Reviews

"Shame" is a film not about what the characters say, but what they do. Steve McQueen deftly directs Michael Fassbender in the best performance of 2011, creating a tapestry of heartless sex and violent emotional power - a film to be analyzed and talked about.

The sex scenes are raw and cold, aiming to disturb rather than arouse. What is perhaps most interesting about how McQueen handles the material is that a total lack of eroticism is replaced by sadness and pain; one particular scene featuring a three-way orgy between Fassbender's character, Brandon, almost brought me to tears. If I were to describe the sexually driven scenes in one word, it would be "pathetic." Of course, these moments wouldn't be anywhere as impactful without Michael Fassbender's intense and real performance.

His performance ranges from the most subtle, under-the-surface acting to all out explosive and gut-wrenching emotional displays. The sheer bravery of this actor astonishes me. The film features unabashed full frontal nudity (even close ups) in both sexual and non-sexual contexts, and one can imagine the dedication and trust a performer such as Fassbender must have to put his or herself in front the camera in such a vulnerable and unflinching manor.

While the film is about sexual addiction and the toll it takes on those who suffer from it, it is also about the broken, and often juvenile relationship between a brother and sister. Carey Mulligan delivers an equally complex and striking performance as Brandon's sister, Sissy, who desperately seeks to connect with her troubled kin. While Fassbender often withholds and swallows his emotions (with the occasional angry outburst), Mulligan plays a free-spirited and energetic personality, punctuated by inner suffering and need for attention; essentially, the two are exact opposites, and the scenes they share together are impossible to look away from.

McQueen, as with "Hunger", exercises one of my favorite filmmaking techniques: the extended take. Many scenes in the film are done with less than three cuts, forcing the viewer to watch the story unfold in seemingly real time. The music is also a highlight, adding an emotional crescendo to the film and performances, and in fact carrying the first ten minutes of the film. The cinematography is also gorgeous, balancing cold whites with warm golden atmosphere.

It's easy for me to call "Shame" one of the best films of the year, but it is certainly the most complicated and layered film of 2011, one I will probably watch many times. It's unfortunate that it has been stigmatized by its NC-17 rating, and therefore greatly limited to only a handful of theaters across the nation. Let me make this clear: there is nothing in this film grotesque or in bad taste or done for shock value - it is simply the truth of its subject matter brought to vivid life.

"Tell me, what do you think of the traffic problem? What do you think of the marriage problem? What do you think of at night when you go to bed, you beast?" While not their best film (which I still insist is "A Night at the Opera"), "Animal Crackers" is still a zany, no-holds-barred slice of laugh-a-second entertainment from the never dull Marx Brothers - a quasi-musical comedy with all the bells and whistles you'd expect from the siblings, featuring some very memorable moments. Here are a few of my favorite: The scene in which Groucho stands between the two women at the bottom of the staircase and diverges and digresses from an inexplicable monologue is outstanding, and one of his shining moments. The payoff is when the group of sexy women parade down the stairs where he declares that he's been waiting for years at the bottom of the steps for such an occasion.

Perhaps one of Harpo's best acts is the Bridge scene, where he and Chico sit down with two ladies for a game. His skill with props and his perfect timing has always astounded me ... he was, in my opinion, the hardest working Marx Brother. I also feel he does his best harp playing in this film.

Chico's highlight was, of course, his scene on the piano. Although the film does seem to take an awkward break here just to see him play, it's nonetheless a pleasure to enjoy his skill and the obvious delight he takes in showing it off.

Like all of their features, by the end of the story everyone around the brothers have been driven mad by their antics and nonsensical behavior, and you leave the film no deeper or enlightened than you were before, but simply with a big smile on your face.

"We belong dead!"

"Bride of Frankenstein" outdoes its predecessor in terms of thrills and style, and certainly delves deeper into the psyche of the monster - one of cinema's most tragic figures.

The film is expertly directed by horror-maestro James Whale, featuring richly atmospheric cinematography, bold camera movements, wonderfully Gothic art direction, and fantastic use of miniatures. Again, in terms of style the film is simply a feast for the eyes.

Karloff's acting, while less subtle than the previous film, is yet another powerful example of making a monster with minimal dialog something you feel for and even shed a tear over. You get a sense that the monster is more frustrated, more self-loathing than we was before, making his encounter with the bride all the more gut-wrenching, because like everyone else she rejects him because of what he is on the outside, something all humans can relate to. Karloff's best scene is with the blind man in the woods - a bittersweet moment because we know his happiness is misguided and will not last for long.

Of course, I couldn't write a review of "Bride of Frankenstein" without mentioning the bride herself, a horror movie icon despite only being on screen for about five minutes. Elsa Lanchester makes quite an impression in her brief screen time, creating the franchise's most unnerving character, with her twitching movements, screams, and hisses (I find her far more frightening than the monster, who is very sympathetic).

