This film tells true story of an event that became legendary in the annals of the Old West. It is 1881 and Jesse James (Brad Pitt), the brutal outlaw and folk hero, has become older, tired and paranoid. Robert Ford (Casey Affleck) has idolised him since he was a child, and desperately tries to join his gang. Director Andrew Dominik explores how fate intertwines these two men’s lives, producing a dream-like and haunting viewing experience.
Casey Affleck (who doesn’t look that much like his brother, but sounds so much like him that it freaks me out) is brilliant as the titular coward. Shifty, constantly mumbling and weasely, but also intelligent and hot-headed, the Robert Ford shown here was an ambitious misfit who yearned for fame, and unfortunately got what he wanted. Pitt’s Jesse James is a malevolent presence in every scene. Apparently bi-polar towards the end of his life, he is at once both charming and dangerously unpredictable. If one actually looks at photos of Jesse James, however, one will see that he actually looked a lot more like a weedy version of Affleck than Brad Pitt. I suppose it is inevitable that everyone is beefed-up to match the Hollywood aesthetic.
As a mood-piece this contemplative film works very well. The cinematography is wonderful; grand vistas, farmhouses, towns, everything is shown through a grey-brown haze (at one point, Ford states that both he and James have blue eyes, but you really can’t tell due to the colour cast). Everything takes place very slowly in this world (except gunshot deaths, of course), allowing us to be transported back to another time.
Given the space in this film for pause and reflection, it is surprising that the story is actually quite hard to follow. There are lots of mangy, foul-speaking men who bear grudges against Jesse James and vice versa, but it is rarely made clear who they are and why the friction exists between them. Everything is very vague and unspoken, which certainly adds to the barren beauty of the piece, but produces a confused audience enjoying a less than compelling experience. Nevertheless, this is a lovely piece of work to see on the big screen, with a dream-like atmosphere that will stay with you for days.
Tuesday, 13 November 2007
Monday, 12 November 2007
Review - Sicko
Many people felt, like I did, that Michael Moore took a wrong turning with Fahrenheit 9/11; it all went a bit too far. The searing and sensitive examination of desolation in his home town in Roger & Me, and the masterful patchwork of Bowling for Columbine (which both mainly focused on the predicaments and foibles of ordinary Americans) seemed to be replaced with self-serving bombast. Although a persuasive and moving piece of work, Fahrenheit left a bad taste in my mouth, perhaps because Moore had left any pretence of balance and fairness behind when he stated that the purpose of the film was to get Bush out of the White House. It left an even worse taste when it failed.
With Sicko, his examination of the American medical system (or lack thereof), he has gone back to basics, producing another heartbreaking, heart-warming, and totally engrossing film. This is a subject he covered often in his TV series, TV Nation and The Awful Truth, but demands to be covered again. The stories he shows of people suffering and dying needlessly in the richest country in the World, all because of the greed of the insurance companies, are (excuse the pun) completely sickening. Now, Michael Moore may always approach a topic with an agenda, but his agenda here is to give poor people decent medical care. He may select facts carefully, but the fact that the denial of treatment is company policy in these organisations, and that this is sanctioned by the government, obliterates any arguments for keeping the status quo.
Sicko made me proud to be British (or, less specifically and more accurately, European), and so grateful for our National Health Service (NHS). Now, granted, it is a far from perfect system (hospital-borne infection rates and the treatment of the elderly are national scandals, and that’s just for starters), but for most of the people, most of the time it works at least adequately and it is free. It seems completely anathema to me, or to any European, to have to pay for treatment; we would see it as going against our human rights. We take it for granted that we can visit the GP if we get a sniffle, go to casualty if we cut ourselves, and that the cost of asthma medication won’t force us to keep working into our 80s. Moore shows ex-pat Americans crying with guilt about the ‘luxuries’ they receive, when their parents, who worked hard all their lives, have to struggle.
When it comes to the passionate polemic, the call to arms of downtrodden Americans, the highlighting of crippling unfairness, none can beat Moore; his work makes you laugh out loud one minute, and cry the next. Some may say he is a cynical manipulator of emotions, and even if that is the case, with Sicko his view is so morally correct that I applaud the manipulation, as it might make people angry enough to do something about it. I really believe that if Americans adopted socialised healthcare (as the rest of the Developed World has), then almost instantaneously they would never imagine going back to the old system: a system that dumps people without insurance outside homeless shelters in the dead of night. That refuses care to dying children. That bankrupts decent, hardworking families. That makes billions of dollars every year.
