Joan Rivers: A Piece of Work: Grade B

B

Joan Rivers: A Piece of Work (2010)

Joan Rivers; Directors Ricki Stern, Anne Sundberg.

This documentary follows Rivers for one year, her seventy-fifth, as she tries to get performance dates, performs, and frets over her career and her relationship with her daughter. She is chronically anxious about getting engagements because, she says, she needs the money, and that’s not surprising, considering how she lives. She has an enormous apartment in New York City with more square footage than my house, and it looks like a replica of the Palace at Versailles. It is truly bizarre.

She seems sharp for 75 years old, although the film is edited to give only limited access to her life. She relates a superficial autobiography revealing only the mundane: marriages, children, and showbiz gossip, trials, and tribulations. We learn about her mainly by watching her behave in this film, and what we learn is that she is an ordinary, neurotic, insecure, slightly scatterbrained person, and not a particularly interesting one, except for the way she wastes mountains of money (with no explanation). She is a great comedian though, and I would have much rather watched an hour of her performing or at least talking about how she writes. Still, you have to give respect to someone who is still doing standup after a half century.

The Social Network: Grade B

B
The Social Network (2010)
Jesse Eisenberg, Andrew Garfield, Justin Timberlake; Director David Fincher.

Eisenberg is Mark Zuckerman, founder of Facebook, and this is his story. In his Harvard dorm room he builds a web site showing pictures and bios of Harvard women, ostensibly for guys to rate their “hotness.” It evolves into the Facebook we know today.

Sound boring? It does, but it isn’t, because of the excellent writing (Aaron Sorkin) and acting. The drama alternates between a present-day legal hearing, in which several of Zuckerman’s classmates are suing him for stealing their idea for Facebook, and the historical unfolding, from Zuckerman’s point of view, of what actually happened. The movie is ambiguous about blame, but generally favors Zuckerman.

As the story unfolds, we see immature college antics, obsessions with sex, alcohol, getting into good social clubs, and pretentious displays of intellectual cleverness. Among these stereotypes, no one takes school seriously. The dialog is witty-smart-ass-intellectual, salted with plenty of authentic technical mumbo jumbo. Everyone speaks in zingers, so characters never say anything serious or sincere (Garfield’s character, Zuckerman’s roommate, is an exception).

There is no attempt to understand the meaning of Facebook or the motivation of people who use it, or how it has affected modern communication. The movie is essentially a bio-pic of one monumentally egocentric jerk (Zuckerman) who happened to get monumentally lucky, but there is no insight into who he is. What makes the film work is our knowledge and awe of the Facebook phenom and our fascination with it. If the movie were about the development of an industrial pump company, it would be a flop. We bring our own interest so the movie doesn’t have to generate any.

Milk: Grade A

A
Milk (2008)
Sean Penn, Josh Brolin; Director Gus Van Sant.

This biography of San Francisco city councilman Harvey Milk is slow moving, but amazing acting by Penn keeps you glued. Milk was the first openly gay councilman (the first gay elected official in California, actually), who succeeded on his fourth try, in 1977. When he was murdered in 1978 I remember becoming aware for the first time of how demented gay bigotry is. The movie is focused on the man and his complex character, but it is also a documentation of the gay rights movement coming out of the counterculture. Both themes are well illuminated and though-provoking. Sets and costumes are perfect.It must have been difficult to recreate San Francisco street scenes of the 1970’s but I was completely convinced. Great camera work and deft direction are displayed. The camera stays on a conversation just as long as it needs to and not one moment more. Movies don’t get any extra points from me because they are “based on a true story” because all human expression is. If this movie had been a fabrication rather than a biography, it would still be excellent, though lacking in the grand, exaggerated gestures we expect of dramatic productions. Such gestures are only caricatures of life's real dramas, but oddly, when they are missing in a feature film, something feels lacking.

