"I was a well-fed, middle-class kid who came from good parents; I've got no material." Those words, spoken by Sam the writer, are just one example of how Josh Radnor blurs the lines between writer and character in his debut film, happythankyoumoreplease.
In it, we follow the lives of a few late-20s/early-30s bachelors and bachelorettes in New York City, a place Radnor portrays endearingly. Sam (played by Radnor) is a cynical writer desperately trying to sell one of his short stories. His best friend Anne (Malin Akerman) can't seem to stop dating the wrong guys. His cousin Mary (Zoe Kazan) is pressured by her boyfriend to go to Los Angeles (a city she loathes) and leave New York (the city she calls home). Along the way we meet all sorts of characters, including Rasheen, a "young black child" who, after shuffling through several foster families, has no home.
Sam takes Rasheen in for awhile, at least until he can figure out what to do with him. Anne accuses him of using the boy for material, but it's more complicated than that. Although we've seen the little-kid-sidekick device before, it's so lightheartedly entertaining here that we really don't care. Michael Algieri's debut as Rasheen will steal your heart.
I have yet to mention Mississippi, a bartender/cabaret singer, played by the lovely Kate Mara, who serves as Sam's romantic conflict. They hit it off quickly, possibly too quickly, and we wonder if they've met at the wrong time. Regardless, their interactions are the most cringe-worthy of the film (see: "let's clean each other up" and "you write short stories, I'm ready for the novel").
On the other hand, great music from Jaymay kept me in tune with the film's title. It serves as a narrative soundtrack for happythankyoumoreplease and gives it an indie feel (the film won the Audience Award for Best Drama at Sundance).
Although at times cheesy and clichéd, Radnor's debut tells an epigrammatic story about characters we genuinely care about. Sam's not delivering a profound revelation when he says "every five years I realize what an asshole I was five years ago." Yet the inherent modesty in that statement says a lot about Radnor's work.
3/4
Saturday, January 29, 2011
Sunday, April 11, 2010
The New World - Review
I normally don't do too well with sprawling three hour epics. My butt, bladder, and attention span are rarely up to the task. Terrence Malick's The New World
is a beautiful exception. In it, Malick tells the familiar story of Pocahontas (Q'orianka Kilcher), Captain Smith (Colin Farrell), and John Rolfe (Christian Bale) in such a profound way that you'll swear you're seeing it for the first time. The photography, the score, the editing, the unflinching direction, and the breathtaking debut performance of a 14 year old Q'orianka Kilcher make the 172 minute runtime of Malick's extended cut a nonissue.
I'll start with the photography–the original reason I picked up The New World. I first learned about Emmanuel Lubezki's naturalistic cinematography on an internet forum. By "naturalistic cinematography" I mean that the film crew used no artificial lighting. Their key light was the sun, its natural reflections their fill. Some say it's experimental and arty, I say it fits the film perfectly. One thing's for sure, The New World is a sight to behold, especially on larger screens.
James Horner's score, mixed with pieces of music from the likes of Wagner and Mozart, supplement Lubezki's images well. Often prominent, but never calling attention to itself, the music plays an important role in setting the tone of The New World.
The film credits four editors, two of whom are A.C.E., and there may have been a couple more hands on the job. Like the photography, the editing of The New World is anything but conventional. Jump cuts often move things along and we rarely see a traditionally blocked scene.
Of course, the set design, costume design, sound design, and every other aspect of filmmaking are top notch in The New World. But all of these things come down to Malick's direction, which I described earlier as "unflinching." Make no doubt about it, what you see on screen is Malick's vision come to life, with a complete disregard for the cookie cutter that so many writer/directors must force their dough through.
Although "The New World" obviously refers to the one that English settlers found across the pond, Malick primarily focuses his story on Pocahontas and the New World she discovers through Captain Smith, John Rolfe, and, ultimately, herself. Who would have thought that a little choir member from How the Grinch Stole Christmas would be able to, in her first lead role, step up and carry the film through her performance as Pocahontas? I suppose it makes sense that the 14 year old Kilcher could convey Pocahontas' sense of wide-eyed innocence, but what's astonishing is how she pulls us into her thoughts and emotions with the knack of an actress with twice her age and experience. Towards the end of the film, when Pocahontas is faced with choosing between two men, Kilcher forms a smile that not only lights up the screen, but also illuminates our understanding of her inner emotions.
