2011 DGA Nominations: And the race gets weirder...

As many critics awards as their are across the nation, at the end of the day it's really the guild awards that act as better indicators of who's winning AMPAS' favor, especially in a year as uncertain as 2011. We certainly saw that last year when The Social Network won just about everything under the sun, until The King's Speech trounced it at the guild awards and on Oscar night. The SAG, PGA, and WGA have all announced their nominees, leaving only the Director's Guild. And with their nominees, they've thrown a wrench into some Oscar campaigns, while giving others a boost.

The Nominees:

Woody Allen - Midnight in Paris

David Fincher - The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo

Michel Hazanvicius - The Artist

Alexander Payne - The Descendants

Martin Scorcese - Hugo

Who got a boost: The biggest winner after today has to be Fincher and Dragon Tattoo as a whole. Ever since the first screenings, the film was being labeled as one that would make little to no contribution to the awards race. In the past few weeks the film has scored with the PGA and WGA, and the DGA nod is just icing on the cake. For the film to miss out on a Best Picture nomination and/or Best Director nomination is becoming increasingly unlikely. Star Rooney Mara may have missed with the SAG, but could still end up as a surprise Best Actress nominee, as one of many nominations the film looks likely to score now. So even though Dragon Tattoo isn't necessarily a threat to win the top prize, at the very least it can consider itself a strong contender, which is quite to comeback considering all of the doubters.

Then there's Woody Allen and Alexander Payne. Payne's film has generally stood a better shot, but there was always the chance that he would get pushed out by contenders with "bigger" films. After today, though, he's become even more of a sure thing, though the actual win is doubtful. The same goes for Allen, who could score his first Best Director nomination since Bullets Over Broadway (1994). If either of these two men takes the DGA prize, however, it will only serve to further upset the Best Director race.

Who took a hit: Unlike Woody Allen, whose film also launched in early summer, Terrence Malick was allowed any love from the DGA, or any major guild for that matter. Considering the divisive nature of Malick's film, however, it's not entirely surprising. Drive's Nicholas Winding-Refn and War Horse's Steven Spielberg, however, should probably not get their hopes up for the remainder of awards season. I'm sure Refn had a fan base within the DGA for Drive, but at the end of the day the voters favored established names (well, aside from Spielberg). Of course, there's always room for surprises come Nomination morning, but knowing the DGA's close alignment with the Academy, I suspect the chances for the above-mentioned trio are at long last dead. Such a shame...at least for the first two. War Horse has, to be honest, felt like nothing but an afterthought and an obligation rather than a legitimate contender.

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

"Shutter Island" - REVIEW

There are an eerie number of similarities to be found in Martin Scorcese's Shutter Island and John Hillcoat's The Road. First, both are adapted from acclaimed novels; second, both adaptations are quite faithful to the events from the novels; third, both feature acclaimed directors and actors; and last (and worst) of all, both were delayed. This, however, is where they diverge. Whereas The Road was delayed by a full year in order to have a less rushed post-production period, as well as to tweak the film based on test screenings, Scorcese's film had been completed for a goodly while, and had been testing through the roof. The question remains then, why on earth was such a damn good film pushed into the "dead zone" of film releases, instead of pushed as a prime Oscar contender? Was there trouble in the studio, or in the marketing department? Was the film actually testing poorly? Was it Paramount's financial situation? Most likely it's the latter, but that mostly comes down to speculation, and that's not what this post is about; we're here to talk about Shutter Island, the latest collaboration between Martin Scorcese and Leonardo DiCaprio (this being their fourth).

Adapted from Dennis Lehane's chilling 2003 novel of the same title (thank god they didn't change it to "Ashecliffe," as had been rumored), the film is the story of Boston-based federal marshals (or in this case: DUAHLLY APPOINTED FEHDERAHL MAHSHALLS) Teddy Daniels (Leonardo DiCaprio) and Chuck Aule (Mark Ruffalo). Set in 1954, the film opens with the pair on a ferry to Shutter Island, where criminally insane murderess Rachel Solando (Emily Mortimer, always a welcome presence) has mysteriously vanished without a trace. However, as indicated in any of the marketing, there's more going on at Shutter Island that anyone could have predicted.

One of the most immediately striking aspects of Scorcese's latest is that is feels so, well...un-Scorcese like. In style it feels more like one big creepy homage to both Hitchcock and Kubrick's The Shining (1980). Creepy imagery seems to fill every frame, even in the daytime, and even when it doesn't, the film throws you off balance with blaring, ominous music. In the film's most obvious Kubrick reference, unsettling horns and strings cry out as the camera follows a car along a seemingly safe, winding road. Only minutes later, we're given the opposite: Teddy sees, in slow motion, a particularly eerie patient look up at him and hold her finger to her lips while mouthing "shhhh," all in complete silence. This may not be Scorcese's next masterpiece, but if there's one thing clear, it's that Shutter Island is Scorcese's at his most un-restrained, and most gleefully cinematic and genre-conscious. But be warned, the film is something of a slow-burner, and it will require your full attention. And it's long (2 hrs 18 min).

But ultimately what works about Shutter Island is, ironically what partially hurt The Road: extreme faithfulness to the source material (to be fair, McCarthy's novel was never going to be easy to film...ever). The story remains as compelling as it was on page, even if it might not move as quickly as expected. It also benefits from its superb casting, not only in DiCaprio and Ruffalo (who is underused; the character isn't actually THAT prominent), but in the wide range of supporting players such as Ben Kingsley and Max Von Sydow. But the three who really stand out here are the women: Michelle Williams as Teddy's wife, Emily Mortimer as Rachel Solando, and Patricia Clarkson as a, well, mysterious woman. Williams is graceful and quietly magnetic, as is Clarkson in her one scene, but for me it's Mortimer who partially steals the show. The bug-eyed could have been done by anyone, but there's a particular dream sequence where she and Scorcese's style shine. She appears behind Teddy, covered in the blood of the three bodies at her feet, with her face looking like it was streaked by a madman's paintbrush. It's one of several haunting images that make the film memorable.

And that might just be the only significant issue I have with Shutter Island: the style. The film certainly isn't hollow, but in visually amping up the creep factor, the film's characters, even central protagonist Teddy, don't resonate as emotionally as they perhaps could have. This, along with the slightly dragged out, spell-it-all-out ending, hamper the film, but only slightly. All in all, the performances (DiCaprio is quite strong as a man gradually questioning his own sanity), the music (none of which is original, and ranges from Mahler to Max Richter) and most of all Scorcese's direction and the atmosphere he creates, add up to create one hell of a creep-fest that stands as proof that February doesn't have to be a dark period for theatrical releases.

Grade: B+/B