Review: "Haywire"

While The Hunger Games may have recently taken in over $150 million at the box office, the film is actually the second this year to feature a kick ass female protagonist. Steven Soderbergh's Haywire, despite underperforming, features this year's first breakout tough-as-nails heroine, in the form of Mallory Kane (Gina Carano, a mixed martial arts fighter). An ex-black ops assassin burned by her handlers via a set-up in Barcelona, Carano more than gives Katniss Everdeen a run for her money, even though Carano's acting is, when compared to Jennifer Lawrence, a bit lacking.

At its core, Haywire represents Steven Soderbergh at his leanest and most efficient. Though set in the present day, it carries the feel of a stripped down 1970s political action-thriller (minus most of the politics). For the most part, that's a good thing. Soderbergh and scribe Lem Dobbs' set ups are crisp and quick without feeling rushed, and the action is photographed and staged with a refreshing mix of clarity and lack of chaotic editing or shaky cameras. The aforementioned Barcelona incident, told largely only with images and David Holmes' excellent, varied score, demonstrates Haywire's best; there's a low key feeling to the action that slowly sucks you in and never goes overboard. This is a film that knows exactly what it wants to be, and there's never any hints that Dobbs' script is aiming for political commentary or deep characterization.

Unfortunately, the film is still hindered by what should be its greatest asset: Ms. Carano. Soderbergh has pulled out strong work from non-actors before (Sasha Grey in The Girlfriend Experience), but here he can't quite cover up Carano's inexperience. Carano has the look and presence to be the badass Mallory is supposed to be, and in the fight scenes she's great fun to watch. Yet every time she opens her mouth, the dialogue is delivered in tones that register somewhere between lightweight and robotic. Worse is that the rest of the ensemble are all pros, and don't have enough to work with to really go wrong, which only makes Carano's missteps stick out further. As nice as it is to have a tough, nicely paced action film centering on a female protagonist, there were moments when I wished that one of Carano's co-stars (mostly Michael Fassbender or Ewan McGregor) had been the hero instead.

It's a shame, because if Soderbergh had been able to pull a better performance, the film could have been the stripped-down, stylistically tame cousin of Joe Wright's Hanna. That film featured a few bumps in the screenplay, but the strong work from the cast (namely Saoirse Ronan's fiercely committed turn), along with the direction and excellent technicals elevated it far above its pedestrian origins on the page. Haywire doesn't have that, which makes its stark simplicity less satisfying than it ought to be. I have to give major props to Soderbergh and the technical team for creating such a fun, taut film, but ultimately Carano's stiff performance is too big a factor in the film's success, and she's really the only thing holding it back.

Grade: B-

Review: "The Skin I Live In"

There is a scene in The Skin I Live In, the latest film from celebrated Spanish director Pedro Almodovar (Volver, Talk to Her) where a man in a silken tiger costume tries to rape a woman wearing a flesh-colored body suit. And as it turns out, that's not the craziest thing that happens in the film. But if you're up for a little craziness (okay, make that a lot), then Almodovar's plastic-surgery-revenge-horror-thriller (take a moment and let that genre cocktail sink in), might be just what you need, even if it's not among his finest efforts.

The film, which reunites Almodovar with Antonio Banderas, focuses on plastic surgeon Robert Ledgard, who develops a special type of synthetic skin capable of withstanding tremendous amounts of damage. The good doctor is also keeping a woman (Elena Anaya) locked up in room in his lavish Toledo home, for reasons completely unknown at the start of the film, even though the start is really near the story proper's conclusion. Like many a good tale, Skin involves a framing device and a lengthy flashback. And, like just about any Almodovar film, it also blends elements of noir, camp, and brooding melodrama. The script, also written by Almodovar, may be adapted from Thierry Jonquet's novel "Tarantula," but just as the Coen brothers did with No Country for Old Men, Almodovar has made the story entirely his own.

The emotions driving the film may not go much more than skin deep, but at the very least the execution offers up plenty to savor. As always, the color red sneaks its way into the frame at every opportunity, and Jose Alcaine's cinematography richly captures the mostly interior-set scenes. We're dealing with material that, without spoiling anything, could have easily turned into Hostel-style shlock. Thankfully, we have a master at the helm to keep things under control. Horror and thriller elements may be involved in the story, but Almodovar doesn't go over the top; he keeps the major freak-out element grounded within the rest of the narrative. So when the film really hits its stride, it's hard to look away, even at the comparatively tame scenes (rarely does a shot of a woman tearing up clothes feel so stylish and intense). Carried along by Alberto Iglesias' lush, frantic score, Skin features the director's eye for captivating imagery at its finest. That is, for part of the time.

