Review: "Silence"

Director: Martin Scorsese
Runtime: 161 minutes

Martin Scorsese has been grappling with his Catholic faith for his entire career, even when it seemed the least obvious. The intensity of his religious convictions, as well as the intensity of his questions and severe doubts, have manifested in ways both literal (The Last Temptation of the Christ) and abstract (Taxi Driver). Catholicism (or, in a sense, any faith) is the third pillar at the foundation of his filmmaking, seated right alongside masculinity and violence (and all of the intersections among the lot). 

Though Scorsese remains an impeccable craftsman, often invigorating his material with dynamism of someone decades younger, he has recently started to run on fumes when dealing with story's beyond their basic text. The Wolf of Wall Street tackles excess, but to the point of becoming excessive itself. Even Best Picture winner The Departed, though powerfully acted and edited, comes up short when one looks for something to chew on beyond the bloody bodycount. 

The apparent exhaustion of two of Scorsese's thematic pillars (well, for now) has left a clearing for capital F Faith to grab the spotlight all for itself. After an on-and-off journey of roughly 30 years, Scorsese has taken Shusaku Endo's novel "Silence" and brought it to life on the big screen. Here, the man who almost became a priest turns his camera to meet not just his maker, but the ideals and practices of those serving in his name. And, while not without its faults (largely at the outset), Silence ultimately proves itself to be a worthy landmark moment of the latter stages of Scorsese's career. Regardless of your religious persuasion (or lack thereof), there is a tremendous amount of value in the issues raised in this exhaustive and exhausting work of Catholic cinema. Though not the director's most polished or lush work, it more than compensates with its staggering devotion to crafting a drama filled with ideas about the earthly and the transcendent. 

Yet much like the film's journey to the big screen, Silence is not without its hiccups. The earliest passages, concerning Jesuit priests Rodrigues (Andrew Garfield) and Garrpe (Adam Driver) seeking out a former mentor in 17th century Japan, come off as stilted. Despite some striking, simple visuals, Silence begins by playing things in a strangely safe manner. At times, it even seems shockingly amateurish. Even longtime Scorsese editor (and basically co-director) Thelma Schoonmaker isn't immune, and turns in some of her weakest work to date. Simple conversations change angles with a frequency at odds with such contemplative subject matter. And Mr. Driver, though an intriguing casting choice, can't quite master what is supposed to be a Portuguese accent (the Portuguese characters speak in English). Early on, a few lines escape his throat like a squawk from a goose raised in the Bronx. Garfield generally fares better, though even he is not without his stilted moments. It's not an auspicious beginning, especially for a film that is so clearly a labor of passion. 

But the further the two Jesuits step into the so-called "swamp of Japan," the more Silence finds its footing. The beauty of Endo's novel, which Scorsese has wisely left intact, is its refusal to sugarcoat or simplify the conflicts at hand. And what conflicts they are. On the surface, Silence's tale involves priests administering aid to Japanese Christians living under persecution. In less enlightened times, such a socio-political conflict would have likely been sanded down to lift the Jesuits up as Christ-like figures. Scorsese includes such a moment, though it's hardly presented as sincere. Alone and starving, Fr. Rodrigues finds himself confronted with his reflection. After a moment, the face transforms into a familiar sight: a Goya painting of Christ's face which we've been shown as how Rodrigues imagines the Lamb of God in his prayers and meditations. Garfield, with his thin features and his hair grown out into a magnificent mane, makes a fitting vessel for this sort of transfiguration. 

The moment, alas, does not come greeted with a moment of intervention or inspiration. Rodrigues bursts into unsettling, hollow laughter. In his manic, dehydrated state, he seems ecstatic with such a vision, but the tone and timing suggests the sort of madness one would find in a 70s-era Herzog drama. Yet Scorsese curtails the sequence before such madness turns hallucinatory. Rodrigo Prieto's images, even at their most painterly, have an air of reality to them. The staging thrives on ordinariness, rather than elaborately constructed tableaus.

