Month: July 2014

It’s hard not to wonder how throughout his career Philip Seymour Hoffman’s gearing up for roles like John le Carre’s Gunther Bachmann may have fed his demons. In his last starring role before his untimely death from a drug overdose earlier this year, Hoffman’s character, a German intelligence agent specializing in defusing potential terrorist operations, takes some getting used to. The brooding, heavy drinking, chain-smoking operative speaks softly and carries a big reputation. Yielding a German accent that seems otherworldly at first, he seems to be in a constant battle of fighting himself before he tackles the everyday task of neutralizing the civilized world’s most dangerous enemies.

Hoffman’s Bachmann immediately strikes one as a man who operates quite removed from the status quo in a world that we initially assume rewards outside the box strategies and procedures. CIA agent Robin Wright (almost unrecognizable in jet dark hair) knows Bachmann as a man who despite a troubled past, is extremely effective at what he does. Yet, this is a spy world that is increasingly dependent on cooperation between various geopolitical international agencies. These very agencies view Bachmann’s penchant to act solo and independent of such constraints as his deficiency….

…The viewer knows otherwise. As we watch Hoffmann in action his method of not sharing his plans and information makes perfect sense. In Hamburg 2008 the stakes couldn’t be higher. A city with the black eye of unwittingly having harbored 9/11 terrorists while they planned their attack, is obsessed with history not repeating itself. Bachmann epitomizes the wisdom of keeping a cool head amidst the frenzy. It’s beautiful to watch him in meetings with the other spies. Always the least excitable guy in the room, he nonetheless commands the most gravitas.

Le Carre fare is often cited for being cool, distant, more cerebral than his spy novelist counterparts. True, true, and true. Yet I view his unrattled intellectual approach, when pulled off as nicely as it is in A Most Wanted Man, as ultimately preferable to more showy, razzle dazzle approaches to the genre. As for the sizable minority of observers who have viewed this film as “too slow?” Even if you were to find that to be true (I certainly didn’t), this movie is worth your time simply due to an unforeseen ending that is one of the most absolutely sizzling finales in recent memory.

Hoffman Leaves Us With A Sterling Final Lead Performance….4 (out of 5 stars)

Like Seinfeld, Boyhood is about nothing in particular. Yet its staggering charm is that it manages to be about the things that matter most. The Richard Linklater film accomplishes no small miracle in reflecting a slice of life that, as it stretches over 12 years, boasts an authentic take on existence itself. It is unique in that it plays with time and growth in a way that forces the viewer to get immersed in its series of singular moments of the present.

The feat? Take four actors, including a six-year-old boy and have them reassemble for a few days of filming every year. Watch them transform–obviously physically, but most importantly as characters and personalities. Of course in order for this to work it requires a crazy good script–no problem for the enormously talented Linklater, whose brilliant “Before” trilogy began exploring the concept of time as a fellow character in its films. Nine years apart, these films explored a relationship’s evolution. Boyhood raises the stakes by doing a similar thing in one film. Then it further heightens the drama by concentrating on the time of life when change is most striking and often painful.

As we follow Mason (Elgar Coltrane) from first grade until he goes off to college we feel we’re in his shoes experiencing massive transitions disguised as everyday vignettes. Luckily there are no forced, grandiose plot developments to add unnecessary Hollywood heft to the proceedings. Instead the details are presented spot-on, the little things flawlessly and understatedly presented. We’re also spared title cards or any narration. Typically, a nicely done edit is followed by a new scene where we just see Mason a bit older. The changes build incrementally to dramatic results. Michael Apted’s 7 Up documentary series that started with 7 Up and then went on to track a disparate group of people every seven years from age seven to 56 is in many ways a forerunner of Linklater’s challenging concept. Yet Boyhood makes the case that fiction when it is this fully realized can be even more compelling than fact.

Mason’s development is deftly framed by the development of his family members. A fine Patricia Arquette plays his mom, Olivia, a woman earnest, loving and hardworking yet also plagued with feelings of inadequacy and self doubt as she goes from one unworkable relationship to another. Linklater regular Ethan Hawke does a real nice job portraying Mason’s looser, more fun loving divorced dad–a man who becomes far more serious as the film develops. Linklater’s daughter Lorelei, as Mason’s sister, experiences a rather drastic character change of her own. A spark plug in the film’s early stages, she turns increasingly taciturn as she gets older. It seems no accident Linklater diminishes her screen time as the film proceeds.

Similar to Linklater’s uniquely part-narrative/part-documentary 2011 film, Bernie, the director’s native Texas also plays a key role in Boyhood. Scenes take place in Houston and Austin, capturing the state’s paradoxes. Mason receives from his grandfather a dual birthday gift of a Bible and a shotgun. He flows with it, learning to shoot the shotgun to please gramps.

A sadness lingers over the totality of the experience of Boyhood: life is ephemeral; youth evaporates; disappointments mount. Yet there is a similarity with the way Linklater ends things here to the last scene in Before Midnight where Ethan Hawke and Julie Delpy, after intense fighting, reconcile not cheerily but calmly open-minded about the future. At the conclusion of Boyhood our hero, after an odyssey filled with unexpected and harrowing turns, seems to be looking forward to life’s next phase equally even-handedly but with a decidedly optimistic shading.

