Despite its simplicity, there's something magnetic about silent film. We're so used to watching movies with sound, that some people don't realize that the non-talkies have their own splendor to them. When you watch a silent film, you can't help but think about how far movies have come today, and that what you're watching was a beginning stage of one of our most cherished forms of storytelling. It was a radiant and elegant era of cinematic triumph.
It seems like one of the more popular aspects in film this season is the art of early moviemaking. We witnessed it in beautiful detail in Martin Scorsese's Hugo. Now, we get to live it again in The Artist, director Michel Hazanavicius's tribute to the age of silent film. It has the feel of a lost treasure that has only just been dug up from classical Hollywood. This movie presents a rare viewing opportunity that hasn't been experienced on the big screen since the late 1920s.
George Valentin (Jean Dujardin) is a silent movie star in 1927 Hollywood, who works for Kinograph Studios. While basking in the camera flashes and paparazzi after the premiere of his latest film, he bumps into Peppy Miller (Berenice Bejo), a young woman with big dreams of becoming famous. The two quickly become the new celebrity couple. After appearing as an extra in several films, Peppy eventually becomes the next big thing in Hollywood, with the help of George. Two years later, studio boss Al Zimmer (John Goodman) announces that talking pictures are the next big thing, and silent film is on its way out. Not wanting to get on board with this idea, George decides to make his own silent films. As Peppy keeps gaining stardom in talking movies, George's relevance in Hollywood begins to decline; and he now must figure out how to keep himself going in the midst of changes in show business.
The cast establishes that one such as this in a silent film can be as powerfully expressive as a cast in a talking film. Jean Dujardin is the latest and certainly most welcome of European actor/actress imports. He is very well like an incarnation of the iconic Charlie Chaplin, returning us to the glory that was early Hollywood. He is a smooth and debonair showman who knows how to "wow" his crowds of adoring fans. Dujardin captures the energy that actors applied to tell the story to the audience back then with the absence of talking. He showcases little touches of his character that truly stick out: his movie-star mustached smile, his joking and playful manner and the small things he does to irritate his wife at the breakfast table. He is extraordinarily communicative with how he acts without sound.
Of course, every leading man needs a leading lady, and Berenice Bejo fulfills the criteria splendidly. She is achingly luminous as the film's star-on-the-rise. Bejo's character receives her 15 minutes of fame by having her chance encounter with Valentin published in the morning paper; but those 15 minutes soon turn into starring roles and magazine covers, and Bejo prevails in her character arc. What starts out as having bit parts in films soon brings her to top billing, which is undoubtedly a reflection of Bejo's big break amongst American audiences with this role. Bejo accomplishes with presenting Peppy in such a way that transports us back to early-20th century Hollywood where actresses carried themselves with grace and dignity. The poise and modishness that she puts into the role of Peppy assures the audience that her character has a dazzling future in show business, and so does Bejo.
Alongside the suave showman and the stunning starlet is a company of distinct personalities. There is John Goodman as the cigar-smoking Hollywood studio bigwig, James Cromwell as Valentin's devoted chauffeur, Penelope Ann Miller as Valentin's neglected and frustrated wife and Missi Pyle as one of George's annoyed co-stars. But before walking into The Artist, one of the most memorable characters was not who I anticipated. It was Uggie, Valentin's well-trained Jack Russell Terrier. He is forever loyal to his human companion, whether it's being in Valentin's movies or saving his life.
The set design by Laurence Bennett and Robert Gould carries the audience back to what can be perceived as a lost world of an art form in its blossoming into something grand. The film studio depicted throughout the story saturates with the magical process of filmmaking which was, and still is, the essence of Hollywood. One of the more prominent set pieces is that of the old-fashioned movie theater, especially in the opening scene. It's a considerably large theater, complete with a mezzanine and pit orchestra that accompanies the latest George Valentin movie that's playing. This takes you from the experience of watching The Artist in your contemporary multiplex, and places you with the audience in the film. This results in a shared experience of watching the work of the story's Hollywood icon.
Michel Hazanavicius's screenplay takes the "star is born" premise and cleverly pairs it with the other birth of the story, which is that of sound in film. Besides being a throwback to early Hollywood, the film is also a testament to the grueling challenge of trying to remain in the spotlight, despite the endless flow of Hollywood hopefuls and their dreams of becoming famous. Both plot points place George in a painful fight to preserve his relevance in the industry. As the fame skyrockets for the girl he helped make a name for herself, his fame slowly declines as he refuses to work without silent film. It is, however, an endlessly uplifting journey of a man who doesn't want anything more than to live his life in front of the camera, and provide his fans with escapist screen adventures. The Artist is black and white, but it's supremely colorful. It's silent, but it will have you talking.
