Review: "Anna Karenina"

Director: Joe Wright
Runtime: 130 minutes

Shakespeare's immortal line "All the world's a stage..." has never applied to a film so literally as it does to Joe Wright's Anna Karenina, the latest adaptation of Leo Tolstoy's classic novel. Filmed almost entirely inside of a dilapidated theater, the film's characters walk across stages, climb through rafters, and move seamlessly from place to place as sets transform around them in real-time. It is, as the marketing has billed it, a bold new vision of Tolstoy's work. Yet is there a price to pay for such heavy artifice? The film runs a little over 2 hours, and Wright and screenwriter Tom Stoppard have obviously omitted or streamlined parts of the 1000 page novel. Yet do these changes, combined with the stylistic conceit, detract from the overall quality and impact? It's hard to say, as Wright's film is the rare sort of classic literary adaptation that is likely to inspire extreme division, between those swept up by the execution, and those turned off by what could be seen as a nuance-free adaptation.

For those not terribly familiar with the story, Anna is set in Imperial Russia in the 1870s, and charts the fall of the distinguished titular character (played by Keira Knightley) in high society after a passionate affair. Yet Anna's infidelity towards her husband (Jude Law) is not the story's first bit of romantic betrayal. We're first introduced to Anna's brother Oblonsky (Matthew MacFadyen), a husband and father who engages in a brief affair of his own. It is in Anna's journey to smooth over the relationship between Oblonsky and his wife Dolly (Kelly MacDonald) that she first meets the dashing Count Vronsky (Aaron Johnson), who inspires actual feelings of attraction in Anna, as opposed to her respectful but love-less marriage to Karenin. 

And now is as good a time as ever to admit that, outside of a few chapters, I have not read Tolstoy's novel. As such, I can't tell you how Anna Karenina "should" be played on screen, and if the character offers room for different interpretations. What I can say is that Ms. Knightley, in her third collaboration with Wright, presents her as a woman forced too early into maturity. Anna can be coy, flirty, or petulant at a moment's notice. As best as she tries to maintain the steely composure of a dignified member of the upper class, the facade cracks often as she struggles to reconcile her choices with the effects they have on her social life. She is, whether by choice or not, beyond being a girl, yet still not quite comfortable as a woman (I promise that this isn't a reference to that Britney Spears song). Where she stacks up against other big screen incarnations of the character, I can't say. However, despite the odd bump or two, Knightley and Wright's interpretation of the character is a success on its own terms, even if she is rendered less complex that she likely was on page. 

Yet even though Anna's troubled romance with Vronsky is the story's focus, it is the supporting cast who dominate the film. That is, when they're given enough to do, and have scenes that allow them to breathe. MacFadyen is particularly lively, with his portly joviality and walrus mustache accompanying his grandiose swaggering. It is thanks to MacFadyen (and Stoppard's script), that the film generates a surprising amount of laughs. Even though these lighter moments are mostly confined to the film's opening (which has fun sending up the performative nature of upper class rules and rituals), they lend Wright's film a liveliness and an energy that is then carefully slowed down as emotions deepen.

If MacFadyen is the comedic king of the supporting cast, it's Law who reigns on the dramatic end of the spectrum. Kept out of sight early on, the actor - severely de-glammed with a horrible hairdo - brings a sophisticated toughness to Karenin that refrains from making him a simple antagonist. Karenin is stern and abides by his moral code, yet he remains understandable, even though his attitude towards Anna can easily be seen as cruel.

But then there are those who move outside of the grand artifice of the theater. Levin (Domnhall Gleeson), a young man seeking Oblonsky's romantic assistance, rejects high society, and takes the story to a series of naturalistic settings. While the others fret about morals and manners, Levin makes his living out in the wheat fields, free from gossip and constricting social identities. As a result, Levin's relationship with young socialite Kitty (Alicia Vikander) feels, appropriately, more honest and heartfelt, whereas other relationships veer toward heightened melodrama. 