W. Grade C

C
W. (2008)
Josh Brolin, Elizabeth Banks, James Cromwell, Richard Dreyfuss, Thandie Newton. Director Oliver Stone.

The impressions were the most fun in this docudrama biography of George W. Bush. Brolin, as GW Bush, had the voice and gestures down cold. I totally believed him. Condi Rice was near perfect (Newton) and so was Dick Cheney (Dreyfuss). Colin Powell (Jeffrey Wright) was the least convincing, not only because the look was not close, but the speech and gestures weren’t either, nor was the character’s persona (compared to what we saw in public). One couldn’t expect 100% on the impersonation front, but the result was highly variable.

Beyond interesting impersonations though, what was the point of this movie? It documented, with restraint and respect, Bush’s early wild years of alcoholism, aimlessness and dissipation, and his rise to the presidency. But we never got a sense of who he was. Why was he wild and self-destructive? Was he jealous of brother Jeb? Oppressed by Poppy Bush? These were suggested in the dialog but there was nothing revealed through the character’s behavior. To show who a character is, you put him in the vise grip of a situation and watch how he reacts and that’s how you know who he is. But this movie didn’t do that, and I did not come away from it thinking I had any more insight into W. than before. One day we see him at an AA meeting, but we don’t know why he is there. There was a suggestion that he had a really bad hangover and that’s what made him change, but that hardly seems a compelling explanation.

One day he collapsed while jogging and looked up at the treetops, and after that he became a born-again Christian? What? So it is throughout the movie. He marries Laura. Why? No clue. He decides to run for congress, then Governor. Why? Don’t know. Things happen, and they are shown. But nothing is explained. The same is true for the other players, such as Powell. He objects and is even sullen during the discussion of WMD’s in Iraq, but next we see him at the UN giving his famous false PowerPoint. Why? No explanation is suggested.

There is also little dramatic tension in the film, and not just because we know how everything turns out. This script doesn’t know if it is a documentary or a drama and it comes up neither. There is plenty of intrinsic drama in the GW Bush story, but it is not captured. Even if Bush was not smart enough, or not introspective enough to understand the conflicts inherent in his personal and public life, the filmmaker surely should have been. Since there is no story and no character development, all the acting talent is focused on doing impressions, and some are better than others.

I’m Not There: Grade C

C
I’m Not There (2007)
Cate Blanchett, Christian Bale, Richard Gere, Heath Leger, Co-writer and director: Todd Haynes.

Multiple actors portray episodes in the life of male folk-singers in the 1960’s. The characters are all quite different, and none of them is named Bob Dylan. Yet we are made to understand that they all represent Bob Dylan at various times in his life. Several Dylan classics are played along with other period music. This picaresque approach to a Dylan biography is creative but interesting only if you are well-informed about his life, which I am not. I loved the iconic early protest classics and I really liked Nashville Skyline in the 70’s. That is the full extent of my Bob Dylan knowledge, so this movie, presumably packed with meaningful allusion, was mostly lost on me. The sequence in which Cate Blanchett plays Dylan is well worth seeing. They could have done the whole movie around her amazing performance. Unfortunately, it is just one segment among many dull, badly acted, badly directed, witless, pointless scenarios.

Bernard and Doris: Grade C

C
Bernard and Doris (2007)
Susan Sarandon, Ralph Fiennes; Director Bob Balaban.

Doris Duke inherited a fortune from her father, for whom Duke University is named. This movie portrays her (Sarandon) as an eccentric, autocratic self-obsessed alcoholic and drug user who flits about the world on various adventures, but while she’s home at her mansion in New Jersey, is served by her Irish butler, Lafferty (Fiennes). The butler role is well-executed but not elevated to high art as it was by Anthony Hopkins in Remains of the Day. Duke is a caricature, not a person we ever get to know or understand or care about. As time goes on, the two trust each other and become friends. When Duke is away, Lafferty drinks his way through her wine cellar, and they become co-dependent addicts, laughing it up when she brings home colorful guests from her travels. Suddenly, in one scene, she has a stroke and in the next scene she is dead, leaving her fortune to her butler. He died shortly thereafter. There is no plot, and while Sarandon is a magnetic actor no matter what, there isn’t much work for her here. The detailed sets of a fabulously wealthy woman’s house are the most fun part of the movie. I rented this without noticing it was an HBO film, and its quality confirms my bias that television movies are often a full cut below theater releases, even when strong actors are billed. I haven’t a clue why that should be.

