Review: "Crimson Peak"

Director: Guillermo Del Toro
Runtime: 119 minutes

In an early flashback in Crimson Peak, a ghost whispers to young Edith Cushing (Mia Wasikowska) that she should beware of the titular location. A similar warning should be given out to those going to see Guillermo Del Toro's latest film under the wrong impression. If you want to be either scared witless or grossed out by blood and gore, look elsewhere. But if you want to see a film that gorgeously translates the themes and tropes of gothic romance to the screen - albeit with flashes of the supernatural and R-rated content - look no further. Mr. Del Toro courted mainstream appeal with his last film, the glorified machines vs. monsters B-movie Pacific Rim. Let his newest endeavor, despite being made in English and through the studio system, sees the Mexican auteur returning to his roots, with sumptuous and haunting results.

The first ghost appears only moments into Crimson Peak, and past that point, you'd be forgiven for thinking you were in the wrong theater. The amber-tinted images the capture the hushed romance of Edith and the mysterious Thomas Sharpe (Tom Hiddleston) feel more in line with The Age of Innocence than anything remotely connected to the horror or supernatural thriller dramas. Despite the increased appearance of ghouls and ghosts later, the romance portion of the film is where Mr. Del Toro's attention really lies. Wasikowska's Edith is an aspiring novelist, and in one scene she is met with confusion from an editor who tries to pigeonhole her short story as a "ghost story." "I like to think of it as a story with a ghost in it," is her reply, and the line doubles as Del Toro's mission statement for Crimson Peak as well. 

It's fitting that Wasikowska plays the story's hero, seeing as she's already proven her worth playing the eponymous role of Jane Eyre, subject of one of the most revered Gothic romances in literature. In this new venture, Wasikowska and Del Toro have created a protagonist who remains fiercely independent and inquisitive, even as her situation deteriorates. The reasons for Edith's eventual endangerment are best left unclear, but - quite obviously - they stem from the presence of Thomas and his standoffish sister Lucille (Jessica Chastain). 

Del Toro has melded a variety of influences (Jane Eyre, Hammer horror films, Rebecca) that could have proven unwieldy. But even when the influences are obvious or expected, the delivery is fresh when filtered through the director's vision. Del Toro, working with a wide range of new technical collaborators, has put his visual stamp on every inch of Crimson Peak, and it's often ravishing to behold. Even if the mix of genres fails to fully convince, you can always get lost in the immaculately designed sets. In typical Del Toro fashion, Crimson Peak's settings, clothes, and even people, are simultaneously gorgeous and grotesque.  

Equally impressive is how elegantly Del Toro and co. keep the story moving. The director's English-language films, to date, have all been his weakest from a pacing standpoint. Crimson Peak, thankfully, bucks that trend. Enough time is given to Edith and Thomas' courtship to make it convincing, yet the film is never bogged down by the period details. There are moments of visual wonderment, but they are often captured through smoothly edited passages and informative camera movements that never allow Crimson Peak's atmosphere to stagnate. 

Fantastic sets are one thing, you may ask, but what about the people inhabiting those densely designed settings? Crimson Peak's characters are largely meant to evoke other iconic roles, meaning they lack a true specificity. But that doesn't stop the cast from have a grand time vamping it up, all while staying sincere. Wasikowska does the wan intelligence bit superbly, keeping Edith sharp(e) even when she (and the audience) are left in the dark. Personally, Hiddleston is the biggest surprise of the cast. As somehow who has repeatedly left indifferent by his work, I was delighted by how well he captured Thomas' Byronic facade. The role could have called for nothing more than a handsome face, but the actor does some splendid work opposite his co-stars. And speaking of co-stars, he has two excellent ones in Wasikowska and Chastain. The latter is ultimately the film's MVP, despite a misleading one-note approach at the outset. Lucille's raven hair, like her psyche, comes unraveled over the course of the story, and to watch Chastain (affecting a mostly solid British accent) play such an overtly creepy (and later menacing) character is another testament to her range. 

