Review: "The Revenant"

Director: Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu
Runtime: 156 minutes

So much for levity. Alejandro Gonzalez Inarritu, fresh off an Oscar win for Best Director is back, and unlike Birdman, his new project is very, very serious. And yet, after the emotional and technical highwire act of Birdman, something seems to have shaken loose in the director's approach to darker material. The Revenant, despite its share of heavy going and brutal events, may mark a return to expected territory for Inarritu, but it does so in a way that suggests the director's approach to straight drama may finally be evolving. By turns plodding and powerful, this bleak anti-Western has enough going for it that it manages to overcome several gaping weaknesses.

Those weaknesses take some time to become apparent, as Inarritu and co-writer Mark L. Smith waste no time in plunging the viewer into an intense, visceral story. After a quick, Malick-esque opener, The Revenant kicks off with a stunning battle made all the more immersive by Emmanuel Lubezki's roving, deep-focus photography (it plays out like a Herzog movie on steroids). As in Birdman (albeit to a lesser degree), The Revenant is mostly comprised of lengthy, unbroken shots. And, perhaps to better effect here than in Inarritu's showbiz black comedy, the camera work feels more purposeful in terms of drawing one in to a different place and time. 

Set in the first half of the 1800s, The Revenant's eventual plot concerns Hugh Glass (Leonardo DiCaprio, playing a fictionalized version of a real frontiersman), a fur trapper with some of the worst luck imaginable. The opening confrontation with a Pawnee tribe sends Glass' expedition scrambling for a new route home, and it doesn't get much better from there. Though most in the crew (including characters played by Domhnall Gleeson and Will Poulter) respect Glass' knowledge of the local terrain, there is understandable division in how to proceed. Leading the opposition is John Fitzgerald (Tom Hardy), driven purely by a desire to get to a trading post ASAP and collect their earnings. Everything goes (further) south when Glass has an absolutely horrific encounter with a grizzly bear, which is - like most of the setpieces in the film - presented in an unflinching shot that represents a visual endurance test. Soon Glass, with no help from Fitzgerald, is left for dead, which of course he isn't. 

It takes close to an hour for this first leg of the journey to transpire, though the constant sense of movement prevents the film from drowning in its own dour atmosphere. Inarritu's previous dramas have often been met with criticism for either being overbearingly heavy or obnoxiously contrived. With The Revenant, based in part on true events, at least now the director has found a story where his tendency towards self-important dramatics actually fits the material. 

So much of The Revenant works so well that it's not until near the finale that one of the biggest issues with the script rears its head: DiCaprio's Glass is not a terribly well-formed character. While the film's other roles allow for (admittedly straightforward) characterization, Glass himself remains a bit vacant. The decision to shoot just about the entire film on location pays off in spades from a filmmaking standpoint, but this has somehow happened at the expense of the writing. Aside from grunting in pain, DiCaprio spends most of the movie doing stunts, rather than building a character. Physicality can a be powerful component of a performance, but when the entire role is built around strenuous activity, it's hard to feel even a passing intellectual connection or sense of empathy. DiCaprio does at least get one strong moment before the final showdown, but with so much time spent just watching him survive, it feels a bit thin in retrospect. 

With Glass' characterization left out in the wilderness, the emotional core of the film resembles the frozen-over quality of the visuals. The other actors, at least, get to do something other than function as human rag dolls. Gleeson does some fine work as a co-leader of the expedition convinced that Glass is dead, while Will Poulter is excellent in his limited scenes as a crew member concealing the ugly truth. The film's emotional high points arise not from Glass' arc, but from interactions between other characters about Glass' fate. Hardy, trading in the scorched earth of Mad Max for the snow-covered American frontier, is a solid villain as well, even though much of his dialogue is difficult to decipher. 

What The Revenant lacks in in-depth character development, it oddly makes up for with broad-strokes symbolism. Inarritu's hand can be a bit too heavy to create something truly transcedant, but he manages to extract some striking moments of poetry out of all of the chaos. Dreams and flashbacks play a key role in giving the film a broader historical context, and are often more informative than what takes place in the present. Glimpses of Glass' Native American wife, as well as the rampant decimation of Native tribes at the hands of white colonizers, do a compelling job of subverting the traditional cowboys-and-indians notion of classic Westerns. 