The Diving Bell and the Butterfly: Grade A

A
The Diving Bell and the Butterfly (2007)
Mathieu Amalric, Emmanuelle Seigner, Marie-Josée Croze; Director Julian Schnabel. (French, Subtitled).

In 1995 the prominent editor of Elle magazine suffered a stroke in Paris, at age 44. When he awoke 20 days later, he found himself totally paralyzed except for his left eyelid. In this movie of that experience, the camera takes the stricken man's point of view as the lens peers out into the hospital room. We hear his voice, representing his thoughts, as he is first perplexed by his condition, then horrified, outraged, self-pitying, then finally challenged. He can see and hear perfectly well. It’s a brilliant use of the cinematic medium. When he cries, the lens, his left eye, goes blurry. Doctors, therapists, and friends stand in front of his one good eye and speak to him, many giving outstanding acting performances.

As the movie progresses, we move out of that restricted point of view so we can see him sitting in a wheel chair at the sea, and we have a full field view of his surroundings. The diving bell of the title is his paralyzed body, the butterfly his imagination, which is rich and varied. In beautiful photography, he reminisces on his life, especially on his relationship with his father, and imagines faraway places, journeys to other centuries, luxurious meals, and so on (though oddly, not tennis, rowing, dancing, or other vigorous bodily activity). One of his therapists develops a system of communication in which she reads the alphabet to him, and he blinks to indicate his choice of a letter in the list. By this method he manages to “dictate” an entire book, his memoir (The Diving Bell And The Butterfly, by Jean-Dominique Bauby. Translated by Jeremy Leggatt. Knopf, $20). This movie is a film treatment of that book. It is a treat for the eyes, with great acting and a fascinating story that never leaves you bored. The only disappointment is that most of the authors’ reminiscences are sentimental and banal. I would have liked him to reflect on the human condition, pride, ambition, the nature of suffering, fate, existence, God, the relationship between mind and body. But he was not that guy, so we get what he had to give, which is interesting enough, packaged into a very well-made film.

Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story: Grade B

B
Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story (2007)
John C. Reilly, Jenna Fischer. Director Jake Kasdan

As a satire of the music biopic genre, this movie is more silly than insightful. It mocks recent pictures such as Ray and Walk Tall, and many individual musical styles, from Dylan to the Beatles. The musical writing itself is even humorous, the way original songs are made to sound like well-known songs without actually copying. Interspersed with unfunny melodramatic exaggeration, there are some very good postmodern digs at individual artists, such as Elvis or the Beatles. The references are “postmodern” because while making fun of the target, the jokes also ironically draw attention to themselves, so the joke itself is part of the joke. It is clever stuff, but only clever, not revealing of anything. The whole movie has the feeling of a somewhat lame SNL sketch, or a series of them. Reilly does his own singing however and that’s quite impressive. Fischer (“Pam” from The Office) really can act. You don’t once think of her as a receptionist. If you’re a fan of goofy, adolescent humor, and of co-writer Judd Apatow (40 Year Old Virgin, Knocked Up, etc.) then you’ll enjoy this light, throwaway comedy.