This marks, perhaps, the one key drawback to the film's structure and Mr. Stoppard's screenplay. Wright's Anna Karenina has energy, but it can also feel truncated. As well as much of the film flows along, it occasionally lurches forward with emotional developments, particularly when it comes to Anna and Vronsky's affair. And even though Knightley generally holds up her end of the relationship nicely, Johnson's Vronsky comes with a surprisingly lack of allure. The strange blonde dye job is forgivable. The fact that Johnson and Knightley sometimes seem to pretend that they're interacting with someone other than their scene partner? Less so. As such, neither Anna's fall from grace, nor her ultimate fate register as strongly as they could. Though the film descends from its outrageous stylization as it progresses, it can't quite hop off of the pedestal to become fully human. Wright strives for an epic romantic tragedy, yet he doesn't make it all the way there. Consider it a case of landing among the stars after shooting for the moon.

Where the film does fully succeed, to little surprise, is in its visual and sonic departments. The sets, whether realistic or purposefully stagy, are intricate and often create the effect of looking at a series of beautiful moving tableaus. Jacqueline Durran's costumes, with a wide array of colors, head ornaments, veils, and fur-lined garments, constantly top themselves the further the film goes on. Throw in cinematographer Seamus McGarvey to capture it all, and you have a truly sumptuous experience that sweeps your senses off of their feet, even as it sometimes leaves the heart behind. Usual Wright composer Dario Marianelli is also back after skipping out on Hanna, and provides suitably seductive, lush musical accompaniments that transform the story from classic romantic literature to full blown opera. Whatever your thoughts on Wright as a director, there's no doubt the man knows how to create beautiful (and often compelling) images even as he flirts with indulgence. From an aesthetic standpoint, consider Anna Karenina a two hour ride in a Rolls Royce outfitted by Chanel and Swarovski.

How fans of the book will react to this adaptation is, as previously stated, difficult to say. Some may find Wright's streamlined take enthralling. Others may find it to be a garish watering down of one of Russian literatures greatest works. Yet wherever you stand on the film (even if you haven't read the book), it's hard to not be impressed by the daring approach. Many adaptations are sunk by a slavish faithfulness to the source material. At the very least, Wright and his cohorts deserve a degree of admiration for creating such a wholly cinematic vision of a novel that, in its entire complexity, was probably never truly meant for the big screen.

Grade: B/B+

Review: "360"

When a director makes a big splash with a debut or with a film that catapults them into new found recognition, an extra amount of scrutiny is thrust upon any following work. Fernando Meirelles has been working as a director since the early 80s, but he didn't make his mark on world cinema until 2002's stunning City of God. Focused on a very singular world - the slums of Rio De Janeiro -  Meirelles turned out a visually striking and relevant film about poverty and crime. Fast forward a decade, and the director has expanded his vision to more than a single city, with incredibly diminished results. Obvious and lacking anything resembling suspense, passion, or insight, 360, the latest film from Meirelles, lives up to its title to the point that it goes almost nowhere.


Inspired by Arthur Schnitzler's play "La Ronde," the film weaves a series of stories across the globe into what one hopes would be quite a powerhouse of a narrative. Unfortunately, the problems in 360 become evident all too clear. Despite some smooth and smartly employed split screen work, many of the characters couldn't be less interesting. Among the ensemble, Jude Law and Rachel Weisz, as a pair of unfaithful spouses, are truly wasted. Law, in particular, is stuck in a small series of scenes that merely exist, without anything there to drive the film from a narrative or thematic standpoint. Other cast members are given more to do, but suffer a similar fate, stuck with story threads that border on being vignettes, which isn't quite the film's goal.


The lone bright spot is Ben Foster, playing a convicted sex offender temporarily on leave. In a critical scene set in an airport hotel, the actor brings an intensity and depth missing from all of the film's other scenes. In that one moment 360 feels alive and filled with some sense of purpose. Unfortunately, once the scene ends, we basically never see Foster again, and the film resumes its unintentional aimlessness. Other performers (other than the big names in the cast) perform capably, yet there's nothing they can do to overcome the writing (a Bulgarian subplot feels particularly empty, despite everything that happens). Peter Morgan's script feels, sadly, like a very rough sketch or first draft, with all of the characters and arcs feeling too distant for the film's own good. 