Bridging the gap between dream and reality is a subplot centered on a group of Pawnee warriors going after a missing woman from their tribe. This narrative thread, a head-scratcher at first, ends up working in the film's favor as an inverted parallel of the central plot. Glass seeks revenge for being left for dead (as well as the murder of his mixed-race son) to try, now that he has nothing left to live for despite living in land taken by force by his fellow white explorers. The Pawnee tribe, meanwhile, is out to reclaim one of their own, taken by the same white explorers, so that they can do their best to stay united as their numbers dwindle as a result of the bloody path cut by "Manifest Destiny." Whether or not Glass gets revenge, he has the option of continuing to build a life for himself. The Pawnee, however, are faced with literal extinction. The film's final scene merges these two angles together for a disquieting end. It positions the The Revenant not as a heroic tribute to human endurance, but rather a bitter and mournful condemnation of the whitewashed, not to mention hideous, violence that formed modern America, and continues to poison its collective moral conscience to this day.

Is this slow-building symbolism enough to justify the lack of development for DiCaprio's role? Well...kind of. Actual investment in Glass as an individual would have only heightened the film's eventual message. Juxtaposing one man's suffering against the destruction of entire races is a smart idea, but it requires more than a noteworthy face to make such a conceit hit home beyond intellectual understanding. The Revenant does so much right, however, that the thinly sketched ideology is elevated above being merely serviceable. It's a oddball case of style emphasizing and fleshing out substance in ways the source can't quite grasp. It's in the periphery, not the central journey, where the The Revenant starts to thaw out and push beyond its immaculate surface. 

Grade: B+

Review: "The Wolf of Wall Street"

Director: Martin Scorsese
Runtime: 180 minutes

Though billed as a raucous dark comedy, it would be more accurate to describe The Wolf of Wall Street as a big, loud, three hour parade of horrors. This chronicle of real-life stock broker Jordan Belfort's rise and fall is a slice of excess that is, itself, excessive in execution. Despite stunningly committed work from Leonardo DiCaprio, and some very entertaining debauchery, The Wolf of Wall Street still feels too big for its own good, and this is after a hour of material has already hit the cutting room floor. 

Set amid the coke-fueled heyday of the late 80s and early 90s, Belfort's story begins when, at 22, he walked off of the bus at Wall Street hoping to make a name for himself. And, of course, he did, albeit in all of the wrong ways. As was the case with American Hustle, Wolf isn't terribly concerned about giving the actual plot developments the spotlight. Instead, it's content to allow the plot to momentarily pop up from its gopher hole, while it spends most of its time reveling in the big and insanely loud lives of the characters. 

And even though Scorsese is much better at balancing free-wheeling character scenes and overall plot than David O. Russell, the scales are still tipped way too far in favor of the insanity. Yet to call Wolf a 'party movie' doesn't really sit right. There are drug-fueled blowouts and orgies a plenty, but their purpose is to repulse rather than to seduce. Belfort and his stock broker friends and associates lived large in the emptiest, most debased way imaginable. At the end of La Dolce Vita, Marcello Mastroianni laments the hollowness of his party-driven lifestyle, but he'd go sprinting back to any of those celebrations if he caught a glimpse of Belfort's exploits. 

Despite the film's considerable excesses, it's almost worth all three hours just to witness the gob-smacking amount of effort DiCaprio gives the role in every frame. Some of his previous collaborations with Scorsese have been held back by stiffness or self-consciousness. Here, however, the actor has truly gotten lost in the part. It's mostly sound and fury theatrics, but DiCaprio's every move is perfectly in sync with Scorsese's tone and vision: in your face, exhilarating, repulsive, and ultimately exhausting. Though it won't go down as his most nuanced performance, there's something impressive with how well DiCaprio simply lets go. A long, but worthwhile, scene involving quaaludes and co-worker Donny Azoff (Jonah Hill) includes some of the most impressive physical acting to hit the screen in the past decade. 

So, despite the expansive supporting cast (including Hill, Margot Robbie, Matthew McConaughey, Joanna Lumley, Kyle Chandler, and Jean Dujardin), the entire three hours truly rests on DiCaprio's shoulders. He certainly carries the whole thing pretty damn effortlessly, which is why it's a shame that Scorsese couldn't have simply given him less to carry. With essentially no change in Belfort's character over the course of the runtime, the nonstop hijinks become exhausting in all of the wrong ways. Scorsese's film is always watchable, but some additional reigning in would have been appreciated. There's simply not enough room for the plot to breathe properly. Had the chaos built to a clearer point, this complaint wouldn't be such a big deal. But the point of the whole thing is something that one can ascertain after the first hour or so. Everything else, however compelling, is merely indulgent to a fault. 

