Director: Jonathan Glazer
Runtime: 108 minutes
It's been a decade since Jonathan Glazer's last film, the unfairly maligned Birth, hit theaters. His newest effort, which he's been trying to get made since 2002, is a chilly calling card that makes one hope his next project won't take nearly as long to debut. In Under the Skin, an adaptation of Michael Faber's novel, Glazer goes even deeper down Kubrickian rabbit hole as his cinematic voice continues to bloom. Though slow in pace, this minimalist sci-fi drama boasts an eerie, hypnotic atmosphere, as well as a captivating and subtle turn from star Scarlett Johansson.
Yet while Under the Skin's style calls to mind Mr. Kubrick, its narrative shares more with Nicolas Roeg's famous The Man Who Fell to Earth. That film starred David Bowie as an alien making his way through human society, albeit in a rather passive way. Glazer and Johansson's woman who fell to earth, however, is much more predatory. Her sole mission, which we learn only through visual storytelling, is to lure men back to her lair and consume them. How she does this is never explicitly shown either, though Mr. Glazer captures one such devouring in an unsettlingly abstract sequence in the first half.
Filmed using guerrilla techniques (many of Johansson's interactions are with everyday, unaware citizens of Scotland), Glazer's main goal is to make Under the Skin a sensory experience. Even with the often glacial pacing, it's a decision that pays off in the long run. Under the Skin's early scenes are its most difficult to get through, but only because they're so in sync with Johansson's nameless predatory protagonist: cold, aloof, alluring, and existentially unnerving.
Had there been no progression from the initial seduce and attack structure, Under the Skin would certainly have become a chore to sit through. So it's with great relief that, after a significant encounter shakes the alien's faith in her mission, that the frost-bitten puzzle pieces start to add up to something greater. Though there are other, parallel interpretations worth exploring (most notably involving power and gender), Under the Skin's primary journey is one of a predator coming to sympathize with her prey. Early on, she drifts through her strange surroundings, only showing emotion when it becomes necessary. Yet after her fateful encounter, the cracks start to show, even as they're often obscured in inky black shadows.
Much of this comes down to Johansson's finely tuned performance, which is tasked with carrying the entire enterprise. Watching this blank, withdrawn observer shift from domineering seductress to curious investigator of the human race is a quiet miracle thanks to what Johansson is able to communicate with her face. In Birth, Nicole Kidman received considerable attention for a prolonged silent reaction shot during a scene at an opera. Johansson's performance in Under the Skin is that same bit of acting stretched out over 108 minutes. Under different circumstances, it could have easily fallen apart, but Glazer has once again worked wonders with his leading lady to produce a low key, yet intelligently crafted performance.
The lone drawback to Glazer's approach is that it could prove too arctic to engage with at all. In planting us so firmly in the head of the alien wanderer, Glazer makes the film difficult to truly get lost in at the start. Even when Under the Skin does start to open up, it's in tiny increments. As such, there are a few scenes here and there that could probably do with losing a few seconds here and there, if only to get to the heart of the narrative a tad faster.
Still, it's commendable how Glazer sticks to his vision and never wavers for the sake of accessibility. Under the Skin is defiantly cold, even when it finally asks us to feel some sense of sympathy for its central character. Underscoring it all is Mica Levi's brilliantly strange music, which only intensifies the feeling that we're viewing our world through the lens of another. At her core, Johansson's alien is just too fundamentally different to exist within our world, unless she sticks to her violent programming. Yet just because she, and Under the Skin, are hard to relate to, doesn't mean that they lack value. Quite the contrary. It's that very obtuseness that demands that we look so much closer.
Grade: A-
Director: Spike Jonze
Runtime: 120 minutes
The future is a sleek, dark, sterile world. At least, that's what your average near-future dystopia would tell you. This being the case, director Spike Jonze deserves a lot of credit for his simple, ultimately warm look at where our society is headed, with his new romance Her. He also deserves credit for, in his first outing as a writer, delivering such a funny, heartfelt, and empathetic look at love and human relationships in our increasingly tech-obsessed world.
Despite lonely protagonist Theodore (Joaquin Phoenix), Jonze approaches Her by doing a complete 180 from his previous film, 2009's Where the Wild Things Are. That film took a children's book and infused it into a tale filled with poignant, soulful mourning. By contrast, this tale of adults and their romantic lives is mostly a light comedy.
Rather than opt for a future filled with nihilistic heaviness, Jonze and his collaborators have dreamed up a world filled with warmth. Rather than oppressive grays, Her is shot and designed to incorporate a wide range of soft, vibrant pastels. Some of Hoyt van Hoytema's shot compositions showcase the towering skyscrapers of Los Angeles, but the film is ultimately concerned with intimacy.
For Theodore, that intimacy comes not from another person, but from a futuristic new operating system. Once activated, the program develops a personality, that grows as its spends more time with the given customer. Theodore's OS, for example, gives herself the name Samantha (voiced by Scarlett Johansson), and quickly becomes her own strong-willed personality. In line with the film's notions of simplicity, the artificial intelligence in Her takes no physical form. There are Blade Runner-esque androids. There's only the voice.
While Jonze gets to craft scenes and images, and Phoenix has room to visibly express himself, Johansson is left with only her voice. She's Her's make it or break it element, and thankfully, she succeeds with flying colors. Though she came to prominence in roles that emphasized emotional minimalism (Girl with a Pearl Earring, Lost in Translation), Johansson proves she's capable of creating a richly textured character without even appearing on screen. Jonze's script only helps the performance. He gives Samantha room to be her own person. Though she's technically there to be a voice for Theodore's computer, Her's progression makes her every bit as well rounded as her "owner," even though she comes into the movie with no background or baggage.
