Review: "Melancholia"

Lars von Trier, ever a controversy magnet, attracted quite a bit of attention for his remarks about understanding Hitler at the 2011 Cannes Film Festival. This controversy, which ended with the Danish director being ejected from the festival, almost overshadowed his latest film, which managed to pick up a Best Actress prize for star Kirsten Dunst. Yet for all of the attention given to Mr. Von Trier's uncomfortable press conference, and to his previous film Antichrist, the craziness, surprisingly, ends there. Von Trier's latest effort, Melancholia, is actually devoid of the usual emotional (or physical) torture the director is known for inflicting upon audiences.

After a gorgeous prologue filled with slow-motion images, culminating in the earth colliding with a larger planet, the film settles into the story proper. Split into two chapters, the first focuses on Justine (Dunst), on the day of her wedding. As the the wedding reception drags on into the night, Justine begins to act increasingly inconsistent, much to the frustration of those around her, namely her sister Claire (Charlotte Gainsbourg) and brother-in-law John (Kiefer Sutherland). But enough about that, let's talk about the end of the world. Sorry, was that an awkward transition? Well, prepare yourself, because the film's movement between chapters isn't much better. At the end of the day, Melancholia is something of an art house disaster movie, only with little emphasis on the disaster. As is turns out, a planet (bluntly named Melancholia), is due to pass by earth. Claire is worried that the planet with collide, even though John tells her not to worry.

And if it sounds like the two halves of the movie don't seem to match up on paper, they don't fare any better on screen. Chapter One honestly feels like it needs to go off and become its own complete, separate story, and it drags when compared to the more anxiety-ridden Chapter Two. Although maybe it's for the best that Chapter One is only half of a film, because I don't think I'd want to sit through an entire feature's worth of it. Littered with interesting angles to explore, the film instead chooses to introduce boring subplots and inane scenes that go nowhere (if you can find something of worth in the scene where Justine urinates on a golf course, please let me know...). Instead of exploring the relationship between Justine and her bile-spewing, marriage-hating mother (Charlotte Rampling), or really examining why Justine starts to become so bizarre, we have to endure a subplot involving Jack (Stellan Skarsgaard), Justine's new boss. To be brief, it's stupid. And as beautiful as the film often is, technical aspects sometimes falter. The constant use of handheld camera work fails to add to the overall effect. And if you're a stickler when it comes to the 180 degree rule, you'll have a heart attack when you see how von Trier shoots and edits the conversations together.

Thankfully, Melancholia ends with its stronger half. As the film's perspective orients itself around Claire, and the story actually focuses on the titular planet, the film becomes less frustrating, and more engaging. In large part, this is due to von Trier's significantly better writing for the role of Claire. Justine is meant to be all-over-the-place, but unfortunately the script's treatment of her is equally scatter-shot. It's not just that Claire is a showier part that requires more obvious emoting. Quite simply, Gainsbourg blows her co-star clear out of the water. Claire's conflict may be a simple one, but in the hands of Ms. Gainsbourg, it comes to life with consistency and conviction. Faring much better in her second go-round with von Trier, it's Gainsbourg, not Dunst, whose performance deserves to be talked about (and possibly awarded).

And by finally focusing on the end of the world scenario von Trier is obviously eager to get to, Melancholia finally develops a sense of purpose. Whereas Chapter One has Justine urinating on a golf course and some shots of space that look like rejects from The Tree of Life, Chapter Two shows us how the small group of characters react to the oncoming planet. There's fear, doubt, confusion, and anger, all amid a simple-yet-intriguing sci-fi premise. And, barring some awfully strange and strangely awful dialogue (the child actor has terrible lines), it all fits together rather well. Melancholia may be as ignorant of science and physics as a Michael Bay blockbuster, but at least here, there's something of substance to distract you and aid in the suspension of disbelief. A scene where Jack tries to calm down Claire as she has trouble breathing winds up being full of understated suspense and intensity, even though it only lasts a short while. And even when we know how the story is going to end, how it has to end, the fact that von Trier has given us a limited range of characters to spend time with, rather than covering a huge ensemble, makes the sense of impending doom that much more earned. In, say, 2012, when we see Los Angeles fall to ruin, countless lives are lost amid overblown spectacle. Melancholia contains no explosions (barring the impact of the planetary collision), yet works on a much higher level as an end of the world story.

To a point, that is. Whatever the strengths of Chapter Two, there are still residual flaws that creep in from Chapter One. Justine may become a supporting character, but the messiness of the writing hangs over the role (and Dunst's performance) for the film's entire run. What von Trier has in mind for her never feels as focused and concrete as it should. Is her mental state somehow tied to the planet? Where does her hatred of life on earth come from? Were her role designed with greater purpose, these questions would intrigue, but as it stands, they perplex and annoy, to the point that you'll likely give up on figuring them out because you won't care, no matter how many times the lovely prelude from Wagner's Tristan & Isolde is used as soundtrack. For as many strengths as Melancholia has, it is also weighed down by errors in writing, whether in stiff dialogue or clumsy handling of themes and symbolism. So while Melancholia may stand above other end of the world flicks for its dedication to its characters, too often that dedication is inconsistent or shallow, rendering von Trier's latest equal parts compelling and tedious.

Grade: B-/C+

The Netflix Files: May 20-29

It's been way too long since I've added another entry to either the "what I watched this week" or "best of the month" series. However, with summer in full swing, I figured I ought to get both of these running again while I have free time. First thing's first: what I watched this week is now going under the name The Netflix Files. Now that that's out of the way, it's time to play catch up:

Solaris (1972) dir. Andrei Tarkovsky:

Often considered something of a Russian answer to 2001: A Space Odyssey, Tarkovsky's adaptation of Stainslaw Lem's sci-fi novel deserves to stand on its own. It may be set largely in space, and feature mysterious and difficult concepts, but it couldn't be any different from Kubrick's masterpiece. Solaris uses its sci-fi trappings and setting to explore memory, grief, and loss, often offering answers as challenging as the questions it poses. It can be a difficult watch based on length alone, and it probably demands a second (and third, and fourth, and fifth, etc...) viewing, but even on a first watch, it's hard to not be impressed. There are times when the pacing can grow tiresome; a lengthy sequence involving showing a car driving on the highway goes on and on without any purpose or direction. It's magnetic to watch at first, but it doesn't take long before it falls victim to too-much-of-a-good-thing syndrome. Still, I'd be hard-pressed not to label Solaris, my first venture in Tarkovsky's filmography, something of a masterpiece in its own right, as difficult as it can be.

Grade: A-

Hour of the Wolf (1968) dir. Ingmar Bergman:

Bergman, for me, is one of those beloved auteurs who oscillates between hypnotically brilliant and frustratingly obtuse, sometimes within a single film. Hour of the Wolf is one of those entries in his canon that is both. The closest that Bergman ever ventured into horror territory, it's a consistently interesting film, one that uses small details to slowly create a sense that all is not well on the island where Johan and Alma live (Max von Sydow and Liv Ullmann). As things become more overtly disturbing and surreal, the layering of symbolism throws some bumps in the road, obscuring the point(s). Von Sydow and Ullmann give committed performances as a couple facing a potentially malevolent group of wealthy neighbors, played by an ensemble of actors committed to creating a perfectly unsettling atmosphere. Like Solaris, it probably deserves a second viewing, but unlike Tarkovsky's film, Hour of the Wolf's initial impression is equally memorable, but not nearly as satisfying.

