some, a story of this nature may prove to be tedious or frustrating, but for me, “Young Adult” ultimately resulted in another Directorial triumph for Jason Reitman and further proof that Diablo Cody is indeed the real deal, and no “one trick pony” as a Screenwriter.

Charlize Theron provides a terrifically edgy and petulant performance as Mavis Gary, a 37-year-old ghostwriter for a once popular and now fading teen book series entitled Waverly Prep. Living in Minneapolis, Mavis’ life has taken a downward turn as her publisher has informed her that her series has been cancelled and her draft of the series’ final installment is due post haste. Perpetually drunk or hung-over and constantly bathed within the television glow of reality programs, Mavis receives a devastating blow within her e-mail which arrives in the form of a birth announcement celebrating the Fatherhood of her high school flame Buddy Slade (Patrick Wilson). Enraged, Mavis returns to her small hometown of Mercury, Minnesota with the full, misguided determination of “saving” Buddy from his empty life of marriage and parenthood by rekindling their old romance, stealing him away and whisking him back to Minneapolis.

While toiling away a lonely evening in a tiny Mercury bar, Mavis is reunited with Matt Freehauf (Patton Oswalt), a barely remembered high school classmate whose locker was immediately next to hers and is now living out his own melancholy existence with a permanent physically disability gained from being the victim of a misdirected homophobic high school attack. As Mavis drunkenly confesses her dubious plans to claim Buddy Slade for her own once more, the twosome forge an embittered companionship of sorts as they each remain trapped by the lost dreams of their youths which have transformed into their respective miserable lives in early middle age.

From the first few scenes, “Young Adult” quickly establishes itself as one of the sharpest comedies of 2011 by firmly establishing the life of a former high school mean girl who has become an even meaner woman while not winking at the audience, letting the viewer know that what they are watching is nothing more than an ill-tempered joke. On the contrary, Jason Reitman has so much more on his mind than easy humor and superficial bad behavior. What he and Diablo Cody have accomplished so strongly is to present the fullness of a life, warts and all and most importantly, without judgment. In his previous films, including the brilliant “Up In The Air” (2009) and the aforementioned “Juno,” Reitman has become a masterful chronicler of modern day 21st century life and times and I deeply appreciated how he simply allowed the characters and situations to speak for themselves, allowing the audience to make the connections and observations for themselves. Reitman’s hand is always unforced yet always inventive and insightful as he always probes deeply, unearthing a myriad of uncomfortable truths that are nothing less than universal. “Young Adult” is no exception as it combines the familiar feeling of emotionally unfinished business and high school reunion anxiety of a film like Director George Armitage’s excellent “Grosse Point Blank” (1997) with an acerbic, acidic and cynical wit that is all of its own creation.

Charlize Theron is sensational. She delivers a fully lived-in, three-dimensional portrayal that never strikes a false note, or descends into audience self-congratulatory bitchiness. It is a performance given with a complete lack of vanity as Theron goes through a physical transformation that made her nearly unrecognizable from the statuesque model we have seen on television commercials. While not as drastic as her ferocious appearance in Writer/Director Patty Jenkins’ “Monster” (2003), I was consistently surprised with how unattractive she looked throughout “Young Adult,” a perfect cosmetic tool as her appearance is obviously a reflection of her inner world combined with her rampant alcoholism. Reitman places his camera uncomfortably close to her face and you can see the desperate, alcohol ravaged, cracked plastic beauty of the glowing teenager she once was. And I do not think that it would be terribly far fetched to see her jealous disgust at the natural beauty of Buddy’s wife, Beth Slade (Elizabeth Reaser) staring her in the face.

But, Charlize Theron’s performance is not purely cosmetic as she works this character completely from the inside out. Mavis Gary is a woman who has succumbed to a raw arrested development where she desperately tries to live her adult life from the cocoon of her beloved 1990’s teen years. But, just like the characters in Director Steve Pink’s raucous yet surprisingly perceptive “Hot Tub Time Machine” (2010) and Writer/Director Noah Baumbach’s equally perceptive yet sadly somnambulant “Greenberg” (2010) discovered, Mavis slowly realizes that her cherished years were possibly not much to cherish in the first place. Beyond that, she also realizes that despite any popularity in the high school halls and class yearbooks, she was vehemently despised by many back then and even moreso now. In fact, and much to her disgust, the very people she barely holds any contempt for are the very ones who now pity her sad existence. Mavis’s sense of entitlement knows no bounds as she struggles yet refuses to accept living in a world that will simply not deliver all of the glories she desires simply because she wants them. It is more than fitting that she is constantly watching Kardashian reality television programs or is consumed with ghostwriting a book series that deals with the most shallow, narcissism of adolescence. Ultimately, Mavis Gary is in the same disappointing life stage as Kristen Wiig’s hapless character from Director Paul Feig’s excellent “Bridesmaids.” Both of those characters exhibit some very bad behavior but, like the song says, only Mavis Gary is truly bad to the bone.

Patton Oswalt fulfills the promise of his dramatic acting chops seen so wonderfully in Writer/Director Robert D. Siegel’s “Big Fan” (2009) as he beautifully combines gallows humor and crushing pathos as he brings to life a character for whom the long range and life altering effects of teenage bullying are permanent.

The relationship he creates with Theron as the characters of Matt and Mavis is an achingly precarious one that is filled with a cruel sense of one-upsmanship. Matt still nurses his long unrequited crush yet feels morally superior to Mavis due to her selfish pursuit of the married Buddy Slade. Yet for Mavis, we can always question if she has finally found a kindred spirit in Matt or if he is yet another person who will always be placed on a lower rung on the social ladder, a place where she can always feel superior over someone else, forever lording her status overhead. Patton Oswalt and Charlize Theron are a particularly dynamic, yet loathsome, duo but they make for an exhilarating acting duet.

I must take some time to call attention to Diablo Cody’s screenplay as she is a writer who I believe has received an unfair amount of short shrift and criticism. During the theatrical release of “Juno," Cody was criticized for heaping a large amount of dialogue many felt to be self-consciously quirky to the degree that it was distracting and a hindrance to the film as a whole. Now, dear readers, you know how I feel about that awful independent film self-conscious, self-congratulatory shield of quirkiness. But for me, I felt her dialogue within “Juno” completely served her title character as it was nothing more than a protective shield to mask her obvious fear with being a pregnant teenager. Yes, Cody’s dialogue was heightened by so was the dialogue of say John Hughes, Woody Allen or the dialogue of Quentin Tarantino, three screenwriters consistently revered for their skills with creating their own cinematic language as real people in the real world do not speak exactly like their characters either.