The three central characters are tasked with charting a psychological game that is constantly shifting gears, and Del Toro does a marvelous job of subverting audience expectations. Crimson Peak's eventual payoff is not immediately impressive when compared to, say, The Sixth Sense. But it is a rewarding all the same. Del Toro's script prepares to go big, but then pulls the rug out from under the viewer in favor of a twist that plays more on ideas than plot developments or supernatural gotcha moments. Ghosts may be real in the world of Crimson Peak, but they, like Thomas and Lucille, a far from what they seem. The film's opening warning specifies what Edith should beware at Crimson Peak. It never specified whom...

Grade: B+/A-

Review: "Only Lovers Left Alive"

Director: Jim Jarmusch
Runtime: 122 minutes

While big budget vampire endeavors have mostly failed (critically and commercially), the independent and foreign circuits have been much more successful. 2008 gave us the Swedish Let the Right One In, and the following year saw the release of South Korea's Thirst. And, just last year, Neil Jordan's Byzantium, though hardly a consensus favorite, was still a success. These stories work because, despite their centuries old, supernatural characters, focus on character-driven intimacy, rather than grandiose battles. The same is also true of Jim Jarmusch's Only Lovers Left Alive, in which the hazy atmosphere takes precedence over bloodshed and fangs. 

That's not to say that there isn't a good deal of the red stuff seen on screen, but it's almost never accompanied by violence. Detroit-based Adam (Tom Hiddleston), a total shut in, gets his blood from a nearby hospital lab. Though the temptation to feed on a human (or "zombie," as Adam derisively refers to them) remains, Adam remains resolute in his isolation. On the other hand, his lover Eve (Tilda Swinton), though hardly a party-goer, spends her nights traversing the ancient, empty streets of Tangier. If nothing else, Only Lovers Left Alive is proof that slow motion footage of Tilda Swinton never gets old. Other than excursions to meet friends or acquire blood (O-negative is the drink of choice), however, the ancient lovers remain in their brilliantly conceived apartments listening to music.

If anything, music seems to be the last thing that really holds them together. Jarmusch and cinematographer Yorick Le Saux open the film with a series of spiraling shots: first the night sky, then a spinning record, and then overhead views of Adam and Eve in their respective homes. Yet while Eve seems content to lie back and let the music drift over her, Adam slouches on his couch. His conditional immortality has taken a toll on him, to the point where he commissions his lone "friend" (Anton Yelchin) to find him a wooden bullet. Sensing her lover's emotional despair, Eve travels to Detroit (night flights only, of course), to reconnect with her eternal beloved one.

From that point on, Only Lovers Left Alive doesn't really change much. Even the arrival of Eve's wild sister Ava (Mia Wasikowska), doesn't shake up the film's routine too much. There are conversations about past friends (Lord Byron, Schubert), drives around the most desolate parts of Detroit, and music to liven the mood. On paper, it sounds like it shouldn't work. There's so little that happens in Only Lovers Left Alive, which is why it's a good thing that Jarmusch and his collaborators nail the dreamy atmosphere from the opening frames. The pacing is hardly taut, but the combination of the photography and music is steadily engaging in its own laid back way. 

Atmospherics aside, the real draw here is Swinton. Known for her ice queen roles, it's refreshing to see her take a break and play a lighter, fun-spirited character. A lover of literature, Eve's apartment is practically overflowing with books from across the centuries. She thrives on her immortality, while still feeling the pangs of mortality when they hit (her scenes with John Hurt's sickly vampire version of Christopher Marlowe are among the film's best). Whether trying to dance for Adam and drag him out of his funk, or mourning the loss of a loved one, Swinton is the film's clear standout. 

