"PARADISE" LOST: a review of "The Descendents"

“THE DESCENDENTS”
Based upon the novel by Kaui Hart Hemmings
Screenplay Written by Alexander Payne and Nat Faxon & Jim Rash
Directed by Alexander Payne
**** (four stars)

There is a method to my cinematic madness, dear readers.

Sometimes when I go to the movies, especially during a period when there are more than enough titles to choose from, I go through a process during which I try to mentally determine which films may have a chance of staying in theaters longer than others, therefore creating a system where I can determine exactly which film to see next. As the movie theaters are currently flooded with must-see titles, I have been utilizing this process quite a bit. For instance, the latest installments in the “Sherlock Holmes” and “Mission: Impossible” series are both films that I am certain will be around for quite a bit as they are both making their fair share of box office loot, the latter having sat at the number 1 box office slot for the previous two weeks straight. However, a film like Jason Reitman’s “Young Adult,” for example, I reasoned would not have the same chances as those aforementioned mega-movies, so I saw that one right away. I think you can gather how I go through this process, as it is all but a guessing game. But sometimes, there will be a film that has strong critical acclaim that is also showing just a strong set of “legs,” and still I’ll leap frog over that title in favor of others. And usually, by the time I see that movie, the one with the critical acclaim and mysteriously long lasting box office staying power, I end up kicking myself for not having seen it sooner. This time, “The Descendants” is that very film.

Writer/Director Alexander Payne’s “The Descendants,” his first film in seven years (the brilliant middle age satire “Sideways” from 2004), not only shows him in full command of his cinematic powers, it is also his finest work to date. The film is an emotionally overwhelming experience, housed in a profound and elegiac sadness, and featuring the nuanced, unforced stellar acting work from the entire cast led by George Clooney, who also reaches new acting heights in what just may be his finest performance to date. “The Descendants” unfolds luxuriously, with exquisite pain, realism, surprising bolts of sharp humor all augmenting the rich tapestry of characters who reveal themselves beautifully throughout. For all of the acclaim this film has been receiving as of late, feel free to add my voice to that choir.

George Clooney stars as Matt King, a Hawaiian attorney and sole trustee of a long-standing family trust that controls 25,000 acres of pristine Hawaiian land. Due to a rule against perpetuities, plus the expiration of the family trust in seven years, the King family has decided to sell the land for future development, a decision that will go forward or not based entirely upon Matt’s final decision. Just as the details of this potential deal are reaching its climax, Matt is confronted with the devastating news that his wife Elizabeth (Patricia Hastie) has been injured and rendered comatose from a boating accident. This horrific incident forces the self-described parental “understudy” to become the primary caregiver of his two daughters, 10-year-old Scottie (Amara Miller) and the belligerent, ferociously foul-mouthed 17-year-old Alex (Shailene Woodley).

As the threesome begin to cope with the family tragedy by making the rounds to extended family and friends, Matt learns that his wife, with whom he had been having troubling marital issues with before her accident, was not exactly the person he thought she was. The new realizations make Matt question their shared history, the future of their children’s precarious emotional states as well as how her final wishes and memory should be carried onwards.

I do not dare say more about this film (although a major plot point is revealed in the films trailers) because like I have said time and again, I would hope for you to experience “The Descendants” as freshly as possible. This is not a film about the element of surprise, however. It is a slice of life, that illustrates life as it is truly lived, with full, three dimensional characters who Payne allows to reveal themselves in surprising ways, which then enhances the heart of the story tremendously. Despite some of the actions and harshness of several of the film’s characters, it is a film without prefabricated villains, dishonest comedy or hyperbolic drama. And like several films I saw in 2011, from Mike Mills’ “Beginners,” Dan Rush’s “Everything Must Go,” Azazel Jacobs “Terri”, Jonathan Levine’s “50/50,” Cameron Crowe’s “We Bought A Zoo,” and the aforementioned “Young Adult,” Payne wisely allows his characters to exist and function as real human beings dealing with realistic situations without any semblance of plot driven contrivance. Because of that quality, the audience is fully able to walk within the shoes of the characters while also re-examining the decisions, trajectories, choices and consequences within our own lives.

From a purely visual level, I cannot recall if I have ever seen Hawaii look so relatively drab on screen before. I don’t offer this observation as a criticism, because I really think this was Payne’s stylistic choice in order to augment a major theme of the story. “The Descendants” is not a film that also functions as a virtual travelogue, like Woody Allen’s “Vicky Cristina Barcelona” (2008) or “Midnight In Paris” (2010). I think what Alexander Payne has accomplished is presenting the reality of Hawaii over the romance of Hawaii as it is a place just like anywhere else in the world, where sadness and tragedy are no less sad or tragic because of the tropical locale. Payne is playing with our notion of what “paradise” actually is, be it a location, a desire or even a marriage. The look of the film is firmly intertwined within the murky and increasingly confused emotional state of Matt King, and essentially all of the film’s characters, as they are all existing through a devastating period, wondering how to re-assemble their broken pieces and move on, if at all. And thankfully, Payne offers no easy answers and refuses to wrap his film up in a tidy red bow.

“The Descendants” is a film of mourning and Payne offers no lip service to the actual grieving process as he shows the difficult layers of letting go, especially as a person’s grief is firmly attached to one’s perceptions of the person who is soon to depart this world. If one knew a certain truth about the nearly deceased, what responsibilities does the one with the knowledge have to the people that loved this treasured family member and friend? And to that end, what is “the truth” anyway? Even if a person’s actions didn’t live up to one’s perceptions, doe that make those perceptions any less truthful, the person any less beloved than they had been? Payne serves these questions so effortlessly, giving viewers something to fully ponder as they leave the theater. “The Descendants” is not a film to mindlessly watch and forget on the way home. Alexander Payne has designed a feature for us to fully interact with and become emotionally involved with and again, Payne earns our emotions by trusting his story and the actors who all serve as conduits.

