Reviews

thefilmsmith.com

If you're a film critic aiming to be taken seriously you draw up reviews of awesome little-known films like Night of the Hunter and level sniper shots at the latest Transfomers flick. Anything heavily marketed to mass audiences is normally regarded as terrible before official screenings begin, and that sentiment isn't without its reasons. But even the most erudite critic has a guilty pleasure, and mine happens to be any film that tries to do as much real special effect work as possible before going to the computer, which is what made me curious about Fast Five.

Paul Walker and Vin Diesel return to the franchise that launched their careers, this time hiding in Rio de Janeiro when a 100 million dollar heist presents itself.

Despite featuring characters who are notable only for their attractiveness and angry faces, this 2 hour heist film manages to milk some character development. Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson hams it up nicely as the DEA agent chasing Vin Diesel and Paul Walker, and Walker is mercifully not given many lines. Instead, director Justin Lin introduces the characters with an impressive train heist and incorporates quieter moments that don't clash with the rest of the film.

The actual heist sequence illustrated in the film's trailer is what intrigued me, but within the film it's delivered with mixed results. A scrapyard somewhere made a killing off the film, with plenty of vehicles getting mashed, crashed, and thrashed with nary a digital effect interrupting the fiasco (at least blatantly; it definitely played a supporting role). Kudos. After a while though, the auto body kill count becomes numbing and never manages to deliver a cherry on top of this metal mash-up sundae (think the truck flip from The Dark Knight).

Despite being the fifth sequel in a car racing franchise that still bears of the scars of its adolescence, it isn't a bad action film. Sure, the film has some bad moments (it still retains its awkward homoerotic tension between angry ogre men), but overall it's bearable.

If you're interested in the film's special effects, it might be worth your time. Other than that, I'm not sure why else someone would want to see it. Vin Diesel's shiny head? -Remington Smith

thefilmsmith.com

Film adaptations of historical events face several difficulties, including issues of historical accuracy and the audience's awareness of how it all ends (Titanic). Robert Redford's latest film Conspirator approaches these pitfalls by producing the tale under The American Film Company, which aims to produce historically accurate films. Further, Conspirator tells the story of Lincoln's assassination from an angle with which few are familiar.

Conspirator revolves around the military tribunal of Mary Surratt (Robin Wright), a woman whose boarders happen to include John Wilkes Booth and her son John Surratt, who is implicated in the conspiracy to assassinate President Lincoln. With the authorities unable to locate John, Mary is put on trial in his place. Frederick Aiken (James McAvoy), a lawyer and former Union Soldier, must defend this Confederate sympathizer in the face of pressure from the Secretary of War to swiftly convict Surratt, whose death sentence is intended to deter any further action from Confederates that might break the post-Civil War peace.

This historical trial drama runs on two fuels: a mature, varied cast and a fresh story. James McAvoy as Mrs. Surratt's attorney achieves a conflicted dignity as a man who respects the law, but endures an internal tug-of-war after his time fighting Confederates as a Union soldier. Surratt herself is in a similarly conflicted position, in which her freedom rests on the conviction of her son. Robin Wright has come a long way from the useless damsel in The Princess Bride, and her adept portrayal of the weight of motherhood is an excellent parallel to Aiken's mixed allegiances to law and country. And finally, with Surratt's historical fate unknown to most viewers, Conspirator leaves the crowd anticipating her freedom or destruction with rapt attention.

Conspirator does contain allusions to justice in the post-9/11 U.S. landscape, as Mary Surratt finds herself in situations bearing similarities to the present: Gitmo, suspension of habeas corpus, even the evolving trial of alleged 9/11 hijacker Khalid Sheikh Mohammed. As in the film where Mary Surratt is denied a trial of her peers and placed in front of a military tribunal, Khalid will now face a military tribunal in contrast to President Obama's previous calls for a civilian court proceeding.

Fortunately, these elements are not delivered in the overbearing, rub-it-in-your-face style of other films. If Robert Redford and writer James D. Solomon are to be believed, Conspirator has been in the works since the early 90's, making such allusions more timely than intentional political commentary.

Which illustrates the enduring power of yearning for justice. Whether in the present or the past, U.S. citizens have expected their government to conduct itself in the manner outlined in its inception. Deviation from that is enough to agitate anyone.