Grade: B-

Review: "The Great Gatsby"

Director: Baz Luhrmann
Runtime: 142 minutes

I was lucky to see an unfinished cut of Baz Luhrmann's The Great Gatsby way back in November of last year. The screening, which had unfinished VFX and temporary soundtrack selections, occurred only a month or so after the film was pushed from its original Christmas 2012 opening. Despite fearing for the worst, I ended up enjoying the relatively incomplete cut, and looked forward to the final version. Nearly half a year later, and I'm able to breathe a sigh of relief. My opinion of Luhrmann's film is basically unchanged, for better and for worse. Just as it was in November, this new Gatsby is littered with various and sundry flaws, yet builds to a mostly strong finish thanks to Luhrmann's surprising ability to tone himself down.

As far as the story is concerned, not much has been changed by Luhrmann or co-writer Craig Pearce. The only notable addition is that Nick Carraway (Tobey Maguire), the story's wallflower narrator, is writing the story from the confines of a sanitarium. Other than that, it's the same story most of us read in high school with varying degrees of interest and/or boredom. Nick moves to West Egg next to the mysterious Gatsby (Leonardo DiCaprio), and must deal with Gatsby's attempts to win back his former flame Daisy (Carey Mulligan). Framing device aside, this take on Fitzgerald's novel has little in plotting that will enrage fanatical literary purists. The outrage is more likely to stem from Luhrmann's glitzy treatment of the Jazz Age, though even that anger feels slightly misdirected.

Those familiar with Luhrmann's films (or at least Moulin Rouge!) know that the director isn't one for subtlety or low energy. As such, it shouldn't come as a surprise that the film is frenetically edited, and that the visual design is opulent to the nth degree (credit should go to production/costume designer Catherine Martin, who has outdone herself). Fitzgerald explicitly condemned the empty decadence of the Roaring Twenties. Luhrmann dresses it up with stunning costumes and an eclectic soundtrack that blends contemporary pop and hip-hop with music from the novel's era.

It would be easy to dismiss this approach as completely missing the point, but I can only partially agree. Yes, Luhrmann doesn't harshly condemn the wild excess of the elites of the day. Yet by applying a grandiose music-video style to the parties, Gatsby's parties feel relevant for a modern audience. A more accurate depiction of a party from the era would be nothing short of off-putting strictly from a viewing experience. Luhrmann wants his audience to have their cake and eat it too, and he partially gets away with it. Above all else, he succeeds in capturing the time period infinitely better than the more "accurate" vision seen in the soul-crushingly dull 1974 adaptation with Robert Redford and Mia Farrow.

Even with the social satire pushed to the background, many of the themes of Fitzgerald's novel still come through, even as Luhrmann puts Gatsby and Daisy's romance front and center. Mulligan's Daisy is almost more complex on screen, as she shifts from exaggerated air-head to doomed romantic and back again. Mulligan occasionally gets stuck with some stiff dialogue, yet she largely overcomes this and creates a nuanced portrait of vapid indecisiveness. Joel Edgerton (as Daisy's brutish husband Tom) lands some similarly stiff dialogue, yet builds his character into an engaging, albeit one-note, antagonist. Side characters have little to do, yet have their fleeting moments to shine. Isla Fisher is giving it her all as the flamboyant Myrtle, though she barely has anything to do other than pout and party. More successful is Aussie newcomer Elizabeth Debicki as the mysterious (and very lanky) golfing star Jordan Baker, who plays a key role in the early part of the story. Debicki's character has been slightly downsized (mainly in the story's second half), but the actress remains fully present even when all she has to do is cautiously shift her glance amid the melodrama.

But no Gatsby adaptation can be a real success if the titular role is pulled off. And, even with his somewhat dodgy accent, DiCaprio rightfully walks away with the film. The pull between who Gatsby is and who he wants to be is palpable, but never hammered home. For all of Luhrmann's visual excess, he has managed to give his performers moments to poke through the pumped-up visual artifice. The lone exception is Tobey Maguire. In fairness, the role of Nick Carraway is hardly a juicy role to begin with. However, Maguire is ill-served as the too-mild-for-his-own-good Nick. Having the character narrate portions of the film with direct passages from the novel doesn't help matters, and often breaks up the flow of the emotional developments.

For all that Luhrmann gets right (work with his cast, entertaining visuals and sounds, some solid understated humor), his writing work often leaves something to be desired. While The Great Gatsby feels more coherent than Australia (which, though enjoyable, was trying to be three or four different movies), it sometimes moves with fits and starts. As much as the visual ticks (text on the screen, dissolves, layered images, etc...) liven the material, they sometimes rob moments of what little impact they were aiming for. 