All the better, then, to enable the film to cut to the heart of its conflicts. Somewhere towards the middle (I think) of the film, Silence shifts from acting as a drama about the faithful, and morphs into a searing interrogation of men of the cloth and their motivations. Rodrigues meets a number of foils among the Japanese, chief among them a translator (Tadanobu Asano) and the inquisitor Inoue (Issei Ogata). Though radically different in their approaches, the two men proceed to challenge not just Rodrigues' convictions and his mission, but the core of Catholicism itself, as well as its place in a country like Japan. 

And it's here, when it's most bound to simple scenes of people talking, that Silence finally grasps the intangible profundity it's been reaching for the whole time. Asano and Ogata make excellent philosophical adversaries for Garfield's Rodrigues, with Ogata in particular relishing every word (among his most notable jabs: "the price for your glory is their suffering.") So many faith-based films use Christian conviction as a crutch, including this year's Hacksaw Ridge, which also planted Mr. Garfield at the center. With that baseline established, a film like Silence becomes all the more remarkable. Here is a drama with source material from a Catholic writer (albeit a Japanese convert, and not a European), directed by a passionately Catholic director, that avoids turning its protagonists into the one-note martyrs they secretly wish to be. 

The most magnificent wrench of all, however, comes in the form of Fr. Ferreira (Liam Neeson, thankfully not even attempting the accent). In addition to administering to the persecuted faithful, Rodrigues and Garrpe have snuck into Japan to seek out their former mentor, who has been rumored to have renounced the faith and taken up life as an ordinary member of Japanese society. Ferreira's eventual return to the narrative (best left unsaid) gives Silence a final headbutt of ambiguity, heightening the specificity of the film's conflicts, while simultaneously making them all the more universal. Neeson, in his all-too-brief screen time, is nothing short of mesmerizing. In such quick moments, he conveys Ferreira's decades of work in Japan, and the toll it took on him. Ferreira's exploits could have easily been their own film, and the way Neeson takes the bones of Scorsese and Jay Cocks' script and turns it into its own meal is nothing short of astonishing. It's a masterful moment of teaching both for Rodrigues and the viewer, the complexity of which has stayed with me long after the lights went up in the theater.

In my four years at a Jesuit-led high school, one of the theological ideas that I remember most is that faith without room for doubt is not really faith, but merely blind obedience. That remarkably nuanced notion, standing in such stark contrast to the right wing extremists now posturing as 21st century moralists, has stayed with me even as whatever religion I had slipped away. And, whatever my personal beliefs now, that Catholic and Jesuit identity (hello, Catholic guilt, you old bastard) is still etched, however faintly, in my being. To see that same sort of depth is a monumental intellectual achievement, one that overrides the vagueries that somewhat plague the central role of Rodrigues (he is both an individual and a representative of the faith as a whole, though not quite to the degree where it feels possible to empathize with him enough). With such a long wait, it would be tempting to hold Silence to the standard that anything less than a masterpiece would be a letdown. To do so, I think, would be to dismiss the tremendous accomplishments on display. Rodrigues and Garrpe may find themselves starving, but their story is veritable feast of ideas, the strengths of which are made all the more powerful by their existence alongside the flaws. 


Grade: B+

Review: "Non-Stop"

Director: Jaume Collet-Serra
Runtime: 106 minutes

It seemed only natural that Liam Neeson thrillers would eventually grow wings and take to the skies. Yet who would have thought that the result would be so engaging, despite the increasing levels of preposterousness? After several misses (Taken 2, Unknown), Mr. Neeson's stock as an action hero gets a boost in this Hitchcock-lite bottle movie, thanks to some dynamic directing and effectively managed suspense. 

When we first meet Air Marshal Bill Marks (Neeson), he's drinking whiskey in his car at an airport parking lot. As director Jaume Collet-Serra quickly sketches out with visual cues, Bill isn't doing so hot at the moment, what with the drinking problem and the estranged daughter. The rest of the work is simply up to Neeson, who, at 61, is still capable of effortlessly commanding the screen with all of his 6'4 frame. 