Conspirator demonstrates that having conditional civil rights is like conditional abstinence. Honoring such values only when it's easy doesn't honor them at all.

A competent historical trial drama, Conspirator should satisfy history nerds and general audiences alike.

-Remington Smith

thefilmsmith.com

Once upon a time in the snowy forests of Finland, there was a girl named Hanna who knew only her father, his training, and their simple cottage. When she came of age, Hanna decided it was time for her to see the outside world. Hanna sees Morocco, makes her first friend, and packs the morgue with baddie bodies.

Hanna's coming-of-age concoction of violence and innocence (via sad broken playgrounds and killers whistling kid tunes) is sure to make it an instant classic, next to Leon:The Professional and Unleashed (aka, Danny the Dog). The screenplay by Seth Lochhead and David Farr is a three course meal, serving amusing appetizers, delivering a dramatic duck (with slice of lemon), and action à la mode.

The fight sequences, though at times confusingly close, recall the first Bourne film (sans the shaky cam). One scuffle in particular will have you holding your breath, as it uses the long take to build tension rather than just to show off Hanna director Joe Wright did in previous film, Atonement.

Such methods speak to Wright's maturation as a director. During the opening sequences he utilizes dynamic shot composition with fluid movements to introduce the audience to the relationship between Hanna and her father; yet he can appropriately shift into faster cuts and stylistic flourish when chases ensue.

But these action pieces don't stand alone by the choices of the director and editor, as they're invigoratingly guided by the pumping themes of The Chemical Brothers. The duo lights the fuse and runs, letting their beats and the on screen beatings marry into a pulsating crescendo that will get your blood moving.

If it weren't for the development of Hanna as a real girl and not just a killing machine, Hanna would quickly fade into obscurity once the ad team walks away. But by showing Hanna's introduction to the real world (not telling it) and having Saoirse Ronan to play the lost child, Hanna ensures there won't be an apathetic audience. Supported by Eric Bana as Hanna's father and Cate Blanchett as the enigmatic menace Marissa Wiegler, the whole film takes off.

It comes in for an unsteady landing in the final act, but considering the rest of the film's accomplishments it's completely forgivable. Along with 2010′s crop of films with awesome female characters (Winter's Bone, Kick-Ass, Fish Tank), Hanna belongs on a watch list for all gals coming into womanhood as well as general action audiences.* We go to the cinema to see something fresh, moving, and amazing. From the stunts, to Hanna's journey, to the little quirks of the characters, this is how action/drama cinema is done, folks. See it while you can because the characteristically lazy Summer Blockbusters are just around the corner

-Remington Smith

*And don't worry gents, the film didn't alienate this male viewer. Boys have The Goonies, The Sandlot, and The Monster Squad. It's about time girls get some badasses on their side.

thefilmsmith.com

The last time you saw Nick Frost and Simon Pegg together they were in Hot Fuzz, diving through the air firing two guns at the same time screaming "Ahhh!" Four years later, Frost and Pegg have written and starred in a hilarious ode to all things sci-fi in Paul.

Graeme Willy (Pegg) and Clive Gollings (Frost) are two British sci-fi nerds who visit the U.S. to attend the San Diego Comic Con and visit notorious UFO landmarks in the Southwest. Hijinks ensue when the two pick-up a rude extra-terrestrial named Paul.

If you are at all a fan of Shaun of the Dead or Hot Fuzz, you're going to love Paul. In the same ways that Shaun and Fuzz were love letters to the genres they were skewering (zombie films and buddy cop films respectively) Paul is an ode to the sci-fi monoliths of the last sixty years. From the original Star Trek to the recent Battlestar Galactica, references and nerd banter concerning the X-Files and Predator is all over the place. Even if you haven't seen the seminal sci-fi films (Close Encounters, Star Wars, Aliens), the creative deluge of swearing from the charming Paul (voiced by Seth Rogen) will keep you cackling.