Final grade: A
Saturday, January 21, 2012
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
It's Time To Grow Up
We open on a tall apartment building. Inside, the camera hovers over a bedroom with the television still on, and a young woman sprawled out on her bed, looking like she's recovering from a night of one-too-many. It looks down on her, almost like a person hanging their head in shame at what this woman has become. She eventually awakens, feeds her dog, feeds herself, plays a video game, and then sits at her computer. There is the ambiance of the character's feeling of "I don't have anything else better going on today." This is 37-year-old Mavis Gary. She is stuck in a rut, and has some serious growing up to do.
In director Jason Reitman's arrested-development comedy, Young Adult, he focuses on a woman who refuses to mature with those around her, and who goes about life as a brat who thinks she entitled to whatever she wants. This film is her wake-up call, a darkly funny story about what it means to cast away childish and high school antics, and to finally become an adult.
Mavis Gary (Charlize Theron) was the admired girl in high school, and it seemed like everything would come easy for her. But now, her life doesn't seem to be going anywhere. She lives in a dreary apartment, with only her dog as a companion. Mavis is a writer of teen literature, and was once doing well with her book series, which is about a popular girl in her high school years. She is now writing the last book, due to her audience's decreased interest. Mavis has so far lived her life with almost nothing to show for it. She then receives an invitation to a party in her hometown for her ex-boyfriend Buddy's (Patrick Wilson) and his wife Beth's (Elizabeth Reaser) newborn baby. Determined to win Buddy back and continue where they left off in high school, Mavis accepts the invite. Once she arrives, Mavis will do what she can to sabotage their marriage and rekindle her past relationship.
Charlize Theron is ideal as the girl that you once both secretly loathed and envied in high school. She is flirtatious with men and expects them to simply fall for her. Her character is a person who once had everything going for her, but is now hopelessly empty. She is a compulsive liar, telling her ex-boyfriend that she is back in town for real estate matters, when in fact, she's there to get him back; and she sits alone at a restaurant table, typing random letters in her phone to make people think she's texting someone. Mavis is intriguing in the way how she is someone who you would want to distance yourself from, but one who you can weirdly relate to, in the way that we all need to face adulthood eventually.
Patton Oswalt's role, as a former high school classmate of Mavis's, is her voice of reason. She constantly rebuffs his helpful advice; but he's always there to try and steer her in the right direction, even if she still goes into inappropriate territory. Oswalt's character wasn't in Mavis's inner circle in school, so it's ironically interesting to see these two different people suddenly come back into each other's lives.
Screenwriter Diablo Cody, who first collaborated with Reitman for his 2007 film Juno, returns to pen the script. Just like her other movies, she employs hip, comical and quotable dialogue. Cody seems to specialize in writing memorable lines for the teenage characters whom are normally at the center of her movie scripts, such as in Juno and 2009's Jennifer's Body. But having Mavis as her main character seems proper, seeing as she is an adult with a teenage soul. Diablo Cody writes Mavis in a way that makes you question what exactly her deal is. We don't know why she acts out the way she does. But once you find out the true influence behind her behavior, it's unexpected and heartbreaking.
Diablo Cody makes clever use of narration throughout the film. Whenever we see Mavis typing her book, we hear what she's writing down. What she's writing for her book very closely resembles what she is living through. The fantasy that Mavis is putting to paper is the one that she desperately clings to in real life.
Jason Reitman, as with his other films, uses comedy when dealing with real world issues. He did it with the tobacco industry in 2005's Thank You for Smoking, teen pregnancies in Juno and the current recession in 2009's Up in the Air. Now, in Young Adult, he concentrates on the reluctance that people have towards growing up and moving on with life. He brings Mavis through a world where everyone is changing, but she stays the same. What's fun about her character is that Reitman directs Theron to have her act in ways that could divide audiences on whether or not Mavis is likable. In the end, it's up to us how we accept her. Mavis Gary might not have been someone to sign your yearbook in high school, but that doesn't mean you should ignore her relevant, witty and coming-of-age tale.
Final grade: A
In director Jason Reitman's arrested-development comedy, Young Adult, he focuses on a woman who refuses to mature with those around her, and who goes about life as a brat who thinks she entitled to whatever she wants. This film is her wake-up call, a darkly funny story about what it means to cast away childish and high school antics, and to finally become an adult.