The film also adds more humor and camp, which, in my opinion, doesn't quite work as well, but it really doesn't hurt the film as a whole. Overall, it is a fantastic sequel that raises the stakes and succeeds most when it is not trying to thrill or frighten us, but simply wants our humanity.

Fritz Lang's "M" is a masterpiece of cinematography, direction, editing, and acting. The silent eeriness of the static shots, and the emotional intensity and energy of the raging crowds are both equally arresting. There are moments so tense that I can feel the sweat on my palms, and others, such as the murderer's plea for mercy, that challenge my personal moral biases and my concepts of justice.

The film does a great job of drawing the viewer in, snatching your attention from the opening frame and never letting go. It works on many levels: it's an enthralling murder mystery; a brave character study; and a sociological examination of the mob mentality and the way fear often drives us in directions we would not normally go. Perhaps even more interesting is that the film must have been bold or even controversial at the time, but even by today's standards, it addresses issues and challenges societal preconceptions that most films steer away from.

I had some major problems with the film. I understand it was supposed to be a loud, fun, kick'em-in-the-"rear"-n'-blow'em-up good 'ole time, but it was lacking two key elements: a decent script, and some kind of coherent camera-work/editing.

The story was uninteresting. The plot was sort of just strung together from one action scene to the next with interludes of "check-your-watch" macho dialogue nonsense. The jokes and one-liners mostly fell flat (for me, anyway); this was one of the most disappointing factors. If the zings and jabs had been pulled off properly, the film's overall quality would have spiked, but instead it just felt stale and lazy. Ultimately, I didn't care about Stallone or any of the other Expendables; I didn't care about the girl, or the general (and their barely existing subplot), or who was "effing" over who. So, despite all of the explosions and blood, I felt bored (especially in the agonizingly bland first Act, although it picked up in the middle and through the climax).

Shaky, poorly-lit frame + quick-cut editing = disorientation. This style of filmmaking needs to die. It's like the camera operator was just throwing the camera up and down all over the place and then the editor went at it like a 5-year-old trying to cut out a snowflake. It got to the point where I just didn't care what was happening on screen. If this style and 3D are the future of action cinema, then I might as well tear-up my Regal Crown Club membership card now.

In short: the film had two fatal flaws, but would have been very good if not for those major misteps. The best thing I can say about the film is that it was amazing to see all of those 80's action legends on screen at the same time (and to see Stallone and Lundgren at each other's throats again; it made me want to watch Rocky IV).

Sam Peckinpah's "The Wild Bunch" is more than just a western - it's a film about loyalty, trust, and knowing when to let go. The film follows a group of outlaws making their mark on the Texas/Mexican border, but greed, pride, and envy constantly put the bunch to the test. The film is violent, vulgar, and yet strangely heartfelt. Although, if it weren't for the strong performances, the film would fall flat as mere "shock" entertainment.

The leader of the gang, played excellently by William Holden, is an aging gunman past his prime, struggling to mount his horse and still remain in control of the group. Ernest Borgnine is his second-in-command and keeps Holden's character in check. The rest of the cast delivers solid performances as well, especially Jaime Sánchez as Angel, who picks up his own subplot and ultimately becomes the focal point of the story in a rousing climactic shootout.

This is not John Ford's Old West; it is filthy, cruel, and bloody. There is plenty of swearing, nudity, and gunshot-gore to please today's younger audiences. It's an exciting and enthralling viewing experience not often found in the westerns of old (save Sergio Leone's masterpieces), and certainly stands the test of time. Of course, what was controversial then is now common-place, but still a bit shocking in terms of the amount of squibs that must have been used.

This was my third attempt at watching the film, and I thoroughly enjoyed it this run. In the past, I never seemed to be able to get passed the 30-minute mark; perhaps I was too young. Overall, though, the Wild Bunch is an above average action film with many themes about friendship, the ghosts of our pasts, and the inevitable end of the line.

Francis Ford Coppola's "The Conversation" is a deceptively quiet little film with a lot more going on beneath the surface than may appear. It's a film about paranoia and distrust; about alienation and isolation and how all these things can have a huge impact on not only yourself but those around you -- a character study, if anything. It's also a masterful and taut suspense/thriller that demands the viewer's utmost attention.

Gene Hackman delivers one of his career's finest performances, playing introverted and extremely anal surveillance professional Harry Caul, as opposed to his often aggressive and no-nonsense roles. With very little dialogue, he manages to convey an array of tense emotions and thoughts, which easily transfer into the viewer. As Caul becomes more suspicious and uneasy so do we. It's a very effective film and one that slowly gets under your skin.

The music is another highlight of the film, employing a fantastic piano score blended with a snappy jazz soundtrack. It brings back the tone of old film noirs and detective mysteries. It's even more appropriate because the film is set in Jazz-heavy San Fransisco. Caul himself is even shown playing the saxaphone throughout the film.