5 Delightful Once-A-Years For 12 Years…..5 (out of 5 stars)

You can make the same movie twice if you’re Woody Allen, or, of course, Michael Haneke. Less famous directors know the risk going in, yet John Carney stuck to his guns in putting forth essentially a bigger-budget, A-list version of his similarly themed, very good 2007 film, Once. Once (later a hit Broadway musical) evoked the irresistible motif of a musical couple who meet cute on the streets of Dublin. In real life by the time of the film’s release, the pair were an actual musical group, The Swell Season. No danger of that here since the more seasoned of the two principles is not only an “a’ and r'” man instead of a singer, but he’s also Mark Ruffalo (excellent here).

Opposite Ruffalo’s livewire yet dissolute character, Keira Knightley is the reluctant musical debutante, Gretta. Finding herself in New York where she accompanied her pop star boyfriend (Adam Levine of Maroon 5), she is bummed out after he breaks up with her. Ready to return to London, she reluctantly lets herself get cajoled by a friend at an open mike gig to go up on stage and perform one of her songs, accompanying herself on the guitar. Dan (Ruffalo), fresh off his own bad luck, is in the audience, barely able to stand up while pounding down drinks at the bar.

We watch a terrific scene as his creative imagination fleshes out the song in a visual fantasy of his adding (all in his head) first drums, then keyboards and, finally, strings. Then he begins to convince her to record with him, pouring on his large quantities of aggressive charisma, somehow viewing his penniless state as a minor annoyance. Once he convinces Gretta to “make records” with him, they are turned down by his recently estranged record company partner (Mos Def). Dan decides to produce a demo himself and begins to recruit a killer band with help from other cronies he’s cultivated through the years. His intention: record impromptu at outdoor sites throughout New York.

Begin Again has a lot of heart. It trades every corny scene (and there are more than a few) for at least a double dose of heartwarming ones. Carney weaves in a father/daughter difficult relationship trying to find itself, and to a less successful extent, a check-in on Knightley’s ex-boyfriend as he climbs up the corporate rock ladder while watering down his sound.

Realizing good music is paramount to the film’s success, Begin Again contains sufficiently quality tunes (mostly written by Gregg Alexander) to pull this off. While the film may not contain a “Falling Slowly” (the Oscar-winner from Once), the melodies stick, and Knightley more than holds her own. More than just a pretty face, she authentically adds the right amount of edge and vulnerability to a likable yet complex character. Equally effective is a supporting role by Cee Lo Green as a filthy-rich rapper who owes all his success to Dan. Catherine Keener makes what seems like her thousandth appearance in an indy film, as Ruffalo’s ex-wife.

You’ll be hard pressed to find a better feel-good summer flick than this (only the excellent Chef comes to mind). Yet you’ll likely hold your nose at scenes like the one where Dan’s daughter (Hailee Steinfeld), a budding electric guitarist, joins in on one of the recording sessions. He hasn’t heard her play. Yet without so much as a rehearsal, she’s suddenly Jeff Beck and Robert Quine combined. Carney has a way of turning on the charm and rinsing the proceedings not just with convincing chemistry between Ruffalo and Knightly but with downright goosebump-inducing pathos. I, for one, don’t care if he makes a half dozen more of these type of movie “musicals.”

4 Odd-Couple Partnership Records An Album In Alleys And On Rooftops (out of 5 stars)

Sorry to bring up Lucille Ball, one of the comic icons of the early TV generation in relation to–er, Melissa McCarthy. Yet I can’t help but liken the rotund, too-easily-misunderstood McCarthy to a sorry replica of Ball (Lucy on steroids if you will). You want to grasp the thrill of experiencing an underdog who digs in deep for reprisals while knowing just how to manipulate the funny bone? Check out I Love Lucy.

And stop your McCarthy check-out the sooner the better. While her supporting role in Bridesmaids was the best thing about the film, and her turn opposite Sandra Bullock in The Heat transcended a mediocre script, here McCarthy reverts right back to her turgid turn in the abominable Identity Thief. In three years she has gone from an Oscar nominated actress to, essentially, a hack ready to take on any screenplay–no matter how nondescript. Only, here McCarthy actually shares a writing credit– so it’s hard for her to pass the buck.

Little does it matter that Susan Sarandon, Kathy Bates, Toni Collette, Mark Duplass, Allison Janney, Dan Aykroyd and Sandra Oh are all around to try to save this turkey. Outside of Bates and Aykroyd, they’re more like spectators at a funeral.

Let’s see. If you really want to know, the “plot” is something about a hard-luck chick who loses her job and her husband on the same day and decides to go on a road trip with her doty, alcoholic grandma (Sarandon). Along the way she doesn’t think of going back for granny’s diabetes meds but instead decides to hold up a fast food joint to get bail money after feisty granny finds her way in the slammer. Seriously. Then, to try and gain some contemporary cred we meet Sarandon’s brash lesbian cousin, Bates, who likes to throw parties at her plush house.

The sickest part of the film contains quasi-romantic scenes between McCarthy and Duplass that are guaranteed to having you running for the lobby. In this progressive age where sincere attempts to curb the obesity epidemic are challenged at every turn, it you’re going to throw fat jokes out there, they better be good. Here, instead, the goings on head downhill as soon as McCarthy in an early scene grabs her crotch like a guy. By the time the mood has completely changed from shrill shock comedy to bullshit bathos, she’s mooing with Duplass looking down at Niagara Falls. You’ll either be truly ill by then or completely ready to put this chick on the permanent boycott list.

 

1 All-Star-Cast Waiting For A Movie To Show Up (out of 5 stars)