Where the film gets into trouble isn't in the ending (there's no silly last-minute twist of any sort), but rather the beginning. Rather than elegantly setting up the story before moving into the big flashback, the first portion of the film is a scattershot sequence that keeps throwing things at the audience in hopes that something will stick. It's structural issues like this that keep scenes like the above-mentioned tiger man rape incident (I had to stop a second after realizing that I did, in fact, just type that) from achieving greater impact. With so little to latch onto at the start of the film, it's difficult to get invested or really care. The early sections also fall victim to exposition, which is especially irritating when we're told something, only to see it again in the flashback. Almodovar knows how to show so exquisitely, and it's puzzling as to why he sometimes resorts to telling like this.

Thankfully these issues don't sink the whole ship. In addition to the excellent technical aspects, the performances from Banderas, Anaya, and Almodovar regular Marisa Paredes, are all quite strong. Like the film around them, their work tends towards the surface only (Robert's desire for revenge never feels quite as passionately twisted as it should), but they are ultimately effective and play off of each other well. Banderas in particular is a nice surprise, playing his role quite straight, and never giving into the temptation to make him a mad scientist caricature. Almodovar has recently been known for his collaborations with leading lady Penelope Cruz, but Skin stands as a firm reminder that the director is more than capable of drawing strong work from his male leads as well. It's probably a good thing that the lead of the story is a man as well, because without Robert, I suspect just about every man who ever sees this film will walk out terrified to ever get on their girlfriend's bad side, especially if she's a surgeon. The Skin I Live In might not be the most accomplished or memorable of Almodovar's filmography, but at the very least it shows the director trying to change his game. One character tells Robert that stories always end up repeating themselves. Thankfully, the same can't be said about Almodovar's career.

Grade: B

Cannes Review Round-up: "The Skin I Live In" [+1 more]

When I hear the term "plastic surgery revenge film," my gut instinct is to think of some horrific torture-porn flick designed merely for gross-out moments and shock value. That is, unless you add "directed by Pedro Almodovar" to the description. In a departure from his normal blend of drama and campy humor, the director's latest takes us down a darker-than-usual road with The Skin I Live In, albeit with the auteur's style seemingly intact. Almodovar has gone to Cannes many times, but has yet to walk away with the top prize. Skin seems like it won't change that, but it sounds like it will prove to be another must-see entry in Almodovar's filmography:
The Guardian - Peter Bradshaw: (4/5 stars) "It it twisted and mad, and its choreography and self-possession are superb."

indieWire - Eric Kohn: (B-) "...Skin lacks the sensationalistic imagery one might expect from Almodovar. Cinematographer Jose Luis Alcaine keeps the images loud and expressionistic, but there's not much to look at."

Digital Spy - Mayer Nissim: (4/5 stars) "Yes, it's absurd. Yes, it's very, very silly, but The Skin I Live In is also a hell of a lot of fun."

Screen Daily - Finnaula Halligan: (N/A) "At times The Skin I Live In feels like rejuvenation for the 61-year-old director. Despite the dark theme, it boasts his confident playfulness of old." "Antonio Banderas flourishes in this return to Spanish-language film-making."

Rope of Silicon - Brad Brever: (B) "There have always been layers to Almodovar's films, but I just wasn't ready for the darkly comic tone that shows itself in fits and spurts."

The Playlist - James Rocchi: (B-) "With The Skin I Live In, [Almodovar] clearly jolted and wrested himself out of any potential rut; the concern is now, rather, what to make of the new territory he, and we, are in."

The Hollywood Reporter - Kirk Honeycutt: (N/A) "The film's design, costumes, and music, especially Alberto Iglesias' music, present a lushly beautiful setting, which is nonetheless a prison and a house of horror." "There are well-timed laughs that lessen the melodrama and underscore that Almodovar remains ever a prankster."

Variety - Justin Chang: (N/A) "...despite its scalpel-like precision, pic falls short of its titular promise, never quite getting under the skin as it should."

FirstShowing.net - Alex Billington: (9/10) "It was a wild and crazy experience, to be frank, but damn good." "Banderas is the best he's been in years, intense at times, sensual at others, a tour de force that brings a quality that this so great."


Additional Comments: Critics generally praise the performances and Almodovar's style. However, some feel that the film's tonal shifts aren't always clear enough. Artistic aspects get full marks, however, especially the cinematography and score.


Cannes Verdict: It's not Almodovar's next masterpiece, but The Skin I Live In is a lush and atmospheric pseudo-thriller that shows the director with a renewed energy.