In “Young Adult,” those levels of heightened dialogue are toned way down not because of past criticism but because that style would not really fit this story. Cody is intelligent enough to know when to bring out snap of her dialogue at the right moments so that the words sting harshly and leaves prevalent wounds that linger throughout the film. Greatly, it is her gift as a storyteller that shines brightest as she gives Mavis Gary a full history that we are given the details at key, crucial moments. And most importantly, I must commend Cody and Reitman for not making the cardinal cinematic sin of having an unlikable character who must be redeemed by the film’s conclusion. “Young Adult” succeeds grandly where films like Director Jake Kasdan’s “Bad Teacher” and Director Jesse Peretz’s “Our Idiot Brother” failed. In regards to the former, we are not given a candy colored superficial sense of a person’s inherent badness and with the latter, and unlike that film’s horrifically whiny trio of sisters, Reitman and Cody ensure that we understand the character of Mavis Gary while we also loathe her. Therefore, we will continue to follow her story and not stone the screen in repulsion.

Recently, I have come to the realization that middle age does not necessarily mean that one has ascended to a newfound sense of maturity. I think it means that we have found ourselves in the throes of adult adolescence. What we choose to do with that is up to us. We will rise, fall and hopefully rise again, making the same mistakes that plagued us during our teenage years as we all struggle with the idea of what will we be when we grow up. But we do grow up, whether we want to or not and unfortunately for Mavis Gary, that realization may have arrived too late and if it has, I doubt she even cares anyway.

Thank the cinematic fates that we have storytellers on the level of Jason Reitman and Diablo Cody who care enough to rise to the challenge and break all of the familiar rules when it comes to tales of the emotional paralysis that occurs during a bout of middle-aged ennui. Dear readers, the movie theaters are about to become flooded with must see material, of which I am going to try my best and see as many of as possible. But I urge all of you to please not let this excellent film fall through the box office cracks. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. When films of the high quality of “Young Adult” arrive, I really believe that we owe it to ourselves as moviegoers to go out and support them.

“Young Adult” more than deserves our support.

HAIL CAESAR!: a review of "Rise Of The Planet Of The Apes"

“RISE OF THE PLANET OF THE APES”
Screenplay Written by Rick Jaffa and Amanda Silver
Directed by Rupert Wyatt
*** (three stars)

I have to say that I could easily live the remainder of my blessed life without ever seeing even one more entry in the “Planet Of The Apes” series.

Throughout my life watching movies, I have to admit to having never had that much of an attraction towards the “Planet Of the Apes” series. Even throughout my science fiction obsessed childhood (which consisted of a steady diet of “Star Trek” reruns plus “Flash Gordon” and “Buck Rogers” serials), especially during the days before “Star Wars” completely changed the game in 1977, the sights of walking, talking, horse riding apes with rifles did not posses a draw for me. I actually never even saw the films until the 1990’s, when a chance cable television viewing of the 1968 classic Charlton Heston starring vehicle impressed me enough to quickly race out and rent the remaining four films in the series. While the quintet of films were more than a bit messy, I was surprised and impressed at how dystopian, bleak, violent and even socially relevant those films actually were in regards to their allegorical plays on race relations, the civil rights movement, the ecology and even nuclear holocaust (the second film in the G rated series actually concluded with the destruction of Earth of all things).

Because of that quintet, my interest was piqued just enough to get myself excited about Director Tim Burton’s 2001 “re-imagining” starring Mark Wahlberg and without going into it terribly much, that film was such a massive, misguided letdown that it truly soured any potential interest I had in ever watching another “Apes” experience ever again.

But then, this past summer, the suits in Hollywood decided that another try with the “Apes” franchise was necessary for some reason unbeknownst to me. I have to admit to being surprised not only with the massive box office take the film received during its late summer release, but also with the high critical praise it received as well. Now, dear readers, after having seen it myself, I do have to make the announcement that, while not perfect, “Rise Of The Planet Of The Apes” was more than a bit of a surprise. It is a thoughtful, imaginative, inventive, fast-paced series reboot…or rather, re-imagining that cleverly accomplishes the feat of appealing to fans of the original films while simultaneously making the experience completely accessible to novices.

“Rise Of The Planet Of The Apes” opens with the capture of five primates from the jungle and their transport to the San Francisco based Gen-Sys biotechnology laboratories where Dr. Will Rodman (James Franco) is deeply involved with a potentially revolutionary treatment that may potentially cure Alzheimer’s disease.

Utilizing the apes as test subjects for his new formula, it is soon discovered that through mutating the chimpanzees’ genetic makeup, the original level of the animals’ intelligence is dramatically enhanced. After a chimpanzee nicknamed “Bright Eyes,” Will’s most successful test subject, goes on a rampage in the attempt to protect her then (unknown to the scientists) unborn chimp, Will’s boss and financial benefactor Steven Jacobs (David Oyelowo), orders the complete euthanization of Bright Eyes and the remaining chimpanzees. As Will’s friend and chimp handler Robert Franklin (Tyler Labine) is unable to kill the baby chimp, Will reluctantly takes the chimp home for temporary safekeeping as well as for therapeutic companionship for Charles (a hammy John Lithgow), Will’s Alzheimer’s afflicted Father.

Over the course of the following years, Will feverishly continues his scientific research which includes secretly testing his new formula upon his Father, an act which does indeed cure—albeit temporarily--his Alzheimer’s disease. The chimp, now named Caesar, has become a deeply loved member of Will’s household. Caesar, having inherited his Mother’s hyper-intelligence, yearns for larger surroundings to explore outside of the home, which is granted through beloved visits to the Redwood forests. Most importantly, Caesar has begun the painful process of examining the purpose of his life’s existence. As a cherished family member, although within a human family, he questions if he is merely a “pet” or meant for something much larger.

After one too many negative encounters with their cantankerous airline pilot neighbor, Caesar is forcibly taken from Will and brought to the San Bruno Primate Facility, a dank, dungeon like facility run by the icy John Landon (Brian Cox). Even worse, all of the animals are treated viciously by Landon’s sadistic son Dodge (a thoroughly hiss worthy Tom Felton from the “Harry Potter” film series).

While Will and his girlfriend Caroline Aranha (Frieda Pinto), a San Francisco Zoo primate specialist desperately try to free Caesar from the Primate facility, Caesar begins his life altering journey as this genetically enhanced primate is assimilated for the first time with members of his own species. As he struggles to claim his dominant platform within the group, Caesar eventually organizes the imprisoned apes, becomes leader of his species, and begins an uprising than is nothing short of revolutionary.

When it comes to the concept of “re-imagining” a classic film series, “Rise Of The Planet Of The Apes” briskly and firmly shows how that feat is to be accomplished correctly. The film functions as a loose remake of 1972’s “Conquest Of The Planet Of The Apes,” the fourth film in the original series, while also working tremendously well as an origin story. Director Rupert Wyatt and his screenwriters Rick Jaffa and Amanda Silver have ingeniously established the groundwork for a new epic trilogy that cleverly is disconnected from the original series’ timeline by moving all of the action to present day. And yet for those for whom the original series is beloved, the filmmakers have gathered more than enough visual and dialogue references that honor all of the familiar material handsomely.