When I saw Jason Reitman’s “Up In The Air” (2009), I had believed that was the film where George Clooney delivered the very best of his acting skills. With “The Descendants,” I feel that he has topped himself. As Matt King, Clooney has now eschewed all aspects of his effortless cool and firmly exists as a beleaguered 50-something finding himself at an unforeseen crossroads in his life. I have not witnessed this level of emotional nakedness from him before and he moved me supremely, finding the soul in a faceless character enduring the types of painful decisions so many of us have faced or will face. His performance, as well as the story as whole, reminded me very much of Writer/Director James C. Strouse’s lovely “Grace Is Gone" (2007), which starred John Cusack agonizingly trying to tell his two daughters that their Mother, a solider, was killed in Iraq. Where that film existed as more of an elegant short story, Clooney’s work in “The Descendants,” much like the film as a whole, carries the full weight of the very best novels. It is a remarkable performance handled without flash, or self-serving acclaim. George Clooney should definitely be remembered at Oscar time for this work.

I must give special mention to the great Beau Bridges, who delivers his standard excellent work as one of Matt’s cousins and I loved seeing the wonderful supporting actress Judy Greer shine so brightly as well. I would love it if her work was remembered at Oscar time as well.

The surprise beyond surprises for me was Shailene Woodley, who currently stars in the unintentionally hysterical teen drama series, “The Secret Life Of The American Teenager,” a program noted for its (almost across the board wooden, “high school play” acting performances, which does include Woodley herself. For “The Descendants,” Woodley supremely raises her game and firmly holds her own as she often goes toe-to-toe with Clooney or serves as his co-conspirator, mentor, emotional guide and parental tormentor. There have been more than a few stories proclaiming that Woodley just may be Oscar ready with this performance. I’m not ready to go that far but she excels in this role. I recently read that Woodley is contracted for two more seasons on her television show. While a job is indeed a job in the acting world, I am certain that after grabbing this part with both hands so tightly, she is more than anxious to stretch her acting wings even further. And I am actually now very curious to see what else she can do.

You know, seeing “The Descendants” after all of these weeks and weeks since its release has made me feel as if everyone else had been carrying a great secret long before me. Well, when films of this high quality arrive, it behooves me to inform you and urge you to try it out for yourselves.

For me, “The Descendants” has earned a place as one of my favorite films of 2011.

"GREAT SNAKES!!": a review of "The Adventures Of Tintin"

“THE ADVENTURES OF TINTIN”
Based upon the comic book series written and illustrated by Herge
Screenplay Written by Steven Moffat and Edgar Wright & Joe Cornish
Directed by Steven Spielberg
*** ½ (three and a half stars)

It was akin to discovering an archaeological find.

I first discovered Herge’s Tintin comic book series when I was going through the difficult transitions of trying to find my way at a new school during the third grade in 1977. Down the hallway from my classroom, there was a small bookstore. If memory serves me correctly, the store operated for a few days each week and encouraged sales through a reading/rewards program. Between third and fifth grade, I raced through a variety of Judy Blume titles, Mark Twain’s Huckleberry Finn and Tom Sawyer and a five novel sword and sorcery series by Lloyd Alexander and even J.R.R. Tolkein’s The Hobbit. Yet before I even began to think about tackling The Lord Of The Rings, I found myself drawn to a collection of comic books, the likes of which I had not previously seen.

With all due respect to the heroes and stories from DC comics and my beloved Marvel comics and despite having a youthful protagonist as the leading hero, Herge’s Tintin series felt to be something of a more sophisticated taste and challenge to my sensibilities. I had never seen nor heard of the books before spotting them inside of this bookstore and their foreign nature attracted and perplexed me. The non-contemporary stories, while containing more than a fair share of sweeping action and adventure, told stories of international intrigue and all manner of treasure hunts, mysteries and political thrillers with refined artistic flair and elevated wordplay. No superpowers, costumes or capes were on display at any point, seemingly creating a world that was not necessarily designed for children’s entertainment. Against any feelings of trepidation I may have held, the books beckoned to me with their size, scope and sheer uniqueness that I soon took the bait. I tried one book and then another and another and over a spell, I purchased seven titles out of the published twenty four titles, voraciously reading and re-reading them over and again.

“The Adventures Of Tintin,” Director Steven Spielberg’s second film during the winter 2011 season and his first collaboration with filmmaker Peter Jackson for a proposed trilogy, is a film that simply and joyously took me back. The adventures of our intrepid young journalist, his trusty dog Snowy and the blustery, drunken Captain Haddock are superbly mounted in a splendid blend of motion capture techniques and computer animation that never once sacrifices the soul of Herge’s globetrotting escapades. After having seen a collection of darker, more serious adult fare over the last few weeks, I felt the need for a bit of unabashed fun and “The Adventures Of Tintin” did not disappoint in the least.

Our story begins inauspiciously as Tintin (engagingly portrayed by Jamie Bell) and Snowy stroll through an outdoor European market and happens upon a model-sized boat for sale called "The Unicorn." Tintin purchases the model and is immediately accosted by the insidious Ivan Ivanovitch Sakharine (Daniel Craig) who unsuccessfully attempts to purchase the boat from Tintin. This seemingly innocuous act sets forth a wild adventure involving a set of three model boats that contain three secret interlocking scrolls, a massive lost treasure, kidnapping, death defying traps, captures and escapes, pirate ships, desert dehydrations, crashing seaplanes, and even the involvement of the good hearted yet bumbling detectives Thomson and Thompson (played by Nick Frost and Simon Pegg). And at the core, is the meeting and budding friendship and alliance of Tintin and the stout hearted yet perpetually alcoholic Captain Haddock (the amazing Andy Serkis) as they join forces to stop Sakharine’s pursuits at all costs.

“The Adventures Of Tintin” is as first rate and top of the line as anything you would expect from a film directed by Steven Spielberg, a fact made even more impressive as he is clearly undaunted and excitedly invigorated by his debut with helming an animated feature. He has always been a master of visual storytelling but utilizing the world of animation seemed to have freed his creative spirit even more as if he just received the greatest set of new crayons in the world to draw with. From the film’s start, every sequence after another is staged and executed with meticulously and highly playful precision and breakneck velocity. The beautiful camerawork in particular is as effortless and feels as naturally fluid as flowing liquid.

As I ruminate over the movie, I am thinking of the sequence set during a pirate ship battle flashback interwoven with Captain Haddock’s returning flush of once lost memories. I am also recalling the movements and motion presented through a dangerous flight inside of a lightning storm. Most spectacularly, there is the astonishing motorcycle chase through Baghdad that was so wonderful and thrilling that it was here when I realized that Spielberg is having a blast with this material as well as the forward thinking animation format. It feels as if “The Adventures Of Tintin “ is the most fun Spielberg has had behind the camera in many years and symbiotically, this is the most fun I have had at a Spielberg film in many years. And truth be told, I even think that it is more entertaining and stands considerably taller than the light footed and light hearted “Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade” (1989) and “Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull” (2008).