Grade: B

Orlando (1992) dir. Sally Potter:

Gender roles is the name of the game with Sally Potter's adaptation of Virginia Woolf's time traveling short story. Considered a break-out performance for Tilda Swinton, Orlando traces the 400 year life of Orlando, a young nobleman in Queen Elizabeth's (Quentin Crisp) court. Playing Orlando as both a man and a woman, Swinton's work is both mesmerizing and more vulnerable than the ice queen roles she's known for. Aiding the film, spectacularly I might add, are the art direction and costume design, which gorgeously capture four centuries worth of clothes and castles. It's a visually ravishing journey across time, filled with lush colors and intricate designs courtesy of Oscar favorite Sandy Powell. The beautiful music only adds to this quietly mesmerizing journey. Dialogue is occasionally stiff, but Swinton's compelling work and the immaculate design help lend this odd little gem some heft, creating an impressionistic look at one person experiencing both genders.

Grade: B/B+

La Ceremonie (1996) dir. Claude Chabrol:

Considered to be Chabrol's finest work from the 90s, this domestic drama-turned thriller is the sort that slowly lures you in, only to throw you for a loop with a chilling climax. Led by stellar work from Sandrine Bonnaire and Isabelle Hupert, this tale of a soft-spoken maid and her relationship with a coarse mail woman is consistently interesting. It throws details out slowly, keeping the viewer on edge. We get the sense that something more has to happen than these two women befriending each other, but it's quite hard to tell where it will go. When the film arrives at its ending, you'll likely feel the temperature drop. Chabrol's execution is so matter-of-fact, and La Ceremonie achieves its impact because of it. Coupled with a strangely poetic ending, this domestic thriller is one you won't soon forget.

Grade: A-

David Fincher's Dragon Tattoo (fixed)

I initially wanted to hold off on commenting on the leaked red-band trailer for David Fincher's re-adaptation of The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, but since I can't seem to stop watching it, I might as well go ahead. First, for those who haven't seen, here's the camcorder-video, taken from somewhere in Europe (where the trailer is already showing in theaters). **The red-band trailer has since been removed from Youtube by Sony. Here is the (non HD) green-band trailer:

Now, with any US re-do of a major foreign film, there's sort of an unwritten rule among movie lovers. We're supposed to decry, or at least be highly skeptical of, Hollywood's shameless need to rip-off foreign work, all so that American audiences don't have to *gasp* read subtitles (!!!). However, this is one remake where I'm inclined to throw skepticism to the wind, and fully embrace the new version. Why? Because it's not entirely a remake. It's more of a re-adaptation, meaning that the film makers, including screenwriter Steven Zaillian, went back to Stieg Larsson's book, rather than the Swedish film. And according to an interview several months ago, Zaillian made the bold choice to alter the source material, which is refreshing in an age when so many literary adaptations try to be slavishly faithful to the text.

And with Larsson's books, that's a good thing. The Millennium Trilogy has certainly become a major literary phenomenon, but I've never been entirely sold on the hype (and so begins the umpteenth iteration of my rant on these books). Lisbeth Salander, originally played by Noomi Rapace, is the main draw in the trilogy. A bi-sexual punk/hacker with a dark (daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaark) past, she's a wonderful idea as far as characters go. That said, in Larsson's books, she comes across as a great idea of a character who isn't fully utilized. This is, in part, due to the fact that she competes for narrative importance with Stieg Larsson, er, I mean, Mikael Blomqvist, a crusading investigative journalist. I was never that drawn to Larsson's painfully obvious author insert (or, Gary-Stu), and his portrayal in the films by the unbearably bland Mikael Nyqvist certainly didn't help matters. As far as stories go, the trilogy has plenty of interesting moments, but was somewhat undone by Larsson's drawn out plots. The second novel, "The Girl Who Played with Fire," despite being my favorite, begins with an overlong introduction set in the Caribbean that has nothing to do with the rest of the intricate plot. This section was wisely cut for time on screen, one of the few things that was good about The Girl Who Played with Fire, which was something of a train wreck over all. To sum it up, Lisbeth Salander is a great idea who deserves to be the star of a better series of books...

..or maybe just better movies. This trailer may not have any dialogue, but it speaks volumes about why I'm so excited for Fincher's take on the story, and why I think it will blow the Swedish version out of the water. The images, many filled with Fincher's signature of blue and green tints, are intense and gritty, and Rooney Mara looks appropriately eerie/otherworldly as Lisbeth. We'll have to wait until December to debate whether she's better than Rapace, but she certainly seems capable of filling the role. More immediately impressive is Daniel Craig as Blomqvist. Not only does he seem less bland in the role, but he could potentially make Blomqvist a more interesting character. Zaillian's script reportedly makes Blomqvist less of a womanizer, which should help the character feel like less of a blatant stand-in for Larsson. Also along for the ride, behind-the-scenes, are Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross, who wrote the excellent (and Oscar winning) score for Fincher's The Social Network. You can get a small taste of Reznor in the trailer; the cover of Led Zeppelin's "Immigrant Song" is performed by Karen O and Nine Inch Nails, and adds a great, grungy vibe to the gritty visuals and icy locales. Sony is clearly having fun with the film's tough-as-nails image, labeling it the "feel bad movie of Christmas," and that only makes me more excited. All hail King Fincher.

Trailer: "Take Shelter"

While it may not have picked up any awards from Robert DeNiro's journey, Jeff Nichols' film Take Shelter has quietly been picking up steam. The film was actually picked as the critics' favorite from the festival, which is saying something considering the heavy hitters at the festival (both in and out of competition). After seeing the trailer, it's easy to see why. This looks like an understated, yet eerie psychological thriller. Michael Shannon has been on the rise ever since Revolutionary Road (2008), and this could be a big breakout moment for him, at least on the indie circuit. And then there's Jessica Chastain, who will has at least 5, maybe 6 films hitting theaters this year (including the Cannes jury's favorite, The Tree of Life). Then there's Kathy Baker, always a welcome presence, who doesn't do nearly enough work these days. So that's: good cast, interesting premise, intriguing/eerie trailer, good early reviews. The only thing missing is a distributor to get the film into theaters this year.

Cannes Review Round-up: "Melancholia"

I wish could do more of these review round-ups, but with so many films debuting (and well, since I'm not there) keeping tabs on the reception of every film in (and out of) competition throws me all over the place. Still, there are those that I'm determined to keep up with, one of which debuted this morning. Melancholia comes from love-him-or-want-to-kill-him director Lars von Trier, and mixes basic sci-fi elements (a planet colliding with earth) with dysfunctional family drama. While guaranteed to be less out there than Antichrist, part of me still expected nothing short of outrage over something in von Trier's latest. Apparently that's not the case, for while some label Melancholia emotionally draining, nothing so far indicates anything hugely sensationalist about it, which only intrigues me more:
The Hollywood Reporter - Todd McCarthy: (N/A) "...this contemplation of the planet's demise predictably provides not an ounce of comfort or redemption, nor does it offer characters or ideas with which to meaningfully engage..."

indieWire - Eric Kohn: (A) "Melanholia is supremely operatic, enlivened by its cosmic sensibility, and yet amazingly rendered on an intimate scale."

The Telegraph - Sukhdev Sandhu: (5/5 stars) "It takes a baffling, almost bone-headed premise...and from it creates a mesmerizing, visually gorgeous and often-moving alloy of family drama, philosophical meditation, and anti-golfing tract."

Movie Line - Stephanie Zacharek: (N/A) "The actresses' performances intertwine beautifully, like twin climbing vines vying for the attention of the sun."