A good thing, too, seeing as much of the movie's first half is comprised of Marks facing off against some anonymous text messages. Aboard a flight to London, Marks learns that someone plans to kill off a passenger every 20 minutes until $150 million is transferred into an account (almost as frightening as actual online banking transfers). 

Rather than immediately go into action, Non-Stop decides to have fun with the mystery portion of its story. Collet-Serra and his cast (including Julianne Moore and Downton Abbey's Michelle Dockery) are all incredibly game in their approach to such middle of the road material. Non-Stop won't go down as one of the great modern thrillers, but it has enough fun with its concept to ensure that the ride is involving, rather than tedious. 

While not oppressively dark, Non-Stop's willingness to keep itself largely grounded is part of what makes it so easy to engage with. Even the more ludicrous elements of the story, which only rear their heads near the very end, are kept to a minimum. Instead of a bevy of over-the-top stunts, Non-Stop has only one, and Collet-Serra hardly drags it out or indulges the moment. 

Perhaps the lone disappointment is the eventual revelation of the killer's identity. Though the grandstanding and monologuing is kept in check, the killer's motivation is almost staggeringly stupid, and undermines the tension that should have driven the climactic action sequences. Had the whole movie been of drastically lower quality, the insanity of the villain's motivation could have provided some level of nonsensical cinematic glee. Instead, it puts a bit of a damper on a otherwise solidly assembled, B-level thriller. 

Yet, by the time the final moments, which don't overstay their welcome, roll around, it's difficult to be too angry about Non-Stop's flaws. Suspension of disbelief is key to a movie like Non-Stop, and thankfully everyone involved has largely done their best to make this an accommodating vehicle for that suspension. No one will care about the film in a a matter of weeks, but as movie-of-the-week escapism, Non-Stop gets more than enough right at the surface level to be worth the time. 

Grade: B-/C+

Review: "The Lego Movie"

Directors: Phil Lord & Christopher Miller
Runtime: 100 minutes

By all accounts, The Lego Movie shouldn't work. On the surface, it seems like the evil twin of Pixar's Toy Story franchise: a calculated attempt at cashing in on a name brand without any legitimate cinematic effort. Yet even though there's no doubt that The Lego Movie will help boost sales of the famous toys, Phil Lord and Christopher Miller's film still stands tall as its own achievement. Rather than a cheap cash grab, The Lego Movie is a snappy, funny, and utterly delightful work with the right mix of broad appeal and actual cinematic smarts.

Though the story is full of cliches, including the prophecy-filled opening, Lord and Miller's script knows how to embrace and subvert cliches, rather than become weighed down by them. At its core, The Lego Movie is about an ordinary guy (Emmett, voiced by Chris Pratt), getting swept up in an adventure to save the world. Yet rather than settle for saccharine condescension, The Lego Movie has a little more going on under the surface, albeit not at first glance. 

Even without the final act (which I'll leave unspoiled), this is still a constantly engaging, frequently hilarious joyride. The stellar voice cast, which also includes Elizabeth Banks, Will Arnett, Will Ferrell, Alison Brie, and Morgan Freeman, are all perfectly on point with their delivery. Even when confined to the limited expressions of the digitally enhanced Lego figures, these characters really pop. Equally impressive is how Lord and Miller manage to make the film equally enjoyable for all ages, without ever stooping into crude or gross-out territory. Rather than pander, The Lego Movie focuses on a charming, and ultimately touching story about creativity and independence, with just the right touch of subversion.

The animation is just as impressive. The figures all look sleek and polished, yet the movement still has the feel of actual Lego bricks. It's a decision that feels both retro and refreshingly new. Above all, what makes The Lego Movie stand out is that it truly feels like a work of love, rather than a glorified advertisement. There are real characters, a real (albeit traditional) story, and even a brief flash of genuine emotional heft. 