So when it all comes together for the finale and lives up to its tagline ("Everything comes full circle"), all that's left to do is shrug and say "...and?" 360 seems almost built on a gimmick, to have its narrative come full circle and then, surpriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiise, conclude with a scene identical to its opening, albeit with different characters. Though it borders on predictable, there are plenty of films with similar ideas that carry it off well. Here, however, it just feels like an inevitable conclusion to a thoroughly dull affair that feels too long (certainly a lot longer than 2 hours) and too empty to justify its existence. This is one of those films where all of the ideas were down on paper or in someone's head, but never even came close to achieving the proper transition to the screen. Other unsuccessful films like this include 2006's Babel, of which I'm no fan. But that film at least has some emotional resonance, as contrived and manipulative as it is.The methods may be cruddy, but at least there's an attempt to connect to the audience and make them feel. 360, by contrast, runs on autopilot the whole way through, never trying to be anything more than a series of scenes strung together just so it can have a been-there-done-that hack job of an ending.


Grade: D+

Trailer: Joe Wright's "Anna Karenina"

Teased as being a revolutionary take on Tolstoy's classic novel of forbidden love, Joe Wright's return to highbrow literary adaptations looks as (if not more) gorgeous as his previous films (we'll pretend The Soloist didn't happen). Wright's last outing was the deliciously strange Hanna (2011), a successful deviation that benefited from his lush style. Now that he's back in his comfort zone, expectations will likely be higher, considering both the source material and the execution. Using a series of sound stages, the fill will allow for unique transitions between and among locations, with doors opening out onto fields, trains running through the set, and more. Rumors indicate that the execution is both more and less avant garde than previously stated, but overall, Wright's Anna looks like a truly sumptuous and dazzling film. In addition to Keira Knightley and Jude Law, the film boasts a stellar supporting cast, including Emily Watson, Matthew Macfadyen (from Wright's Pride and Prejudice), and Olivia Williams. The British accents seem a little odd, considering the story's purely Russian identity, although perhaps it's for the best, considering that a film full of poorly executed Russian accents would be even more off-putting. Still, this minor quibble aside, Anna Karenina looks like an energetic and lush period film with the added benefit of its unconventional setting(s). The only question left is, "how many tracking shots will Wright manage to sneak in this time?"


Grade: A-

Review: "Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows"

When I reviewed Guy Ritchie's Sherlock Holmes (2009), I made a remark that his set-up of the character followed a path eerily similar to that of Christopher Nolan's Batman Begins (2005). Both films took a classic character and reinvented them, while squaring them off with a relatively mundane antagonist. Both films also concluded with a set-up for a sequel that would introduce the hero's most famous villain. For Batman, it was the Joker, as embodied by Heath Ledger in The Dark Knight (2008); for Holmes, it's Prof. Moriarty. Both characters represent the ultimate challenges for their respective protagonists. They are, essentially, their doubles; the corrupted versions of the heroes had they fallen into a path of darkness. The big difference, at least on screen, is that where Mr. Nolan's sequel was a grander, richer, darker film, Mr. Ritchie's follow-up gives us more of the Holmes that audiences loved two years ago, only with diminished results.

Opening some vague amount of time after the '09 film, A Game of Shadows quickly plunges us into a world uncomfortably close to war. A series of assassinations and bombings have put mainland Europe on edge. For Holmes (Robert Downey Jr.), however, it can all be traced to Prof. Moriarty (Mad Men's Jared Harris), even though he doesn't have the concrete evidence to prove it. At the same time, Holmes must deal with the potential loss of his closest ally, Dr. Watson (Jude Law), who is about to get married. Things change, however, when Holmes and Moriarty start to clash, and the pair must find a way to prevent the Professor from setting the entire continent ablaze with war.