After all this praise, I suppose I better say that The New World may not be for everyone. The extended cut's three hour runtime may seem a little long and drawn-out for some. It's also considered "arty" and "experimental," but don't let that discourage you. The New World has everything that makes a movie great. It is beautifully photographed, wonderfully scored, and masterfully edited. Terrence Malick sees his visionary film all the way through and gets outstanding performances from his cast along the way. Although Colin Farrell, Christian Bale, and Christopher Plummer (playing an English Captain) are all great, the young Q'orianka Kilcher steals the show as Pocahontas.
4/4
is a beautiful exception. In it, Malick tells the familiar story of Pocahontas (Q'orianka Kilcher), Captain Smith (Colin Farrell), and John Rolfe (Christian Bale) in such a profound way that you'll swear you're seeing it for the first time. The photography, the score, the editing, the unflinching direction, and the breathtaking debut performance of a 14 year old Q'orianka Kilcher make the 172 minute runtime of Malick's extended cut a nonissue.
I'll start with the photography–the original reason I picked up The New World. I first learned about Emmanuel Lubezki's naturalistic cinematography on an internet forum. By "naturalistic cinematography" I mean that the film crew used no artificial lighting. Their key light was the sun, its natural reflections their fill. Some say it's experimental and arty, I say it fits the film perfectly. One thing's for sure, The New World is a sight to behold, especially on larger screens.
James Horner's score, mixed with pieces of music from the likes of Wagner and Mozart, supplement Lubezki's images well. Often prominent, but never calling attention to itself, the music plays an important role in setting the tone of The New World.
The film credits four editors, two of whom are A.C.E., and there may have been a couple more hands on the job. Like the photography, the editing of The New World is anything but conventional. Jump cuts often move things along and we rarely see a traditionally blocked scene.
Of course, the set design, costume design, sound design, and every other aspect of filmmaking are top notch in The New World. But all of these things come down to Malick's direction, which I described earlier as "unflinching." Make no doubt about it, what you see on screen is Malick's vision come to life, with a complete disregard for the cookie cutter that so many writer/directors must force their dough through.
Although "The New World" obviously refers to the one that English settlers found across the pond, Malick primarily focuses his story on Pocahontas and the New World she discovers through Captain Smith, John Rolfe, and, ultimately, herself. Who would have thought that a little choir member from How the Grinch Stole Christmas would be able to, in her first lead role, step up and carry the film through her performance as Pocahontas? I suppose it makes sense that the 14 year old Kilcher could convey Pocahontas' sense of wide-eyed innocence, but what's astonishing is how she pulls us into her thoughts and emotions with the knack of an actress with twice her age and experience. Towards the end of the film, when Pocahontas is faced with choosing between two men, Kilcher forms a smile that not only lights up the screen, but also illuminates our understanding of her inner emotions.
After all this praise, I suppose I better say that The New World may not be for everyone. The extended cut's three hour runtime may seem a little long and drawn-out for some. It's also considered "arty" and "experimental," but don't let that discourage you. The New World has everything that makes a movie great. It is beautifully photographed, wonderfully scored, and masterfully edited. Terrence Malick sees his visionary film all the way through and gets outstanding performances from his cast along the way. Although Colin Farrell, Christian Bale, and Christopher Plummer (playing an English Captain) are all great, the young Q'orianka Kilcher steals the show as Pocahontas.
4/4
Friday, March 19, 2010
The Visuals of The Hurt Locker
Disclaimer: This review has some spoilers. You should probably watch the movie before reading this.
The first time I saw The Hurt Locker I paid more attention to my brand new surround sound than I did the movie itself. It wasn't a complete waste of two hours; the film's Academy Awards for sound design and sound editing are well deserved. The Hurt Locker has so much more worth seeing, however. After watching the film for a second time with open eyes, I felt compelled to write a review focusing on its outstanding visuals.
The first visual symbol that I remember seeing (and believe me, there are many that I have forgotten about or missed) was the flies on the eyes of the sniper and spotter of both sides of the shootout towards the middle of the movie. The fly doesn't discriminate. There are two human beings, neither of whom's life is more important that the others.
In that same scene, we see an empty shell-casing falling unnaturally to the ground contrasted with a naturally occurring sand cyclone. We are drawn to the sight of the swirling desert cyclone. We are equally attracted to the visual of the manmade shell falling lifelessly to the ground. The cyclone is natural; the shell is not. War is not natural.
Another striking visual was of the protagonist Staff Sergeant William James sitting alone in his room late at night putting on his bomb suit helmet. He is physically and emotionally shut-off from everything–not only in the world back home, but everyone and everything around him at war.
The tanker explosion scene that takes place at night reminded me of Kubrick's Full Metal Jacket as the soldiers walked through a fire-drenched hellscape. Shortly after that, when Specialist Eldridge gets shot in the leg by SS James, I was reminded of the "Humpty Dumpty" nursery rhyme. The physical injury of his femur being shattered in 9 places mirrors the mental break from the post traumatic stress disorder that is sure to follow him. And all the king's horses and all the king's men...