Rope of Silicon - Brad Brevet: (C+) "It's a melancholy, sad sack kind of feature and what I perceived to be von Trier's boredom with it hit me quite hard."

The Film Stage - Raffi Asdourian: (A) "...the end result of Melancholia [is] a powerful statement on the futility of our lives as we try to escape our own inevitable fate."

Digital Spy - Mayer Nissim: (5/5 stars) "It's visually stunning from beginning to end, with the opening and closing moments in particular being (quite literally) breathtaking."

FirstShowing.net - Alex Billington: (7/10) "[Von Trier] starts with a big idea, then just lets it slowly trickle out for 130 minutes, ending at the moment everyone is expecting, but without having said much throughout."

Time Out London - Dave Calhoun: (2/5 stars) "Melancholia isn't a provocative or confrontational film, but it's too often a dull one."

Additional Comments: The film's opening and closing sequences are given unanimous praise for their spacey beauty and stylized destruction. The performances, however, are usually treated with mild compliments, some of which border on indifference. Consensus seems to be that none of von Trier's cast will be anywhere in the running for acting prizes at Cannes. Finally, the cinematography earns across-the-board raves.

Cannes Verdict: Though strikingly beautiful, von Trier's take on the end of the world sometimes fails to make much of an impact, despite many moments of visual and emotional power.

"Bridesmaids" - REVIEW

With only a handful of exceptions, Saturday Night Live stars don't have the best track record of transitioning from sketch comedy to headlining feature films. For every Will Ferrell, there's half a dozen Julia Sweeneys floundering around in increasingly awful comedic vehicles. However, thanks to the magic hand of producer Judd Apatow, and some hard work of her own, current star Kristen Wiig may be on her way to becoming the next exception to the rule.

Wiig, who co-wrote the film with Annie Mumolo, stars as Annie, a down-on-her-luck woman whose best friend (Maya Rudolph) has picked her as the maid of honor for her upcoming wedding. As Annie tries to do her best to pull off the bachelorette party, as well as sort out her less-than-ideal love life, she has to deal with the bizarre group of bridesmaids.

Plot-wise, there's really nothing surprising to be found in Bridesmaids, and save for a few specifics, there isn't much in the limited plot that you won't see coming. Wiig and Mumolo's script is more interested in the character interactions and the jokes, and for the most part the approach works. While not a brilliant work of comedy, the film produces consistent laughs thanks to a sense of humor that perfectly matches Wiig's mix of goofiness and understated weirdness. Wiig makes a delightful leading lady, and keeps Annie (and the rest of the characters) from becoming a one-note role designed specifically for jokes. Even moments that feel like they could be an SNL sketch - a scene where Annie and Rose Byrne's Helen try to catch the attention of a traffic cop - don't become major distractions because, simply put, they're funny.

Backing up Wiig is a stellar ensemble of female comedic talent. Stand-outs go to Byrne, better known for her beauty (and TV's Damages) than for comedy, as a bitchy rival friend, and Melissa McCarthy as a brusque soon-to-be-relative of the bride. The bride herself, Ms. Rudolph, is given slightly less to do, and unfortunately has the 'straight' role of the bunch. Rounding out the party are Wendi McLendon-Covey (Reno 911!) and Ellie Kemper (The Office), as a stressed out mother of three, and an idealistic newlywed, respectively. Unfortunately, not everyone is given quite as much to do. As the film progresses, it's really Byrne and McCarthy who take center stage in supporting, while Covey and Kemper all but vanish after a certain point, which seems like a waste of talent.

As far as men are concerned, there are only two worth mentioning, played by Jon Hamm and Chris O'Dowd, each rather simplistic in spite of the talented actors in the roles. This is very much a woman-oriented film, and despite hitting plenty of familiar notes, Bridesmaids avoids becoming tired or tedious thanks to the strength of its triumphant female cast. There may be a wedding involved, but this is no Katherine-Heigl-romantic comedy (and that's for the best, isn't it?). The women are diverse, strong, independent, and most importantly, funny, and the film knows how to use each of them, even if they aren't all used enough. And in spite of the plot's lack of true suspense, Wiig deserves credit for deviating from the Apatow norm of going through a bunch of irreverent, silly, crude, and/or gross-out jokes before taking a sharp left turn into 'meaningful' territory. The softer side of the film is predictable, but also feels authentic and well-earned, even if everything does get tied up too neatly at the end. Bridesmaids may be a female-oriented comedy, but its humor, even in its weak moments, is universally appealing.

Grade: B

**Bridesmaids opens in US theaters on May 13th.

"Certified Copy" - REVIEW

I sincerely hope that multi-national productions can be submitted for the Best Foreign Language film Oscar, because even though the year is young, competition is already fierce thanks to the French-Italian-Belgian co-production that is Certified Copy. The film, which includes dialogue in French, Italian, and English, picked up strong reviews at last year's Cannes Film Festival, in addition to a Best Actress prize for Juliette Binoche. Finally seeing the film, almost a year since its Cannes bow, I'm glad to say that both sets of accolades were richly deserved.

Opening in Tuscany, the film begins with writer James Miller (opera singer William Shimell) at a signing for his latest book, which argues that copies of original artwork are every bit as valuable as the original. Soon after, he stumbles into a dimly lit collection of artwork owned by Elle (Juliette Binoche). Tired of being stuck in hotels and conference rooms, James suggests they get some fresh air, and Elle decides to drive the pair to the nearby town of Lucignano. While there, a woman mistakenly refers to James as Elle's husband, and Elle never corrects her.

And once this happens, and the level of casual mystery enters Abbass Kiarostami's film, the film picks up considerably. Its opening moments can feel lagging and even tedious, if anything because it feels like a cousin of Before Sunrise/Before Sunset, only without the youth, vitality, or inherent charm. Kiarostami's film is considerably less romantic and much more melancholic, and this can be off-putting initially. However, the more time the pair spend together, the more quietly engaging the film becomes. Its pace never quickens, yet thanks to the sharp contrast in its characters, the material and subject matter, which could have easily become wildly pretentious, becomes something special, even if it can be a bitter experience.

As James and Elle continue their conversations, some meandering, some pointed, what starts out as a conversation on art evolves into a conversation on life, specifically the relationships between men and women, and their perceptions of the world. However, none of this would be worth it, though, without a compelling 'couple' at the center. This is where Certified Copy starts to get interesting, for better and for worse. To be clear, I have no complaints about Binoche, who is absolutely radiant throughout. Like the film, she grows more and more complex as the film progresses. She mixes emotional outbursts with restrained moments of sadness and anger under pressure, and masterfully executes a handful of crying scenes by barely crying at all. Her ability to emote so fluidly, in three languages no less, is impressive and rewarding to behold. Unfortunately, her acting partner is not quite as consistent. Despite a compelling, sonorous deep voice, Shimell can come off as either stiff or overly dramatic. The opera star's tendency to sprinkle his dialogue with pauses can sometimes come off as detrimental to the film's more free-flowing, casual style. It works in scenes with more heightened drama, specifically a fight at an otherwise empty Italian eatery. Yet compared to his co-star, it's hard not to feel ever-so-slightly let down by the realization that Binoche's primary acting counterpart can't always match her. The film also has a tendency to linger too long on shots, namely the almost agonizingly long opening credits.