Who, by the way, looks freakin' amazing. In stills, the CGI character Paul looks clearly fake, but during the actual film he's remarkably realistic. Gollum, though a well developed character who allowed us to look past his digital mask, never looked like he was real during the entire Lord of the Rings trilogy; the giveaway being his bright complexion, which contrasted with his surroundings. In other words, the lighting of the natural environment did not match the character. Throughout most of Paul, however, they have somehow made a leap in syncing the lighting with environment and digital character. The character Paul looked more photorealistic than anything in Avatar.

This is also the first film featuring Nick Frost and Simon Pegg that doesn't include Edgar Wright as the film's director and co-writer. Compared to Shaun and Fuzz, you can see how Wright's kinetic sensibilities add the key ingredient to the comedy concoction. Directed by Greg Mottola (Superbad), Paul has the pacing of an awkward first date; coupled with his demure shot placement, the directing can't keep up with the hijinks on screen – it only holds it back.

Though Paul has some directorial flaws and even some forced lines, there's too much to love about the film. It's a hilarious, crass comedy which will reward sci-fi nerds with regular references (some less obvious than others). It's also a veritable smorgosborg of comedic notables (though you may react with, "Oh, that guy!"), featuring Jane Lynch, Jason Bateman, Bill Hader, Kristen Wiig, David Koechner, and Jeffrey Tambor.

We're all dying to see the next Edgar Wright, Simon Pegg, Nick Frost film, but for now, at least they have left us some appetizers till they get back together. If you haven't seen Scott Pilgrim vs the World, do it (read my review here), and go see Paul when it comes out March 18.

-Remington Smith PS It is amusing that when Frost, Pegg, and Wright can't get together to shoot their final film in the Blood and Ice Cream Trilogy that they make separate, complimentary pictures on different niche nerd cultures: Scott Pilgrim vs the World, a love letter to video game culture; Paul, a love letter to all things sci-fi.

thefilmsmith.com

Enter the Void's director Gaspar Noé is most famous for his previous film, Irreversible. Its notoriety isn't due to a compelling narrative, but rather the brutal 10-minute long rape scene. With Enter the Void, Noé is hellbent on retaining his infamy in a 161 minute long* trek through time and Tokyo.

The main character Oscar is a white guy (the film doesn't detail his nationality) living in Tokyo, who finds himself dealing drugs to re-unite with his sister Linda. When a deal goes sour, Oscar finds himself in a strange place.

I've kept my synopsis brief in order to leave some narrative surprises, but the real point of discussion for Enter the Void is the way the story is told. The film shifts through three points-of-view: either an extreme first person POV in which we are literally behind Oscar's blinking eyelids as he speaks with Linda or his long-haired friend Alex; third person POV in which we are anchored behind an outline of Oscar's head as he experiences various memories; or aerial POVs, in which we zip around Tokyo, through walls and buildings to witness different scenes.

The shots never depart from these three templates, and even more audacious is the film's lack of a single cut. Sure, there is enough computer generated wizardry going on to allow ends to each shot; Russian Ark it ain't. But the transitions between scenes and the CGI that link them create the effect of one long take from beginning to finish.

Which is one of the many formalistic ways that the film crafts a D-Day assault on the senses. The one take, the bright strobe-light interludes between scenes (used masterfully for the opening credits), the darkness of Tokyo in the middle of the night as we witness the depressing ways in which people react to the film's tragedy. It's like a perverted version of It's a Wonderful Life, in which you see the carelessness of your actions come to bloom. The sordid lives of the Tokyo denizens, both lit and hidden by the neon lights, create a numbing sadness for humanity. If Terrence Malick's upcoming film Tree of Life is being touted as a "Love letter to God," Enter the Void is surely a love letter from the Devil to humanity – it's obvious he's having a ball with us.

Neither Darren Aronofsky nor Gaspar Noé is known for subtlety. The blatant Freudian imagery from Black Swan, or the aforementioned rape scene in Irreversible, show that these guys don't play coy. To Aronofsky's credit though, there is always a thematic payoff to his disturbing displays. Filled with redemption, hope, or sometimes even despair, Aronofsky's endings justify the painful journey.