Aside from all of the action sequences, every image contained in “The Adventures Of Tintin” is a sight to behold. Every detail, no matter how minuscule, has obviously been slaved over and the effort shows glowingly on the screen. I was amazed with the sharp sights of reflections within glass and glasses, the layers of grime and dirt upon clothing, the beads of dripping sweat upon character’s faces. Everything looked so photo realistic and convincingly lived in while also clearly functioning as a cartoon and the dual effect was stellar. In fact, I found myself marveling at the sights in the same way I did when I first saw Pixar’s original “Toy Story” (1995) and especially when Pixar raised their own bar with “Finding Nemo” (2003). But, like Dreamworks Animation Studios' glorious “How To Train Your Dragon” (2010), Spielberg and Peter Jackson’s special effects and animation team have created a work that should force the wizards of Pixar to look over their shoulders once again, perhaps snapping themselves out of the easy road of sequels they have been traveling for their last couple of pictures. Just imagine the high quality of American animated works that we could see and enjoy for generations with a bit of healthy artistic competition.

But all of the visual splendor would mean nothing at all if not for the performances which ground the film and present us with a collective of characters to root for and against. Jamie Bell and the peerless Andy Serkis make for an excellent team, vividly bringing Herge’s illustrations and characterizations to richly developed life. Even the antics and heroics of Snowy the wonder dog are so vibrantly rendered that he could even give the real life canine from Mike Mills’ “Beginners” and even Michel Hazanavicius’ “The Artist” a run for their money!

I do have to admit that while the sights of “The Adventures Of Tintin” had me from the beginning, the actual storyline did not. While the overall plot is quite simple, it is the intricacies of the plot that are complex and that results in a healthy amount of exposition that has to occur during the film’s first third to get itself going. After a time, I could not help but to wonder if “The Adventures Of Tintin” would ultimately be a terrific exercise in style and not much substance to truly make me care about what I was witnessing. But once all of those various parts clicked together, the film took off like a rocket and never slowed down.

At its very best, “The Adventures Of Tintin” raises the bar for what exactly a computer animated film can actually be. As I stated in my reviews for Martin Scorsese’s “Hugo,” Cameron Crowe’s “We Bought A Zoo” and James Bobin’s “The Muppets,” Steven Spielberg has shown so terrifically, that films aimed for children need not lack intelligence or artistry. They can be sophisticated works to be awed by and even grow up into adulthood with. I urge those of you with children to give this film a try and to please not let the unfamiliarity of the characters stop you as I am certain your children will enjoy the heroics of Tintin, Captain Haddock and Snowy as much as I did when I first read the comics.

Before I bring this review to a close, I have to share this little tidbit with you, dear readers. Over the holiday season during my visit to my parent’s home, I discovered my old Tintin books housed away upon a barely regarded shelf in an upstairs study. Beyond feeling as if I had been reunited with an old friend, this too felt to be akin to unearthing an archaeological find but this time, it was one from my past, awaiting for me to lose myself inside of it once again.

With thanks to Steven Spielberg, the masterful storyteller he is, “The Adventures Of Tintin” is a bright, bold, brisk experience where I can re-visit those old friends in an excitingly fresh new way.

OCEAN OF EMOTION: a review of "War Horse"

“WAR HORSE”
Based upon the novel by Michael Morpurgo
and the stage play adaptation by Nick Stafford
Screenplay Written by Lee Hall and Richard Curtis
Directed by Steven Spielberg
**** (four stars)

Dedicated to my beloved Rigby & Jada and to my dearly departed Pekoe & Kiwi

Dear readers, I am man enough to tell you straightaway that this film made me cry. Not simply a few sympathetic tears accompanied by a modicum of sniffles. No, folks. I silently sobbed like a hurt three-year-old child and as of the time of this writing, my eyes still feel the slight sting of those salty tears. Such is the power of the cinema when wielded by none other than Steven Spielberg.

Steven Spielberg’s “War Horse” is as old fashioned of a film as they come (short of being a silent movie like “The Artist”) as it combines the war film, the western and the tear jerker into a sumptuous experience. From the film’s first images, you will know that we are not necessarily placed into a realistic approximation of the world as we know it. This is the dream world of the movies, where the land is made of rolling vistas of green grass and the skies carry an impossible golden sheen. “War Horse” is a fable, a folktale of the horse with an iron will and a spirit that transforms all who encounter it, at home and at war. Ultimately, it is a tribute to the unshakable bond between the horse and the boy who loved him from birth. And for me, the entire production worked extraordinarily well because when you are in the hands of Steven Spielberg, you are, more often than not, in the hands of a true master. For almost 40 years now, Spielberg remains at the top of his game. He is a peerless visual storyteller who understands that if you are going to pluck heartstrings to the point of releasing the viewer’s internal floodgates, then you must do so with a pureness of heart and completely without shame. “War Horse” contains a purity that is a rare commodity these days, especially within our ironic, jaded, hipster-cool 21st century. It is also one of my favorite films of 2011.

“War Horse” opens in the lush countryside of Devon, England at the dawn of World War 1. Young Albert Narracott (played by Jeremy Irvine in his film debut) witnesses and is enraptured by the birth of a thoroughbred foal. The foal, now grown into a spirited colt, is then separated from his mother and taken to an auction where, to Albert’s Mother Rose’s (Emily Watson) dismay, he is purchased by his sad, drunken Father Ted (an excellent Peter Mullan) as a plough horse, solely to spite his wealthy landlord, Mr. Lyons (David Thewlis). Albert, already deeply in love with the horse, names it “Joey,” begins to train it and ultimately, the twosome forge a fiercely devoted bond with each other. At the outset of the war, Ted covertly sells Joey to the army in a state of financial desperation. Devastated with the turn of events, Albert pledges his undying love and friendship to Joey, vowing they will one day meet again.