Even so, it's hard not to be impressed with the way Kiarostami weaves his simultaneously simple and complicated story of a man and a woman testing the limits of their relationship over the course of a day. It can be meandering, and in spots a little unsatisfying, but it's hard to deny the overall strength of the director's latest. It may lack the feel good romanticization of similar films, but makes up for it with astute writing and a good deal of superb acting. It's not a perfect film, one that teeters between being 'very good' and 'great,' but at its best, it is unquestionably a work of art, regardless of how many copies of it exist.

Grade: B+

"Hanna" - REVIEW

When Kick Ass opened last April to mixed reviews (and controversy), one thing seemed to be generally agreed upon: audiences loved Chloe Moretz's Hit Girl, and many likely clamored for a spin-off. Now, just under a year later, Joe Wright and Saoirse Ronan have given us something close to that dream, albeit with a completely different tone and approach, in Hanna.

Wright's latest film, only his fourth, marks a major departure from previous work (the wonderful Pride and Prejudice and Atonement). However, unlike his last foray into the present (the terribly dull The Soloist), Wright's latest shows the director in a return to form, successfully blending a mix of genres. The end result is something of an art house action thriller that is eerie, beautiful, and at times very, very strange.

Raised in the wilderness by her father Eric (Eric Bana), Hanna (Ronan) has been trained from birth to take care of herself. As the opening act progresses, we begin to understand that Hanna is clearly being trained...for something. She memorizes a fake identity and backstory for herself, all in preparation for her mission, which involves her deliberate capture. Enter Marissa Wiegler (Cate Blanchett), a CIA operative who has been waiting for Eric to re-emerge from hiding for years.

As we follow Hanna (and Eric for brief moments) as she journeys across Morocco, Spain, and Germany, her story, and the film as a whole, become stranger and stranger, mostly to the film's benefit. The script takes its time with developments, never rushing for the sake of getting Hanna from point A to B. When Hanna meets up with a British family on a road trip (headed by Olivia Williams and Jason Flemying), the film becomes quite funny, despite the looming threats of Marissa and her henchman Isaacs (Tom Hollander). In the scenes with the family, Hanna really allows its protagonist to develop further than merely as a fish out of water (which Wright executes with great skill in a scene in a Moroccan hotel). It's the first time when we get to see that Hanna is more than a super-skilled killing machine; she's actually a teenage girl, albeit a highly unusual one.

Making both of these facets of the character wholly believable is young Ms. Ronan, showing a maturity that seems eerily beyond her years. Like her co-star, Ms. Blanchett, Ronan is an inherently commanding presence. She flips the switch between killer and real girl so effortlessly, all the more impressive because the character isn't the most talkative person. Other roles are decently played, though no one is really given enough to make a mark. That is, except for Blanchett, slathering a thick Texas drawl on her lines, to hugely entertaining effect. Blanchett has a tendency to play more sympathetic characters in film, so it's a bit of a joy to see the actress cut loose in such a cold, menacing role. Wright works wonders with the performance as well, using a close up of Blanchett's wide-open eye to deliver a spectacular little jump near the film's end.

This of course brings us to the film's third biggest star, Mr. Wright himself. The film's screenplay, courtesy of David Farr and Seth Lochhead, certainly has its shortcomings. In spots it's too vague, and I'm sure the more I think about the film, the more little plot holes will pop up (they deserve credit though, for not feeling the need to over-explain everything). And that's why Wright deserves so much credit for making this film work. The director's visual flair remains fully intact despite the modern setting, and scenes across all locations are richly shot and decorated. The director even gets to throw in his most notable trick, a tracking shot, to superb effect in a slow-building pursuit that explodes into a fist fight. Action scenes as a whole are effective as well, because they're used strictly to further the plot, and are supported by characters who are actually in danger (please take notice, Zack Snyder). Aiding him in his vision is a pulsating score from The Chemical Brothers, which, despite being played too loud at times, adds immeasurably to the flow and ambience of scenes. In some spots, the style becomes a little too much and draws too much attention to itself. But on the whole, the elements mesh to constantly engaging effect.

Whatever its issues, and there are issues, Hanna is most certainly a case where a director (and his cast) elevate flawed material into something better than it was strictly on paper. In Wright's hands, what could have been a scatter-shot attempt at an artsy thriller becomes wholly compelling, even if it is somewhat on the shallow side. At its best, it's as cool and compelling as its protagonist's icy blue stare, and that's no small accomplishment.

Grade: B

Opposite ends of the spectrum: "Jane Eyre" and "Sucker Punch"

After several failed attempts to make it to the theater (please stay in Boston one more week, Of Gods and Men, I'm on my way), I managed to sneak in two viewings, and they were different, to put it mildly. One was an adaptation of a classic novel, and the other quickly revealed itself to be the wet dream of a 13 year-old anime/video game love trapped in a man's (and director's) body.

**I've also fallen woefully behind on the 30 Day Movie Challenge. Expect a massive catch-up post by the end of the week.

Jane Eyre - dir. Cary Fukunaga:

A brief disclaimer: I haven't yet read Bronte's classic novel. However, whether or not Fukunaga's film (from Moira Buffini's script) is faithful or not, the director's second film is a moody success, if a bit on the minor side. Opening somewhere in the middle of the story, we meet Jane (Mia Wasikowska) straggling across an empty, rainy English landscape. And from these opening moments, Fukunaga establishes his "bold new vision" (quoth the trailer) of Bronte's classic, and it really works. The first shot of Jane is practically a silhouette, appropriate considering how much of the color is infused in the sets and costumes. Fukunaga's film is sparse and generally un-romanticized, yet feels complete and quietly captivating.

And even though it's obvious that some sections of the novel have been trimmed or cut altogether, there's a steady, constantly engaging feeling that arises from the unhurried pace. Key to all of this, of course, is Ms. Eyre herself. Having successfully launched herself into the American conscience in Tim Burton's Eyesore in Wonderland 3D, Ms. Wasikowska is actually able to show off her capabilities as a leading lady here, and she does so with understated skill. I can't speak to whether or not she lives up to previous cinematic Jane Eyres, but she's certainly a damn good one, and her ability to communicate so much in the nuances of her performance, rather than through histrionics, is one of the film's greatest strengths. Matching her is Michael Fassbender as the conflicted Rochester, with whom Ms. Wasikowska has surprising chemistry. A conversation after Jane saves Rochester from small fire in his room, shot almost entirely in shadows, achieves a spectacular level of intrigue and hinted romance that is darker and sexier than anything Megan Fox (or her interchangeable counterparts) has ever done on screen.

Fukunaga's film also benefits from a roster of smaller roles (Jamie Bell, Sally Hawkins, Judi Dench), striking cinematography, and a delicate and dark score from Dario Marianelli (Pride and Prejudice, Atonement). However, despite its strengths, there are a few unfortunate missteps that even someone who hasn't read the book will be able to see. While Fukunaga's choice to open in the middle of the story works, when he returns to that point in the story, he lingers for too long, repeating too much footage as if he wanted to reach a specified run time by any means necessary. And in trimming down Bronte's work, certain scenes and character developments come across as too quick. When Mrs. Fairfax (Dench) mentions that Jane has been working at Rochester's mansion for three months, the revelation comes as surprise, as there's nothing resembling a transition to give us a feel for the passage of time. Similar events populate the rest of the film, to minor detriment. Yet while it isn't a masterpiece, or the new definitive silver screen "Jane Eyre," Fukunaga's second film establishes him as a diverse and daring director, one whose strengths far outweigh his shortcomings.