Yet whatever fun there was in Ritchie's take on the classic Conan Doyle character in the first go-round suddenly seems depleted here. The opening sequences, which reintroduce Rachel McAdams' Irene Adler, fail to stick, even though they directly involve Moriarty himself. Rather than advance the world he established last time, Ritchie appears to have become lazy here, and the flow of scenes often feels like it's missing a certain extra oomph. Even the fight scenes, which start off with Holmes playing through possible scenarios in his head before progressing to the real action, don't inspire the same level of fun they did just two years ago. While the portions that take place in Holmes' mind remain effective (and they lead to a fun twist on the concept at the conclusion), the actual fights feel sloppily staged and edited. When showing the nuts and bolts of how things work in drastic close-ups and slow motion, whether it's a fight scene or the firing of a machine gun, A Game of Shadows has some spark to it. But when it gets around to the more mundane parts of its action, the staging and choreography seem to vanish and become replaced with rapid-fire cuts.

This would be a smaller complaint were there not so many other unfortunate issues. The biggest problem the film has, a crucial flaw for an adventure of its nature, is the characters. At the outset, Holmes almost doesn't feel like himself; it's as if Downey Jr. decided to dispense with his previous interpretation and try his hand at a less wacky/drunk Jack Sparrow. The odd choice vanishes after the first 20 minutes or so, but it's puzzling nonetheless. Once it's gone, though, Downey Jr. becomes the Holmes that was so popular (and earned him a surprise victory at the Golden Globes) last time. Law's Watson remains the same, making a nice bro-mantic foil for Downey Jr., though never feeling quite as integral to the plot as he should. Noomi Rapace (the original Lisbeth Salander) is also here, but not given nearly enough to do, despite her connection to the story. Jared Harris, on the other hand, has enough to do, and makes for an effective Moriarty. The problem with the character, however, lies in the script. He and Holmes meet face-to-face as enemies quite early on. It's a technique that could have resulted in a devilishly clever battle of wits, but the film sidelines Harris too often. Worse, Moriarty's big scheme, evil though it may be, isn't executed on screen in a manner that makes it feel worthy of the character's reputation.

That's not to say that this is a completely joyless exercise, however. Though the humor doesn't work nearly as well as it did in the previous film, Downey Jr. and Law's chemistry remains firmly intact. And as over-stylized as some of the action sequences may be in their use of slow-motion, their slick assembly is a fun distraction from the otherwise middle of the road execution. A Game of Shadows does have a saving grace though, and it comes in where it counts: the ending. The film's entire last act, set in a Swiss castle perched on a waterfall, is an absolute blast, resulting in a face-off both physical and mental that is allowed to run its course, rather than be cut short for the sake of finding an ending. It's really a shame that everything that came before couldn't have been more effective, because by the time the film rolled around to its conclusion, I was ready to forgive it for its missteps. Unfortunately, as fun as the final act is, it can't undo the flaws that came before it, even though I'll bet that Mr. Ritchie really wishes that it could.

Grade: C+

Review: "Hugo"

A train crash occurs somewhere in the middle of Martin Scorcese's Hugo, and unfortunately, it's the perfect metaphor for the film as a whole. Despite the earnestness of Scorcese's efforts, the end result is a curious and curiously underwhelming film that suffers from a clumsy script and poor pacing. Coupled with the uneven Shutter Island, Hugo is enough to make one wonder if perhaps Scorcese's best days are at last behind him.

Adapted from the novel "The Invention of Hugo Cabret" by Brian Selznik, the film centers around Hugo (Asa Butterfield), an orphan in 1930s Paris who lives in a train station, and becomes entangled in a mystery revolving around a clockwork automaton. The film marks a rare foray into PG territory for Scorcese, but the film holds little for either children or adults to truly enjoy (though I suspect I'm in a tiiiiiiiny minority on this).

Hugo's biggest problem, unfortunately, is one that comes in right at the start: Scorcese and writer John Logan (The Aviator, Gladiator, Sweeney Todd) never properly establish Hugo as a character. Once the lovely opening shot(s) are over and the film moves into its first proper scene, one thing becomes clear: Ben Kingsley's toy store owner isn't the only one who doesn't understand Hugo; we don't understand him either. As Hugo refuses to explain himself, we can't feel anything for him because we have no reason to empathize with him when he withholds information from other characters. Once the film finally gives us Hugo's backstory (Hi, Jude Law!....Bye, Jude Law!), it's too little too late. This has an unfortunate ripple effect throughout the entirety of the film, and scenes that should be magical or moving feel muted. Throw in a pair of completely extraneous dream sequences, and you have a film that feels like it needs two or three (or five) re-writes.