Wyatt mounts a lean, clear expositional tale with a healthy dose of humor that allows the film to never become ridiculously ponderous while also keeping a firm sense of pathos regarding Caesar’s existential crisis and the film’s themes of humankind’s destructive hubris.

In fact, the most compelling theme of this film to me was essentially the found in the old proverb, “The road to Hell is paved with good intentions.” Dr. Will Rodman is not evil by any means whatsoever. He is a good man, filled with good intentions as he attempts to utilize his intelligence and scientific skills for the betterment of humanity. Unfortunately, his single-minded quest contributes to unethical and dangerous decision making which eventually results in a situation that ultimately places this film is the same vicinity as Director Steven Soderbergh’s “Contagion” and yes, even Writer/Director Lars von Trier’s “Melancholia.” Of course, “Rise Of The Planet Of The Apes” is nowhere near as serious or as artistically far reaching as those aforementioned films, but I did appreciate the strength Wyatt, Jaffa and Silver gave to this material which could have just come across as something that functioned a hair above “silly.”

As previously stated, the film does contain some flaws. For all of the CGI special effects, I did feel that in some of the more expansive sequences of Caesar swinging through the trees for instance, that the film began to take on a look that was a tad too cartoon-like. He film’s weakest link for me was sadly James Franco whose performance was so surprisingly wooden that he was thoroughly unconvincing as a genius scientist that has the formula to cure Alzheimer’s. To me, he just seemed to have stumbled, in a narcotically induced haze, from the “Pineapple Express” set. He seemed to be uncommitted to the role, which is a shame as he is an actor with strong skills as evidenced in his gripping performance in Director Danny Boyle’s excellent “127 Hours” (2010).

Where the film’s special effects work strongest, aside from the heroically staged Golden Gate Bridge uprising climax, is through the marvelous, spellbinding work of Andy Serkis who provides the full performance of Caesar through the same motion capture technique he pioneered with filmmaker Peter Jackson in his roles as Gollum and King Kong. As I have said time and again, all of the special effects in the world do not mean a whit if there is no emotional content or substance to the story at hand. Serkis does so much more than provide “Rise Of The Planet Of the Apes” with substance. Andy Serkis gives the film its beating heart and strongly pulsing soul.

Just watch Serkis’ body language throughout of course, but mostly, I would love for you to pay attention mostly to his eyes and facial expressions which convey a profoundly true sense of soul searching and that aforementioned existential crisis, and all without saying a word…that is until he absolutely has to. For some of the rumblings I have seen advocating for the work of Andy Serkis to be recognized by the Academy Awards, I would have to throw my cinematic chat into that ring as his work is so deeply skilled and unprecedented that for him to be honored with full recognition by his peers would be wonderful indeed.

But, I am getting more than a little ahead of myself. Back to the film at hand, I will say to you that Andy Serkis is so compelling that he nearly single handedly gave me an experience with a film series I have not cared that much about and despite my opening statement, he transformed it into something where I am actually looking forward to the inevitable second installment. “Rise Of The Planet Of The Apes” is yet another example this year of a summer escapist film experience that was made in the fashion and spirit of how these sorts of films used to be made. It is a solid film made with impressive skill and commitment and I think for these filmmakers, they can only rise from this satisfying point.

OBLIVION: a review of "Melancholia"

“MELANCHOLIA”
Written and Directed by Lars von Trier
**** (four stars)

“Life is only on Earth…and not for long.”
-Justine

After the end, there is nothing but blackness and silence.

Earlier this year, I announced that legendary filmmaker Terrence Malick’s “The Tree Of Life” would most likely become my favorite film of 2011 for a variety of reasons yet mostly because I just did not imagine that I would possibly see a film within the same year that stretched its artistic reaches and visions further than that film. While I am not upending my earlier proclamation, I will announce that I may have just seen a devastating equal to Malick’s masterpiece.

Uncompromising, unrepentant, and unforgiving, Writer/Director Lars von Trier’s “Melancholia” is one of 2011’s most masterful and furthest reaching cinematic achievements. It is a profoundly frightening experience as von Trier imagines no less than the end of all existence through sequences and images he bookends the film with that are truly some of the most disturbing, sensational and unforgettable images I have seen in many, many years. Yet somehow, the film as a whole did not resonate as a completely nihilistic statement. Dear readers, as you all know very well from me, I have grown to have an extreme distaste and disease with films that depict an apocalypse for pure entertainment purposes, like Roland Emmerich’s terribly inhumane “2012” (2009). Thankfully, von Trier is operating from a most humane perspective. While “Melancholia” is defiantly extremist in its conclusions, the film does indeed conspire to take a disaster and have it play out with real, recognizable people while exploring various stages of human behavior. It is an overwhelming experience and supremely artful to the highest degree. If you are willing to take this ride, I feel that the rewards will be plentiful.

“Melancholia” opens with the music of Wagner’s “Tristan und Isolde” set to a series of stunningly gorgeous yet grotesque images that unfold in a speed that I can only describe as “nightmare slow.” We are witness to birds falling from the sky. A horse falling backwards to the ground under biblically dark clouds. A bride traveling through a grim forest with ominous tree branches reaching outwards, strangling her legs and feet, holding her in place. A Mother and child feebly running away from some unseen horror with their feet sinking into the grass like quicksand. All of this and more is intercut with galactic footage of Earth and a larger, blue planet engaged in an interstellar and most likely cataclysmic cosmic ballet.

From this incredible, nearly eight-minute wordless prologue, “Melancholia” is divided into two sections. The first part, entitled “Justine,” focuses entirely upon a lavish wedding reception for the titular character (played by Kirsten Dunst) and her blissfully happy new husband Michael (Alexander Skarsgard). At first, all seems to be very well for the couple as they are introduced as being deliriously in love and laughing heartedly at the feeble attempts for the stretch limousine, in which they are riding, to navigate a narrow path to the reception location. Upon arriving, albeit late, at the massive grounds (which includes an 18 hole golf course) of Justine’s protective older sister Claire (Charlotte Gainsbourg), her horribly arrogant Astronomer husband John (an excellent Kiefer Sutherland) and their young son Leo (Cameron Spurr), Justine and Michael go through the myriad rituals of a post wedding celebration. But all is not well despite the enormous opulence on display.

Justine’s genteel Father Dexter (John Hurt) is a flirtatious, unreliable drunk while her Mother Gaby (Charlotte Rampling) is a savagely bitter nihilist who is unable to keep herself from publicly voicing her endless disapproval of the entire institution of marriage. Additionally, Justine is constantly hounded by her employer Jack (a terrific Stellan Skarsgard), to somehow conjure up a new advertising promotion on the spot.