Thankfully, Luhrmann calms down once Gatsby and Daisy reconnect, and the second half boasts some scenes that are genuinely compelling, even in their melodramatic execution. As easy as it would be for me to dismiss the film as shallow fun, I was surprised that, even on a second viewing, I still found myself connecting with Gatsby's journey. It's not exactly a Greek tragedy (even Luhrmann wouldn't stretch Fitzgerald's prose that much), but even when the film built to its conclusion, I found myself stirred by the presentation, even if it was only an inch below skin-deep in terms of actual depth. For all of the missteps (big and small) along the way, Luhrmann's film is quite easily the best adaptation of Fitzgerald's novel. By playing to the narrative (the rekindled romance aspect), rather than the more general social critique, Luhrmann does what a director should be free to do with adaptations: make the material his own. Luhrmann doesn't need to make an adaptation that can act as a perfect narrative and thematic substitute for the book. That's what the actual book is for in the first place. 

Grade: B-

Review: "Django Unchained"

Director: Quentin Tarantino
Runtime: 165 minutes

Moving from one historical horror to another (the Holocaust to American slavery), Quentin Tarantino's Django Unchained has all of the ingredients to be another riotous and incendiary work of film making. Yet what's most curious about Tarantino's latest offering is that, despite so many strong ingredients, the film feels in need of serious reigning in, more so than any of the director's previous work. Perhaps the greatest irony here is that even though Django contains some of Tarantino's most direct dialogue, the film as a whole still comes off as protracted and indulgent. When the various pieces of the film click, Tarantino achieves some furiously entertaining and compelling results. Unfortunately, there's far too much limp plotting in the early stretches that undermine much of the proceedings.

Opening with, as one would expect, credits perfectly recreated from a classic Spaghetti Western, Django gets its plot moving quite soon. German bounty hunter Dr. King Schultz (Christoph Waltz) rescues the slave Django (Jamie Foxx), so that Django can help him identify the wanted Brittle Brothers. Eventually the two extend the agreement. If Django helps Schultz, he'll help Django rescue his wife Broomhilda (Kerry Washington) from sadistic plantation owner Calvin Candie (Leonardo DiCaprio).

And, like Tarantino's previous film, 2009's Inglorious Basterds, Django begins by introducing us to Christoph Waltz's character. And yet, from the get go, something feels off. Whereas Basterds began with slowly building tension, teased out by engaging dialogue, Django quickly succumbs to a strange sense of prolonged tedium. So much of the film's moments, even the bursts of violence, are telegraphed so early that tension is defused before it even accumulates. Tarantino has a knack for drawing out conversations in an entertaining fashion, yet here the technique feels tiresome. In an unexpected departure, much of the dialogue (especially in the early portions) is quite straightforward, getting to the point instead of dancing around said point. The great irony of this is that Tarantino's more direct approach to certain scenes feels more tiresome than his diversions.

Even the cast are somewhat let down by Tarantino's less embellished writing. Waltz, who remains a perfect fit for the writer/director's style, seems to get bored as he cuts through his lesser dialogue in order to get to the meat of the part. The same can almost be said for DiCaprio when he first appears. However, once the film settles in at Candie's plantation, DiCaprio truly comes to life, and thoroughly dominates a prolonged dinner sequence that culminates in a soon-to-be iconic speech about a skull. DiCaprio can sometimes falter when he tries to go 'big' with his performances, but here the actor is aces. His slow rise from steady boil to full blown explosion is among the film's acting highlights. It's over the top, to be certain, but the best performances in Tarantino's films rarely veer towards intimate subtlety. The film also receives an unexpected burst of energy from Samuel L. Jackson as a curmudgeonly slave on Candie's plantation. Jackson is both compelling and riotously entertaining in the role, and it stands as the actor's best work on screen in years. 

Unfortunately, even though Django is set amid the horrors of the slave trade, two of the most important black characters are among the least interesting. Kerry Washington is given little more to do than look worried and scream. More disappointing is Jamie Foxx. Despite being the titular character, one charged with a desire for bloody revenge, Django winds up feeling more like a cipher. Despite the occasional good one-liner, the character spends most of his time observing Dr. Schultz, who's more of a driving force even though the story isn't his. Foxx brings little to the role other than some sass, though there's not quite enough in the character for him to work with in the first place. 

And even when Tarantino hits the sweet spot, he sometimes ventures into overkill. A massive shootout, filled with orgiastic levels of spurting and spraying blood, nearly becomes out of control in its overwrought execution, even by Tarantino's standards. Worse are the more grounded moments, meant to highlight the abhorrent treatment of slaves. The film gets the point across - such as when two slaves are shown fighting to the death for mere entertainment - but the violence is so relentless that it threatens to become exploitative, rather than appropriately horrifying.

