Review: "Phil Spector"

Director: David Mamet
Runtime: 92 minutes

Only a few months ago, Kathryn Bigelow's Zero Dark Thirty was kicking up controversy in regards to its depiction of torture, as well as its alleged accuracy. Despite having access to top-level information and testimonials about the hunt for bin Laden and the raid on his compound, the film was still subjected to scrutiny (some appropriate, and some overblown). This was, after all, a film trying to be faithful to history...or at least to the history that was put forth to Bigelow and Mark Boal from their sources. Yet despite this controversy, Zero Dark Thirty's overall artistic integrity has (deservedly) remained intact. Whatever mistakes there were, the film captures, if not factually, then at least thematically and emotionally, a complicated slice of modern American history. 

Yet what happens when a film takes a similarly well-known (and much more intimate) piece of history, and decides to throw out any pretense of accuracy? You end up with something like Phil Spector, the latest movie/prestige project from HBO. Despite depicting some very real events, the film declares outright that it is a work of fiction about real people and real events (in this case, the first trial of Phil Spector, which ended in a mistrial). 

It's a bold creative choice on behalf of writer/director David Mamet, and it allows him to toy with reality without the scrutiny that often comes with projects based on real people and events.  But for some it will also prove slightly troubling, as Mamet's film plays with the facts to make a point about a man who, guilty or not, has been cemented in the minds of millions as something of a grotesque weirdo. Above all else, that seems to be the point of Mamet's creative decisions: this Phil Spector (and possibly the real one), was ultimately convicted because of who he was, regardless of what he did. 

But even though Spector (Al Pacino) is the title character of the film, he's not exactly Mamet's protagonist. That would be attorney Linda Baden (Helen Mirren), who guided Spector through his first trial. For nearly 20 minutes, Mamet introduces us to Baden, who is initially desperate to leave her office and boss (Jeffrey Tambor) behind so that she can take a vacation. Yet after some persuasion, Baden takes on Spector's case, even as her health begins to suffer (she eventually winds up with pneumonia).

Appropriately, Baden truly becomes invested in the case once she (and we as the audience) first meet Spector in his mansion, complete with some wonderfully eccentric decor. In large part, this is because Pacino, though playing a bit towards the surface, grabs the role by the reins and never lets go. Initially casual and dismissive of the charges, as time passes he begins to crumble under the pressure of the accusations, media scrutiny, and protests. 

As easy as it is for Pacino to venture into histrionics, he largely keeps the fire beautifully under control, and only unleashes his fury when necessary. In the film's most on-point sequence, Spector loses his cool not in the actual court room, but in a staged mock trial designed to prepare him for testifying. Said mock trial takes place in a fully dressed stage, with lights and props, yet also gaps that allow us to see into the dark corners of the sound stage. It's the film's and Pacino's best moment, and it only makes sense that one of the film's most passionate sequences is also one of its most clearly artificial, given the opening disclaimer. 

Mirren, on the other hand, is much more grounded as the increasingly weary (and sick) Baden. For much of the film, which runs a brisk 90 minutes, Mirren is the straight man to Pacino's slowly-unravelling eccentric. Her presence is certainly welcome, but Mamet's screenplay favors Pacino when it comes to interesting dialogue and engaging moments. Only in the final act does Baden really start to come to life as a character, and Mirren captures her mix of exhaustion and don't-screw-with-me attitude with understated elegance. 

Where Phil Spector falls short comes down to its willingness (or lack thereof)  to probe the psyches of its characters. Mamet knows how to write lively, sharp dialogue, and he guides his performers well, while also displaying a level-headed control of tone and pacing. Yet beneath the words on the page, there isn't much more. The film is strictly a slice of the moment for Spector, Baden, and the rest. While the script does make nice tie-ins to its idea that Spector was really found guilty of being a creep, as a character he's not much more than a creep (albeit one with a huge god complex). 

Mamet captures the fascinating and eccentric surface of Spector, but doesn't go far beyond that. If anything, it's Pacino's performance that elevates the material, and makes this problem less noticeable until after the credits roll. Unlike the aforementioned Zero Dark Thirty, Phil Spector's scope is much less expansive, which leaves the film feeling less well-rounded than Bigelow's film. Zero Dark Thirty captured both one woman's journey, as well as a wide-reaching, decade-spanning moral grey zone of American history. All that Phil Spector has is one eccentric, one attorney, and a trial that we never even see. Mamet may make his point concisely, but he does so at the expense of creating a film with more substantive and meaningful results. 

Grade: B/B-

Review: "The Debt"

Originally set for release in 2010, John Madden's The Debt, an English language version of Israeli film Ha-Hov, has had its release date moved more than once. Such delays are usually not a good sign, especially when the move is from fall to the end of August, usually considered a dumping ground for projects that studios want to die quietly. However, Madden's film actually belongs in the company of The Road and this spring's The Adjustment Bureau, in that it's a very solid film with generally effective direction and performances.

Opening in the late 60s, before quickly jumping to 1997, The Debt traces lives of three Mossad agents tasked with tracking down Dieter Vogel, who earned the nickname the Surgeon of Birkenau during World War II for his sadistic experiments on prisoners. In the years since the mission, Rachel (Helen Mirren/Jessica Chastain), Stephan (Tom Wilkinson/Marton Csokas), and David (Ciaran Hinds/Sam Worthington) have become heroes; Rachel's daughter has even written a book detailing the lives of the trio over the course of the mission. Unbeknownst to everyone but the three, however, is a secret that may or may not be coming back to haunt the three agents.