As the evening wears on, the social constraints and expectations increasingly take their toll upon Justine who repeatedly exits the reception to find a sense of unattainable solace. Yet, an unusual new star in the sky has begun to capture Justine’s attention…

In the second section of the film set a short time after the reception and entitled “Claire,” Justine has collapsed into a debilitating depression and returns to her sister’s castle grounds for convalescence. At the same time, the family is transfixed by the arrival of Melancholia, a rogue planet scheduled to reach Earth within five days. John, the man of Science, is convinced that Melancholia will “fly by” the earth creating an astronomical event for the ages. Yet, as Melancholia moves closer, Claire grows increasingly unhinged, as she fears the two planets will collide, thus ending all existence. Surprisingly and conversely, Justine grows more serene, calmer, accepting and fearless regarding this potentially catastrophic event.

As with several grim recent films I have seen in recent months most notably Jeff Nichols’ excellent “Take Shelter,” Lars von Trier’s “Melancholia” is a merging of a person’s fractured psychological state with a more widely enveloping doom. It is a film that simultaneously functions as an intimate family drama, a dark satire of social bad manners as well as a science fiction disaster film that left me, and the audience I saw it with, motionless and in complete silence. No one rose from his or her seat until deeply within the end credit scroll and even then, every movement was made at a snail’s pace. Initially, I felt it to be a film like Darren Aronofsky’s brilliant yet brutal “Requiem For A Dream” (2000) that I could absolutely, positively never sit through a second time no matter how brilliant the experience was. But, after having settled myself with the experience over the last few days, I realize that no only could I sit through “Melancholia” a second time, I actually want to sit through it a second time.

First of all, I have to admit that during the “Justine” half of the film, I found myself growing fatigued and a tad bored. I felt some impatience with the first half of this film as the wedding party seemed to just drag on and on but once von Trier placed us within the superbly executed second half, the drudgery of the first sections became that much clearer, most especially and importantly in regards to Justine’s state of mind and extinguished spirit. At its core, “Melancholia” is a psychological portrait and metaphor for the crippling disease of depression and perhaps the devastation of suicide and death as well. I am gathering that von Trier, who has reportedly succumbed to severe depressive episodes himself, is suggesting to us that depression is not simply a slightly more extreme version of “the blues” (although the planet Melancholia is a luminous blue). Depression, at its most paralyzing, feels as if a planet has just extinguished you. And here is where the vivid intensity of Kirsten Dunst comes incredibly into play.

Kirsten Dunst is an actress I have admired for many years and while she has continued to surprise me with her depth, I have to say that I have not ever seen her with such weight and gravity. While she does not elicit a performance that is a showstopper on the level of Natalie Portman’s career best performance in Darren Aronofsky’s “Black Swan” (2010), Dunst is an unexpected yet absolutely perfect conduit for von Trier’s exploration of mental illness. As Justine, Kirsten Dunst portrays a young woman who seemingly has everything going for her from an adoring husband, wealth, beauty, to a career promotion, but ultimately, she loses every shred, most notably her mind and whatever faith she ever held in the nature of life itself. Dunst’s performance is not one that depicts depression as a means of hysteria. It is a performance where she evokes the physical debilitation of depression where even the most seemingly simple tasks like taking a bath are impossible and even eating a favorite meal is filled with despair (“It tastes like ashes,” she weeps during a family dinner). I was amazed with the way Dunst dropped her vocal range a few registers, brining forth a new hardness and coldness.

I also found it very interesting that within the film’s family dynamic, Justine, who seems to be purely American, exists within a family of Europeans, just one element that contributes to Justine’s sense of displacement in the world. Near the end of the film, as she has a tense conversation with Claire regarding how she feels that there is no other speck of existence in the universe, Claire questions Justine as to how she can be certain about such a belief. Justine simply and plainly replies, “I know things.” Recalling the film's prologue, this statement oddly stations Justine as some sort of a prophet (or keeping with the science fiction element, she may also function as an alien), another stance that places her severely outside of everyone else in her life. Kirsten Dunst delivers a performance of subtle power and all of the accolades she has received thus far, and is bound to receive during awards season, are fully deserved.

As Justine’s sister Claire, Charlotte Gainsbourg is Kirsten Dunst’s equal as she is the lifelong caretaker who finds herself in need once her own existential anxiety upends her during the second half of the film. Where Justine, I would imagine to be somewhat impenetrable for many viewers, the character of Claire is more relatable as her vision of the world reflects my own, making the horror of the end of the world entirely shared. While not forsaking any conceptual themes from the film’s first half, Lars von Trier makes the second half exist as a nearly unbearable thriller.

Believe it or not, I found myself often thinking about James Cameron’s “Titanic” (1997) during this part of the film in regards to its structure and how it contributed heavily to the terrifying nature of what lies ahead for the characters. Like Cameron’s epic, the second half of “Melancholia” builds tremendously well because of the knowledge the audience has already gained from the film’s striking prologue. As the planets merge closer to potential collision, the characters and the audience are placed within the same emotional and existential boat: death is coming and there is absolutely, positively nothing that anyone can do about it. Lars von Trier finds many simple and brutally effective ways to increase the tension. The sounds and sights of anxious birds and horses was a great touch. But, my favorite was the simple device of a child’s astronomical tool, nothing more than coiled wire on a stick, that is used to detect the physical proximity of Melancholia to Earth. Every time Claire used it to check and see if the planet was either closer or further away, I could hardly bear to see the results although I was sitting safely in the movie theater. And that is precisely the wicked cinematic magic Lars von Trier has created. For the characters, Melancholia is approaching and they can do nothing but await their demise and for us in the audience, we know what will happen and despite how much we wish for relief or a different outcome, we know it will never happen.

The brilliance of “Melancholia” is carried so firmly by the fact that the first part of the film informs the second part and vice versa. With regards to the wedding reception section, we are immersed in all manner of surprisingly cruel behavior. All of the pettiness and horrible behavior those characters inflict upon each other and furthermore, von Trier argues, the horrible behavior we inflict upon each other in our daily lives completely enhances Justine’s belief that “Life is evil. The Earth is evil. No one will miss it.” In Justine’s mind, the arrival of Melancholia is nothing less than the absolution of our problems, foibles, pressures, concerns and whatever else that clouds our minds each and every day, including our own sense of self-importance in a merciless universe. In that shining apocalypse, our problems mean nothing and in the end, they never meant anything in the first place. It is all futile when all we know becomes an endless nothingness. For a woman who feels as she, a person with nothing to lose, the end of the world comes as a blessing.

Whether becoming completely engulfed by one’s own inner demons to the point of incapacitation or being wholly devoured by a mysterious planet, Lars von Trier’s “Melancholia” is an overwhelming experience. The evocative cinematography is consistently outstanding and like moments within Malick’s “The Tree Of Life,” I felt the ghost of Stanley Kubrick hovering nearby with its usage of repetitive classical music augmenting interstellar imagery.