That's not the case with Noé's work in Enter the Void. It isn't that I am against sex or violence in cinema – I'm against ridiculous amounts of either that don't serve the film's purpose. At the screening I attended of Enter the Void I could hear an audible groan as the audience anticipated the second foray into the extreme first-person POV of a man having sex with a woman. The first time, you're trying to do something different. A second time, you're making the audience feel a little weird. But a shot in which we see a CGI penis from inside the vagina? The audience bursts into laughter at the film's gratuitousness. Not to mention the number of times we witness a horrendous car accident, which by the third time now features a screaming child and disfigured bodies. It's not enough for Noé to show you something, he has to rub your nose in it. Either he loves such excesses or he enjoys the discomfort he's eliciting from his audience; masochist or sadist. Even with motivational assessments suspended, Noe's style undermines his narrative goals.

Ultimately the film appears to state that there is nothing truly sublime in this world (save for our moment as infants breastfeeding) and the best we can do is consume the artificial sweeteners of modern living (drugs and sex) to satiate our desires for Valhalla.

From what I've stated, it's evident that this isn't a film for casual film fans. Yes, its formalist feats are quite an experience. Now that the mental and physical novocaine numbness I had after watching the film has worn off, I'm glad I've seen it; I may never see another film like Enter the Void in my lifetime. Seeing it projected on 35mm in a dark room with a booming sound system was an experience of sensory overload that cannot be replicated at home . Even the way in which the film comes back around to the opening discussion of the Tibetan Book of the Dead shows evidence of foresight and an intriguing assessment of life and death (Russ Fischer on the /Filmcast called it a "movie about heaven for atheists.").

However, trying heroin is also probably "an experience"–but not something you'd recommend. Enter the Void at your own risk.

-Remington Smith

*The current version of the film available on Netflix instant streaming is 142 minutes long, as opposed to the 161 minute long international cut only available in some cinemas.

thefilmsmith.com

Fictions play a foundational role in our society. We encounter many of these fictions as images that feel bigger than we are, juggernauts projected onto the world we inhabit: social constructions of monetary value or race, or images on television considered synonymous with reality. In Marwencol we see the process from the other end as we follow a man who chooses and controls his fictions, projecting his real-life traumas onto a 1/6 scale world as alternative therapy.

On April 8, 2000 Mark Hogancamp had his memories literally beaten out of his head by five guys outside a New York bar; the film follows his life in the aftermath of the attack. After being kicked out of the hospital (he can't afford to stay), Mark seeks out an artistic outlet to continue his therapy. The nerve damage from the attack makes his hands too shaky to continue drawing, so the local hobby shop turns him to miniatures. Mark quickly becomes absorbed in his new hobby and creates a whole town called Marwencol, populated by World War II figurines. Painting minute details helps steady his hands, and the scenarios he creates between the dolls exorcise vengeful thoughts and allay loneliness. When Mark's photographs of Marwencol catches the eye of an art publication, an upcoming gallery exhibition of these photos becomes his newest challenge.

Mark's confessions about himself and his uses of Marwencol make the film uncomfortably intimate, but with touches of disarming charm. You'll wince as he hugs a doll based on a girl he has a crush on, and be horrified at the violence his characters enact upon the SS soldiers who torture his personal wax avatar (a stand-in for the attack he experienced). Mark blithely confesses to enjoying the power of manipulation in Marwencol, but he's so childlike in his earnestness that it's hard to feel truly threatened. Contextualized by the physical and mental trauma of his attack (PTSD is quite evident), the film allows you to sympathize with Mark, not treat him like a sideshow freak.

Which is a strong credit to director Jeff Malmberg. For someone so shy, Mark opens up without reserve to the audience; this seems evidence of his trust in the filmmaker, who spent four years shooting the documentary. It's obvious that Malmberg didn't shoot the film on 35mm, as Marwencol doesn't display the visual slickness of major studio films, but the DVCam look fits with the film's personal narrative and allows Mark's quality photographs to truly pop.

And let us not forget about Mark's world. Marwencol is amazingly detailed, to the point that at times I didn't know if I was seeing a shot of a bar in real life or the one in Marwencol – "Hogancamp's Ruined Stocking Catfight Club " (don't worry, all the catfights are staged). Given Mark's attention to detail and his skills as a photographer, it's no wonder art galleries come calling. Though Mark verbally details dealing with the beating, it's through his images of Marwencol that we get a visual understanding of his loneliness and anger.