Mavis Gary (Charlize Theron) was the admired girl in high school, and it seemed like everything would come easy for her. But now, her life doesn't seem to be going anywhere. She lives in a dreary apartment, with only her dog as a companion. Mavis is a writer of teen literature, and was once doing well with her book series, which is about a popular girl in her high school years. She is now writing the last book, due to her audience's decreased interest. Mavis has so far lived her life with almost nothing to show for it. She then receives an invitation to a party in her hometown for her ex-boyfriend Buddy's (Patrick Wilson) and his wife Beth's (Elizabeth Reaser) newborn baby. Determined to win Buddy back and continue where they left off in high school, Mavis accepts the invite. Once she arrives, Mavis will do what she can to sabotage their marriage and rekindle her past relationship.
Charlize Theron is ideal as the girl that you once both secretly loathed and envied in high school. She is flirtatious with men and expects them to simply fall for her. Her character is a person who once had everything going for her, but is now hopelessly empty. She is a compulsive liar, telling her ex-boyfriend that she is back in town for real estate matters, when in fact, she's there to get him back; and she sits alone at a restaurant table, typing random letters in her phone to make people think she's texting someone. Mavis is intriguing in the way how she is someone who you would want to distance yourself from, but one who you can weirdly relate to, in the way that we all need to face adulthood eventually.
Patton Oswalt's role, as a former high school classmate of Mavis's, is her voice of reason. She constantly rebuffs his helpful advice; but he's always there to try and steer her in the right direction, even if she still goes into inappropriate territory. Oswalt's character wasn't in Mavis's inner circle in school, so it's ironically interesting to see these two different people suddenly come back into each other's lives.
Screenwriter Diablo Cody, who first collaborated with Reitman for his 2007 film Juno, returns to pen the script. Just like her other movies, she employs hip, comical and quotable dialogue. Cody seems to specialize in writing memorable lines for the teenage characters whom are normally at the center of her movie scripts, such as in Juno and 2009's Jennifer's Body. But having Mavis as her main character seems proper, seeing as she is an adult with a teenage soul. Diablo Cody writes Mavis in a way that makes you question what exactly her deal is. We don't know why she acts out the way she does. But once you find out the true influence behind her behavior, it's unexpected and heartbreaking.
Diablo Cody makes clever use of narration throughout the film. Whenever we see Mavis typing her book, we hear what she's writing down. What she's writing for her book very closely resembles what she is living through. The fantasy that Mavis is putting to paper is the one that she desperately clings to in real life.
Jason Reitman, as with his other films, uses comedy when dealing with real world issues. He did it with the tobacco industry in 2005's Thank You for Smoking, teen pregnancies in Juno and the current recession in 2009's Up in the Air. Now, in Young Adult, he concentrates on the reluctance that people have towards growing up and moving on with life. He brings Mavis through a world where everyone is changing, but she stays the same. What's fun about her character is that Reitman directs Theron to have her act in ways that could divide audiences on whether or not Mavis is likable. In the end, it's up to us how we accept her. Mavis Gary might not have been someone to sign your yearbook in high school, but that doesn't mean you should ignore her relevant, witty and coming-of-age tale.
Final grade: A
Saturday, January 14, 2012
A Tale Of An Orphan, As Told By Scorsese
We are first introduced to Hugo as he travels through the nooks and crannies of a Parisian train station to operate the different clocks throughout. While doing so, we are given the gift to view a long take of him running through the labyrinthine tunnels, going from one level to another, from one clock to another. There isn't any dialogue. There's just a young boy as he goes through his day-to-day routine. Traveling with him through the inner workings of the train station provides a childlike feeling of exploration. That, however, is just the start to the magic of adventure and discovery that enchants every frame.
In Hugo, based on Brian Selznick's 2007 novel The Inventions of Hugo Cabret, director Martin Scorsese steps out of his more gritty storytelling, and takes a bold dive into a dramatic piece of children's cinema. Despite the source material, the film's serious tone dictates that Scorsese wasn't going to make this just for a younger audience, most of whom are probably going to be newly introduced to this prolific filmmaker by experiencing Hugo. He has shown that he can reach another demographic, while still retaining his already-dedicated fans.
It's 1931 in Paris, and young Hugo Cabret (Asa Butterfield) lives with his clockmaking father (Jude Law), and his mother has been dead for several years. After his father perishes in a museum fire, Hugo is taken in by his alcoholic uncle Claude (Ray Winstone), who has the job of working the clocks in a train station, where they both now live. After his uncle walks out on him, Hugo is officially an orphan, and is left to fend for himself. His main goal is to fix an automaton, a mechanical man, that he and his father had been trying to restore, believing that the repaired machine will reveal a message left by his father. After he meets a gruff toyshop owner (Ben Kingsley), and his goddaughter Isabelle (Chloe Grace Moretz), Hugo feels that the two can help him unlock the secret behind the automaton; and therefore, lead to a life-changing adventure.