Grade: B/B+

Sucker Punch - dir. Zack Snyder:

I said that the two films in the post were on opposite ends of the spectrum. However, now it's time to see how extreme their opposition is. Having won legions of fans and haters with his first two films (300 and Watchmen), Mr. Snyder's latest film (his first non-adaptation) will likely only increase the passion with which people love or hate his work. Co-writing and producing an entirely Snyder-riffic vision, Sucker Punch can best be described as a CGI-flooded, faux-feminist clusterfuck of epic proportions.

It opens with surprising strength, in a silent intro/set-up as we meet Baby Doll (Emily Browning). After her mother dies and leaves her everything in her will, Baby Doll faces the wrath of her evil stepfather, who tries to rape her younger sister. After unsuccessfully shooting him (and killing her sister), Baby Doll is put in an insane asylum, where the head doctor is paid off to give her a lobotomy. While there, she meets a group of other girls, also wrongfully locked up, and they set out to escape. Kind of.

In a truly pointless bit of plot design that only serves to muddle the plot, Snyder inserts a second level of reality, before jumping off to his fantastical action set pieces. Here, the asylum is a front for a dance hall, where the inmates are made to perform erotic dances for wealthy male patrons. However, when Baby Doll dances (which we never see, because that would be sexist...unlike all of those shots of Baby Doll's legs and panties...), she imagines herself in a series of battle scenes. Translation, she's imagining herself imagining other things. This alone is enough to make Sucker Punch structurally non-sensical, and things don't pick up from there. The action scenes have their moments, but since we know it's all imaginary, there's no weight to any of what happens. It's just stuff. Really flashy, pixelated stuff. Granted, small moments of violence work, but without anything in the story or character departments to act as support, Snyder's fantasy collapses in on itself.

As for the cast, there isn't really much to it acting wise, although Abbie Cornish and Jena Malone try their hardest (a movie entirely about the two of them would have been much stronger). Browning, the film's lead, however, is something of a blank, while Jamie Cheung and Vanessa Hudgens smile, look worried, or cry while Oscar Isaac goes horribly over-the-top as the villainous Blue and Carla Gugino prances around delivering every line with a campy Polish accent. Jon Hamm shows up for no more than 2 minutes tops, projecting cool but getting absolutely nothing to do. Jon Hamm is a valuable resource, Mr. Snyder, please don't waste him. But worst of all is simply Snyder's insistence that this is something "deep" and empowering for women. That description couldn't be further from the truth. What's really here is the ultimate cinematic wet dream for fans of anime and/or video games who will likely continue to have to pay to be in the presence of beautiful women throughout their lives.

Grade: C-/D+

RIP Elizabeth Taylor

1932-2011

"Another Year" - REVIEW

The title and premise of Mike Leigh's latest film, Another Year, suggests the potential for a lagging, meandering, and weightless slice of life. It's the sort of film that could have easily sunk into tedium, especially considering its two hour run time and very limited plot/story. And yet through a key stylistic difference (I'll explain in a minute) and a strong group of performances, Another Year turns out to be one of the director's finest, and this is coming from someone who isn't exactly a fan of his.

Tom and Gerri (Jim Broadbent and Ruth Sheen) are a happily married couple living in the London area, and over the course of the film (broken up into four segments; one for each season), we see them interact with various friends and relatives, usually at a meal or outing. Yet the film doesn't begin with Tom or Gerri. An entire first scene goes by without either of the two appearing, and the focus of the scene is on a woman who only appears once more (in the very next scene) in the entire film (Imelda Staunton). On the other end of things, the film concludes with a lingering shot on someone other than Tom or Gerri as well. I bring this up because it plays into the strange discussion that has dominated talk of the film's awards season prospects: is actress Lesley Manville - as Tom and Gerri's friend Mary - in a leading or supporting role. Judging the film based on how it begins and ends, I got the sense that while Tom and Gerri ground the film, they aren't exactly the leads (at least not the primary leads). We may not see Mary at home or by herself, but she's the character we get to know best over the course of the film.

Either way, it's a shame that Manville has been largely overlooked over the course of awards season, because her work here stands among the best of the year, lead or supporting. Mary may not exactly have her life together (as evidenced by the jumpy manner in which she moves and talks), but Manville is careful not to take the performance to the point where she becomes annoying or exhausting. And part of this is, perhaps, due to one of the key changes that Leigh seems to have made in this film: he's either cut down on improvisation, or his direction and his actors have made their improvisation less obvious. So even though the film may still feel a little long in some parts (the final section, Winter, goes on just a little too long), the film has the overall feeling of being better constructed and less open than much of Leigh's previous work.

This is also, in large part, due to the strength of the performances. Manville may be the MVP here, but she's beautifully backed up by Broadbent and Sheen, along with smaller turns from David Bradley (AKA Mr. Filch from Harry Potter) and a stunning cameo performance from Imelda Staunton. Staunton in particular nails her two scenes at the film's beginning as a woman whose situation, though never specified, is in shambles. Despite the bleak nature of her scenes, she's one of the supporting characters you wish that Leigh would bring back in. Alas, that might have proven to be too much, and would have weighed down the film's happier segments (Spring and Summer).

But this is where we come to one of the problems with the film. Despite the general quiet warmth of the film, at times it does seem a little condescending. Everyone around Tom and Gerri is usually a mess of some sort, and they're all single, whether through divorce (Mary) or death (Tom's brother). The film seems to treat Tom and Gerri as slightly superior to everyone else simply because they're a happy couple, as though the only way to achieve happiness and stability in life is to be with someone. It's not a glaring issue, but it rears its head enough times to make it somewhat noticeable. The last shot also seems to reinforce this (while simultaneously evoking Mary as actually being the film's lead). For Tom and Gerri, the course of the film really does depict just another year, but for people like Mary, it depicts another year of loneliness and dissatisfaction.

Thankfully this is an issue that never becomes so prominent as to drag down the entire film. Leigh's writing, while a times a little drawn out, is effective at showing the connections among his characters, and his actors do a strong job of projecting a sense of camaraderie. And while it may not be as heartwarming as it's been advertised, it rings true enough in the right places to remain effective without becoming hopeless or bleak. And despite its title, it certainly deserves to be given a chance, because this is more than just Another Mike Leigh Film; it's one of his best.

Grade: B/B+

Villains revealed for "The Dark Knight Rises"

After months of waiting, Christopher Nolan has finally given us his villains for his third (and final) Batman film, The Dark Knight Rises, due out in July 2012. Anne Hathaway will play Selina Kyle, who traditionally becomes Catwoman, and Inception and Bronson star Tom Hardy will play Bane. Hardy's casting as Bane makes sense enough; he has the right look to play someone frighteningly equipped with brawn and brains in equal measure. According to Wikipedia, the character is even considered one of Batman's greatest powerful foes; apparently in one comic book storyline, he even manages to break Batman's spinal cord. Ouch.

Hathaway, on the other hand, is more of a question mark. She's certainly a talented actress, but she has a certain joy about her that makes it difficult for me to picture the future Oscar co-host as the classic villain/love interest. After all, Hathaway is nearly a decade younger than Christian Bale, which has the potential to cause chemistry issues. Then again, the character could simply be more Selina Kyle, and less Catwoman. She could start off as another love interest, and the film could set up for her transformation, either within the film or as an incomplete subplot (though that would be odd, considering that Nolan isn't returning after TDKR).