From here, the adventures of Joey unfold as he changes hands with owners on both sides of the war as he faces all manner of wartime atrocities. While his beauty, strength and unbreakable bravery almost magically charms all who come in contact with him, from soldiers to a sickly farm girl (Celine Buckens) and her kindly Grandfather (Neils Arestrup). Yet, the love between Joey and Albert, and the hope that they will one day be reunited, provides the driving motivation for their respective states of perseverance…most especially, when they are each engulfed in the horrors of war.

Steven Spielberg's “War Horse” is not a film that can be intellectualized and nor should it be. This is an experience designed to be felt and felt profoundly, deeply and completely and to that end, Spielberg pours out all of the stops. From the stunning cinematography from Spielberg’s longtime collaborator Janusz Kaminski to the swelling score from composer John Williams, “War Horse” sweeps you away in huge, cascading waves of emotion and sentimentality. Now for some of you, “War Horse” may sound to be nothing more than a cinematic red flag as all of this may be an amount of manipulation that is unnecessary at best and overwrought at worst. Yet, as I have stated before on this site, all movies, regardless of genre or approach are manipulative but what do filmmaking storytellers want to do but to provide the viewer with an experience, which we will respond to? Steven Spielberg is uncommonly gifted, talented and skilled enough to know exactly, precisely when to plunge forwards or pull backwards and with “War Horse,” he forges ahead with a sentimentality that is boldly unrepentant. And for that, I feel that the film is a brave as his finest work.

Yes, “War Horse” is an episodic film meant to remind us (or in some cases, introduce us) of the classic westerns of John Ford with its widescreen canvas. Or even classic war films as well. But beyond any sense of homage, we are clearly within a Steven Spielberg universe where he has this uncanny ability to reduce the resolve of viewers to an emotional state that can only be described as “primal” and he works the heartstrings like the finest of orchestra conductors, always knowing how much, for how long, and most importantly, when. From the film’s brief goodbye between Joey and his Mother, I could feel twinges within me. With Albert’s initial farewell to Joey, I felt them even more. But, it was during the film’s war sequences, which crosscut between the experiences of Joey and the newly enlisted Albert, that Spielberg handles everything with as much skill, power and poeticism as the brutally graphic war sequences of “Saving Private Ryan” (1997), albeit with much less gore.

What spoke to me during this stage of “War Horse” the most was a quality I return to again and again on this site and that is the theme of humanity. I enjoyed the irony of viewing the inhumanity of war being filtered through the undeniable humanity that is found when a human is placed within close proximity with Joey. Somehow, someway, many of the film’s characters find the better part of themselves when confronted with having animals within their care for a spell. As Joey and his wartime horse friend are forced to pull artillery, the sense of compassion shown from one German solder towards Joey’s ailing friend was compelling. During another extended and excruciating sequence, perhaps the film’s best, Joey is trapped within a collapsed set of barbed wire and is aided to freedom by one English soldier and one German soldier.

Most of all, the humanity discovered between the magical bond between humans and animals spoke loudest to me and frankly, I could not help but to be reminded of the bonds I have made with the animals that hold a sacred place in my personal life. And perhaps, this is an aspect of the story that Spielberg wanted to convey to an audience. Think of any animals you have ever had the pleasure to know, to live with, to raise, and to love. I know that for myself, I have often wondered if my cats ever fully know how deeply they are cherished by me. How the friendship and family they have graced me with is priceless beyond measure. I wonder, of course, exactly what they think about their lives with me. What runs through their minds, hearts and souls and do they feel the same way at all. This winter, I had yet another experience that made me treasure those bonds even more as I believe that I have gathered a new insight into their interior worlds.

Simply stated, I spent a few days out of town visiting family and during my time away, I would make calls back home to check in. When I asked about the cats, I was informed that one of them slept upon the satchel I carry to work each day, a spot on which he never sleeps. The other had been spending each night on the back of our couch in a reserve pose and every time a car drove by, she would expectantly look out of the window. A few times, she even dashed to the window by the garage to look outwards even more. Once I returned, and relaxed on the love seat on which she and I spend each and every night together, I was informed that she never once sat or walked on that love seat while I was away.

I share that story with you because I feel it is that set of emotions and experiences that sit strongly and proudly at the heart of the relationship between Joey and Albert and the entirety of “War Horse” itself. Steven Spielberg has created a celebratory film about that miraculous symbiotic relationship that is indeed spiritual. It is about the connection between souls, regardless of species, through respect, courage, honor and love through the worst of times and in our especially dark political, social times of the 21st century, a film like “War Horse,” to me is a necessity, especially as this one is handled so beautifully.

“War Horse” is a film that operates on 100% emotion and requires viewers to react with the same percentage of emotion. I would think that one would have to possess a granite sealed resolve to not be moved by this film even a little bit and even then, I would think that the most hardhearted cynic would have a spot of trouble. And despite any sense of skepticism some of you may have, all I say to you is…surrender. Just surrender and be swept away, so rapturously and so wondrously...and make absolutely no apologies!

SAVAGE CINEMA'S COMING ATTRACTIONS FOR JANUARY 2012

In with the new, I say! In with the new!!!

Yes, dear readers, on this first day of 2012, I am all about "the new." But, for most of this month, I will still be surrounded with "the old," so to speak as there are several films released in December 2011 that I have not seen yet due to the events of the holiday season.

Still in the pipeline to hopefully see are the following features...

1. Steven Spielberg's two features "War Horse" and "The Adventures Of Tintin," and for the latter, I have to find an elusive 2D screening!

2. "Mission: Impossible-Ghost Protocol" from Director Brad Bird.

3. Guy Ritchie's sequel "Sherlock Holmes: A Game Of Shadows."

4. And yes, I still have not had the opportunity to see Alexander Payne's highly acclaimed "The Descendants" yet, either.

After seeing those features, I will then begin to compile and present my annual four part series commemorating the cinematic year of 2011...which will then be just in time for the Academy Awards season as well.

And even with all of that, there are at least potentially two NEW features I wish to screen. The first is Director Cameron Crowe's third 2011 feature, "The Union" a music documentary starring Elton John and Leon Russell as they collaborate on their duet album.

The second is George Lucas' eternally gestating World War II action film, "Red Tails," the exploits of the African-American assembled Tuskegee Airmen starring Cuba Gooding Jr. and Terrence Howard. Intriguing me even more about this project is that the film was directed by Anthony Hemingway, who has helmed several episodes of the extraordinary HBO series "Treme," and the screenplay was written by veteran scribe John Ridley and Aaron McGruder, creator of the brilliant "Boondocks" comic series.