Through a combination of handheld camerawork and Academy Award winning editing, The Hurt Locker does an excellent job of putting us in the middle of war. As the three soldiers clear a building room-by-room, we sit at the edge of our seats and peek around corners with them. We feel as alienated as Staff Sergeant James does as he walks through the corporate-painted supermarket to the sound of satirical elevator music. How trivial our lives seem when the toughest choice we face is what brand of cereal to buy.
It is SS James's alienation that leads the film to its ending that, foreshadowed by the opening Chris Hedges quote, ends the only way it can.
These few short paragraphs give only a glimpse into what a great film The Hurt Locker really is. The nail-biting opening scene gives us a good idea of how well shot, designed, and edited Kathryn Bigelow's masterpiece is from beginning to end. To top it all off, we're left with three equally intriguing character studies by the time the credits roll. I'm quite interested in seeing how this one plays ten years down the road.
4/4
The first time I saw The Hurt Locker I paid more attention to my brand new surround sound than I did the movie itself. It wasn't a complete waste of two hours; the film's Academy Awards for sound design and sound editing are well deserved. The Hurt Locker has so much more worth seeing, however. After watching the film for a second time with open eyes, I felt compelled to write a review focusing on its outstanding visuals.
The first visual symbol that I remember seeing (and believe me, there are many that I have forgotten about or missed) was the flies on the eyes of the sniper and spotter of both sides of the shootout towards the middle of the movie. The fly doesn't discriminate. There are two human beings, neither of whom's life is more important that the others.
In that same scene, we see an empty shell-casing falling unnaturally to the ground contrasted with a naturally occurring sand cyclone. We are drawn to the sight of the swirling desert cyclone. We are equally attracted to the visual of the manmade shell falling lifelessly to the ground. The cyclone is natural; the shell is not. War is not natural.
Another striking visual was of the protagonist Staff Sergeant William James sitting alone in his room late at night putting on his bomb suit helmet. He is physically and emotionally shut-off from everything–not only in the world back home, but everyone and everything around him at war.
The tanker explosion scene that takes place at night reminded me of Kubrick's Full Metal Jacket as the soldiers walked through a fire-drenched hellscape. Shortly after that, when Specialist Eldridge gets shot in the leg by SS James, I was reminded of the "Humpty Dumpty" nursery rhyme. The physical injury of his femur being shattered in 9 places mirrors the mental break from the post traumatic stress disorder that is sure to follow him. And all the king's horses and all the king's men...
Through a combination of handheld camerawork and Academy Award winning editing, The Hurt Locker does an excellent job of putting us in the middle of war. As the three soldiers clear a building room-by-room, we sit at the edge of our seats and peek around corners with them. We feel as alienated as Staff Sergeant James does as he walks through the corporate-painted supermarket to the sound of satirical elevator music. How trivial our lives seem when the toughest choice we face is what brand of cereal to buy.
It is SS James's alienation that leads the film to its ending that, foreshadowed by the opening Chris Hedges quote, ends the only way it can.
These few short paragraphs give only a glimpse into what a great film The Hurt Locker really is. The nail-biting opening scene gives us a good idea of how well shot, designed, and edited Kathryn Bigelow's masterpiece is from beginning to end. To top it all off, we're left with three equally intriguing character studies by the time the credits roll. I'm quite interested in seeing how this one plays ten years down the road.
4/4
Saturday, January 23, 2010
To Conan: "forget the wax and feathers, and do a better job on the wings"
There has been a lot written about the current NBC/Conan/Leno debacle so I won't go into detail about the situation and where it's currently at and possibly going. I do, however, have one piece of advice, from the great Stanley Kubrick, to give to Conan. The following comes from Kubrick's 1998 D.W. Griffith Award acceptance speech:
Griffith was always ready to take tremendous risks in his films and in his business affairs. He was always ready to fly too high. And in the end, the wings of fortune proved, for him, like those of Icarus, to be made of nothing more substantial than wax and feathers. And like Icarus, when he flew too close to the sun, they melted, and the man whose fame exceeded the most illustrious filmmakers of today, spent the last 17 years of his life shunned by the film industry he had created.You've already dropped the wax and feathers. It's time for some new wings.
I've compared Griffith's career to the Icarus myth, but at the same time I have never been certain whether the moral of the Icarus story should only be, as is generally accepted, 'don't try to fly too high,' or whether it might also be thought of as 'forget the wax and feathers, and do a better job on the wings.'
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