To be fair, many of us had similar thoughts when Ledger was cast as the Joker ("how on earth is that guy going to become the Joker!?!?!"). And of course, we aren't even remotely close to knowing what the Nolan brothers' (plus David S. Goyer) vision/design is for the character. It's safe to assume that she'll be scaled down somewhat in terms of flamboyance (Nolan's bat-verse is pretty free of camp). And I doubt that we'll be seeing anything like this:

All in all, the pair of Hathaway and Hardy make for an interesting pair of casting choices. The film doesn't begin shooting until April or May, which means we won't get any grainy on-set photos from afar for quite a while now. Hopefully Nolan and co. will give out a costume sketch or something along the way, but if not, we'll simply have to play the waiting game.

"Blue Valentine" - REVIEW

Blue Valentine, Derek Cianfrance's (temporarily NC-17 rated) look at a marriage gone awry, opens with a simple enough scenario: the family dog has gotten out of her cage, and is missing. Yet by the time this scene concludes (and an answer is still not given), the film has elegantly, effectively shown you that Dean (Ryan Gosling) and Cindy's (Michelle Williams) marriage isn't in great condition. It's scenes like these, some downcast, some charming, that allow Blue Valentine to reach the filmmaking and acting highs that it does.

As the film's only two real characters (in the sense of being fleshed out), it's up to Gosling and Williams to create a compelling doomed couple, and in this they succeed. It's not necessarily because they're written (initially) as likable people, but rather because of the skill and commitment that the two actors bring to their performances. A scene where Williams almost goes through with an abortion chills all the way down to the bone thanks to the actress's subtle skill at communicating her gradual change of mind.

As a result, neither half of the story ever feels shortchanged, because we believe this couple in their happier days and in their more dour moments. Some have accused the film of being slanted against Williams' character (Cianfrance based it - somewhat - on an actual relationship), but if anything the film leans slightly in the opposite direction. Cindy goes through with her plan to study medicine and becomes a nurse, whereas Dean gives up on his own potential and settles, never actually acting to make life for the household better, even if he wants it. And when the first, only really, explosive argument hits, it all rings true.

Labeled as a love story in reverse, Cianfrance's film is more of a love story put in a blender. It jumps often between the two sides of the film (Dean and Cindy getting together and happy vs. Dean and Cindy married and at odds with each other), though never to be confusing. Transitions between the two sides of the film are handled with a number of elegant linked cuts. A scene in which "Past Dean" look across a hallway and sees Cindy for the first time is followed by a reaction shot of present-day Cindy staring off at something else. These cuts, along with the strangely effective soundtrack by Grizzly Man and near constant presence of the color blue, help add the tiniest flourishes of style in a story that we know is headed for a bad place.

Unfortunately the film, like the relationship, has its issues. Some of the normal cuts between time periods can give off a sense of bi-polar film making, rather than two elegantly woven halves. And though much of the film works, it does sometimes lag. At 1 hour and 50 minutes, it never drags to the point of tedium or boredom, but let's just say that there are a handful of places where you might find your mind wandering. A few minor characters, though played effectively, feel unfortunately one note (ex: Cindy's angry father).

On the whole, though, Cianfrance, through the strong work of his leads, is able to craft a compelling look at a match not quite made in heaven. It never descends into melodrama or engineers cheap ways to elicit overwrought screaming matches from its characters. Films like this are often sunk by aspects like direction or script, and even with the handful of issues with the writing, Cianfrance's film easily stays afloat thanks to the keen awareness of his direction, and the wonderful work from his committed leads.

Grade: B/B+

Two Gentlewomen of 2010: "Made in Dagenham" and "Easy A"

In most years, there's likely to be at least a handful of articles bemoaning the lack of strong roles for women. Thankfully, 2010 was determined to not become such a year, and on the large part has proven successful in both awards contenders and the unrecognized. And last night I was able to see two more films headlined by well-received leading ladies to add to the roster. Unfortunately, one was quite good, and the other was simply alright:

Made in Dagenham dir. Nigel Cole:

In 1968 the 187 female machinists at Ford's plant in Dagenham went on strike to protest for wages equal to their male counterparts. This is the set-up for Nigel Cole's film about the women who fought for equal pay, as led by Rita O'Grady (Sally Hawkins), a married mother of two. And while the story at its center may be compelling from a civil rights standpoint, Cole's film is slightly lacking, largely due to the screenplay. Outside of Rita, many of the other women in the factory come off as rather one-note, and even Rita herself doesn't feel fully formed. There are a handful of angles to be worked in, but the film doesn't ever appropriately settle on one, which leaves us with four strands battling it out for various degrees of importance: Rita attempting to lead the strike, Rita trying to keep her family together, the behind the scenes discussions among Ford execs, and the increasing importance of the recently-elected Labor government. The result it that it's hard to feel much connection to the strike, which give the film the feeling that it is simply going through the motions to cover all of the major angles of the story.

That said, the performances are solid and watchable enough to almost make you care. Sally Hawkins does the best she can as Rita, and she's certainly likable enough, even though most of her struggle is only given surface exploration. This trait seems to define the cast's work: talented people making the most of what precious little they've been given by the script. Geraldine James as co-worker Connie and Miranda Richardson as Barbara Castle add some spark as two women stuck in two very different situations, and Rosamund Pike nails her handful of scenes as a wealthy, educated women whose husband treats her like a bimbo. Others, like Andrea Riseborough as mega-beehive-d Brenda feel more like cutouts rather than charmingly colorful ensemble roles.

What it all boils down to is a film that is inspiring in subject matter, but not in execution. The performances and production values are nice, but nothing to write home about. Similar to Agora, Made in Dagenham wants to both examine the larger picture of a story while also creating a compelling look at a central female figure. Unfortunately, like that film, this one struggles to maintain its balance, and the result leaves little worth discussing, good or bad.

Grade: B-/C+

Easy A dir. Will Gluck:

And now we come to (surprisingly) the better film of the two, even though it's *gasp* a high school (fake) sex comedy. Starring rising star Emma Stone, Easy A tells the story of Olive Pendergast, a California high school student who, in order to make herself noticeable, allows boys (mostly nerds) to tell people that they either slept with or fooled around with her in exchange for gifts. And for the most part, what could have been either tedious or overly reliant on crude humor, Easy A succeeds thanks to its humor and Stone's extremely fun turn as Olive. And for most of the film's 85 minute run time, it's actually quite funny, and benefits from having a talented cast (including Patricia Clarkson and Stanley Tucci as Olive's parents) to deliver the dialogue. Even in small roles like her breakthrough in Superbad, Stone has displayed good comic timing, and her first major lead role doesn't disappoint.

Unfortunately, other aspects can't quite measure up. Olive's often bitchy friend Rhi (Ali Michalka) doesn't work right from the beginning; she's too aggressive from the get-go, and the friendship never feels really convincing. Other aspects, like Bible-thumping students who serve more or less as antagonists, are too broadly drawn and feel like a cheap way of attacking holier-than-thou attitudes, and Olive's love interest (Penn Badgley) is a barely-there presence.

And yet despite the flaws (many of which start surfacing around the 1 hour mark), Stone holds it together with effortless charm and comedic skill. The movie around her isn't quite Mean Girls, but Stone herself certainly deserves an 'A' for her work.

Grade: B/B-

Year of the (girl with the) Dragon (tattoo)

Stieg Larrson's "Millennium Trilogy" became a mini-phenomenon in the US and a mega phenomenon everywhere else, on both page and screen. And even after the the last of the generally limp Swedish film adaptations was rolled out Stateside in November and you thought it was all over...NOPE. Likely-future-Oscar-winner David Fincher's American film version is currently filming and will hit theaters this December (it was originally set for late 2012). But of course, with a new adaptation comes a new Lisbeth, and that brings us to the good stuff.