Yet perhaps the biggest stumbling block is the film's near-shapeless plotting. After building to what feels like a riveting, albeit vague, climax, the film trudges on for another 25 minutes to a solution we can already see coming. It's hard to know how much of this has to do with the fact that longtime Tarantino editor Sally Menke sadly passed away before the film even began shooting, or if even she could have reined the film in. Regardless, Django is easily one of Tarantino's least consistent offerings, with his indulgences getting the better of him at an alarming rate. Say what you want about his films, but they've never failed to intrigue or entertain me at every turn until now. Yet here there was a palpable lapse in energy from the get go, one that at times allowed me to wander off into tiny day dreams without the slightest concern that I was missing anything. Django may be off of the chain, and rightfully so, but Tarantino needs to be put on a much shorter leash.

Grade: B-

How about them shiny new trailers?

For a while (as in, before my Prometheus review) now, I've meant to do quick write-ups of a slew of new trailers for some BIG films for 2012. Obviously, I haven't so now it's catch up time. Most of these have been out for two weeks or more, but they're all interesting films, and I'm not going to miss a chance to needlessly scrutinize promotional material (I also need to get around to doing a Month in Review for May and April...or just combine it with June...ehhhhhhh). 


007: Skyfall dir. Sam Mendes

Set for release in November, James Bond finally returns, and it looks like the wait (prolonged by MGM's bankruptcy) will be worth it. What vague plot details exist are intriguing (something about M's past coming back and attacking MI6), and the presence of Mendes in the director's chair is certainly interesting. This looks like a continuation of the grittier tone that has taken over the franchise since Casino Royale, albeit with a bit more polish (thanks, Roger Deakins!!). Granted, it's a rather limited teaser, but this promises to be a return to form for Bond after the decent, but at times dull previous outing, 2008's Quantum of Solace. The structure is nice too, starting off with the world's most solemn word association game before unleashing a quick mash-up of high octane action at the end.


Grade: B


The Great Gatsby dir. Baz Luhrmann

Gatsby isn't the sort of novel that necessarily screams cinematic, but Baz Luhrmann's brand of crazy might just be the key to pulling it off. That, or this big budget, 3D adaptation will be a special sort of disaster. Either way, it at least looks like there's a great deal of energy on screen, and I look forward to Luhrmann bringing his Moulin Rouge instincts to the big, brash (but ultimately, empty) parties that defined the Roaring Twenties...at least for the rich guys. DiCaprio, Mulligan, and Joel Edgerton seem well-cast, and of course it looks gorgeous (Catherine Martin really is a gift to costume and set design), and even the 3D looks like it might be implemented to decent effect. The one question mark (aside from the iffy music choice in the second half) is Tobey Maguire as Nick Carraway. Yes, the role is supposed to be a little on the blank side, but Maguire seems like he might turn out to be too blank. Still, even Maguire can't make this any worse than that Robert Redford adaptation from the 70s...right?


Grade: B-


Les Miserables dir. Tom Hooper

Even though I had a feeling that Tom Hooper's adaptation of the popular musical Les Miserables would be on the gritty side, I have to admit I was slightly caught off guard the first time I watched this. And while I'm still not sold on a handful of shots - some look a little too much like the film is desperately trying to be gritty/cinema verite - overall I'm sold on this. Hooper isn't a director known for being a stylistically or thematically daring auteur, but his sensibilities should lend themselves well to the material. The cast all seem to fit right in, though of course the trailer basically belongs to Anne Hathaway's rendition of "I Dreamed a Dream." Her singing has a rough quality to it that, while not immediately pleasurable in the way a standard Broadway belter's voice might be, works. The cast could all be belting out flawless, bold performances of the songs, but that would be for naught if the acting didn't come through. So even though the film, which had its cast sing live on camera, won't have the most polished feel, if it all works (or mostly works) then the songs will work as vehicles for the performers to act through. When you have the capabilities of the big screen (AKA: close-ups), belting to make sure everyone can hear you is no longer a necessity. It's the emotion that's more important, and that seems to be what Hooper is focusing on, which is good, because the man is good with actors. It may keep the film's soundtrack from being in endless rotation on someone's iPod, but it will likely serve the film as a whole better. Also: Anne Hathaway and Hugh Jackman singing on screen together? Yes, please (remember their Oscar duet?).