Seeing Butterfield and Moretz trek through the train station and walk the streets of Paris reminds the viewer of the pleasure in exploring as a child, always keen on finding curious places. With the powerful friendship these two characters have, the connection the actors share feels so genuine.
You could sense the magnitude of their importance for each other when Hugo finds that Isabelle possesses a key that could activate the renewed automaton. But it goes beyond the key and the automaton. These two need each other to help discover their purposes in life. There's a scene where Hugo and Isabelle look out at a bustling City of Lights from a clock in the upper levels of the station, something he has done many times before. He tells her, "I'd imagine the whole world as one big machine. Machines never come with any extra parts, you know. They always come with the exact amount they need. So I figured, if the entire world is one big machine, I couldn't be an extra part. I had to be here for some reason." They are here to help each other, and others, achieve their dreams. Their intertwined destinies in the story is a perfect reinforcement for how well Butterfield and Moretz work together.
Every scene with Ben Kingsley is permeated by an air of mystery. As the reserved and irritable toy store owner Papa Georges, his first encounter with Hugo hints at some significant, and maybe painful, secrets that have been on his mind for a good deal of time. I regretfully can't reveal more of his interesting character, since doing so would result in some spoilers. Sacha Baron Cohen is amusingly eccentric as a bumbling station inspector who always manages to make a fool of himself. Christopher Lee makes a warm appearance as a generous bookstore owner.
Hugo taps into the art, history and magic of early moviemaking. In a flashback sequence, we get transported to a time where movies were just beginning to take flight. We see a group of people watching a short film, by the Lumiere brothers, of a train arriving in a station. Having never seen a movie before, the audience recoils in fright for a second, thinking the train is going to come out of the screen. This scene is an ideal fit for this film, since the 3D technology heightens the sense of the trains coming at you in several shots of the train station scenes. Hugo is one of those rare films since 2009's Avatar where 3D benefits the story and enhances the viewing experience. I could go into greater detail of how the process of moviemaking is pivotal in the story; but alas, it would cause some spoilers.
Screenwriter John Logan seamlessly places important life lessons and some enthralling history into the film's character development and plot. What the characters ask and learn about concerning their places in the world is reflected back to the audience, with the question of our own significance in the world having, without a doubt, crossed our minds several times. The times gone by of early films that are presented to us brim with a rich sensation of wonderment as you can't help but think of how far movies have evolved since then. John Logan also peppers the film with some charming little vignettes of Parisian life inside the train station. There is Sacha Baron Cohen's character trying to get the attention of a florist (Emily Mortimer); and a random man and woman who try to strike up a conversation with each other on numerous occasions, only to have the man barked away by the woman's dog.
With the fine art of early moviemaking playing an important role in the film, it's easier said than done to picture a more appropriate director to be paired with Hugo than Martin Scorsese. Having him take charge of this film shows the audience how passionate he is about what he does, and that a love for cinema forever flourishes within him. This passion is shown in a scene where Hugo and Isabelle sneak into a movie theater to watch a silent film. As they are viewing it, pure captivation takes hold of them, and this is exactly what the director had me feel while watching this miraculous tale unfold. With a film like Hugo, Mr. Scorsese shares his deep adoration for movies, and attests that there is never a shortage of joy when watching them. That is the finest gift a filmmaker can give to the viewer.
Final grade: A
In Hugo, based on Brian Selznick's 2007 novel The Inventions of Hugo Cabret, director Martin Scorsese steps out of his more gritty storytelling, and takes a bold dive into a dramatic piece of children's cinema. Despite the source material, the film's serious tone dictates that Scorsese wasn't going to make this just for a younger audience, most of whom are probably going to be newly introduced to this prolific filmmaker by experiencing Hugo. He has shown that he can reach another demographic, while still retaining his already-dedicated fans.
It's 1931 in Paris, and young Hugo Cabret (Asa Butterfield) lives with his clockmaking father (Jude Law), and his mother has been dead for several years. After his father perishes in a museum fire, Hugo is taken in by his alcoholic uncle Claude (Ray Winstone), who has the job of working the clocks in a train station, where they both now live. After his uncle walks out on him, Hugo is officially an orphan, and is left to fend for himself. His main goal is to fix an automaton, a mechanical man, that he and his father had been trying to restore, believing that the repaired machine will reveal a message left by his father. After he meets a gruff toyshop owner (Ben Kingsley), and his goddaughter Isabelle (Chloe Grace Moretz), Hugo feels that the two can help him unlock the secret behind the automaton; and therefore, lead to a life-changing adventure.