That's not to say that The Lego Movie hits the same highs as the best of the Pixar canon, but it's still and beautifully accomplished work of animation on all fronts. Once the story movies past the purposefully bland introduction, the whole project roars to life, and keeps the jokes and exciting set pieces coming with smart efficiency. Above all else, The Lego Movie is proof that, with the right levels of passion and care, commercial properties can function as their own enjoyable films. It's enough to make you forget that the whole project likely started as nothing more than a glorified commercial designed to make a few extra bucks.

Grade: B+

"Wrath of the Titans" is a masterpiece!!

That's the best I could do as far as April Fool's jokes are concerned. 

Now, onto the actual review. The last thing most of us really cared about was a sequel to 2010's Clash of the Titans remake, but that sure as hell didn't stop the studios. The '10 film was a surprisingly unenjoyable action-adventure fantasy, made worse by some stiff looking 3D VFX work. So it comes as quite a surprise that the completely unnecessary sequel is actually better than its predecessor and has some enjoyable parts to it, even if they don't necessarily justify a trip to the theater (wait for the DVD).


Picking up a decade after Clash, Perseus (Sam Worthington, whose acting seems to have plateaued at an unfortunate level) now lives with a young son in a seaside village. Unfortunately, trouble is brewing again. The gods are losing their power as fewer people pray to them, thereby weakening the bonds that have kept the titans imprisoned in Tartarus. When Hades (Ralph Fiennes) and Ares (Edgar Ramirez) betray Zeus (Liam Neeson) and Poseidon (Danny Huston), they set the world on a path towards destruction that only Perseus can stop.


Let's get a few things out of the way. The writing isn't deep at all, characters go through roughly no development, and most of the story feels quite minor before the massive finale. That said, there's something oddly enjoyable about Wrath. It's obviously not good, but it's no train wreck, and even though some of the action is only adequately handled, some of it is quite fun. A lot of this has to do with the technical aspects, which are aces across the board. The visual effects team and props department deserve quite a bit of praise for all of the detail they've put into everything. Watching Cronos, seen here as a semi-humanoid mound of molten lava, burst out of a mountain in rage is spectacular. Other creatures, like a set of siamese-twin demons that wreck havoc on Queen Andromeda's (Rosamund Pike) army, are equally impressive. The film also boasts some wonderful design, namely in a killer sequence where Perseus and company navigate into Tartarus via a massive, constantly-shifting stone labyrinth.


And as little development as there is, the film does contain one surprisingly nice moment involving Zeus and Hades. Considering the scene that follows, I began wondering how much more fun both Clash and Wrath would have been if it had focused entirely on this relationship. But what ultimately saves Wrath of the Titans is that, despite having all the hallmarks of bloated-yet-hollow schlock, it's not offensively dumb or trashy. It's silly, but there's a sense of fun present that makes it a decent enough viewing experience, especially when it reaches its epic climactic battle. It doesn't happen often, but there are times when sequels surpass originals, and this is one such case. Not that the bar was set high by Clash, but it's nice to know that when Hollywood makes a sequel to a bad movie, they can still redeem themselves...sort of.

Grade: C+

Review: "The Grey"

I've gotten off to a slow start when it comes to 2012 releases. Despite the stereotype that January and February are wastelands (save for films expanding from limited release or foreign films finally making post-Oscar theatrical debuts), there have been quite a few films that have caught my attention. Unfortunately, many will have to wait for DVD (sorry, Haywire), given how sluggish I've been. However, last night I was able to finally make it to my second release of the new year, and thankfully it was a marked improvement from The Woman in Black.

Despite not being much more than decent, Joe Carnahan's The Grey is a big step forward in the director's career, and a refreshingly solid piece for star Liam Neeson. Having previously directed Smokin' Aces and The A-Team, I went into Carnahan's latest expecting yet another Neeson-driven action flick, albeit one set in the wilderness. Yet despite the sizable helping of violence in the film, The Grey represents a more mature effort from Carnahan; here's hoping the trend continues.