More troubling is how weak the dialogue and character interactions are. There's rarely a moment that has any charm or wit, and the pacing and timing of the dialogue exchanges feels off by a few beats. Worse, there's a handful of characters who are even more poorly-set up than Hugo himself. Sacha Baron Cohen's station manager, a man who spends much of his time trying to catch orphans, always seems to be just, well, there. We never get a proper introduction to him, and yet we're expected to fear him whenever he appears. Even less fortunate are Frances de la Tour and Richard Griffiths as a pair of older merchants at the train station whose attempts at romantic connection are thwarted by de la Tour's yappy dog. No one fares worse, however, than Emily Mortimer, who has precisely two brief, uninformative scenes before showing up at the ending as though she's supposed to mean something. It's roles like these that make Hugo feel like a bloated silent film.

Hugo is meant to be a tribute to some of cinema's very first films (Lumiere, Melies, etc...), but weak dialogue and poor pacing leave the whole thing feeling like a missed opportunity. Scorcese's heart is clearly in the right place, but Scorcese the film enthusiast seems to have taken over Scorcese the director, to hugely detrimental results. Though the second half picks up a little and introduces some legitimately charming scenes, it never amounts to anything substantial or fully satisfying. This may have been a passion project for Scorcese, but ultimately Hugo stands as proof that one's passion for a subject matter can be blinding.

**Oh, and the 3D? Pointless.

***Yes, it's a pretty movie, but just about everything is in shades or orange and blue. Someone show Scorcese this article (link) ASAP.

Grade: C

Review: "Contagion"

A disease pandemic means zombies. That's what the Hollywood of the past decade or so can't seem to get over. Not that there haven't been some good films to come out of the trend (28 Days Later...), but all in all, the disease-equals-zombies movie has been done enough to last us for a while. A movie strictly about disease, however? That's the sort of thing that hasn't been done in a while, so leave it to chameleonic director Steven Soderbergh (Traffic, Ocean's 11, Che) to give us a more grounded take on a viral menace.

Opening on Day 2 of the epidemic, Contagion follows a mysterious viral outbreak whose first victim is Beth Emhoff (Gwyneth Paltrow). As the virus begins to spread, the film travels across the globe, following everyone from health officials (Laurence Fishburne, Kate Winslet, Jennifer Ehle, Marion Cotillard), to the possibly infected (Matt Damon), and even a conspiracy theorist/blogger (Jude Law). Some try to find the virus' source, others try to contain its expansion, and some simply try to keep their lives from falling apart.

And, as rendered by Soderbergh and his team, the story is one that keeps its feet firmly on the ground. There are scenes of frustration and panic, even rioting, but Scott Z. Burns' script never gives in to hysteria or melodrama. Contagion isn't concerned with scenes of people becoming violently ill, or gross-out moments (save for maybe one). Instead, it keeps its focus on telling a grounded story about an increasingly aggressive disease. Soderbergh and Burns received cooperation from the CDC, and they've obviously taken the organization's advice seriously; the film feels uncomfortably plausible. Acting as his own cinematographer, Soderbergh captures the surfaces where the virus spreads (or makes contact) with a precision that is uncomfortable, and may very well have you rushing to douse your hands in Purell when the movie is over.

As the film progresses, though, it also starts to run out of steam. The first hour or so, when the disease is still an unknown (and still spreading rapidly) is stronger, but even it has its share of flaws. Though Stephen Mirrione deserves credit for his tight (but not hyper active) editing, he's left trying to cover too many bases. The story of the investigation of the disease, as well as Damon's arc, probably would have been enough to sustain the narrative. Unfortunately, there are two story threads that aren't quite up to snuff.

