I wasn’t able to take notes while watching this, so this probably won’t be as detailed as some of my other posts. That’s probably just as well, since I don’t have a lot of positive things to say. In fact, let me get that positive thing out there right now—Tom Middleditch was the best actor of the bunch. And when the guy who does phone commercials is the Brando of the group…well, you’re in trouble.
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I knew nothing of this film before sitting down to watch it, but after a stark opening scene, with lighting-like flashes of a nighttime gunfight, followed by a horse, ablaze, galloping through the field like a living nightmare, I was hooked. Jacques Audiard’s film is a quirky tale that takes place in the Old West, USA. Charlie (Joaquin Phoenix) and Eli (John C. Reilly) are the Sisters Brothers. That is, two brothers with the last name of Sisters. They are assassins working at the behest of their “benefactor,” a man only known as “The Commodore.” They are both extremely good at their work but couldn’t be more different from one another at this point in their lives.
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In Clara’s Ghost, Chris Elliott’s family stars as…Chris Elliott’s family. Well, technically as the Reynolds family. Ted (Chris) is a once-famous actor, and his daughters Julie (Abby Elliott) and Riley (writer/director Bridey Elliott) are former children’s show stars (think Olsen twins). The non-actor matriarch of the Elliott clan, Paula Niedert Elliott, plays the titular character Clara, who is also the only one in the Reynolds who doesn’t work in the industry. And something is a little off with Clara. She rips up family photos that don’t seem as happy as the ones on facebook. She calls a winery in the middle of the night to compliment them on the look of their team. And she keeps seeing a ghost, a pale brunette in a flowing white dress, who no one else can see. The ghost may or may not be Adelia, the daughter of the former owner of the house, who was committed as a young woman, if the clippings in Clara’s office are to be believed.
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This film makes me really miss Debbie Reynolds. Damien Chazelle (Whiplash) functions here like Tarantino—patching together scenes and nods to the great films of the genre, hoping that those who aren’t familiar with them will find them fresh and charming, and those who are familiar will revel in the nostalgia. Unfortunately, it ends up feeling like a pastiche of clichés. I found it to be nearly devoid of charm, with the exception of two numbers—the couple’s first dance together, and Stone’s audition song. Continue reading
Unfortunately, the best performance by an actress in a motion picture this year probably won’t get the Academy Award. It probably won’t be nominated, even. Hell, you likely won’t even see it, unless you take my advice and seek out Rebecca Hall’s performance as tragic news reporter Christine Chubbuck in 2016’s Christine. The film itself is well made, if low-budget, but what elevates it above the crowd is Hall. She is magnificent, giving as strong a portrayal of depression as I’ve seen, in that it doesn’t play into convenient scenes and stereotypes; the illness insinuates itself into every scene, every aspect of her life, from dealing with her mother, whom she lives with, to obsessively analyzing a video of herself, and wondering if she nods too much. Even her gait makes her seem that she’s uncomfortable in her own skin. It’s a heartbreaking portrayal, and often difficult to watch. Continue reading
I guess I should start by saying that I didn’t care for the novel the film is based on. But it’s still a damn sight better than the film. The internal monologues present in the book at least give some measure of breath (and breadth) to the lives of these characters. Those who have read it will, no doubt, recognize the wisps of backstory left intact that made the novel readable, if somewhat predictable. They also should be able to follow the convoluted plot a lot better. The compression from novel to screenplay didn’t do this story any favors. Continue reading
When is a “talkie” not a “talkie”? When it’s done completely in Ukrainian Sign Language. And I mean completely. No talking. No translation. No subtitles. On the one hand, it feels like a gimmick, and keeps the audience from getting to know much about these characters, but on the other it forces us to become a much more active audience. Even paying attention, though, you’re still not going to get everything. Continue reading
So I’ve been trying to work my way through all of the “brand name” films, trying to put together my end of the year list, and I thought I’d take a break and slide this film in as a sort of “palate cleanser” with no hope of it being anything more than that. Wow, was I wrong. This might be one of my favorite film experiences this year. It’s no secret that I have a soft spot for films from Down Under, and although this one might benefit from my bias, I feel comfortable recommending it to anyone. It’s not a film filled, like so many others this year, with heroic action sequences, stylistic camerawork, witty dialogue, or over-the-top violence. It’s a film about believable, real characters dealing with an, unfortunately, all-to-real situation. And I can tell you, as I sit here writing this with a tear still on my cheek and a smile on my face, it will make you care about these people. Continue reading
I’m not sure how to describe this film, except maybe to say imagine if Logan’s Run was written by Woody Allen and directed by Terry Gilliam (or maybe Wes Anderson). Colin Farrell, who I normally don’t think much of, gives a nice, understated performance here as David, a newly-single man from a mildly Orwellian future, who is shipped off to stay at a hotel (Room 101!) where denizens are all single, and must find a mate within 45 days or be turned into an animal of their choosing (in David’s case, a lobster) and released into the forest. He’s got nerdy glasses and a paunch, and (perhaps because he’s relying less on his looks) I don’t think I’ve seen him better. Continue reading
I’m not a big fan of Leo’s. Maybe I’ve just chosen the wrong titles, but I’ve never thought he had the range for many of the roles he plays. He always seems so one-note. He’s good here, but once again, it’s one note: angry. To be fair, he has to make do with very little dialogue, about half of it in the Pawnee dialect, which he uses to converse with Hawk, his son by a Pawnee woman. And he has plenty of reason to be angry. Continue reading
Who Cares What You Think? 