But “Melancholia” is no mere homage as it is purely a Lars von Trier experience. I greatly appreciated von Trier’s boldness during a time when most movies don’t even know how to be bold anymore. He fearlessly takes this film all the way to the wall, to its most logical conclusion, and like Justine in the face of annihilation, Lars von Trier never blinks.

SAVAGE POSTSCRIPT:

Like Kevin Smith’s “Red State,” you have many options of seeing “Melancholia” if you so desire. In addition to its surprisingly small theatrical run, you may rent the film via your cable provider’s On Demand feature or you may even rent the film through i-Tunes, Amazon.com and I believe that you can stream the film through a Playstation system as well. For me, nothing is like the big screen but if it is not playing in your area, try to find the biggest screen that you are able to find and let this movie take you over!

THE BLACK SHEEP RETURNS: a review of "Our Idiot Brother"

“OUR IDIOT BROTHER”
Story by Evgenia Peretz and David Schisgall and Jesse Peretz
Screenplay Written by Evgenia Peretz and David Schisgall
Directed by Jesse Peretz
*1/2 (one and a half stars)

Paul Rudd deserves better than this. Much better. And for that matter so do Rashida Jones, Zooey Deschanel, Steve Coogan, Emily Mortimer and Elizabeth Banks for all of them are saddled with carrying a movie that is nowhere equal to any of their talents.

Dear readers, I have to say up front that “Our Idiot Brother” is a terrible film simply because it is one of those films that simply cannot be bothered to dig itself in and try. Yes, the aforementioned cast is an excellent one, the actual story provides a great framework for these actors, and yes, it does have its moments, including one choice and extremely well placed expletive that made me howl with laughter. But, when the proceedings were all said and done, I felt nothing and simply regarded almost the entire escapade as an empty exercise.

Rudd stars as Ned Rochlin, an affable, perpetually stoned organic farmer who, at the film’s start, is arrested and jailed for eight months after mistakenly selling marijuana to a police officer. Upon his release from prison, Ned is exiled from the farm by his passive aggressive pseudo hippie ex-girlfriend Janet (Kathryn Hahn). Now penniless, homeless and without the company of his treasured dog Willie Nelson, Ned travels back to his Mother Ilene’s (Shirley Knight) house for a family dinner with his three seemingly more successful and well-adjusted sisters and their respective partners.

There’s Ned’s oldest sister Liz (Emily Mortimer) who is married to Dylan (Steve Coogan), a brusquely impatient and romantically duplicitous documentary filmmaker. Liz and Dylan are extremely strict parents to the young and unhappy River (a fine and natural Matthew Mindler), whom they are both anxiously hoping to enroll into an exclusive private school.

Next, we are introduced to Natalie (Zooey Deschanel), Ned’s more free spirited, bisexual sister who is currently in a relationship with Cindy (Rashida Jones), an attorney. Yet Natalie’s fear of commitment lands her into an affair with the hipster artist Christian (Hugh Dancy).

Finally, we meet Ned’s third sister Miranda (Elizabeth Banks), a brittle, high-strung writer for Vanity Fair magazine who is struggling to have her first story published, an exclusive interview/expose with the philanthropist socialite Lady Arabella (Janet Montgomery). Unlike her sisters, Miranda is without a romantic partner but her neighbor Jeremy (Adam Scott) would love to take upon that role. Unfortunately, Miranda repeatedly shuns his affections while also repeatedly using him for any assistance with upkeep to her apartment.

As Ned plots and plans to earn the $500 needed for him to return to work and live at the farm, he is shuffled from one sister’s home to another, and his guileless, open hearted, uncompromisingly honest worldview inadvertently dismantles his sister’s cushy lives in more ways than one. Yet throughout all of the misunderstandings, hilarity ensues, valuable lessons are learned as the sisters discover that Ned really isn’t such an idiot after all.

If you detected a certain sarcasm within that last statement regarding the storyline of “Our Idiot Brother” you would be absolutely correct. And believe me, I don’t think that I have revealed any spoilers as I believe that any of you who have ever seen a movie before will know exactly where this film is headed from the set up. While there is nothing on the surface of this film that is dramatically wrong in regards to the actual storyline and despite the great cast and all of the talent on display, “Our Idiot Brother” is painfully and almost unbearably yet another entry into the dysfunctional family genre. But this film, like Writer/Director Noah Baumbach’s equally painfully unbearable “Margot At The Wedding” (2007), has absolutely nothing, I mean nothing insightful or new to say about the subject. Which is a shame, as well as a shocking surprise, because Peretz and his team of two screenwriters could not seem to come up with even one idea or observance about family life and sibling relationships that delved anywhere beneath the obvious. It felt as if Peretz thought the likeability and talents of the terrific cast, especially those of Paul Rudd, would be enough to collectively carry and save the film. But it wasn’t. The cast of “Our Idiot Brother” are all active, engaged performers who are willing, more than able and very ready to work, so why not really give them all something to sink their collective talents into instead of just squandering them all?

In addition to Peretz’s direction being completely flat, and too wry and dry for its own good, I just did not believe in many of the film’s characters at all which was a huge problem. I hated all three of the sisters as they are so insufferable, so narcissistic, so selfish, self-absorbed and egotistical that they were almost irredeemable. These three sisters were not represented in a satirical or surreal sense like Writer/Director Paul Thomas Anderson conveys with Adam Sandler’s army of seven sisters in the wonderful “Punch- Drunk Love” (2002). No, Peretz is attempting to present a grouping of real people in a real world with real problems but without any real depth whatsoever. And as good as Paul Rudd is in this film, the screenplay lets his character down over and again as his level of sweetly candid honesty is unrealistic to the point of being a near cartoon. Yes, he is stoned for a time and does live with his head in the clouds of a more utopian sensibility but his lack of common sense felt to be so phony, so contrived and simply existed in this fashion to keep the wheels of the plots creaking along.

Worst of all, and as previously stated, “Our Idiot Brother” is a wholly predictable enterprise with absolutely no surprises or at least, valuable insights into the inner workings of this family. Of course, this film does not need to be a Bergman-esque or Chekovian drama and I firmly believe that the story of a family’s black sheep returning to the fold to unravel and hopefully mend the lives of his three sisters could be mined deeply for comedic gold. So it just boggles my mind that Peretz even give the material an honest attempt as the entire proceedings feels like a sketch of a screenplay instead of a fully thought out experience.