The folks over at Joblo.com have two medium-size images from W Magazine featuring our new Lisbeth, Rooney Mara, and they're pretty impressive. As far as looks go, I think Noomi Rapace still has her beat, but as far as performance goes, well, we'll just have to wait and see, but this film is already sounding much better than the original. First was the news that Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross would be composing the score, following their phenomenal work on Fincher's The Social Network. And even better, according to this article (or something pulled from W...?) scribe Steven Zaillian has actually made...wait for it...changes:

The script, which captures the novel’s bleak tone (its original Swedish title was Men Who Hate Women), was written by Academy Award winner Steven Zaillian, who wrote Schindler’s List, and it departs rather dramatically from the book. Blomkvist is less promiscuous, Salander is more aggressive, and, most notably, the ending—the resolution of the drama—has been completely changed. This may be sacrilege to some, but Zaillian has improved on Larsson—the script’s ending is more interesting.

"You're damn right it's more interesting."

I know I'm beating a dead horse here, but I've never been completely sold on Larrson's stories. Lisbeth Salander always seemed like a concept or emblem rather than a fully realized idea, who really deserved to be the star of better novels handled by a better author. And by making such drastic changes, Lisbeth may finally have found a better creator in two forms: a screenwriter and a director.

One last note: I also loooove the change in character for Mikael Blomqvist. The role always felt like a transparent author-insert (or "Gary Stu") for Larrson, and as brought to life by He Who Shall No Longer Be Named, not terribly convincing or interesting. The decisions to make the character less of a womanizer AND to cast the much more talented Daniel Craig in the role should balance each other nicely. Hopefully the same will be true for Robin Wright as Blomqvist's co-worker Erika Berger, a role whose poor writing in the Swedish films often left acclaimed actress Lena Endre looking confused most of the time.

Birds of a feather: "Mother" (Korea) and "Vincere" (Italy)

Thanks to my new personal god, Netflix InstantWatch, I was lucky enough to view two foreign films that, given my recently established criteria, make the list for 2010. I've had a lackluster year in foreign language viewings (The Millennium trilogy and I am Love), and I'm desperate to find something worthwhile to put in my personal rosters. And while I didn't necessarily love either of the two films I watched, they're certainly better than the four mentioned above, and they feature two wonderful performances. And as I watched them, I had eerily similar reactions in regards to what I thought were the strengths and weaknesses.

What I liked:

The standouts from both films are their leading ladies: Mother's Hye-ja Kim and Vincere's Giovanna Mezzorgiorno. One fictional, one real, both rich, complex, surprising (especially Kim) performances that rank among the year's best. Were they both in English (and actually given a campaign), I have no doubt they would have taken in a sizable heap of critics awards at the very least (Kim managed to claim one, I believe from LA).

The production values, especially the cinematography. Vincere's visuals are certainly more obviously striking, and it fits with the bombastic tone of the whole film. Among its best is a shot of an open air structure as light and smoke filter through after a bombing, while the silhouettes of civilians run in panic. There's also a fabulous sequence involving Ida (Mezzogiorno) hanging onto an iron gate while snow pour down that stands as one of the loveliest visuals of the year. That said, Mother's camera work has its own, less flashy, pleasures, namely a handful of wide landscape shots. And of course, the final shot is a (very strange) thing of beauty.

The second halves. Both films run a tad over 2 hours, and both films also improve as they move along. As Mother enters its second hour, the story becomes more intriguing, and the mystery becomes more prominent. The tone also becomes more consistent, as does the type of music used in the score. The last 30 minutes take the film in an unexpected direction that's both twisted and satisfying. As for Vincere, it improves a little earlier (close to the 45 minute mark) when the historical aspects of the story have been cleared and the script narrows its focus down to Ida Dalser's confinement to an insane asylum. Though it sometimes becomes a little repetitive, Mezzogiorno is always there to keep the story worth sticking with, even if it does conclude with all-too-predictable historical title cards.

What I didn't like:

The first halves. Though Mother opens strongly, the remainder of the first hour feels uncomfortable, and in places simply strange. There are some very weird attempts at humor that don't really connect at all. As for Vincere, it can be strangely edited and even verges on confusing in spots. And when it's not doing that, it's being wildly bombastic, with intrusive (and sometimes repetitive) title cards and music that at one point resorts to having a chorus shriek "GUERRA!" over and over again.

The music. While both films have some fantastic music in their scores, there's also a fair amount that doesn't quite work. Mother's score occasionally jumps into this awkward Jazz-lite style that seems to want to wring some sort of forced deadpan comedy out of the story. Vincere's score on the other hand gives in to the urge to be as bombastic as one of Mussolini's speeches.

Mother: B/B+(?)

Vincere: B

"Red Riding: 1974" - REVIEW

While not exactly the happiest way to ring in the new year (cinematically speaking, at least; I've got a glass of champagne with me as I write this), I'm pleased to say that my last official viewing for the 2010 calendar year is a very good one. While I'm sure I could take a moment to speculate as to how watching a film that's the first in a trilogy is somehow thematically relevant to something in movies this year or even in my personal life, I won't because well, that's just cloying. Rather, let's get to the film I watched today to close out 2010:

Based on a series of horrifying true events in England, the Red Riding trilogy's first installment, directed by Julian Jarrold, begins in 1974. A young girl has vanished, the latest in a series of missing child cases. Journalist Eddie Dunford decides to investigate the disappearance, and in doing so unlocks an increasingly dark and sinister web of corruption in Britain's police force. Like 2007's excellent Zodiac, Red Riding is one of those detailed crime dramas that at times threatens to sink under the weight of the details, both known and unknown. But what makes this film different from Fincher's San Francisco-set tale is that we never see anything bad happen, at least, not to the victims. Dunford takes quite a beating in his quest to find the truth, but the film itself doesn't punctuate its main story with horrific side trips. And yet Jarrold's entry in the trilogy (based on David Peace's novel) is a steadily paced, yet engaging way to kick off what is sure to be an increasingly complex narrative.

While the performances are strong - Garfield is quietly sympathetic and Rebecca Hall continues her 2010 winning streak - Red Riding succeeds more in its craftsmanship. While it by no means rushes through the plot, the screenplay and the editing keep the scenes and story moving along at just the right pace to hold interest. We start, like Eddie, aloof and not terribly involved in the case of the disappearing girls, but little by little the film draws you in. Revelations are never sensationalized or turned into moments of high drama. Instead, Jarrold directs the flow of events with a calm, understated hand. His goal here isn't so much to dwell on the "oh the horror!" aspect of the crimes, but rather root us in the position of Dunford, a man slowly coming to terms with the fact that there's more to the vanished girls than a single predator.

This is beautifully echoed in the the film's greatest strength, Rob Hardy's brilliant cinematography. Hardy has a gift with framing, and makes even the most plain and ugly 70s architecture interesting to look at. More important though, is how often he uses limited focal range, sometimes leaving only a small portion of the frame sharp. Sometimes it's simply a stylistic choice, but in other scenes there's a nice complimentary feeling of Dunford's (and our) inability to see the whole picture. In what could have been a rather ordinarily shot film, Hardy's beautifully composed images lend this gritty story a sense of richness, without "softening" the ugliness.