The film does seem to throw a curve ball in the last half hour to drag out its runtime, but the film is enthralling, if for nothing else the continuous discovery of Marwencol and its story lines. Despite Mark's position as a strange, but nice guy almost beaten to death in 2000, he's not a victim – and that might the film's greatest triumph.

Fascinating, captivating, funny, you've got to see this.

-Remington Smith PS This American Life (the TV show) did a segment a while back that featured Mark and Marwencol. Since Marwencol is in limited release, you can check out that episode of This American Life on Netflix instant streaming (Season 2, Episode 3, "Going Down in History").

thefilmsmith.com

Romance in cinema is usually confined to two distinct categories: Either two people learn to love each other (consummated by a kiss or marriage) or they learn to leave each other for someone else. Other than the uneasy ending to The Graduate, there are few films willing to follow a couple beyond their climactic decision to get together/leave. Blue Valentine plays with each romantic format, but its uncomfortable window into a marriage imploding will make you want to call the cops for the couple's mutual safety.

Cicadas rattle in the Pennsylvania morning as young Frankie tries to find her escaped dog. She goes inside and pounces on her dozing father Dean, an unkempt man capped with a receding hairline and a smoking habit. He wakes up and tries to find the dog before sitting down to have a breakfast prepared by mommy Cindy. When Frankie turns her nose at the hard oatmeal, Dean echoes the critiques of Cindy, and encourages his daughter to at least eat the raisins straight from the table. "Let's eat like leopards," he suggests as the two slurp up the dried fruit, much to Cindy's chagrin. Frankie calls out to Dean as Cindy scoops her up, "Daddy you got me in trouble!"

From this small scene we understand we are bearing witness to a couple at odds, and it only gets worse as the film goes along: from Dean (Ryan Gosling) telling his wife, "I told you to keep the f*cking gate shut," after the dog's escape, to Cindy's (Michelle Williams) frequent denials of affection. They're slinging arrows at each other and they couldn't care less where they land.

All of which is intercut with how the couple first met, juxtaposing the love that has since slipped away. Director Derek Cianfrance brilliantly blends these realities with clever match cuts, showcasing how the pair unknowingly falls in love just as easily as they can fall out of it. Cianfrance's obsessive adherence to close-ups during the Present sequences stylistically underscores the stifling nature of the relationship compared to the wider, more open air of shots in the lovely Past.*

Ryan Gosling and Michelle Williams are at their most vulnerable, appearing emotionally and physically naked in the performance of their lives. Cindy's face is the foggy window into her soul and whether falling for Dean in the past or loathing him in the present, Williams' delicate gestures scream what's lurking beneath her mask. Gosling too is especially powerful as he alternates between bastard and charmer, yet the love for his family (especially Frankie)undoubtable. The result is one of the most genuinely heart wrenching films in the last ten years.

It's difficult for filmmakers to tap into the sincere dysfunction of parents on the rocks without poeticizing the debacle; though there are poetic elements to the shots and visual look provided by cinematographer Andrij Parekh, at the forefront of the film is the storm of the century for this couple. Cindy passively acquiescing to Dean's sexual advances is one of the saddest moments in cinema history (and becomes all the more nuanced when Dean stops, realizing what she's doing) and when Dean fights to hold on to his family you'll be hard pressed not to be crying along with him.

Despite my praise, the film is not perfect. It is billed as a relationship on the wane, but due to issues of perspective it seems more a film about Dean falling in love with a girl and then realizing she's done with him. What's left is an uncomfortable gender politics in which Cindy is left holding the bag for the crumbling relationship (essay to come).

Blue Valentine might better known for its scandal involving the MPAA's initial rating (NC-17)**, but there's so much more to the film and it's not pretty. Much like anything by Darren Aronofsky, however, the pain is worth bearing for the overwhelming intensity of its truth.

-Remington Smith

*Past sequences were also shot on film (bringing warmer, romantic textures) in single takes (no do-overs), while the Present was shot in sterile digital and with up to 50 takes to bring out the combative frustration from the two.

**There's nothing to merit such a rating, which is why the film won an appeal for its current R rating.

thefilmsmith.com

This has been described as super slow and supremely boring, but I was pleasantly startled by the quality of this film. The film is quiet and denies the impulse to turn it into a Bourne Identity thriller, but that's what makes it so intriguing. The enigmatic machinist/gun builder/assassin? that George Clooney portrays is fascinating for what's seen and not said.