Grade: B+


The Bourne Legacy dir. Tony Gilroy

Paul Greengrass may no longer be directing, but the presence of series scribe Tony Gilroy leaves little reason to fret. The style seems consistent with the previous Bourne films, and the trailer does a smart job of introducing the new protagonist (Jeremy Renner's Aaron Cross), while also showing how his story fits into the world and timeline of the initial trilogy. Renner is more than up to the task of being a leading man in a (hopefully) smart action-thriller, so it's good to see him finally get the chance, especially after being wasted in The Avengers. Add in the return of Joan Allen and David Strathairn, along with new roles filled out by Edward Norton and Rachel Weisz, and you have what looks like a good film to liven up the summer season as it enters its usually dire final month (August).


Grade: B+


The Master dir. Paul Thomas Anderson

The Master marks Anderson's first film since 2007's There Will be Blood, and if this first, Phoenix-centric teaser is any indication, the wait is going to be worth. The simple music, coupled with lots of suggestion create a sense of subtle tension even though we have no idea what exactly is going on. And even though the teaser runs less than two minutes, I can't deny that Joaquin Phoenix looks pretty damn mesmerizing here. The way he holds his face, and the bemused detachment in his voice suggest a figure who is dangerously close to breaking, yet you don't know exactly what said break would lead to. Add in cast mates like Philip Seymour Hoffman and Amy Adams, and those rumors that the script's story has parallels to the founding of Scientology, and you have a runaway candidate for the year's best piece of marketing (sorry, Prometheus).


Grade: A


Django Unchained dir. Quentin Tarantino

Though it's still shooting, losing and gaining cast members left and right, Tarantino's Django Unchained managed to put out a trailer. The director's films have always had touches of spaghetti western films in their DNA, even as they tackled wildly different genres, so it's interesting to see Tarantino finally tackle the root of his style. The cast seems like they're having a ball (nice to see DiCaprio loosen up a little on screen), and some of the shots are great (the blood spraying on the cotton is fantastic). However, it seems to run a little long without building to much. Of course, it's just a preview, but it seems to lack the precision of the others listed here (yes, even Gatsby). Tarantino's always worth checking out, though, and I'm excited to see what he does with the material, particularly the issues regarding slavery and racism. It will also be interesting to see how Tarantino fares without longtime editor Sally Menke, who sadly passed away in late 2010. Menke had a way of matching Tarantino's rhythms that probably helped define them, which means there's quite a bit of pressure on Django's editor, the sort of pressure that could make or break the film.


Grade: B

Review: "J. Edgar"

Whatever your opinion on J. Edgar Hoover is - unwavering patriot, paranoid witch-hunter, a bit of both... - the man is undeniably one of the most fascinating figures in American history. With such rich material to mine from, one would think that a film maker like Clint Eastwood and screenwriter Dustin Lance Black (who won an Oscar for his look at Harvey Milk in Milk) would be able to create a film as fascinating as its subject. Unfortunately, that's not quite the case. Eastwood's directorial career, recently in a bit of a funk, doesn't get the reinvigoration it so desperately needs from J. Edgar. It's not a horrible film, just a terribly simple and unremarkable one.

Of any film this fall, J. Edgar certainly screams "Oscar bait" the loudest. Biopic of famous American figure? Check. Period piece? Check. Simplistic framing device? Check. Old age makeup, some of it absolutely awful (poor Armie Hammer)? Check. Judi Dench? Check. All of these are part of the film. The problem is that Eastwood seems to simply stop there. He's made (and Black has written) an Oscar contender that feels lazy. The film may cover nearly seven decades, but even with all of that time, it never amounts to much more than a safe and shallow examination of its central subject. Black and Eastwood never take any sort of stance on Hoover as a man. True, they've avoided making a lopsided cartoon of Hoover, but they've also failed to have any sort of opinion on him at all.

It's a shame, because poor Leonardo DiCaprio really is trying his hardest here, even having to fighting against some odd old age makeup that gives him awkward-looking jowls. It's a committed performance, and DiCaprio totally sells it. Unfortunately, there isn't enough for him to sell, even with the script's hints at Hoover's closeted sexuality and mommy issues. No one else fares well either, if only because the film isn't as interested in any of the characters as it is in Hoover. Armie Hammer tries his best as Clyde Tolson, Hoover's right-hand man and rumored lover, though the character is ultimately little more than an oversimplified foil to Hoover. Judi Dench pops in for a few scenes as Hoover's mother and brings her usual credibility without doing much more save for one scene that links Hoover's mommy issues with his sexuality. The most unfortunate, though, is Naomi Watts as Hoover's lifelong secretary Helen Gandy. To be brief, it's almost criminal how basic the character is considering the remarkable actress playing her on screen.