With Sicko, his examination of the American medical system (or lack thereof), he has gone back to basics, producing another heartbreaking, heart-warming, and totally engrossing film. This is a subject he covered often in his TV series, TV Nation and The Awful Truth, but demands to be covered again. The stories he shows of people suffering and dying needlessly in the richest country in the World, all because of the greed of the insurance companies, are (excuse the pun) completely sickening. Now, Michael Moore may always approach a topic with an agenda, but his agenda here is to give poor people decent medical care. He may select facts carefully, but the fact that the denial of treatment is company policy in these organisations, and that this is sanctioned by the government, obliterates any arguments for keeping the status quo.
Sicko made me proud to be British (or, less specifically and more accurately, European), and so grateful for our National Health Service (NHS). Now, granted, it is a far from perfect system (hospital-borne infection rates and the treatment of the elderly are national scandals, and that’s just for starters), but for most of the people, most of the time it works at least adequately and it is free. It seems completely anathema to me, or to any European, to have to pay for treatment; we would see it as going against our human rights. We take it for granted that we can visit the GP if we get a sniffle, go to casualty if we cut ourselves, and that the cost of asthma medication won’t force us to keep working into our 80s. Moore shows ex-pat Americans crying with guilt about the ‘luxuries’ they receive, when their parents, who worked hard all their lives, have to struggle.
When it comes to the passionate polemic, the call to arms of downtrodden Americans, the highlighting of crippling unfairness, none can beat Moore; his work makes you laugh out loud one minute, and cry the next. Some may say he is a cynical manipulator of emotions, and even if that is the case, with Sicko his view is so morally correct that I applaud the manipulation, as it might make people angry enough to do something about it. I really believe that if Americans adopted socialised healthcare (as the rest of the Developed World has), then almost instantaneously they would never imagine going back to the old system: a system that dumps people without insurance outside homeless shelters in the dead of night. That refuses care to dying children. That bankrupts decent, hardworking families. That makes billions of dollars every year.
Monday, 5 November 2007
London Film Festival Review - Juno
Juno is the story of the unusually-named Juno MacGuff (Ellen Page), a 16 year-old who finds herself pregnant. Automatically choosing an abortion at first, she changes her mind and decides to have the baby and give it away to a deserving couple. Hoping to find some cool artsy types in need of a child, or at least some lesbians, she finds an ad placed by Vanessa (Jennifer Garner) and Mark (Jason Bateman) Loring, a yuppie couple in an immaculate house who are desperate for a baby. Will she give them the baby? Will she get back with its father? Will her parents forgive her?
I’m making this film sound like a dreadful issue-of-the-week melodrama, when really it is anything but. An offbeat comedy-drama, the easiest way to describe it would be ‘Enid from Ghost World gets pregnant’, but that would be a flippant oversimplification. Although ostensibly dealing with ‘issues’, the script (the first screenplay by Diablo Cody) offers no universal answers to the problems of the characters; these are people choosing the decisions that are right for them, and not judging anyone else for theirs. Juno is made up of small moments, some hilarious, some heartbreakingly poignant. Cody has an amazing and unusual turn of phrase. Using no ‘jokes’ as such, the film manages to be very funny through the use of some strange expressions and slang; I wish I was capable of talking as creatively as Juno.
Ellen Page, who impressed in Hard Candy, turns in another bravura performance in the title role. Acerbic and independent, Juno is a girl who knows what she wants (most of the time), and doesn’t care what other people think. She comes across as a real person, a person miles away from any high school stereotype. Jennifer Garner and Jason Bateman put it lovely, nuanced performances as two wounded souls, and Bateman’s fellow Arrested Development alumnus Michael Cerra does his usual ‘nervous geek’ shtick with aplomb as Juno’s almost-boyfriend (I like to hope he has some range as an actor, but I have no evidence of this as yet).