The cinematography is also brilliant. Coppola uses long, static or slow-moving shots to build tension and suspense, as well as shots from far away. It's a great technique that works well here.

Overall, "The Conversation" is one of the best examples of both a strong character study and a gripping tale of lies, murder, and ethical dilemmas in all cinema. Coppola certainly did his finest work in the 1970s, churning out the first two "Godfather's", "The Conversation", and "Apocalpyse Now". Having seen "The Conversation", I can say it is equally as brilliant as all of those, but with a much more subtle, personal touch that makes it stand out from the rest.

I have heard many different opinions about Michael Hanake's "The White Ribbon." Some call it a work of art and a masterpiece, while others accuse it of being shallow and unsatisfying; I happen to agree with the first assessment.

The film is a true work of art with the most beautifully stunning black and white cinematography I've seen since "Schindler's List." The costumes and locations are amazing and Hanake's preference for long static shots always enhances the experience, bring his films to a level of artistic brilliance often shied away from by less talented (or daring) filmmakers. I also thought the story was extremely engaging and I found myself becoming more and more wrapped up in it as the film progressed. The performances are very strong and the moments of anger or violence are further intensified because of this. The children do an especially good job at conveying suppressed emotions and truths. I also can understand why some viewers found the ending to be unsatisfying as it leaves a lot open to interpretation, but for me this is always a plus, as I hate being spoon fed.

I haven't seen "El Secreto de Sus Ojos", but I can only assume it's also a work of genius as it beat "The White Ribbon" for the 2010 Best Foreign Film Oscar. Hopefully I'm right, otherwise this would be a travesty.

"Shame" is not your average wartime film. First of all, the war in Bergman's world is fictional, acting as a catalyst for the drama to unfold. Although we see soldiers and tanks and bombers, it is not a film about war itself, but about the toll war can take on the psyche. It is a psychological look at how the stress of war can bring out the worst in people and create great fear. However, the film focuses on a modest married couple, Eva and Jan, played brilliantly by Max von Sydow and Liv Ullman, and the shame shared by the two over Jan's shortcomings and cowardice, and, ultimately, his ruthlessness.

"Shame" has moments teetering on greatness, but never quite achieves that caliber. Its ideas and bravery are commendable, and I understand what Bergman was trying to convey, but the story itself is a bit disjointed and the film feels too short for such a mammoth concept as the psychological effects of war on civilians. Even though, as mentioned earlier, the details of the war itself are not critical to the story or theme, it would have been nice to learn more about the political atmosphere surrounding it. In fact, I think it would have been even better to have set it during a real war, such as World War I or II. Nonetheless, the film is very powerful and has a great ending monologue from Liv Ullman. It's certainly a must-see for any cinema lover.

Terrence Malick's "Days of Heaven" is a simply beautiful and majestic film to look at. It also has a fantastic story, strong performances, and wonderful, mysterious music. However, despite these positives, there is one glaring flaw, for me, that prevents the film from becoming something greater: the pacing. No, it wasn't too slow, quite the opposite. The story felt rushed, and the film ultimately felt episodic, as if it was some kind of abridged version of a longer film.

In under an hour, Bill kills the man, he, Abby and Linda go to work in the fields, work ends, she marries the farmer, and suspicions are raised. I would have much rather had seen the film run at least two hours, preferably two and a half or even three, rather than a brief 93 minutes. It lacked the slow, lingering pace of Malick's future films, and, therefore, I was unable to really connect to any of the characters. Fortunately, the story itself is so strong that I was never bored, just rushed. The characters and the audience never had time to breathe and absorb the story or savor the magnificent imagery. So, in this regard, I was a little disappointed.

Nonetheless, it is, once again, a great story with good performances and awesome cinematography; it definitely deserved its Oscar win. I just would have liked for it to have taken its time more.

Andrei Tarkovsky's "Andrei Rublev" is a cinematic work of genius and an artistic masterpiece. It unfolds with such poetry and such intense beauty and horror that it will likely stay with you forever. There is so much about the film that one could praise or babel on about, but few words can actually describe what an experience this film is, and how deeply it reaches you, the viewer.

The cinematography is amazing. Tarkovsky's use of slow motion, black and white, and long moving shots is astounding to say the least. The costumes and locations give the impression that the filmmakers went back in time to get their shots. The music is incredibly moving and haunting, adding another level of meaning and nuance to the film. Their are images and moments that are truly disturbing and others that are truly breathtaking in their beauty. This is not a "light" film; it fearlessly tackles many philosophical issues such as death and purpose of one's own life and the boundaries of faith and morality. It's an extremely complex journey that constantly provokes you to ponder your own life. The characters and their stories are very relatable, even if the film is set six hundred years ago.

"Andrei Rublev" is certainly a film like no other, and a challenging and powerful viewing experience. It's also a film that demands two maybe three re-watches, as I plan on doing myself. Perhaps what it does best is encapsulate the human condition; for this alone it's worth your time.