The first is Law's, which tracks a conspiracy blogger who simultaneously believes that the CDC is in bed with pharmaceutical companies, while trying to sell his own homeopathic treatment. Even though Elliot Gould has an amusing line about why blogging isn't real journalism, the film's use of Law's character feels too easy and too broad. The more I think about Law's scenes, the less I like them. With the clinical distance that Soderbergh is keeping from his subjects, this particular character is only more difficult to remain interested in as time goes on. But then there's Marion Cotillard's story line, which isn't so much useless as it is short-changed. With the strand already kept seemingly on the back burner, the film simply abandons Cotillard's character at two rather crucial points. There was probably an interesting angle to be mined from the arc, but little to nothing is made of it.

These two strands are part of Contagion's Achilles Heel. In trying to be an anti-disaster movie, and avoid sensationalism, Soderbergh and Burns have perhaps gone too far in the other direction. While I respect the film's attempts to ground itself in procedure and science, I can't help but feel that too much time is spent on characters spouting information, which robs them of the chance to, well, act. The script's fixation on the science of the story drains too much life from the characters for any of them to be worth connecting with, save maybe for Damon, Fishburne, and Winslet. Considering that the film is already jumping between and among characters, the problem only gets worse as it goes on, rendering the film's emotional angle void. So even though there is much to respect within Contagion, which ends on an interestingly simple (albeit unsettling) note, from its grounded story telling to its fine technical aspects (kudos to Cliff Martinez's sinister, pulsating score), the overt lack of emotion renders a potentially groundbreaking thriller little more than an antiseptic piece of low-key thriller entertainment.

Grade: B-

Trailer: "Contagion"

Virus movies, though certainly nothing new, are usually connected to another genre: zombie films. But what if a movie decided to take a grittier, realistic approach, where the virus itself, and not the threat of mutations or zombies, was the real villain? That would give you Contagion courtesy of Traffic and Ocean's 11 director Steven Soderbergh. Despite the long wait for a trailer, not to mention the recent bump to an earlier release date (Sept. 9), I'm still excited for this film. Soderbergh has made some great films, and his ensemble here is all-around fantastic. But what's really intriguing here is a simple editing choice, one that lets us know that Gwyneth Paltrow's character dies. Honestly, when was the last time a trailer for a big budget studio film killed off one of the biggest names in the cast? It's the sort of decision that sends a very clear, and very unsettling message: no one is safe. That test screening audiences are reportedly calling the film "nausea-inducing" in its graphic (and supposedly realistic) depictions of a deadly virus only makes me more excited to see what Soderbergh and writer Scott Z. Burns have in store for us.

Trailer: "Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows"

I'm a little late on posting the first trailer for Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows, thanks to the time difference. Robert Downey Jr.'s second franchise at the moment has finally given us a first look (the film arrives in December), and it looks like more of the same, in a good way. And even though former casting candidate Daniel Day Lewis is no longer involved (as the film's villain, no less), I'm still excited to see Guy Ritchie's follow-up to his 2009 action-mystery because of two words: Noomi Rapace. The former girl with the dragon tattoo is officially stepping out into Hollywood, and I love that her role, as the gypsy Sim, is going to be a major one. It must be pretty nice being the first person seen and heard in a big budget film with Robert Downey Jr. and Jude Law.

On the other hand, what's disappointing is how little fuss is made over Jared Harris as the film's villain. Dr. Moriarty is the Sherlock Holmes villain, essentially the Joker or Lex Luthor of Arthur Conan Doyle's universe, yet the trailer presents as being just as minor as Mark Strong's Lord Blackwood from the first film. As far as the rest goes, the chemistry between Downey Jr. and Law looks unchanged (I mean that as a compliment), though it worries me that the "get what's in your hand out of my face" joke is back. Too many recurring jokes/set-ups could stymie whatever growth Holmes and Watson's relationship goes through this time around. Then again, the jokes in the first film generally worked, and there's always Hans Zimmer's score (which got a well deserved Oscar nomination last time) to liven things up. Let's just hope that Guy Ritchie and crew don't give us too much of the same, though; we don't need another Hangover: Part II sequel this year.