Yet while the screenplay is generally strong, and is well handled by both director and actors, it occasionally throws in one too many details. A vaguely sketched out subplot involving the recent death of Eddie's father and his relationship with his mother don't entirely work, especially in one distracting and bizarrely edited scene that never clearly establishes whether it's a dream, hallucination, or reality. This issue, though, along with the film sometimes keeping us an inch too far out of the loop, seems relatively minor by the film's end. Like the rest of the film, the finale keeps a level head without reducing the impact, and the final sequence is a thing of beauty. And whether or not parts 2 and 3 live up to this first installment, Jarrold and crew can be proud that they've made a film that, while ambiguous at its end, still feels complete and satisfying.

Grade: B+

"True Grit" - REVIEW

Mattie Ross (Hailee Steinfeld) repeatedly announces that she is "only 14 years old," and unlike the original True Grit, which starred a 20-year-old Kim Darby as Mattie, when Steinfeld says it, it rings true. Only 13 when she shot the latest film from Joel and Ethan Coen, Steinfeld's role is much more important than it was in the 1969 original, and it's just one of the reasons why the Coens' remake (or rather, re-adaptation) works so well.

Like the original, True Grit tells the story of a Mattie Ross' attempt to track down her father's murderer by hiring a hard-nosed US Marshall named Rooster Cogburn. Now, as to just how close the Coens stuck to Charles Portiss' novel for their screenplay, I can't vouch, as I've never read the source material. That said, in going back to the text instead of the John Wayne film, they've found a way to make a film that is much more inline with their sensibilities, and even their sense of humor. This is a good thing, because if there's one thing that surprised me in True Grit, it's the amount of humor that runs almost consistently throughout the film.

And even though the humor (and the story) may not entirely have the typical Coen brothers sense of irony, it still feels as though something they would come up with if they felt like playing it a little on the safe side. Assisting them through these (relatively) tame waters is their impeccable cast. Though she's been placed in (and won) supporting actress in the critics awards thus far, Steinfeld truly deserves to be labeled as lead. Cogburn (Jeff Bridges) may be the iconic character from Portiss' story, but at heart the story belongs to Mattie and her quest for justice and vengeance. Steinfeld beautifully captures the sense that Mattie is both a girl mature beyond her years, and yet still, well, 14 years old. As for Bridges, the role remains something of an emblem rather than a fully-formed character. What background details we're given don't really sink in, as their used more to portray Cogburn as a man with a penchant for rambling. That said, Bridges, whose last collaboration with the Coens gave us the ultimate laid-back "Dude," is able to pull off the role, one which has such large boots to fill. But the real joy of the film (aside from the surprise of Steinfeld) is Matt Damon as Texas Ranger LeBeouf, who has been searching for Tom Chaney (Josh Brolin) for a separate crime. Damon, recently returning to comedy on NBC's 30Rock, gets to show off his comedic talents even more here, and he plays the slightly huffy, self-important Ranger with just the right touches, without making the character truly obnoxious or unbearable. A good part of the fun also comes from the fantastic (if at times overly wordy) dialogue, which is a mix of wild west gruffness mixed with a strange pseudo-Shakespearean tone (don't expect many contractions).

But good performances are nothing new for the Coen brothers. What's really, really surprising is the film's overall emotional impact. In a career long-dominated by black humor, irony, and in some cases flat out nihilism, True Grit ends up being surprisingly touching. I can't remember the last time that term applied to anything the Coens have done (if ever). Even with the comedic aspects of the film penetrating further into the story that one would expect, by the time it reaches its climax and begins to wind down, the result is actually moving (though completely free of schmaltz). While the story basics and characters may have been traversed before, for the Coens, True Grit is bold new territory well-explored.

Grade: B/B+

Trailer for Joe Wright's "Hanna"

Much more interesting that I thought it would be. This could have easily come off as something too kiddie-friendly, but Wright and co. really seem to be planting this firmly in the PG-13 area. Given the slightly less cartoonish look of this compared to, say, Kick-Ass, I'd be surprised if the film didn't attract some controversy for showing someone so young being so brutal (did she snap that woman's neck!?). And it's good to see Cate Blanchett back on screen after that awful Robin Hood film last year. We haven't seen Wright tested by action scenes before, which could end up hindering the film, but the cast and the footage here are strong enough to make me think that perhaps he's pulled it off.

"Rabbit Hole" - REVIEW

Losing a child can never be an easy experience. It's the sort of event that lingers and lingers, and even when you think it's gone, it finds ways of reminding you that it's still there in your thoughts. It's also a subject that has been done to death (excuse the pun) on film. It's an excuse for big weepy moments, filled with angst-y dialogue and blubbering. Sometimes it's the main part of a film, and somethings it's just a point in the overall story, but either way, it's a story/device that is often used to wring out tears, often by shamelessly yanking at audiences' heartstrings. And differing from these traits is exactly what makes Rabbit Hole, John Cameron Mitchell's adaptation of David Lindsey-Abaire's Tony-winning play, such a success.

One of the wisest choices Abaire made (he adapted the screenplay himself) comes down to timing. Instead of dealing with the loss of a child in the immediate aftermath, the story of Becca and Howie Corbett (Nicole Kidman and Aaron Eckhart) is set 8 months after the tragedy. This gives Abaire, Mitchell, and the actors room to play their roles as more fully formed characters, as opposed to "grief stricken wife" or "grief stricken grandmother." And most surprisingly, it even allows Abaire's script the opportunity to present moments of *gasp* humor. It's these tiny moments of levity and relief that keep the film from drowning the audience in mawkish, non-stop suffering. That his writing is often quite swift only helps the scenes and story move with a certain briskness that prevents the heavy tone from weighing the movie down the whole way through. And remarkably, Mitchell, known for such outrageous films as Hedwig and the Angry Inch, directs with a beautiful simplicity, working in just enough to keep to film from feeling stage-y. But of course, none of that would matter if the performances weren't up to task.

And leading the charge through it are Kidman and Eckhart as the central couple. Kidman, who's had a rough few years, finally gets a chance to show us what a three-dimensional actress she can be. She plays Becca as a woman who has been so battered by grief that it's left her as a jagged cliffside of a person. And yet, despite some of the things she says and does, the performance never goes overboard to the point where we dislike or hate her. Even early on when she calls out a grief-therapy session member for being a "god-freak," we get a sense of why this character is acting this way, even if we wouldn't have done the same thing. In both her quiet/layered scenes, and in her few "showy" ones, she sells the character, as does Eckhart, who is every bit her acting equal in this, and deserves every bit of recognition. As the more overtly sympathetic character, Eckhart never manipulates the audience into thinking that he's character is the "right one." The two of them together, both when they share scenes or when they're apart, create a beautifully compelling pair of performances that easily rank among the year's best.

Lending them support are Dianne Wiest as Becca's mother, who has endured loss of her own, Tammy Blanchard as Becca's free-spirit of a younger sister, and Miles Teller as the teenager responsible for the death of the Corbett's son. As the Corbetts interact with these and others, the story unfolds in a slightly episodic, but never clunky manner, clipping along at a generally nice speed, and bolstered by Anton Sanko's beautiful and delicate score. At moments, the script puts the actors into such awkward/tense places, that it feels as if they're performing on a high-wire, and the result is electrifying.

But what's best about it, above all, is the honesty in the script, the direction, and in the beautiful performances. The part of the film that hit me hardest - no spoilers - was one that if I were to describe it, would probably make you scratch your head. But in context of the film, it was a strange yet fitting point for the emotions that have been so deeply buried throughout the film to pour out. And best of all, when it seems like there's no way out for the characters or the audience, the film concludes on a perfect final scene that mixes in an appropriate dose of heaviness while still offering a glimmer of hope.

Grade: B+/A-