2012 is already running fast out of the gate and I am just trying to keep pace. So, as always and forever more, I'll see you when the house lights go down...

HAPPY 2ND BIRTHDAY TO SAVAGE CINEMA, THANK YOU TO YOU!!

As with last December 30th and the December 30th the year before, I sit in my parent’s basement during a Winter Break visit.

This time, as I write to you, I feel tremendously humbled. I am humbled because this day marks the 2nd birthday of Savage Cinema and despite all of my efforts with the actual writing of each and every word upon this site, Savage Cinema would mean nothing without the continued participation and encouragement by all of you.

I am not able to stress strongly or often enough how important your presence happens to be for me. Typically, when I write and eventually post a new review, there is a tremendous amount of self-satisfaction because I gave myself a project to begin, pour over and complete and that sense of completion carries a sense of gratification inside of me that is just indescribable. As I look back over the two years and the nearly 260 postings that have occurred during that interim, I am amazed as it all feels to be the work of another individual and I do have to almost pinch myself and remind myself that all of these words came from me.

All of that being said, the little voices that always give me pangs of self-doubt keep reminding me that no one could possibly be reading anything that I have written, that no one would have the time or patience to utilize sections of their lives to devote to my ramblings and musings. I know fully well that the world has absolutely, positively, undeniably no need whatsoever for yet another person professing their opinions over anything artistic, let alone the movies. I will never make a dime from this experience, therefore disappointing my Mother who feels that I should somehow turn this site into a lucrative enterprise. And frankly, who cares what I think anyway?

Yes, I do often feel that I am writing inside of a vacuum to which no one else exists and to that end, I have reconciled myself to the idea that I am fulfilling an emotional and artistic need to please myself and prove that I can indeed write something…anything…that speaks to a piece of my soul that has remained as passionate as it was when I was a child of eight years old and saw “Star Wars” on opening night back in 1977, an event which monumentally altered the course of my life. In every review I write, I hope to capture that sense of passionate, almost “out of body” enthusiasm I had when I sat in that movie theater so long ago, mouth complete agape at the sight of an Imperial Star Destroyer engulfing the movie screen. I wish to somehow express the love for the artistry of the movies I have held for so much of my life in an entertaining way, a hopefully intelligent, articulate, artful way as well. Each review is indeed yet another writing exercise of course, but as I just described in my review of “Pearl Jam Twenty,” each review is the act of me, the eternal cinematic fan, jumping around excitedly, telling you about an art form that means the world to me and hopefully, you can see what I see.

But…I must announce to do with as much emotional heft as you are able to gather from these written words, when I see that any of you have taken the time out of all of your extremely busy lives to read anything that I have written, that knowledge lifts my soul. I have conceived of Savage Cinema to be a place where the conversations about film and even life itself could begin here. This site is designed to be a dialogue between me and all of you and while I do feel that I am mostly speaking to myself, I am surprised again and again when someone responds to me, ultimately extending that wished for dialogue one step further. Truthfully and without hyperbole, Savage Cinema could not exist without you. If no one ever responded or cared a whit, my own sense of self-perseverance would undoubtedly only last for a finite period. You give me the strength and inspiration to continue, to keep writing, to soldier onwards and provide for you an experience that I hope is a positive one.

As the third year begins, I pledge to continue to try my absolute best to keep Savage Cinema a place you wouldn’t mind visiting once in a while. I will try my best to keep writing pieces that you feel are well written enough that you would devote your time to reading them. My gratitude is endless and my appreciation for all of you is boundless.

I am Savage Cinema. Savage Cinema is me. Happy Birthday and long may it continue. But, without YOU, it would be meaningless.

Despite the smallness of the following two words, I hope that all of you can gather the fullness of their meaning….

THANK YOU!

HAPPY ANNIVERSARY: a review of "Pearl Jam Twenty"

“PEARL JAM TWENTY”
Written and Directed by Cameron Crowe
*** ½ (three and a half stars)

“If I close my eyes, where am I? What does this music mean?”
-Eddie Vedder

When I close my eyes and remember the alternative rock scene during the 1990’s, I realize more than ever what a precious time that was to be a rock music fan. This feeling has continued to grow steadily, during and since those years, as I was indeed more than a little skeptical of the bands that flooded the airwaves and MTV seemingly out of nowhere. In 1991, I was 22 years old, just out of college and beginning my new adult life. If there has ever been a constant with me, it has been the presence and gift of music. Even moreso than books, writing, and film, music is nothing less than life’s elixir. I don’t read books every single day and I certainly do not watch movies every day either. But, I cannot ever imagine a day where music does not contain its magical pull over my heart and soul. But, in 1991, I definitely gave the alternative music scene, which was so quickly snapped up and mass marketed by the music business and the media, that I was very unsure if what I was hearing was real, or was it all just feedback and attitude all cloaked in copious amounts of flannel.

I remember when I first heard Nirvana. It was perhaps a hair before their world domination and I had to admit that I was immediately struck by the honestly and lack of flash in what I was hearing, in addition to the undeniable intensity. I remember the point in 1994, when my musical spirit began to separate the alternative scene’s wheat from the chaff as the dark musical visions of Nine Inch Nails and The Smashing Pumpkins spoke to me the loudest. And while there were bands whom I eventually began to embrace, Pearl Jam did possess a certain enigmatic status that for some reason, I have never quite wrapped my arms around.

Pearl Jam has always been a band that I have appreciated. But, as I have been even less than a casual fan, I have always felt that this band was indeed the real deal. I liked how they have marched to their own beat seemingly from the very beginning, making up their own set of rules to create music by. While I do love that certain artistic boldness and declaration of autonomy from my favorite musical artists like Prince or Todd Rundgren, for whatever reason, Pearl Jam hasn’t quite spoken directly to me…yet.

Writer/Director Cameron Crowe’s new documentary “Pearl Jam Twenty,” is not only a celebratory film that marks Pearl Jam’s 20th anniversary as a musical unit, the film feels like the act of the ultimate, passionate fan imploring you to try and see what he or she feels about a band that they happen to love so much that it hurts. That is a sentiment to which I can relate to, as I have been that person so many times as I have pestered friends and family to try and see what I see in the art that moves me in the greatest way. Now that I have seen the film, and therefore listened most attentively to Crowe’s impassioned declarations, I can say that “Pearl Jam Twenty” has given me a broader understanding of the rich legacy of Pearl Jam’s music and artistic intents. It is a first rate film that rocks epically and is also as intimate as the best emotional scrapbook.