Seeing Butterfield and Moretz trek through the train station and walk the streets of Paris reminds the viewer of the pleasure in exploring as a child, always keen on finding curious places. With the powerful friendship these two characters have, the connection the actors share feels so genuine.
You could sense the magnitude of their importance for each other when Hugo finds that Isabelle possesses a key that could activate the renewed automaton. But it goes beyond the key and the automaton. These two need each other to help discover their purposes in life. There's a scene where Hugo and Isabelle look out at a bustling City of Lights from a clock in the upper levels of the station, something he has done many times before. He tells her, "I'd imagine the whole world as one big machine. Machines never come with any extra parts, you know. They always come with the exact amount they need. So I figured, if the entire world is one big machine, I couldn't be an extra part. I had to be here for some reason." They are here to help each other, and others, achieve their dreams. Their intertwined destinies in the story is a perfect reinforcement for how well Butterfield and Moretz work together.
Every scene with Ben Kingsley is permeated by an air of mystery. As the reserved and irritable toy store owner Papa Georges, his first encounter with Hugo hints at some significant, and maybe painful, secrets that have been on his mind for a good deal of time. I regretfully can't reveal more of his interesting character, since doing so would result in some spoilers. Sacha Baron Cohen is amusingly eccentric as a bumbling station inspector who always manages to make a fool of himself. Christopher Lee makes a warm appearance as a generous bookstore owner.
Hugo taps into the art, history and magic of early moviemaking. In a flashback sequence, we get transported to a time where movies were just beginning to take flight. We see a group of people watching a short film, by the Lumiere brothers, of a train arriving in a station. Having never seen a movie before, the audience recoils in fright for a second, thinking the train is going to come out of the screen. This scene is an ideal fit for this film, since the 3D technology heightens the sense of the trains coming at you in several shots of the train station scenes. Hugo is one of those rare films since 2009's Avatar where 3D benefits the story and enhances the viewing experience. I could go into greater detail of how the process of moviemaking is pivotal in the story; but alas, it would cause some spoilers.
Screenwriter John Logan seamlessly places important life lessons and some enthralling history into the film's character development and plot. What the characters ask and learn about concerning their places in the world is reflected back to the audience, with the question of our own significance in the world having, without a doubt, crossed our minds several times. The times gone by of early films that are presented to us brim with a rich sensation of wonderment as you can't help but think of how far movies have evolved since then. John Logan also peppers the film with some charming little vignettes of Parisian life inside the train station. There is Sacha Baron Cohen's character trying to get the attention of a florist (Emily Mortimer); and a random man and woman who try to strike up a conversation with each other on numerous occasions, only to have the man barked away by the woman's dog.
With the fine art of early moviemaking playing an important role in the film, it's easier said than done to picture a more appropriate director to be paired with Hugo than Martin Scorsese. Having him take charge of this film shows the audience how passionate he is about what he does, and that a love for cinema forever flourishes within him. This passion is shown in a scene where Hugo and Isabelle sneak into a movie theater to watch a silent film. As they are viewing it, pure captivation takes hold of them, and this is exactly what the director had me feel while watching this miraculous tale unfold. With a film like Hugo, Mr. Scorsese shares his deep adoration for movies, and attests that there is never a shortage of joy when watching them. That is the finest gift a filmmaker can give to the viewer.
Final grade: A
Saturday, January 7, 2012
The horse and his boy
There is a scene early in War Horse where 16-year-old Albert Narracott (Jeremy Irvine) is stunned by the beauty of a mother horse galloping along with her young foal. Albert's spellbound expression encapsulates our own feelings of watching this miracle of a creature take its first steps across an English countryside, with the expanse of the fields giving the sense of the greatness of the events that will soon unfold for Albert and his horse.
Based on the 1982 children's novel of the same name by Michael Morpurgo and the masterful 2011 Tony Award-winning stage adaptation, Steven Spielberg brings this "boy and his beloved animal" story and all of its artistic splendor to the cinema. War Horse saddles itself with the unimaginable horrors of World War I and the warmth of the connections between the horse and his owners, all coming together in a film that's as majestic as the beast at the center of it all.
Albert is a teenager who lives and works on a farm with his family in Devon, England. After his boozy father Ted (Peter Mullan) wins a horse with the family's money at an auction, his wife Rose (Emily Watson), is livid. Knowing that they don't have any other options, Albert agrees to train his new horse, Joey, how to plow a field, with the hopes of having a profitable harvest. With harsh weather making the harvest unsuccessful and not having any money, Ted decides to sell the horse to the English cavalry when World War I begins. Not being old enough to enlist in the army, Albert can't do anything until he reaches the age requirement, and can only think of Joey as his horse rides into the madness of battle.