Think of Director Lisa Cholodenko’s excellent “The Kids Are All Right” from just last year or even the complete works of Writer/Director Nicole Holofcener, which includes “Walking and Talking” (1996), “Lovely & Amazing” (2001), “Friends With Money” (2006) and last year’s terrific “Please Give.” Both Cholodenko and Holofcener somehow, and in Holofcener’s case, always discover probing, fresh and uncomfortably perceptive viewpoints with the familiar subject matter of families and the roles in which we play within the families we create as well as the ones we are born into. Both filmmakers also utilize a light tough but they always weave ways to burrow under your skin, peeling back one layer of difficult truth after another.

“Out Idiot Brother,” on the other hand, is completely and utterly superficial as the film is nothing more than sitcom situations, band-aid solutions and nowhere near as funny, honest or perceptive as it desperately needs to be…or thinks it is because these characters never really function as real people. Peretz just firmly sticks to the easiest, simplest and most obvious set up and conclusions: Ned’s three sisters are the true idiots who all have something to learn from Ned’s relative innocence and good hearted nature. And Peretz makes this point over and over and over again. Yawn.

Look, dear readers, despite my vitriol, I am glad that I saw this film as I did want to. I'm just mad at the result. But, I’m telling you, my patience grows thinner with each and every movie that comes along and wastes my time. Honestly, if the filmmakers aren’t going to try and make the best story that they can, then why should I watch it at all?

MAH NA MAH NA: a review of "The Muppets"

“THE MUPPETS”
Screenplay Written by Jason Segal and Nicholas Stoller
Directed by James Bobin
*** ½ (three and a half stars)

It suddenly dawned upon me that I have never known a world where The Muppets have not existed.

From my earliest years watching “Sesame Street,” to my later childhood and pre-adolescent years watching “The Muppet Show,” seeing their first two motion pictures “The Muppet Movie” (1979) and “The Great Muppet Caper” (1981), plus more subversive appearances upon “Saturday Night Live” and most certainly, the major influence of a diminutive Jedi Knight in the “Star Wars” universe, the vision and artistry of Jim Henson and chief Muppeteer Frank Oz remained a constant and welcome presence in my development. I adored their irrepressible antics, their unmistakable madness, their endlessly inventive word play and slapstick and I would gather that perhaps what appealed to me most of all, although I don’t think I would have picked up upon this at tat time, was their undying sense of humanity. It’s strange, but even as an adult and knowing more about the actual behind the scenes mechanics of how these characters are brought to life, Miss Piggy, Fozzie Bear, Gonzo, and especially Kermit The Frog, still feel so very real to me. They are trusted friends who will stick by you to the bitter end simply because that’s just what friends do.

As I grew older and was not actively watching anything related to The Muppets, I was always pleased to see that they remained a strong influence in pop culture for a time. It was comforting to know that Kermit and his friends were somehow still there, their gracious and hysterical influence was still in the atmosphere, especially after the untimely passing of Jim Henson in 1990. But, over time, I found something a tad unsettling.

In my life as a preschool teacher, I have often come up with silly nicknames of one sort or another to address my young students. Often times, I have even addressed them as “Muppets” because their wide eyes, grand smiles and boundless energy often reminds me of Muppet characters racing around a room, waving their appendages in hilarity. When I arrived at a year recently when I addressed the children as Muppets, they all looked at me blankly. It was obvious that my students did not have any idea of who or what Muppets could be, and believe it or not, it just saddened me. While I have known of a small smattering of families who have checked out Muppet videos from the library or local video stores in recent years, I just could not fathom a world where The Muppets had fallen so out of favor that a new generation of children would grow up not knowing their unique and irreplaceable brand of magic.

I just know that Jason Segal must have been feeling the exact same way as I, since he and writing partner Nicholas Stoller (who co-created the terrific 2009 R rated romantic comedy “Forgetting Sarah Marshall”), have seemingly willed the world of these characters back into existence with the wonderful new film “The Muppets.” This bright, bouncy, hugely enjoyable new film not only marks the grand return of Kermit and friends to the big screen, it is an experience which serves as an obvious labor of love for Jason Segal, as that very love shines through every frame of this movie from beginning to end.

As “The Muppets” opens, we are introduced to Gary (Jason Segal) and his brother Walter, a Muppet, who has increasingly begun to feel out of place in the human world of Smalltown U.S.A. After watching vintage episodes of “The Muppet Show” as youths, Walter soon becomes the biggest Muppet fan of them all, especially as he senses a kinship with this odd collective of singing, dancing, always joking and jovial characters. Walter is blessed with a major surprise from Gary, as the twosome plus Gary’s longtime girlfriend Mary (the adorable Amy Adams), plan to take a trip to Los Angeles, promising Walter that they will indeed make a stop at the legendary Muppet Studios for a tour.

Upon arriving, the trio is stunned to find the Muppet Studios in a dilapidated state and that the famed Muppet crew has all disbanded, has not performed together in years and are currently living out their days in relative obscurity. To make matters even worse, Walter overhears the fiendish plans of oil tycoon Tex Richmond (a terrific Chris Cooper), who is determined to tear down the Muppet Studios to drill for oil. Walter, with the aid of Gary and Mary, becomes determined to locate and re-group all The Muppets to hold a telethon. The goal is to raise the necessary 10 million dollars (!) to buy back their studio, forever keeping it away from Richmond’s greedy hands as well as reminding the world at large just how much better life can be with Muppets in it.

“The Muppets” is pure entertainment at its best and accomplishes the tricky feat of updating themselves while also possessing all of the qualities that made the world fall in love with them in the first place. The film, as energetically directed by James Bobin, features glorious musical numbers combined with gentle spirits, healthy doses of self-reflexive, subversive humor, non-sequiturs, wild slapstick, celebrity cameos (none of which I will reveal here) and a heart as wide as the open sky. There is true magic at work with these characters and I appreciate that Segal and Stoller created this film without any need to alter any perceptions about who these characters are and how they function within the world. And it struck me, so confounding yet so happily, over and again, at how much I was moved to see Kermit and friends all one more time. These characters are treasured old friends and I found myself honestly caring about what would happen to them in a world that seems to not care about them anymore.

That particular brand of melancholy was a very nice touch that Segal and Stoller kept intact for this film as that bittersweet spirit has existed at the heart of these characters ever since Kermit sang “It’s Not Easy Bein’ Green” so very long ago. For all of the sunshine on display, the filmmakers have not forgotten to ensure those dark clouds are present here and there, making for moments that were purely touching and heart tugging. Walter’s search for his sense of purpose and place in the world is a quality that faces all of us, thus making this new Muppet character instantly endearing. I even have to say that the love story between Gary and Mary also provides some very sweet moments as they are reaching their 10th anniversary together and Mary is increasingly troubled by Gary’s devotion to Walter at her expense. For that matter, the love story between Kermit and Miss Piggy held surprisingly mature poignancy as well. Yet, it was during a sequence where Kermit walks through his lonely mansion surrounded by images of his once glorious and beloved past and sings a sad song entitled “Pictures In My Head” that I felt the film to be so emotionally resonant that I had to remind myself and laugh to myself that this singing, talking frog is not even real. But then again, Kermit is nothing BUT real and that realness is what binds our love and affection towards him and all of his friends.