“Pearl Jam Twenty” opens in 1989 Seattle, as guitarist Stone Gossard and bassist Jeff Ament are already bound together as musical brothers-in-arms in the seminal band Mother Love Bone, which featured the flamboyant and magnetically charismatic Andy Wood as the front man. Just as that band’s musical dreams were ready to take flight, tragedy struck as Wood died from a drug overdose. From those ashes, Gossard and Ament, along with guitarist Mike McCready began to write new songs as they each pondered their respective futures. A demo tape of instrumental tracks eventually found its way to California and into the hands of Eddie Vedder who found himself so inspired that he contributed his vocals to the tracks, sent the tape back to Seattle and wowed Gossard, Ament and McCready in return. Vedder was invited to visit Seattle so the musicians could jam together and after merely six days, a new band was born and playing their first shows to boot!

From this point, “Pearl Jam Twenty” chronicles the band’s overnight success and stratospheric rise into the pop culture mainstream (much to the chagrin of Vedder, who would have preferred a more deliberate pace upwards), their period as MTV mainstays during the early 1990’s, their subsequent battles with Ticketmaster, their collective and individual pressures with sudden fame and their eventual and purposeful retreat from the limelight, a decision the band refers to as “The Birth Of No” and made in order to keep the band focused upon the music instead of the trappings that accompany celebrity. Throughout it all, Cameron Crowe’s “Pearl Jam Twenty” gives us a portrait of a band whose perseverance, tenacity and devotional love of music has served to strengthen their bonds with each other as well as their faithful audience.

With Director James Moll’s solid “Foo Fighters: Back and Forth” and Michael Rapaport’s outstanding “Beats, Rhymes and Life: The Travels Of A Tribe Called Quest,” Cameron Crowe’s “Pearl Jam Twenty” joins the ranks of the extremely impressive music documentaries that are being released these days. With these films, I have found it to be more than fascinating that this crop of documentaries are focused upon musical groups and artists during an age in which seemingly every moment has been documented, unlike music documentaries of the past where archival material was scant at best. I first noticed this particular quality when I saw Director Peter Bogdonavich’s wonderful and epic four hour documentary “Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers: Running Down A Dream” (2007) and “Pearl Jam Twenty” (while only half of that film’s running time) is cut from that same cloth. Cameron Crowe’s film has been culled from reportedly over 1200 hours of material including concert footage, television appearances, home videos, all manner of visual odds and ends plus brand new interviews with all of the members of Pearl Jam plus Soundgarden’s Chris Cornell, a close confidant of the band as well as member of Temple Of The Dog, a one-off band created in tribute to Andy Wood.

Perhaps stemming from his years and experience as a rock music journalist, Crowe is not the least bit intimidated by the extreme wealth of cataloged material. Also, his journalistic and filmmaking skills are not hampered in any way due to his personal closeness with the band, whom he has known since the late 1980s and collaborated with on “Singles” (1992). Crowe is remarkably clear eyed and completely focused in his storytelling, which after a somewhat slow start built into a powerfully resonant and moving film experience that eventually rockets by.

What is obvious from this film is its complete lack of hyperbole and the manufactured drama that marred the old “Behind The Music” series. The film actually works like Pearl Jam’s music: Nothing is prefabricated and everything feels honest and authentic because as Crowe himself states in his brief and warm narration “this was music created by guys who stayed indoors a lot. They had a lot of time to play and a lot of time to listen…and they listened to everything!” Crowe illustrates through this film that Pearl Jam creates music simply for the love of creating music and this film beautifully works in tribute to that creative spirit and to all of the musical heroes that inspired the band members.

Eddie Vedder, even through a documentary feature, shows his magnetic personality. He is a complex figure seen to be quite thoughtful, introspective, very shy and even mercurial yet once on stage, he is unleashed to a nearly completely opposite degree. In one fantastic sequence, scored to the song “Porch,” Crowe strings together a series of concert clips where Vedder took dangerously death defying steps climbing the rafters, lighting rigs and whatever else he could conceivably scale and then, propelling himself into equally death defying leaps into the arms of the adoring crowds below. Of course, these dangerous yet show stopping antics were grudgingly tolerated by the remainder of the band. Yet, despite the differences that exist between Vedder and is Seattle bandmates, their union seemed to be almost divinely ordained as the separate tragedies found in the deaths of Andy Wood and Vedder’s own Father felt symbiotic as if both events were cosmically designed to bring a new destiny into fruition.

This same sense of spiritual intervention also arrived for me during a somber section of the film detailing the tragic deaths of nine concert goers at the June 2000 Roskilde festival held outside of Copenhagen. In addition to all of the band members’ respective periods of existential reflections, a redemptive moment arrived months later when the band revived the track “Crown Of Thorns,” a selection not performed since the demise of Andy Wood and Mother Love Bone. This sequence for me was one of the film’s most stirring as the past and present came together in song, in healing and in hope of carrying onwards towards a new future.

From a musical standpoint, I really believe that one can tell a lot about a band by how they perform on stage. For their entire musical career, for all of their success, Pearl Jam has continuously strived for and proudly consider themselves to be a band that has grown increasingly faceless. This quality plus their decreased presence from public view within the media and my transient interest in the band, I really have not seen very much live footage. Inspired by Director Jeff Stein’s classic rock documentary about The Who entitled “The Kids Are Alright” (1979), Crowe showcases Pearl Jam’s electrifying intensity, superior musicianship (I have to make special mention of Mike McCready’s blindingly stunning guitar solos) combined with the undeniable brotherly love between the band members makes for a enormously rousing musical experience. This footage provided me with an avenue into the band which I have not possessed before viewing this film and I now see them in an entirely new light. Furthermore, now that we are living in an era where concerts exist with Broadway show pyrotechnics and lip synching is not even blinked at in reproach, I feel that a film like this one provides a most necessary antidote to the plastic glossiness of live performance. Pearl Jam’s authenticity should be commended more than ever as each performance never seems to be about the act of just singing songs. It is an act of deliverance.