And it's this precise lack of anything remarkable that leaves J. Edgar feeling so middling. Though certain memories, such as those surrounding the Lindbergh baby kidnapping, are interesting, there's never enough of a look into Hoover's thought process to explain his increasingly paranoid tendencies. As such, the film has some strong scenes, but never rises to become a fully compelling examination. The closest it comes is in a moment after Hoover's mother dies, but given how safe the film is in dealing with that angle, it amounts to little in the long run. Considering all of the ways Hoover was involved in Washington's inner-workings, it's amazing how tame some of the "surprises" of the story feel.

The film is also brought down by the ho-hum look of everything, by which I mean the fact that every frame seems to be filled with nothing but shades of grey and green. I'm not sure why Eastwood has recently become fond of this washed-out look, but he needs to get over it, and soon. I can at least say that for once Eastwood's score contributions (extremely limited this time around) are either effective or aren't noticeable. I'd comment about the production design and costumes, but with everything so drained of color it's hard to evaluate (or care about). Then again, maybe the lighting and coloring of the film actually works, because it embodies the film as a whole: so safe that it feels drained of any life or vivacity that would have made it as fascinating as Hoover himself.

Grade: C

"Inception" - REVIEW

It's almost hard to discuss Inception, along with the positive and negative responses to it, without looking at the traits and changes of its director, Christopher Nolan. His personal project, which would probably never have made it to the screen were it not for the success of his first two Batman reboots, is something of an intriguing oddity. Like James Cameron's Avatar, Nolan had an early draft of the script in his drawer for years, but only recently found that he had the capabilities to make it. In some sense, Inception is something like Mr. Nolan's attempt at delving into the head-spinning story-telling and structure of his indie breakout Memento, with the big-budget trappings and gloss of The Dark Knight. With expectations sky high after that second Batman film, and with enough time having passed for its detractors to step into the sunlight without fear of being ripped to shreds, Inception arrives more open to negative (or at least non-ecstatic) reception, and in some ways, this is a good thing. For while Nolan has made a movie that engages viscerally and intellectually, it can't always engage the heart as fully as it should. Not that it isn't strong film making - keep reading and you'll see that I liked or loved lots of it - but it feels like a cautionary film, one that suggests that perhaps Mr. Nolan should (after Batman 3, which I'm still super excited for) return to the smaller, more organic roots of the film that made him a name.

Inception is that sort of film that needs to be talked about as vaguely as possible in regards to plot. What I'll say isn't much different from what you can glean from the trailers: Cobb (DiCaprio), part of a team who can hack into dreams to steal or plant ideas, needs to get one last, daunting job done in order to "get home," (what that means, you'll have to discover). The rest of his team includes Arthur (Joseph Gordon-Levitt), Eames (Tom Hardy), and Ariadne (Ellen Page). Also along for the ride are Ken Watanabe as Cobb's client, Marion Cotillard as Cobb's wife, and Cillian Murphy as the group's target. Yet for such a wonderful ensemble (Mr. Hardy being the most fun), this is not an actor's film by any means. The ensemble isn't one-note, but most of them are far from being fully fleshed-out. Yet even so, with the exception of Ken Watanabe being somewhat difficult to understand, I have no complaints about anyone.

Like any Nolan movie, the women are bound to come up as a subject of debate (as one critic wrote, they tend to be "effective window-dressing" in his films), but as for me, I found both ladies were used to lovely effect. Cotillard is predictably beautiful, but also intriguing though hers is the hardest performance to discuss considering its spoiler-ish nature. For now, let's just say that it's leagues ahead of her work in her last mainstream summer outing, Public Enemies, in that she's interesting and engaging during the whole movie, and not just in the last 20 minutes. Page however, I can talk more freely about, and gladly so. She certainly creates a sharp divide among movie-goers, but after this film, I'll plant myself firmly in the "like" camp. Ariadne is, as predicted, used as the audience insert (ie: the one who can ask "why?" so that the others can explain the dream world to the audience in some manner other than a Star Wars-esque prologue scroll). But thankfully Nolan gives Page more to do than ask "why?" (or at least doesn't keep those questions strictly to the job at hand), and her one-on-one scenes with DiCaprio are some of the best character-oriented ones. Page is likable, smart, and believable as a depiction of how a "normal" person would react after being thrust into such a daunting world.