The director, Jason Reitman (son of Ghost Busters’ director, Ivan Reitman) has made a thoughtful and entertaining film that takes the feelings of its characters seriously. Teenagers will enjoy seeing people like them being appreciated as fully-rounded humans with valid emotions, and anyone who likes something a little bit different should enjoy this low-key and unusual story. Juno is the perfect antidote to carbon-copy Hollywood fare.
I’m making this film sound like a dreadful issue-of-the-week melodrama, when really it is anything but. An offbeat comedy-drama, the easiest way to describe it would be ‘Enid from Ghost World gets pregnant’, but that would be a flippant oversimplification. Although ostensibly dealing with ‘issues’, the script (the first screenplay by Diablo Cody) offers no universal answers to the problems of the characters; these are people choosing the decisions that are right for them, and not judging anyone else for theirs. Juno is made up of small moments, some hilarious, some heartbreakingly poignant. Cody has an amazing and unusual turn of phrase. Using no ‘jokes’ as such, the film manages to be very funny through the use of some strange expressions and slang; I wish I was capable of talking as creatively as Juno.
Ellen Page, who impressed in Hard Candy, turns in another bravura performance in the title role. Acerbic and independent, Juno is a girl who knows what she wants (most of the time), and doesn’t care what other people think. She comes across as a real person, a person miles away from any high school stereotype. Jennifer Garner and Jason Bateman put it lovely, nuanced performances as two wounded souls, and Bateman’s fellow Arrested Development alumnus Michael Cerra does his usual ‘nervous geek’ shtick with aplomb as Juno’s almost-boyfriend (I like to hope he has some range as an actor, but I have no evidence of this as yet).
The director, Jason Reitman (son of Ghost Busters’ director, Ivan Reitman) has made a thoughtful and entertaining film that takes the feelings of its characters seriously. Teenagers will enjoy seeing people like them being appreciated as fully-rounded humans with valid emotions, and anyone who likes something a little bit different should enjoy this low-key and unusual story. Juno is the perfect antidote to carbon-copy Hollywood fare.
Sunday, 4 November 2007
London Film Festival Review - Planet Terror
Planet Terror is the other half of Grindhouse, the Tarantino/Rodriguez double-feature that began with the supercool Death Proof. Concentrating on schlocky action and gore rather than dialogue and soundtrack, it is a much more conventional film than the first part, but still a gloriously fun ride with tongue firmly in cheek.
Set in a rather grimy Austin shortly after the first half of Death Proof (a bad few weeks to visit the city, by all accounts), the story follows the results of a chemical leak at a military base, and the escape of the survivors from the zombie-like creatures it created. The set-up is quite perfunctory, allowing all hell to break loose for most of the film as zombies splatter humans and vice versa.
Freddy Rodriguez (lovely Rico from wonderful Six Feet Under) and Rose McGowan lead the cast, and look like they are having such fun kicking zombie butt. Marley Shelton also stands out, appearing amazingly dazed yet determined throughout as Dr. Dakota Block (finally, the ‘Doc-tor Block’ scene in Death Proof makes sense now!), and there is a great little part for Bruce Willis. Quentin Tarantino actually acts well here! I think he is only good in things when playing a quiet psycho; when he plays a talkative person more like himself, he is strangely much less believable.
This is a very silly film, and whilst it is not as laugh-out-loud funny as the similarly-themed Shaun of the Dead (or as much of an out-and-out parody), it has its comedic moments, as well as some pretty grim gore. With a fake trailer at the beginning and a missing reel in the middle, this had more of the ‘fake grindhouse film’ elements than the individual version of Death Proof released in cinemas here, adding to the fun. I would say this was like a sequel to Rodriguez’s Tarantino-penned From Dusk Till Dawn, had that film already had two sequels (neither directed by Rodriguez). Those who enjoyed the end of that film, and fans of the zombie genre in general, are going to love the barmy set-pieces and stock characters on display here.
Set in a rather grimy Austin shortly after the first half of Death Proof (a bad few weeks to visit the city, by all accounts), the story follows the results of a chemical leak at a military base, and the escape of the survivors from the zombie-like creatures it created. The set-up is quite perfunctory, allowing all hell to break loose for most of the film as zombies splatter humans and vice versa.