Albert is an archetype of innocence lost during a time of global turmoil. Although this kind of story involving an animal and its owner is one we've seen in other places, that doesn't diminish its poignant impact. We feel for Albert because there isn't any way of telling whether or not he will get his horse back, since Joey is making his way into the path of machine guns, tanks and cannons. Jeremy Irvine displays just the right amount of affection when he shares the screen with his horse. Never is it too much that it becomes annoying and groan-inducing. Their separation cuts deep after having seen the sense of wonder in Albert's eyes when he first lays them on the horse, only to then have Joey going off to war and possible death. Albert's pain of losing his equine friend is palpable, and we hope with all our hearts for Joey's safety.
The screenplay, written by Richard Curtis and Lee Hall, unfolds beautifully into several story arcs that are each touched by the presence of Joey. Besides Albert's storyline on the home front and the battlefield, there is one concerning a girl named Emilie (Celine Buckens) and her grandfather (Niels Arestrup) on a farm in France. Just like with Albert's part of the film, this one carries a certain magic when watching a child try to train and ride the majestic creature. Joey becomes intertwined in the lives of two young brothers, Gunther (David Kross) and Michael (Leonard Carow), who are soldiers for the German army.
But perhaps the hardest plot thread to watch is when Joey is placed on the battlefield when fighting for the English side, with Captain Nicholls (Tom Hiddleston) as his rider. When Joey is placed in battle for the first time, it's him and the rest of the horses and soldiers against new war technology. It's when we're shown numerous dead horses at the end of the first battle scene that our fear for Joey's life becomes heavy on our minds.
The cinematography by Janusz Kaminski captures the scope of World War I as the camera swoops over the battlegrounds. A sequence with the English cavalry charging into a German encampment is a real exhilarant with the clash of the two sides. The camera's grimy descent into the trenches brings out the overbearing fear of the soldiers as they wait to step out and engage in combat and destruction.
Both the film and the show succeed in bringing to galloping life whatever they are given to tell the story. The marvelous puppetry of the stage production provided graceful movements for the horses, and I remember being taken aback for caring so much about something that was all animatronics. The puppeteers transferred life into these creations. As far as the movie goes, it's astounding how well the crew trained the horses to do what the film called for, especially for the German encampment scene, where they are a charging wall of wartime beasts.
Steven Spielberg gives War Horse the same treatment and care he did for his earlier blockbusters. Just like with E.T., Raiders of the Lost Ark and others, he wants to craft something that can be embraced by adults and children alike. Spielberg makes this epic glow with its depiction of war bringing out the best and the worst in people. The worst being the senselessness of the bloodshed and the ending of countless lives. But the best, no matter how bad the situation gets, is our bravery to save those we love. That goes for man, and animal.
Final grade: A
Based on the 1982 children's novel of the same name by Michael Morpurgo and the masterful 2011 Tony Award-winning stage adaptation, Steven Spielberg brings this "boy and his beloved animal" story and all of its artistic splendor to the cinema. War Horse saddles itself with the unimaginable horrors of World War I and the warmth of the connections between the horse and his owners, all coming together in a film that's as majestic as the beast at the center of it all.
Albert is a teenager who lives and works on a farm with his family in Devon, England. After his boozy father Ted (Peter Mullan) wins a horse with the family's money at an auction, his wife Rose (Emily Watson), is livid. Knowing that they don't have any other options, Albert agrees to train his new horse, Joey, how to plow a field, with the hopes of having a profitable harvest. With harsh weather making the harvest unsuccessful and not having any money, Ted decides to sell the horse to the English cavalry when World War I begins. Not being old enough to enlist in the army, Albert can't do anything until he reaches the age requirement, and can only think of Joey as his horse rides into the madness of battle.
Albert is an archetype of innocence lost during a time of global turmoil. Although this kind of story involving an animal and its owner is one we've seen in other places, that doesn't diminish its poignant impact. We feel for Albert because there isn't any way of telling whether or not he will get his horse back, since Joey is making his way into the path of machine guns, tanks and cannons. Jeremy Irvine displays just the right amount of affection when he shares the screen with his horse. Never is it too much that it becomes annoying and groan-inducing. Their separation cuts deep after having seen the sense of wonder in Albert's eyes when he first lays them on the horse, only to then have Joey going off to war and possible death. Albert's pain of losing his equine friend is palpable, and we hope with all our hearts for Joey's safety.