Before I continue, I'll confess that it doesn't really take much work to figure out the most basic details of the agents' secret. Thankfully, Madden and co. play the script, adapted by Matthew Vaughn, Jane Goldman, and Peter Straughan, straight to the point where the film's effectiveness does not hinge on the twist. Instead, The Debt is more concerned with creating the right atmosphere, which it certainly does. From the shabby looking interiors in the main flashback, to the muted colors in nearly every frame, Madden and DP Ben Davis more than convincingly capture the bleak look and feel of East Berlin. There may be a certain slickness to the story telling and editing, but the film is still appropriately gritty and free of sensationalism. Even when we're shown a key scene twice, almost shot-for-shot, there's still a sense of foreboding tension. It also manages to jump between time periods without resorting to cheap amounts of summary about the past. What could have been an overly-talky, exposition-filled story is instead a very well-paced Cold War thriller that breezes through its 114 minute run time with few dips in energy.

The generally fine ensemble is but another plus. Characters are not rendered with as much depth as the script suggests (young Rachel's moments of fragility, young David's unexplained distance from others), but the actors are more than convincing with what they're given. Mirren, as always, is reliable as the tough and conflicted Rachel of the film's present, while Wilkinson and Hinds do what they can with what amounts to barely any screen time. But if the older versions of the agents aren't given as much time to make an impression, thankfully their younger selves do. Chastain, in yet another completely different role, is both graceful and tough as Rachel, while Sam Worthington gives a surprisingly solid turn as David. Csokas is good as well, although his role feels the least conflicted of the three, so he's given less to work with. The real star of the film, though, is none other than its villain, played by Jesper Christensen. As Vogel, he makes a compelling shift from deranged hostage to sly manipulator. The way he tries to wear down his captors is supremely unnerving to watch, even if he too is somewhat lacking in depth. So even though the character might at times verge on being a dark cartoon, Christensen makes it convincing to watch. The writing may never effectively bring out Rachel's occasional breakdowns, but when Chastain and Christensen interact, the film at least shows us how intimidating certain people can be, even when they're completely helpless.

It's these interactions that make me wish that The Debt had given its characters more room to become fully rounded. The material here could be nicely expanded into a longer film, or maybe even a three or four part miniseries, quite comfortably. Watching Vogel mess with the agents is one of the film's highlights, but it could have allowed for some truly masterful filmmaking and acting had it been given more room to play out. Instead, the film reduces itself to being more of a fun and gritty, albeit inconsequential, potboiler. There are issues of truth and justice raised, but the film only introduces them in key moments, never delving deeper. When Wilkinson and Mirren have an argument regarding what ought to be done, it feels much too quick considering what's at stake. And despite its generally strong execution, there are a handful of scenes that get overheated, with jarring cuts and unnecessary amounts of noise. I suppose this was Madden's way of showing the stifling nature of the agents' lives once they become trapped inside their own headquarters, but when put up against the film's less bombastic scenes designed to do the same thing, it feels out of place.

All in all, though, it's hard to deny that The Debt is ultimately a success. It tackles its subject matter appropriately, if a bit on the shallow side, and has a cast full of solid performances, even if not everyone is used to their best ability (Ciaran Hinds in particular). And, by not letting the story exist solely to build up to a twist, the film feels more watchable. There's no big surprise that would make the The Debt less compelling on a second viewing, and the story goes to a rather effective, unhurried ending once the twist is revealed. So even though it may not be the potential awards contender that some were once predicting it to be, The Debt is a nicely executed, mature thriller, even if it isn't necessarily must-see filmmaking.

Grade: B/B-

Trailer for Julie Taymor's "The Tempest"

Well I guess I can see why the reviews have been so mixed, because I have no idea what I just watched. No, really, what the hell was that? The costumes look great and the actors seem solid enough, but those special effects, especially the dogs and CRAZY BIRDMAN BEN WHISHAW are all over the place. I really, really loved Taymor's last stab at Shakespeare (Titus) so my hopes were pretty high for this one, but this trailer really isn't doing a lot to bolster my excitement in the face of the reviews.

Trailer for "Red"

So...Helen Mirren has a machine gun. I think I've said all that needs to be said.

Taylor Hackford's "Love Ranch" finally gets a trailer

Here's the synopsis from AwardsDaily: Inspired by the story of Joe and Sally Conforte, proprietors of the Mustang Ranch, the first legalized house of prostitution in Nevada. Boxer Oscar Bonavena was gunned down at the ranch in 1976, suspected of having an affair with, Sally, the madam.

Hmmm...not really sure what to make of this one. It could be really compelling, but then again there's the issue of how Hackford treats the subject matter, which is thorny enough as it is. And it's probably not a fair judgement, but the mere presence of Gina Gershon is making me have Showgirls flashbacks, which is not a good thing. If the film tries to totally martyr-ize the Conforte's, it could be a problem (this was an issue I took with Steven McQueen's Hunger, which felt slightly in favor of its hunger-striking protag, who was a member of the IRA in its bloody, terroristic heydey...). That said, without being too premature, Dame Mirren should probably start preparing herself for another Oscar campaign, seeing as she'll have The Tempest coming out too.