The men are an interesting story as well. DiCaprio, headlining his second head-twister this year after Shutter Island, makes an effective leading man, but I can't help but wish that Nolan had gone with someone who could more easily call for sympathy and give off shades (heh) of warmth, considering Nolan's slightly distant way of handling his characters in his writing. Still, he does the role well, and he certainly fares better than Joseph Gordon-Levitt, who aside from getting the film's show-stopping hallway-fight-turned-zero-G sequence, doesn't bring quite enough spark to his role, though his chemistry and bickering with Hardy suggests a relationship that I'd like to have a deeper look at. Mr. Hardy, however, exudes more charisma as the shapeshifting forger, delivering some nice little quips with ease and bringing in some of the needed humor. But for me, the real MVP of the men, and maaaaybe the movie, is Cillian Murphy, who has a much larger role than anticipated. Let's just say that the payoff of his story arc is the closest to a fully-realized emotional payoff that Inception has, perhaps more so than Cobb's own interests. Perhaps the problem can be traced back to something I noticed in The Dark Knight. With Nolan's (alleged) coldness in his films, emotional payoff is generated more out of a visceral response to pure intensity, than to a deep attachment to the characters. But what made those visceral moments practically enough of a substitute for heartfelt emotion was probably built on the fact that there were fewer (front and center) characters to keep track of. With Inception, we're dealing with a crew five shy of an Ocean's 11 sized set of protagonists, and the emotion elicited (and thereby the intensity of the film) is hampered as a result, which makes me glad that Nolan stopped expanding his ensemble where he did.

But now that we've taken a look at the actors of what is not an actor's film, it's time to look at, well, everything else. In The Dark Knight, people accused Nolan of overwriting scenes with expository dialogue. For whatever the reason, this is one of those complaints that I can respect and understand, yet despite repeated viewings of that film, it never really makes an impact, and remains a non-issue. For most of Inception this is also likely the case, BUT I'm curious to see how the portion of the film that deals most with explaining the rules holds up on a second viewing. Will it become slightly tedious hearing it all again, or will it hold up because of one of the true stars of the film (that being Lee Smith's editing)? It's hard to say, though Nolan and crew do keep the pace nice and sustained, especially considering the run time and increasing layering of the dreams unfolding on screen. A pair of other standouts dominate the film. First is Wally Pfister's cool, rich cinematography (which is a knockout on an IMAX screen). And even though some of the film's shootouts and chases feel slightly routine in their setups and choreography (Nolan should probably focus more on "adventure" than "action," even though that vehicular chase/battle from TDK is still incredible), they're bolstered by the occasional gorgeous use of slow-motion, and the last part of the arts/tech triumvirate, Hans Zimmer's score, a mix of the intricate and the blaring. If at time a bit too loud as it pours out of the speakers, it's still engaging as all get out, and matches the beats of the movie perfectly. Like I am Love, the blaring score is part of what helps the film shake you and make an impact, although in Nolan's film, that feeling of being shaken also comes with an actual sense of satisfaction when the credits start. Fourth place goes to the special effects, the most prominent in any Nolan film. I've saved them for last because it almost feels needless to talk about them. In a word, they're seamless, and never was I thinking that I was looking at pixels. That said, as far as how Nolan uses the effects, I sometimes wish he had gone a little more mad with his vision. Dreams aren't usually as orderly as Nolan presents them, and the dreams could have used more moments (albeit small ones) where the characters improvise creations, such as when Ariadne makes a bridge rise up in front of her as she navigates through her first dream.

So while Inception doesn't quite inspire the rapturous response the expectation and pre-hype had created like it did for The Dark Knight, this is still thoroughly engaging slam-bang entertainment, even if it is a bit cold to the touch. Nolan's direction is strong, even if some of his writing needs work to serve an ensemble who prove themselves more than up to the task of filling up their roles further were they given the material. It's also a technical marvel as previously mentioned, and can perhaps best be compared to its visual effects: engaging, intense, detailed, slick, a bit too distant, yet somehow wholly believable (ie: the anti-A-Team) because of the effort put in. Even with its flaws, Nolan's blockbuster, likely to remain the best of mainstream cinema of the summer along with Toy Story 3, does manage to accomplish what its tag line promised: The dream is real.

Grade: B+

New "Inception" character featurette

It's amazing that considering the amount of footage available for viewing, that Inception has managed to keep its main plot shrouded in mystery. Obviously we have some vague idea that DiCaprio and crew are after "one last job" and that they can enter dreams, but there's nothing remotely spoiler-worthy about that. Rumors are that many of the cast members, if not all of them, didn't fully understand what the film was about during much of the shooting process; hopefully that means the film is simply a mind-bender and not an overly confusing mess. Long-time Nolan cinematographer Wally Pfister's work here looks impeccable, bolstered by Nolan's insistence on shooting on-location and the vivid VFX work. My only real question actually worth asking is: why leave out Ken Watanabe? We know he's something of a villain, and we've clearly seen him in previous footage, so why leave him and his character title out?