The screenplay, written by Richard Curtis and Lee Hall, unfolds beautifully into several story arcs that are each touched by the presence of Joey. Besides Albert's storyline on the home front and the battlefield, there is one concerning a girl named Emilie (Celine Buckens) and her grandfather (Niels Arestrup) on a farm in France. Just like with Albert's part of the film, this one carries a certain magic when watching a child try to train and ride the majestic creature. Joey becomes intertwined in the lives of two young brothers, Gunther (David Kross) and Michael (Leonard Carow), who are soldiers for the German army.
But perhaps the hardest plot thread to watch is when Joey is placed on the battlefield when fighting for the English side, with Captain Nicholls (Tom Hiddleston) as his rider. When Joey is placed in battle for the first time, it's him and the rest of the horses and soldiers against new war technology. It's when we're shown numerous dead horses at the end of the first battle scene that our fear for Joey's life becomes heavy on our minds.
The cinematography by Janusz Kaminski captures the scope of World War I as the camera swoops over the battlegrounds. A sequence with the English cavalry charging into a German encampment is a real exhilarant with the clash of the two sides. The camera's grimy descent into the trenches brings out the overbearing fear of the soldiers as they wait to step out and engage in combat and destruction.
Both the film and the show succeed in bringing to galloping life whatever they are given to tell the story. The marvelous puppetry of the stage production provided graceful movements for the horses, and I remember being taken aback for caring so much about something that was all animatronics. The puppeteers transferred life into these creations. As far as the movie goes, it's astounding how well the crew trained the horses to do what the film called for, especially for the German encampment scene, where they are a charging wall of wartime beasts.
Steven Spielberg gives War Horse the same treatment and care he did for his earlier blockbusters. Just like with E.T., Raiders of the Lost Ark and others, he wants to craft something that can be embraced by adults and children alike. Spielberg makes this epic glow with its depiction of war bringing out the best and the worst in people. The worst being the senselessness of the bloodshed and the ending of countless lives. But the best, no matter how bad the situation gets, is our bravery to save those we love. That goes for man, and animal.
Final grade: A
Sunday, January 1, 2012
A mission worth accepting
There is always an allure that's attached to stories of secret agents. It's an adrenaline-blasting life for these heroes, filled with globe-trotting adventures, espionage intrigue, elaborate tasks and slick gizmos. Deranged villains bent on world domination seem to be one dangerous step ahead as the good guys try to catch up to them and thwart their devious plans.
Director Brad Bird (Disney/Pixar's The Incredibles) bestows all of this in his recharging of the Mission: Impossible film series, which is based on the 1960s-1970s television show of the same name. In the fourth entry, Mission: Impossible - Ghost Protocol, we're given a spy-thriller that comes packing with a brainy script, appealing leads, thrill-a-minute action scenes and death-defying stunt work.
Ethan Hunt (Tom Cruise) and his IMF team attempt to obtain a suitcase of codes that could help them locate a person-of-interest, nicknamed "Cobalt," from the Kremlin in Moscow. Before they are able to complete their mission, a bomb decimates the building. The blame is immediately placed on Hunt and his crew, and they are now forced to work in the shadows. They learn that "Cobalt" is Kurt Hendricks (Michael Nyqvist), a Swedish-born Russian nuclear strategist, who wants to incite a global nuclear war to begin the next stage in human evolution, believing that only the strong can survive. It is now up to Ethan and his team to stop Hendricks before his plans come to fruition.
As highly expected for a Mission: Impossible film, the cast arrives locked and loaded. Cruise doesn't show any hint of slowing down, and is as on-the-go as ever. He gets pulled into most of the film's action-hero stuntwork, and follows through with as much dynamism and daredevil attitude as he carried back in 1996, when he accepted his mission in the first chapter. Jeremy Renner's character as William Brandt, an intelligence analyst, pulls us in with his quiet demeanor in his first scene, and manages to hold us as we try to figure out what he's hiding from the other characters. Paula Patton's role as IMF agent Jane Carter is very much in the tradition of a Bond Girl, being a tall and statuesque beauty that can bring the hurt to any fight. Simon Pegg is a hoot as the team's techno-whiz.
The action sequences fizzle with zing. The scene with Ethan climbing life-risking heights outside the Burj Khalifa hotel in Dubai is a highpoint, both for the movie and literally. The IMAX screen is the premium way to view this part. With the eye-popping heights of the screen and the
tower, you get that nervous and exhilerating feeling in your stomach you have when you peer out a window from a skyscraping building. The cinematography by Robert Elswit will make you want to grip your armrest like a child on monkey bars who is afraid of falling, as Ethan runs, jumps and swings his way through perilous elevations. The face-off between Ethan and Hendricks in a Mumbai car factory is one of the film's several superlative fight sequences, and is joyfully reminiscent of a scene in Cruise's 2002 sci-fi adventure, Minority Report.