Even with all of this material which is so vibrantly presented, what makes this film extend beyond an elongated episode of “Behind The Music” are the band members themselves. I enjoyed their camaraderie, their sense of community with other musicians in Seattle and their thankfulness at being granted the opportunity to collectively live the artist’s life. Watching the current interviews with the members of Pearl Jam, I was struck at how much they appear like the people I see everyday and those that I have known throughout my life, an observation that lead me to this film’s larger goals, I think. Pearl Jam and the bands of that era, despite their fame, never really felt as out of reach to me as say The Who or The Beatles. These were the right people making the right music at the right time and for my generation, the unfairly named “Generation X,” the 1990s was undoubtedly and vigorously our time. The members of Pearl Jam came from us. They were, and remain, part of us with our successes, downfalls, life lessons and everything in between jointly shared. The communication between the band and the audience felt entirely symbiotic to me, especially during the climactic performance sections of “Better Man” and the classic “Alive.” For me, I think that Cameron Crowe presented a vision during which every Pearl Jam concert exists one shining moment in time in which we are ALL stars together. That is what the very best music of the 1990s, regardless of genre, delivered to listeners. This was music made by fans for fans, all the while creating sounds and artistic statements that forged new territories while also honoring all that came before.

Even greater than that observation is a topic that is a constant presence in all of Cameron Crowe’s films, including his terrific “We Bought A Zoo”: “Pearl Jam Twenty” is a passionate ode to the state of integrity, how to find it, cultivate it, maintain it against all odds, by any means necessary and even at the risk of alienating your biggest fans because in the end, the band members, as well as this idiosyncratic filmmaker are the only ones walking within the shoes of their lives and they must satisfy their creative spirits above all else. These are people who have been blessed with the talent, drive, persistence and the opportunity to be creative artistic people and they have equally been blessed with the opportunity to build their lives from those blessings. Rightfully and unapologetically, they refuse to squander those blessings.

“Pearl Jam Twenty” is a triumphant film which chronicles how a band came together and has continued to solider onwards despite any and all changes in the musical landscape, carving out a specific place to call their own. In fact, while this is a film about Pearl Jam, this film may be just as autobiographical about Cameron Crowe as his “Almost Famous” (2000). Through Pearl Jam’s artistic life, he speaks of his own.

And to that end, we end up thinking about how we live with integrity within our own lives. To think, all of that plus a booming soundtrack!

SAVAGE POSTSCRIPT:

So, where can you see “Pearl Jam Twenty”? After its nationwide one night only theatrical screening in September and a showing on PBS television’s “American Masters” series in October, the film is now widely available on DVD and Blu-Ray formats as well as through your cable or satellite provider’s On Demand services. This film is a great rock and roll ride, so don’t hesitate to check this film out.

Oh yes…PLAY LOUD!!!!!

TATTOO REDUX: a review of "The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo"

“THE GIRL WITH THE DRAGON TATTOO”
Based upon the novel by Stieg Larsson
Screenplay Written by Steven Zallian
Directed by David Fincher
*** ½ (three and a half stars)

“The time for American audiences to expand their collective cinematic minds is long overdue and I cannot help but to wonder if Hollywood and David Fincher just shouldn’t even bother with the remake. To be fair to all parties involved, I will certainly save any official judgment until December 2011, when this new version has already been scheduled for release. Yet, when we already have a film of such high quality, can’t that just be enough?”

And so, here we are again…

I wrote those opening words of this new review in my July 22, 2010 review of Director Niels Arden Opley’s original Swedish film adaptation of late author Stieg Larsson’s monumental best seller The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo. At that time, news had been announced that filmmaker David Fincher would create his own American adaptation of the same novel as his follow up to his masterful “The Social Network.” (2010) and as you can clearly see, dear readers, I was not terribly enthusiastic about the project. I have more than stated my case against the plethora of movie remakes, re-boots and re-imaginings here upon this site and do not fear, I will not rehash old grievances. But, I have to say that while I certainly did enter David Fincher’s adaptation with a huge amount of skepticism, I exited as a most surprised, pleased film-goer as Fincher’s “The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo” not only stands as one of 2011’s strongest adult thrillers, I was excited to see how magnificently Fincher was able to make this adaptation stand on its own firm cinematic feet. If one is to go ahead and remake a film in such close proximity to the already terrific original, then David Fincher confidently and skillfully educates us all in how to accomplish this tricky feat most successfully.

I want to assure you that it is not due to any amount of laziness that I will not recount the fullness of the film’s plot this time. As it is already housed on this site (just ask, and I’ll point you in the right direction), I will simply provide you with a brief overview. Daniel Craig stars as the crusading investigative reporter Mikael Blomkvist, currently housed within a professional downward spiral as his political magazine “Millennium” faces ruin after Blomkvist’s defeat in a high stakes libel case. Seeking professional redemption, Blomkvist is presented with an intriguing opportunity as he is hired by retired CEO Henrik Vanger (a wonderful Christopher Plummer) to investigate the 40 year disappearance of his niece, Harriet.

Blomkvist’s investigation is soon aided by researcher and computer hacker, the lithe, intensely brooding, leather clad and body pierced Lisbeth Salander (Rooney Mara), a young woman facing down her own demons as she strives to attain a newfound sense of independence and freedom in a harsh, unforgiving and violent world. The twosome form an unlikely yet powerful partnership as their pursuits lead them into a deep web of family secrets, including past ties to the Nazi party, and the wrath of a serial killer, potentially still on the loose.

My original trepidation with David Fincher’s version of “The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo,” regardless of his undeniable talents as a filmmaker, was not based on a question of his skill but more about a question of purpose. I could not figure out exactly what David Fincher could do that was not already achieved in the Swedish film. Well, I have to say that my questions of purpose in regards to this American version were extinguished by the spectacular opening credit sequence scored to Trent Reznor and Karen O.’s version of Led Zeppelin’s “The Immigrant Song.” Where the Swedish film presented the story as a slow burn, whose fullness of effect arrived for me afterwards, David Fincher’s great sequence functioned as nothing less than an anguished howl. The sequence boldly announced to me that this version would exist as a more visceral, aggressive take on the same story, and for the most part, this new version is as successful as the original and in some ways perhaps even a tad better.