The premise of The Grey is simple: following a horrific plane crash in the Alaskan wilderness, 7 oil workers must fight for their survival, facing off against nature in the forms of weather and a nasty pack of wolves. And, for the most part, the execution is straightforward. Yet perhaps its the general absence of crazy, kinetic energy that aids The Grey, despite its somewhat predictable path. There are any number of strikingly long shots, many of which steadily intensify both the emotion and the atmosphere. And even though there are any number of violent confrontations with the group's lupine adversaries, Carnahan balances these with scenes occasionally punctuated by the wolves' howling. The animals don't just pop out of nowhere (barring a few jump scares); we get to see how they work as they try to whittle away at the group's stamina (as well as their numbers).

So even though the characters - Neeson excluded - aren't exactly fleshed out save for expositional details, we as an audience do feel a sense of community among them, despite the presence of the obligatory trouble-maker (Frank Grillo). That said, the ensemble each have some solid moments, but nothing that a bunch of amateurs couldn't have accomplished. Neeson, in a refreshing turn, gives some of his best work of the past few years. It's not up there with the actor's best work, but considering his recent run of blockbusters and throwaway action fare, it's something. The actor possesses an inherently commanding persona, yet here he's actually given material that forces him to do more than coast on said persona. The only questionable aspect of the performance is the fact that Neeson seems to cover up his Irish accent, only for it to slip out further down the line. The film does later tell us that Ottway is, in fact, Irish, but it feels like a hastily thrown in addition to the script, as though Neeson said to hell with faking an American accent midway through production.

And speaking of production, that's where the other key strengths of The Grey are found. Masonobu Takayanagi's photography has some truly sublime moments, and keeps the tundra locales from becoming dull or repetitive. In the aural departments, Marc Streitenfeld's score, despite a few beats that come on too strong, lends the film's funereal narrative some needed energy, particularly in the slight cop-out of an ending. Less successful are the special effects, which don't quite bring a convincing enough edge to the wolf pack hunting the protagonists down. In close-ups the animals look fine, but in wide shots they look like they belong in the cartoony and stylized world of Zack Snyder, which couldn't be further from the rest of Carnahan's film. Much better are the more practical effects, including two excellent bits involving Ottway being, quite literally, ripped from his dreams.

Yet despite some inspired moments and strong aspects, The Grey isn't quite as powerful as it strives to be. From quite an early point after the plane crash, you'll realize that it doesn't matter what the outcome is, merely in what order the demises occur. The ending undoes some of this, and it creates a compelling moment out a scenario that both sinks your stomach and makes you shake your head at the enormity of the coincidence happening. Somewhere within The Grey, there was a truly harrowing tale of survival, but Carnahan's film seems caught between artistic inclinations and action-oriented storytelling to maximize its potential. Not a bad film (disregarding the wolves, that is), but one whose merits are knocked down by an overall sense of settling for little more than adequacy.

Grade: B-

Liam Neeson and Cedric the Entertainer join "Selma"

Liam Neeson is amazing, and I'm dying to see him "release the kraken!" next weekend, but I'm not sure I see the physical resemblance to LBJ...even with the wonders that make up can do these days; the facial structure just seems too different. Still excited for this, because of its eclectic cast.

Source: IMDB forums (publication unknown)

Irish actor Liam Neeson has been confirmed to play President Lyndon Johnson in the civil rights drama called "Selma.” Neeson, whose career is on fire at the minute, will work with Oscar nominated “Precious” director Lee Daniels. At the Oscars this year , Daniels hinted that Neeson and Cedric the Entertainer were on board for his next project. However, it was only confirmed this week. Lenny Kravitz and Hugh Jackman have already signed up for the movie. The movie centers on the civil rights disputes that raged during the 1960s. It primarily focuses on the historic marches staged by Dr. Martin Luther King in 1965 in Selma, Alabama. David Oyelowo will play King, Jackman will star as the racist sheriff Jim Clark, and Kravitz has been cast as activist Andrew Young. Cedric the Entertainer will play Ralph Abernathy.