But, do not get me wrong. “The Muppets” is by no means a drama and it provides huge, honest laughter throughout. With a storyline lifted from classic Mickey Rooney movies as well as the “we’re putting the band back together” element from John Landis’ “The Blues Brothers” (1980), “The Muppets” is a movie that knows all along that it is a movie and it has a great time playing with that knowledge with the audience. The filmmakers address the increased irrelevancy of The Muppets, plus a certain soullessness of current children’s entertainment head on within the plot making the telethon sequence, which is essentially a big screen version of the classic television show, that much more meaningful. I’m telling you dear readers, when Kermit began to strum his banjo once again to perform “The Rainbow Connection,” my heart filled with supreme joy. And it is that special brand of joy that would be missing in a world without Muppets, a world Jason Segal so passionately never wishes to see and a world I, just as passionately, never wish for any child to have.

Look dear readers, I know that a certain computer generated, squeaky voiced chipmunk and his brothers are soon to arrive again in the multiplexes for the holiday season and will indeed rake in a fortune at the box office. Fine. Go see them. I cannot stop you even if I wanted to. But, please, for those of you that are parents, do not complain about the lack of quality family film material especially as the theaters are also featuring Martin Scorsese’s extraordinary “Hugo,” Cameron Crowe’s beautiful “We Bought A Zoo” (opening at Christmas) and now, “The Muppets” as well.

“The Muppets” is a film filled to the brim with hilarity, artistry and love. It is pure, honest entertainment that wants nothing more than to fill your heart and place a goofy smile upon your collective faces, a feat this film accomplishes splendidly. Yet, it was at first jarring to not hear the familiar voices of Jim Henson and the retired Frank Oz at play but that disappointment faded quickly as what this current breed of Muppeteers have done is to keep the souls of Kermit and company fully alive. In short and utilizing these characters’ special brand of vernacular, “The Muppets” is Muppetational entertainment meant for absolutely everyone.

Returning to my classroom for a brief moment, just last week I began to sing the classic “Mah Na Mah Na” song and one of my young charges opened his eyes widely, formed a terrifically beaming smile and exclaimed, “That’s The Muppets!!!!!” At that point, my face lit up into a terrifically beaming smile and I replied to him, “Yes it is, my boy! Yes it is!!” It charmed me to think that possibly a new generation would finally know what so many generations have known so deeply: That a world without Muppets is not a world any of us would ever wish to see.

Welcome back and long may you run!!!!!

A REVIEW OF "LIFE ITSELF: A MEMOIR" BY ROGER EBERT-A SAVAGE CINEMA EXCLUSIVE

LIFE ITSELF: A MEMOIR
BY ROGER EBERT

Magnificent!!!! Stupendous!!! Outstanding!!! Bravo!!!

On the first day of December 2011, in the early morning hours before getting myself ready for another’s day work, I finally completed reading Life Itself, the exemplary memoir from the great Roger Ebert. The first word I said to myself after I read the final page and closed the cover was “beautiful” because in my mind, this book is a thing of beauty.

I should inform you that typically, I tend to not read biographies or autobiographies that much. When I do, they are also typically about a treasured musician, writer or filmmaker and many times, I tend to not even read them within a linear fashion. I tend to jump around a lot, going backwards and forwards, and finding the sections that go behind the scenes of any particular work that I have long admired.

I like to see myself as a voracious reader but I am admittedly a slow reader. Unlike my wife, who consistently chomps through one book after another with Herculean velocity (she often reminds me of those old Evelyn Wood Reading Dynamics commercials with fingers flying across the book’s pages), that I tease her about any possibly reading comprehension she may or may not possess. I am the type of person who can easily read a book for a short period, place it down, return to it later and so on. On rare occasions, I am so riveted by what I am reading that I cannot place the book down. But there are the times during which I am so enraptured that I want the experience to last me for as long as possible. I wish to savor it for I love it so much that I do not wish for the sensation the book is bestowing upon me to end anytime soon. I think of whenever John Irving releases a new novel or when author David Michaelis released his mammoth 704-page tome of Charles M. Schulz’s life and career, entitled Schulz and Peanuts: A Biography in 2007. For those titles, I sat and read the books completely enthralled as those authors’ gifts with the written word captivated me tremendously. Roger Ebert’s Life Itself is precisely one of those kinds of books.

I am not certain if I could honestly say that Life Itself exceeded any conceivable expectations I may have had for it because I just as honestly had no idea of what to expect. Roger Ebert’s writings as a film critic have deeply inspired me, as all of you know so very well. His life and career will always be a primary source of inspiration for any word that appears upon Savage Cinema, for his work has enriched my life in ways that he will never fully know. With his memoir, we are all now given the opportunity to take a gaze into the fullness of his life, which he presents with a writing style so personable and luxurious that the experience of reading Life Itself felt at times to be as grand as any John Irving novel and as open and forthcoming as if Ebert himself were sitting in the room with you, recounting tales from his remarkable life journey. For this book, I wanted to sit within his world for as long as I could stretch out the experience. Yes, of course, I could read it again. But, I could never read it again for the first time and as we all know, there’s something so special about that first time.

Life Itself opens with a stunning prologue entitled “Memory,” a near tour de force that begins with the magical line, “I was born inside the movie of my life.” It is rare that a book’s opening words grip me so instantly as well as feeling both epic and intimate. From this point, and through the following 55 crisply written, easily digestible and exuberantly engaging chapters, Roger Ebert presents us with a cavalcade of experiences. From his idyllic childhood growing up in Urbana, Il to his beginnings as a journalist and life as a film critic to his world travels, bout with alcoholism, romances and of course his relationship with the late, great Gene Siskel, Ebert shares his loves, passions, tributes, and personal philosophies with wit, warmth and frank openness.

By the time the book nears its conclusion, Ebert arrives in the present, speaking directly about his ailments, most notably the cancer that has inflicted him and the subsequent surgeries that have left him unable to eat, drink or speak. Despite a physical state that I could never imagine for myself and feverishly wish never occurs to me or to anyone close to me, Ebert seems somewhat bemused by the current state of his existence. While he strikes me as being too pragmatic to even accept the term, he reaches a point of true inspiration as he has decided to not wallow within any tragic misfortunes and to approach this life stage as an opportunistic one. Roger Ebert, more than ever, is able to fully engage in the life of the mind, a mind which contains a lifetime of memories of which he is willing to unspool for our reading pleasure.