Freddy Rodriguez (lovely Rico from wonderful Six Feet Under) and Rose McGowan lead the cast, and look like they are having such fun kicking zombie butt. Marley Shelton also stands out, appearing amazingly dazed yet determined throughout as Dr. Dakota Block (finally, the ‘Doc-tor Block’ scene in Death Proof makes sense now!), and there is a great little part for Bruce Willis. Quentin Tarantino actually acts well here! I think he is only good in things when playing a quiet psycho; when he plays a talkative person more like himself, he is strangely much less believable.
This is a very silly film, and whilst it is not as laugh-out-loud funny as the similarly-themed Shaun of the Dead (or as much of an out-and-out parody), it has its comedic moments, as well as some pretty grim gore. With a fake trailer at the beginning and a missing reel in the middle, this had more of the ‘fake grindhouse film’ elements than the individual version of Death Proof released in cinemas here, adding to the fun. I would say this was like a sequel to Rodriguez’s Tarantino-penned From Dusk Till Dawn, had that film already had two sequels (neither directed by Rodriguez). Those who enjoyed the end of that film, and fans of the zombie genre in general, are going to love the barmy set-pieces and stock characters on display here.
Saturday, 3 November 2007
Review - Ratatouille
Ratatouille continues the Pixar tradition of producing highly polished and lovable animated films that appeal to both children and adults. Their presentation begins with a short cartoon called Lifted, a nicely old-fashioned tale of alien abduction that could have been made by Chuck Jones during the golden age of animation, had he been given the technology through a rogue wormhole. The main feature is the story of a rat from rural France called Remy who has an unusually sensitive sense of smell. Taking a different life path from Jean-Baptiste Grenouille in Perfume, he uses his gift to improve the taste of any dish a human makes, even those of the best chefs. Finding himself in Paris, he seeks out the restaurant of his idol, a recently deceased tv chef, and manages to show off his culinary skills with the help of a lowly kitchen boy called Linguini.
The quality of animation here is, as always with Pixar, outstanding, especially when it comes to the rats and the views of Paris. It is a relief to not have a cast list unnecessarily stuffed full with big names (something that was distracting with films like Happy Feet), and everyone performs well. Peter O’Toole really stands out as Anton Ego, a morose and ghostly restaurant critic, matching the voice to the character perfectly.
Remy’s tale of the underdog achieving against great odds (and these are very big odds, as it is extremely disturbing to see a rat cooking, even a cartoon one) is very appealing, especially since he is extremely adorable and furry-looking. There was one anomaly (apart from the obvious ‘rat being a chef’ thing), however, that annoyed me slightly: accents are not consistent. The story takes place in France, and the rats have American accents. This is ok, since they are speaking Rat, and maybe rats have American accents when you translate Rat to English, I don’t know. Humans spoke English with a French accent (again completely acceptable), except for Linguini, who again had an American accent. Is he speaking Rat? No! And all the other humans could understand him! Is he supposed to be French, American, or Italian as his name would suggest? This is never made clear, and troubles me greatly.
Apart from that, it was really good. There are lots of very funny jokes, and a nice message at the end, which is exactly what you want in a film like this.
The quality of animation here is, as always with Pixar, outstanding, especially when it comes to the rats and the views of Paris. It is a relief to not have a cast list unnecessarily stuffed full with big names (something that was distracting with films like Happy Feet), and everyone performs well. Peter O’Toole really stands out as Anton Ego, a morose and ghostly restaurant critic, matching the voice to the character perfectly.
Remy’s tale of the underdog achieving against great odds (and these are very big odds, as it is extremely disturbing to see a rat cooking, even a cartoon one) is very appealing, especially since he is extremely adorable and furry-looking. There was one anomaly (apart from the obvious ‘rat being a chef’ thing), however, that annoyed me slightly: accents are not consistent. The story takes place in France, and the rats have American accents. This is ok, since they are speaking Rat, and maybe rats have American accents when you translate Rat to English, I don’t know. Humans spoke English with a French accent (again completely acceptable), except for Linguini, who again had an American accent. Is he speaking Rat? No! And all the other humans could understand him! Is he supposed to be French, American, or Italian as his name would suggest? This is never made clear, and troubles me greatly.
Apart from that, it was really good. There are lots of very funny jokes, and a nice message at the end, which is exactly what you want in a film like this.
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