First of all, Fincher’s version is faster paced than the original film, which gives the disturbing material a greater sense of urgency and intensity. As with “The Social Network,” Fincher is aided terrifically by a great screenplay by veteran screenwriter Steven Zallian (who also co-wrote this year’s “Moneyball”) who provides sharp, quick dialogue which does help to force the action to reach and maintain a certain velocity.

Beyond that element, and overall, Fincher’s version is indeed a more stylish affair and therefore, more cinematic than the original film, which often felt to function as a realistic docudrama. With Fincher’s trademark meticulous attention to his visual palate provided by Cinematographer Jeff Cronenweth, excellent sound design and the disturbing aid from Trent Reznor and co-composer Atticus Ross’ film score, which surrounds the experience with a chilly dread filled with eerie wind chimes, bells and assortment of dissonant effects, Fincher plunges us into a world which felt to be more claustrophobic and somehow even more distressing than the already grim original version.

Speaking of the film’s grim atmosphere, there was some question as to whether Fincher’s version, arriving from Hollywood, would be a watered down take for a mainstream audience. IO am here to inform you that any of those fears are completely admonished. While Blomkvist is indeed made to be a bit more virtuous by making him less of a womanizer (although he still carries on his love affair with his married editor, played elegantly by Robin Wright) as well as some tender scenes with his teenage daughter, the story’s themes that contain larger and horrific acts of violence all remain intact. The story’s infamous and grisly rape scene remains as does the film’s even grislier sequence of retribution. David Fincher’s “The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo,” like many of his films, exists as a HARD “R” rated motion picture. This is a warning to those of you who may be more sensitive viewers.

In fact, “The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo” works so very well as a David Fincher experience that it could actually work as the third section of an unofficial serial killer trilogy with Fincher’s “Se7en” (1995) as the first part and his epic “Zodiac” (2007) as the second. In fact, all three films share a variety of themes (including biblically themed serial killings plus a procedural and journalistic pursuit of a killer, which grows obsessive to the point of extreme paranoia) which helps the individual works serve as a complete whole. By linking his works together, this new film version is clearly a David Fincher film as it stands nearly as tall as much of his oeuvre. “The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo” is a natural artistic progression while also serving as a forbidding return to familiar material and themes.

As expected from any film directed by David Fincher, all of the performances are excellent and it was a great pleasure to see Stellan Skarsgard, character actor Steven Berkoff, and Joely Richardson along with the aforementioned Christopher Plummer and Robin Wright, each working in peak form. But, of course, and especially to those of you who have seen the Swedish films, the biggest questions lie in the quality of Daniel Craig and Rooney Mara’s performances.

Craig, as expected, is rock solid. With all due respect to Michael Nygard, who wonderfully portrayed Blomkvist in all three of the Swedish films, Daniel Craig seemed to be a perfect fit for any potential American version. While Craig plays the character with a hair more aggressiveness than Nygard, who handled Blomkvist with a more nuanced tone, he carries the weight of a certain beleaguered journalistic weariness perfectly. What’s more, Daniel Craig wisely does not portray Blomkvist as an action hero. I liked how he played upon his age as well, with his ever present reading glasses and moments where he is winded after running. He’s more cinematic but still relatable as a human being.

Of course, all eyes are on Rooney Mara (whom you may remember as the young woman who dumps Mark Zuckerberg at the opening of “The Social Network”) in the title role, especially as Noomi Rapace’s interpretations in the original films are considered (at least by me) to be untouchable. Amazingly, Mara heroically rises to the challenge, and in her own specific way, she owns the role of Lisbeth Salander upon first sight. There is absolutely noting tentative about Mara’s commitment to this role, and nor should there be, as this is Mara’s moment to shine. She goes for it full throttle so much so that she nearly gives Noomi Rapace a run for her money!

As with Daniel Craig, as well as the entire film as a whole, Rooney Mara creates a more aggressive, rage fueled and again, cinematic heft to the character where Rapace’s performance was more realistically tormented and tenacious. In some respects, Mara’s Lisbeth Salander at times appears to be like a character from an adult graphic novel. This is by no means a criticism, as the character does lend herself to existing as a real person as well as the archetype of an avenging angel. I loved how Rooney Mara played Lisbeth as a caged animal, sol to speak. Her violent reactions function s at the speed of a whip crack, when cornered her fury is palpable and when it is time for revenge, her methods are almost robotic in their methodology. Yet, throughout it all, Mara never sacrifices Lisbeth Salander’s humanity, always giving the character our empathy and ultimate rooting interest. It is rare to be an actor or actress’s first starring performance given with such forcefulness, but with this portrayal, Rooney Mara richly deserves all of the acclaim she is receiving and shows that she is indeed an actress to watch closely as she definitely has the goods.

Even with all of this praise, not everything works entirely well. I have to say that I did not care for the sequence where Blomkvist and Lisbeth meet for the first time as it felt to be a tad emotionally false to me. Blomkvist seemed to be too dominant and Lisbeth too submissive considering everything we had seen to this point.

I will also say that despite the overall intensity, there were a few points (notably the section after the climax) where this film did tend to drag, just as it did with the original film. Perhaps that is just the nature of this first installment, especially as I really enjoyed the second and third parts even more than this one.

I also had problems with the film’s ending, which is indeed faithful to the original novel. Somehow, I am remembering the Swedish film’s conclusion resonating with more of an emotional ambivalence that felt to be truthful to everything the characters had experienced, especially towards each other. This new version’s ending seemed to tread a tad too far into…shall we say…romantic heartbreak, a feeling that just didn’t gel well enough with all of the preceding turmoil, despair and violence.

Those quibbles aside, “The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo” is another triumph for David Fincher who smartly found the overall purpose in creating a new adaptation of this story. The best thing that I can say about this film is that the new version is not attempting in any way to wipe the original version from viewer’s minds or discourage anyone from seeing it at all. The films are not in competition with each other. In fact, I think the two films work well together as dark twins.

Utilizing a more musical descriptive, first noted by Writer/Director Cameron Crowe in describing the differences between his “Vanilla Sky" (2001), itself a remake of Writer/Director Alejandro Amenabar’s terrific Spanish film “Abre Los Ojos” (1997), I think the two versions of “The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo” work in a very similar way. The Swedish film is a disturbingly haunting folk song where the American version is the industrial rock cover version.

And man, does this film roar!