By contrast, Hiddleston is something of a disappointment. Though the role calls for brooding intensity, there doesn't really seem to be a lot going on behind his eyes. We get a better sense of him based on his interactions with Eve, rather than Hiddleston's own performance. Though the actor certainly has the look for the role (vampires tend to come from chiseled, high cheek-boned stock), his presence here is curiously (pardon the pun) bloodless. Supporting turns from Hurt, Yelchin, and Wasikowska punch up the film, but it's still a bit disappointing that only half of the central couple is genuinely compelling to watch. Yet Hiddleston's role is so often passive, that there's little he can do to hold the film back. If anything, his flat work gives more breathing room to the rest of the ensemble. 

Aside from Swinton's lovely work, the second best performer of the lot is Jarmusch in his roles as writer and director. Only Lovers Left Alive could have easily drifted into repetitive tediousness, but I found myself caught up in every jam session, blood drinking, and nighttime drive. The techniques used in the film, like the slow motion, are smartly used, and never outstay their welcome. 

The artistic and technical aspects are also first rate, making smart use of the modest budget. Le Saux works low key wonders with scenes shot entirely indoors or at night, highlighting the immaculately designed apartments that house the titular lovers. The art direction functions as a smart interpretation of the minds of the characters: Adam's apartment is dingy and cluttered, while Eve's is ancient and beautiful. The former is bored of immortality, while the latter is at peace with it, and thrives on it. Only Lovers Left Alive may not have a lot to say, but it does know how to say it well.

Grade: B/B+

Review: "The Deep Blue Sea"

Director: Terence Davies
Runtime: 98 minutes

Terence Davies' The Deep Blue Sea is a subtle and understated film, one that takes some of the subject matter present in Anna Karenina and renders it on a much smaller scale. Yet even though Davies' film earns points for its graceful maturity, it lacks both passion and insight. Though capably led by Rachel Weisz and Tom Hiddleston, Sea is merely an adequate relationship drama that, only on occaision, displays any remarkable feats of film making or acting.

Weisz is Hester Collyer, wife of a prominent judge named William (Simon Russel-Beale) in post-WWII London. She engages in an affair with a troubled RAF pilot named Freddie (Hiddleston), which inevitably sets off a series of struggles. Yet where Davies, who also adapted the screenplay from Terence Rattigan's play hits the nail on the head is in his pacing of the story. Hester and Freddie's affair is discovered quite early, and the film is more about the ramifications that ensue when Hester leaves her husband to live with Freddie. Like the stoic Karenin, William allows his wife to do as she pleases, without giving her the satisfaction of a divorce. Rather than convince her to come back, or act maliciously towards her, he simply bows out, leaving her to think on her alleged sins.

Yet all is not well between the semi-liberated lovers. Hester struggles with her guilt over what she's done to William. At times her love for Freddie sustains her. And other times, as indicated in the elegant opening sequence, it can't. Unfortunately, though Hester's struggle takes center stage, it is often less compelling than the lives of those around her. The subtlety is admirable, yet it gets in the way of the film's establishment of Hester and William's marriage, and why it doesn't provide the love Hester desires. At one point, Hester even confesses that physical love is all that matters to her, which does little to make her more sympathetic. The film never really follows up on this point either, thereby leaving an intriguing angle completely unexplored. 

Hiddleston's Freddie, much like William, gets the short end of the stick when it comes to depth. As such, Freddie's sudden bouts of anger are jarring and unconvincing. Freddie's involvement in the war is hazily sketched out, and the reasons for his inner turmoil barely touched upon. So even though the small moments between Freddie and Hester come off nicely, the film neglects the big picture angles, which eventually catches up with the piece on the whole.

As the film's center, Weisz gives a consistent turn, and thankfully avoids the awkward shifts of her work in The Bourne Legacy. Let at the same time, perhaps due somewhat to the writing, she never quite digs into Hester's issues beyond the obvious. Many moments that could have been subtle and laced with buried emotion instead give the impression that Weisz only got a millimeter beneath the character's skin, and then stopped cold. The performance is often adequate, yet Weisz never turns Hester's mix of emotional turmoil and British reserve into a compelling person to watch and follow. 