Roger Ebert’s Life Itself, is not a book about movies, although movies do figure into the life narrative of this figure through chapters devoted to his experiences with Lee Marvin, John Wayne, Werner Herzog, Martin Scorsese and Woody Allen among others. Ebert’s book, in its entirety, is as absorbing as the very best novels I have ever read. I was so in love with the experience of reading it, I purposefully prolonged it by slowing my reading pace even more. This book was not something I wanted to just consume or hurry myself through as I found the experience to be so fulfilling and rewarding.

What I truly loved about Life Itself, beyond Ebert’s candor, was how Ebert essentially utilized a similar tactic Martin Scorsese used with his excellent documentary “George Harrison: Living In the Material World.” The book, like that film, is more conversational as well as more anecdotal. While the book does indeed possess a structured narrative that starts at the beginnings of Ebert’s life and follows through to the present, Ebert allows himself the luxury to allow people, places and events of the past to merge with the people, places and events of the present. If he mentions a person without explanation of who that person may be, never fear for you will eventually be fully informed. Ultimately, this gratifying approach gives you a wonderful and extremely literate approximation of what it is and what it means to live a life. Roger Ebert’s Life Itself is a book about memories, vivid, sumptuously described memories designed for us to lose ourselves inside of as well as to reunite us with our own memories and life journey. Like everything he and Gene Siskel accomplished upon their decidedly populist television show, every word of this book is part of a conversation between author and reader and what a rich conversation Life Itself provides for all parties who wish to be included.

I have to say that when I first heard about the publication of Mr. Ebert’s memories, I was initially anxious to see what I could gather about his relationship with Gene Siskel. Perhaps I felt that I would most likely commit myself to jumping around the book’s structure and narrative, cherry picking moments and experiences as I tend to do for books of this nature. Yet, as previously stated, from the first words of the book in the prologue, I was transported and captivated all the way to the book’s conclusion. This achievement was due to the simple fact that I was supremely engaged with the author’s voice, a voice that combined the conversational and the literate so effortlessly and brilliantly.

As terrific, informative and insightful as the sections concerning Gene Siskel are, surprisingly these sections were not even my favorite parts of the book. When he described his earliest experiences with journalism as a reporter covering sports for Urbana High School and later as a writer and news editor for The Daily Illini at Champaign Urbana, I indeed felt a bit of a kinship as I remembered my first tastes of writing, editing and journalism when I wrote and edited for my high school newspaper. My heart and Anglophile spirit soared to the stratosphere during the sections where Ebert spoke so lovingly of his annual travels to London and the beloved sights of his treasured English neighborhood at 22 Jermyn Street, so much so that these sections inspired me to voyage across the pond more than ever.

Most of all, it was when Ebert becomes even more personal, allowing us to gaze through the window into his life where I found Life Itself to function at its most gripping. To paraphrase Mr. Ebert, he explains that since he is only planning to write his memoirs one time, he might as well lay everything bare and I deeply appreciated and savored his frankness. I was amazed with how much he was willing to delve into publicly and reveal about his politics, spiritual beliefs as well as the dark struggles he faced during his years as an alcoholic and the subsequent struggles with his Mother, who also fell into alcoholism later during her life. Certainly his descriptions of his battles with cancer, failed surgeries and current struggles are also all detailed with candidness and strikingly without any sense of self-pity. Additionally, it is when he explores his personal love story between himself and Chaz Hammelsmith Ebert, his wife of almost 20 years, where Life Itself contains some of the book’s most gorgeously written passages. I especially found the three final sections which close the book, (entitled “My Last Words,” “How I Believe In God,” and “Go Gently” respectively) to be the most sobering and soulful as Ebert again merges the epic and the intimate, the personal and the universal, as he ponders his mortality.

Dear readers, I cannot recommend Life Itself highly enough for absolutely every single one of you. You do not have to be a fan of movies or of Roger Ebert to find something to enjoy. I recommend this book to absolutely anyone who just loves the act of reading and losing themselves in the art of fine writing because the reading of this book was a complete joy and Roger Ebert’s writing is exquisitely fine indeed. I recommend this book because not only is this book about Ebert’s life, it is a book about all of our lives. It is a book about how we choose to live and how our memories inform, shape, and guide us through every step of our life’s journeys.

Life Itself, while firmly about Roger Ebert, is also a book about us! What a blessing it is that he has shared his wonderful life with us so thrillingly and what a blessing it is that this book provides yet another vehicle for us to explore ourselves so wondrously.

SAVAGE CINEMA'S COMING ATTRACTIONS FOR DECEMBER 2011

November was a wonderful month for movies, as far as I'm concerned. For this site especially as it began with an unproduced work from John Hughes, concluded with an early screening of a new Cameron Crowe film and with no less than two features from Martin Scorsese smack dab in the middle.

But now...it's really time for the "big guns."

December is the month where Hollywood lets all of their cinematic horses out the gate to run free and it is my job to try and catch them all jointly for my viewing pleasure and of course, for my pleasure to write about them for you.

Typically, and especially as the responsibilities of the holidays takes over nearly every aspect of life, there is absolutely no way that I can possibly see everything that I wish to see during this month. Some titles will indeed spill over into January 2012 (for that matter, there are November titles I have not seen yet including "The Muppets," "Alexander Payne's "The Descendents" and Clint Eastwood's "J. Edgar") but I will indeed see what I am able to get myself to.

1. After being blessed with two films each from the aforementioned Crowe and Scorsese, December will grace us with two new films from no less than Steven Spielberg as he releases "The Adventures Of Tintin" (his collaboration with Peter Jackson as Producer) and the equine World War 1 drama "War Horse" within mere days of each other.

2. On the more big budgeted action movie front, I am very excited to see Guy Ritchie's sequel "Sherlock Holmes: A Game Of Shadows" as well as "Mission: Impossible-Ghost Protocol," the fourth installment of the series and the first live action feature directed by Brad Bird who helmed Pixar's "The Incredibles" (2004) and "Ratatouille" (2007).

3. On the arthouse and dramatic front, I am still hoping to catch the following selections...
-Lars von Trier's "Melancholia"
-"Young Adult," the new film from Director Jason Reitman who reunites with his "Juno" (2007) screenwriter Diablo Cody
-Director Stephen Daldry's post 9/11 drama "Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close"
-And finally, I am very interested in viewing the highly celebrated black and white silent movie "The Artist."

4. Ever since he released "Se7en" (1995), David Fincher has sailed to the peaks of filmmakers whose work I will always make time to screen. While the arrival of his adaptation of "The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo" is no exception it does come with extreme trepidation as I truly believe that the three terrific Swedish films have already cemented author Stieg Larsson's novels into cinematic glory. That said, I will be there to give Fincher's version a fair shot.

From here, there may be a couple of extra surprises as I have two postings currently in the hopper. And yes, Savage Cinema will indeed reach two new milestones this month as well.

It's going to be a busy month all the way around to be certain. But until then, allow me to extend to all of you a most peaceful holiday season and equally peaceful beginnings to the New Year.

And I'll see you all when the house lights go down.