Likewise, Amy Adams' Amy is also given room to have her own life. For a movie ostensibly about a man falling in love with his computer, Her's women are refreshingly independent. Though they have moments to comfort Theodore, Jonze writes them as full-bodied beings with more to do than act as emotional sounding boards for a man. Even Rooney Mara, as Theodore's ex-wife Catherine, is never simplified or demonized. Though most of Catherine's scenes are silent flashbacks, Jonze never robs her of a voice. The reason for her split from Theodore is given a fair shake, with both parties shown enduring some form of emotional struggle.
As valuable as the women are, however, Her is built on both Theodore and Samantha. And for a couple who never visibly share the screen, Phoenix and Johansson work wonders together. Phoenix throws himself into the goofy, aloof Theodore with the same force he gave to the tormented and animalistic Freddie Quell in last year's The Master. Despite being known largely for playing men riddled with demons, Phoenix makes for a surprising comedic and romantic lead.
The performances and direction only heighten as the film dips into deeper territory. Her is, somewhat contrary to the marketing, a comedy, but Jonze never forgets to push beneath the surface charm. Yet rather than become fully dramatic in the later portions, it's perhaps more accurate to say that the film becomes empathetic. Jonze wrings some beautifully romantic and heartfelt moments out of his sci-fi laced scenario, yet there's never an emotional heaviness behind it. In fact, the film's few uncomfortable moments come when seemingly dramatic scenes are suddenly punctuated with obviously intentional comedy. You enjoy the comedy, but simultaneously can't help but wish that a serious beat had simply been allowed to settle and take root.
Her isn't so much a searing study of human relationships as it is a gently comforting, though ultimately lighthearted romance. It's easy enough to dismiss Jonze's tone as nothing but frivolity. The film's lightness is underscored by moments of deep feeling that speak for themselves though restrained direction and beautiful performances. Her is a gorgeous technical package (with van Hoytema's cinematography taking best in show honors) ,but it would be nothing without committed performances lending some real soul to its deceptive lightness. In Phoenix and Johansson, however, Jonze has found a perfect pair around which to build his singular vision of our rapidly deepening relationship with technology.
So many films have tried tackling society's progression with heavy-handed seriousness. Her, on the other hand, sees fit to view the future with guarded optimism and a lovely sense of hope, despite the inevitable complexities that arise along the way. The journey into the future is uncertain, but for Spike Jonze, it's humanity's constant needs that are the real driving force behind society's developments. As it turns out, those are more impressive than any grandiose advancements in technology or special effects.
Grade: B+/A-
You have to admire Marvel for their dedication. Over the past four years, they've poured a lot into building up the four distinct big players who make up The Avengers, as well as an array of smaller roles. So, with so many big characters set up, The Avengers faced the challenge of bringing a lot of larger than life personalities, the film needed someone at the reins who could effectively juggle all of the film's pieces. Enter Joss Whedon, beloved creator of TV shows Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Firefly. What Whedon achieves, thankfully, is a lively balance of comic book fan service and capable cinematic vision, even if it lacks anything to make it more than a fun ride.
And, despite a 140 runtime that could have given us a bloated mess a la Transformers 2, Whedon actually moves the pieces of the plot with enough verve to keep the film from falling into indulgence. Though the opening is easily the weakest part, it doesn't last long and is at least efficient in setting up a critical part of the story, Tom Hiddleston's returning villain, Loki, last seen in 2011's Thor. From there, things generally get better and better, and even when the film stalls, it's never for long enough to really make an impact. Whedon's script isn't as smart or witty as it thinks it is, but it does do a good job of playing the characters off of each other. Particularly well-utilized are Iron Man/Tony Stark's (Robert Downey Jr.) clashes with Captain America/Steve Rogers (Chris Evans), two men who represent two very different manifestations of what America stands for. Less interesting is Thor (Chris Hemsworth), who fights with the above-mentioned characters along with Mark Ruffalo's Hulk. As these fights are kept purely physical, they do little to add to film's presentation of the Avengers as a bit of a rough-around-the-edges group. The two less flashy characters - Scarlett Johannson's Black Widow and Jeremy Renner's Hawkeye - are also less interesting in general, although at least Johannson has plenty to do, while Renner is sidelined for a great deal of the plot. More fun is Hiddleston as Loki, who actually brings a fun sense of menace to the role that seemed missing in Thor. His motivation is as standard as they come, but at least the actor gives the role some presence.
So even though it does a better job of handling its characters than the average summer spectacle, it still falls short in this department. Much is forgotten (though not forgiven), however, in the massive climactic battle, in which Manhattan is, as always, brought nearly to ruin. Though there are a few edits that puzzle, Whedon's staging of the sprawling battle covers all of the heroes so comfortably that the battle never grows tiresome. The stakes are never quite there - Whedon keeps things a little too safe - but at the very least it's always watchable, engaging, and throwing enough at you to hold your interest without becoming bombastic nonsense. What's really missing though, outside of one hilarious scene involving the Hulk, is anything memorable, either in the laughs or the drama. It's a fun ride, and certainly worth seeing on the big screen, but don't be surprised if you don't find much to talk or reminisce about a day later.
Grade: B-