Brad Bird could soon take a place at the table for Hollywood's go-to action directors. His Pixar superhero novelty from 2004, The Incredibles, gave audiences a sample of his aptitude for coalescing whiz-bang action thrills with layered narratives. With Mission: Impossible - Ghost Protocol being his first whack at a live-action project, it's clear that he can direct that type of storytelling as well as animated storytelling. The way Bird directs his action scenes allows them not to become too overblown, and they don't pummel the audience into a fit of migranes. They have the right length and style.
Andre Nemec's and Josh Appelbaum's screenplay evenly distributes the action scenes throughout the film. It has a fine stop-go pace, which allows for an action sequence to happen, and then it ends to permit more story information to come out and let the film move forward. It never gets boring because of this. Mission: Impossible - Ghost Protocol isn't another dumbed-down action flick. It respects the fact that this type of film can still have an intricate story and an immense entertainment factor. If future installments can be as smart and fun as this one, I'm ready for the next mission.
This review will now self-destruct.
Final grade: A-
Director Brad Bird (Disney/Pixar's The Incredibles) bestows all of this in his recharging of the Mission: Impossible film series, which is based on the 1960s-1970s television show of the same name. In the fourth entry, Mission: Impossible - Ghost Protocol, we're given a spy-thriller that comes packing with a brainy script, appealing leads, thrill-a-minute action scenes and death-defying stunt work.
Ethan Hunt (Tom Cruise) and his IMF team attempt to obtain a suitcase of codes that could help them locate a person-of-interest, nicknamed "Cobalt," from the Kremlin in Moscow. Before they are able to complete their mission, a bomb decimates the building. The blame is immediately placed on Hunt and his crew, and they are now forced to work in the shadows. They learn that "Cobalt" is Kurt Hendricks (Michael Nyqvist), a Swedish-born Russian nuclear strategist, who wants to incite a global nuclear war to begin the next stage in human evolution, believing that only the strong can survive. It is now up to Ethan and his team to stop Hendricks before his plans come to fruition.
As highly expected for a Mission: Impossible film, the cast arrives locked and loaded. Cruise doesn't show any hint of slowing down, and is as on-the-go as ever. He gets pulled into most of the film's action-hero stuntwork, and follows through with as much dynamism and daredevil attitude as he carried back in 1996, when he accepted his mission in the first chapter. Jeremy Renner's character as William Brandt, an intelligence analyst, pulls us in with his quiet demeanor in his first scene, and manages to hold us as we try to figure out what he's hiding from the other characters. Paula Patton's role as IMF agent Jane Carter is very much in the tradition of a Bond Girl, being a tall and statuesque beauty that can bring the hurt to any fight. Simon Pegg is a hoot as the team's techno-whiz.
The action sequences fizzle with zing. The scene with Ethan climbing life-risking heights outside the Burj Khalifa hotel in Dubai is a highpoint, both for the movie and literally. The IMAX screen is the premium way to view this part. With the eye-popping heights of the screen and the
tower, you get that nervous and exhilerating feeling in your stomach you have when you peer out a window from a skyscraping building. The cinematography by Robert Elswit will make you want to grip your armrest like a child on monkey bars who is afraid of falling, as Ethan runs, jumps and swings his way through perilous elevations. The face-off between Ethan and Hendricks in a Mumbai car factory is one of the film's several superlative fight sequences, and is joyfully reminiscent of a scene in Cruise's 2002 sci-fi adventure, Minority Report.
Brad Bird could soon take a place at the table for Hollywood's go-to action directors. His Pixar superhero novelty from 2004, The Incredibles, gave audiences a sample of his aptitude for coalescing whiz-bang action thrills with layered narratives. With Mission: Impossible - Ghost Protocol being his first whack at a live-action project, it's clear that he can direct that type of storytelling as well as animated storytelling. The way Bird directs his action scenes allows them not to become too overblown, and they don't pummel the audience into a fit of migranes. They have the right length and style.
Andre Nemec's and Josh Appelbaum's screenplay evenly distributes the action scenes throughout the film. It has a fine stop-go pace, which allows for an action sequence to happen, and then it ends to permit more story information to come out and let the film move forward. It never gets boring because of this. Mission: Impossible - Ghost Protocol isn't another dumbed-down action flick. It respects the fact that this type of film can still have an intricate story and an immense entertainment factor. If future installments can be as smart and fun as this one, I'm ready for the next mission.
This review will now self-destruct.
Final grade: A-
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