By stripping away pounds of dialogue and the studio format of needing conflict to occur on specific page numbers (it exists), the simple story will leave you pondering for days. Nothing is overblown in this film, from the sound design of popping gunshots to long takes of a picnic in the Italian countryside. In other words, it breathes. It isn't hiding behind quick cuts and regular action pieces. If you're expecting a fast paced action thriller, of course it will disappoint. But if you're looking for a meditative tale about an intriguing character, this is understated filmmaking at its best. A picture is worth a thousand words and The American is a novel.

thefilmsmith.com

It seems as quickly as Will Ferrell hit it big, he was already on his way down. From Land of the Lost to Blades of Glory, Ferrell has worn out his welcome with many people due mainly to meeting a saturation point. Which is why it would be a shame if people missed The Other Guys, one of the best comedies of 2010.

The first act of the film features an over the top car chase with Samuel L. Jackson and Dwayne Johnson in pursuit of some petty criminals. The scene is a thing to behold, but the comedic punch arrives when reporters ask the two supercops if the 15 million dollars in damages was worth the misdemeanor offenses by the criminals. This lets you know immediately that this is going to be a cop satire equal to Hot Fuzz.

The film could stand to lose 30 minutes worth of fluff, but it subverts the traditional cop film (drugs, prostitutes, blue collar crime) to focus on white collar crime as the U.S. reels from the economic collapse wrought by such characters. It's a scathing critique of cop films, highlighting the lack of independent power in the SEC (which is supposed to prevent the types of crimes that plunged the U.S. into its worst recession since The Great Depression), and the way our judicial system allows white collar crime to fade into unimportance. Hilarious (directed by Anchorman director Adam McKay) and scathing in its critique. You have to see this film.

thefilmsmith.com

Storytelling relies on conflict and the yearning for resolution, which means that family centered tales are usually brimming with strife. Another Year, then, is all the more interesting. It centers around Tom and Gerri, a cozy happily married couple who take in their alcoholic friend Mary like a stray, emotionally unstable dog.

Structured by the four seasons, the films showcases the comfortable companionship between Gerri (Ruth Sheen) and Tom (Jim Broadbent), the emotional anchor for the film. Gerri's friend Mary (Lesley Manville) visits during each of the four acts. Mary's twitchy mouse energy is relentless, and moments of losing her verbal momentum (or drinking momentum for that matter) only allows the cold, sad loneliness to crack her open before her friends. A woman who looks to be in her 50′s (Manville herself was born in '56), Mary is smitten with Tom and Gerri's 30-year-old son Joe, which leads to awkwardness and calamity when Joe brings his new girlfriend to meet the parents.

All of which makes it sound like a bloated drama, but the dialogue is rapid fire hilarity, with occasional shots fired across the bow (and over the head) of characters in a way that will make you want to shout, "Oh snap!" Such wordsmith wizardry is what British films are known for and Another Year is another fine example of the country's comedic sensibilities.

But like Judd Apatow and even arguably Kevin Smith, Leigh uses the outlandish comedy aspects to lead the film to sublimely affective moments; he's not merely mining for cheap chuckles.

When the laughter fades away into silence, Leigh's selective use of close-ups is classic magician misdirection: You're focusing so much on the dialogue that when people shut up, quiet glances and beats of silence ring out like gunfire.

Despite the fact that Gerri and Tom provide the film's foundation, Lesley Manville as the frazzled Mary is one of the standout performances of 2010. An interesting counterpoint to Poppy from Mike Leigh's Happy-Go-Lucky (who was always loving, quiet, and together), Manville channels this outlandish character with sad sincerity that in lesser hands would have been overbearingly annoying and caricature. Instead, you can see the emotional fireworks exploding just beneath her skin. Gold star sticker for you, Ms. Manville.

Another Year is a fantastic comedy whose conclusion descends like the door of a coffin, which, in its open, yet final shot is one of the ballsiest moves of recent memory. Manville's performance alone is something to behold and is deserving of your attention. Romantic comedy never looked so good.