All in all, it's a shame, because Davies, at least as a director, deserves quite a bit of credit for his adaptation. The camera work flows elegantly, giving a sense of life to scenes that mostly involve people standing, sitting, and talking. There's also a lovely and delicately executed scene - a single shot - of Hester and William watching a group of singers in a tube station as German planes pound the city with bombs. It's a striking moment, yet unfortunately, it has nothing to support it. Much in the vein of Luca Guadagnino's I am Love, the reasons for the protagonist's affair feel too slight, and too thinly sketched out. Whereas Tilda Swinton's Eva at least had an army of snobby family members supposedly suffocating her, Hester only has William's elitist mother. She's a snob, yes, but the old woman is hardly capable of oppressing anyone, considering that William married Hester without too much trouble. 

Once again, the big picture issues hound the film. Without a truly compelling sense of either Hester or her motives, there's little to latch onto or ponder once the credits roll. The elegance and maturity of the execution is wholly commendable, and at the very least keeps the journey interesting, as Davies refuses to have people spell things out for the audience. Yet all the same, all of the elegant camera work and beautiful music can't cover up the film's omnipresent vagueness, which ultimately does it in. For a film titled The Deep Blue Sea, Davies' latest is sadly lacking in depth, and on multiple fronts.

Grade: C+

Review: "Thor"

It's not an easy thing to convincingly portray one of Norse mythology's most important figures. In spite of this obstacle, relative newcomer Chris Hemsworth does an admirable and thoroughly convincing job as the Marvel-ized version of the haughty God of Thunder. It's a good thing too, because he's one of the few aspects of Thor, the latest set-up film for 2012's The Avengers, that comes close to godliness.

Opening with prologue that feels straight out of The Lord of the Rings, Kenneth Branagh's adaptation sets up the film's multiverse efficiently. Years ago, the terrifying Frost Giants threatened to plunge Earth into an eternal ice age, only to be stopped by Odin (Anthony Hopkins) and his army of gods (demi gods? super beings?). Now, in the present, Odin's son Thor (Hemsworth), in an act of foolhardy bravery slyly suggested by his trickster brother Loki (Tom Hiddleston), has torn apart the centuries-old truce. When Odin learns of his son's actions, he strips Thor of his power (including the ability to wield his mighty hammer) and banishes him to Earth. It's here when he - quite literally - runs into a trio of scientists, played by Natalie Portman, Stellan Skarsgard, and Kat Dennings.

And it's here, in the Earth-bound section of the story, that everything that's best about Thor comes together, even if the end result feels a bit slight. Whereas the opening is filled with portentous shouting matches, the Earth scenes introduce a vital sense of humor that very clearly lets us know that Branagh and crew aren't taking the whole thing too seriously. Thor's fish-out-of-water angle is executed with surprisingly fun results, thanks in large part to Hemsworth's completely convincing portrayal of a god completely out of his element. Along with Tom Hiddleston as the scheming Loki, Hemsworth's work is what makes the film the lightweight fun that it is.

Other performances aren't quite so entertaining. Natalie Portman gives minimal effort as scientist Jane Foster, while Stellan Skarsgard and Kat Dennings make for charming, yet inconsistent comic relief. A handful of minor characters from Thor's realm are played with nice effort, but feel like afterthoughts. Action sequences are iffy as well. While they aren't incomprehensibly edited, Branagh shoots them in close-up, resulting in fights that are loud, but somewhat hard to decipher, and rarely engaging. Credit should go, however, to the marvelous (albeit campy) costume and set design; Thor's home realm of Asgard is rich and fully realized. Yet unlike, say, the first Iron Man, Thor never reaches a point where it completely immerses you in its mythos. Despite a good-hearted nature, and some charming, earnest work from its cast, the whole effort feels minor, rather than godly.

Grade: C+/C