La Vie En Rose: Grade D

D
La Vie En Rose (2007)
Marion Cotillard, Sylvie Testud; Co-writer and director: Oliver Dahan. (French, subtitled)

Cotillard gives a convincing portrayal of French chanteuse Edith Piaf, who was enormously popular in Europe and America from the 1930’s through the 1950’s. My high school French teacher used to play her records for the class, so the songs are familiar and nostalgic to me, although I did not realize until I saw this movie how perfect Piaf’s diction really was and that is probably why the teacher played the tunes. Cotillard lip syncs the songs perfectly, and the songs and “the voice” are the reason I give this movie a pass. There is nothing else to recommend it. Nearly every scene is indoors and the lighting is so dark, as if everything were lit by cheap candles. Walls are green and brown. Costumes are green and brown. Shadows are deep. Look at the DVD cover. The whole look of the movie is murky and muddy. Though Piaf sang through two world wars, there is little sense of history or geography. The unnecessarily zooming and panning camera is often distracting to the action. Acting is only adequate. Even Cotillard, who gives a 100% performance, is bound by the tedious, melodramatic script. The narrative alternates between scenes of adult aging and childhood flashbacks, which is interesting but goes on for an unjustified 2 hours and 10 minutes, with numerous scenes apparently designed only for tear-jerk potential. She was raised in a brothel, how awful. As a child she was blinded by an eye inflammation for months, how awful. But these scenes and many like them contribute nothing to our understanding of the character. The adult Piaf never refers to them, and the filmmakers never suggest that they had any effect whatsoever on her. So why are they in the movie? At the end of this biopic, I know next to nothing about Edith Piaf except she liked to sing, drank too much, and was lonesome. That could describe a lot of people. There is nothing here that explains the great Piaf-Piaf.

Talk To Me: Grade A

A
Talk To Me (2007)
Don Cheadle, Chiwetel Ejiofor, Taraji P. Henson, Martin Sheen. Director Kasi Lemmons.

Can this be the same Don Cheadle who starred in Hotel Rwanda? His range of talent is astonishing. In this historical docudrama he is Petey Greene, an ex-con who became a popular radio DJ in Washington DC in the mid 1960s. He “tells it like it is” to the black community, who respond with enthusiasm. His on-air announcement of the murder of Martin Luther King Jr., and his response to the riots afterward, are moving. The story of Petey’s life and career, which Ejiofor believes he is managing, is a sophisticated character study. Both of those lead actors give outstanding performances. Petey’s girlfriend, Henson, plays too broadly, but that’s probably the director’s fault. Petey’s signature line, “Wake up, goddammit!” is reminiscent of Robin Williams’ “Good Morning Vietnam.” The dialog is “right on” as we used to say, and the costumes “far out.” There were a few small anachronisms in the sets (mailboxes the wrong color) and the costumes might have been on the edge of parody, but maybe not; I don’t remember everything, and I was never black. Wonderful period music is used. The movie has a lot of very funny lines satirizing black jive but I wouldn’t call this a comedy. I think it is a serious snapshot in a long cultural dialog about race that is not over yet. But the bottom line is Cheadle. He completely nails this role.

The Hoax: Grade A

A

The Hoax (2006)

Richard Gere, Alfred Molina, Hope Davis, Marcia Gay Harden. Director Lasse Hallstrom.

Since the success of Capote last year, there have been several movies about novel writers and their New York publishers. I think there was even a second Capote movie. In this rendition, Gere plays Clifford Irving, a writer who in the 1970’s wrote a fake autobiography of reclusive billionaire Howard Hughes and sold it to McGraw Hill for millions. He was found out and went to jail, so there isn’t much dramatic suspense built into the story. What keeps the story alive is Gere’s acting, yes, actual acting. I usually avoid Gere movies, but here he shows unexpected talent. Is the character a psychopathic liar or just a desperate and creative man who must continue to one-up himself? It must have been good directing that brought Gere out. The overwrought sidekick (Molina) is difficult to decipher but he is an interesting face actor. Marcia Gay Harden looks good as Irving’s wife. I couldn’t tell what kind of an accent she was putting on, but her performance was somehow both comedic and serious at the same time. This is not a great movie but it remains engaging throughout. Also, it is nice to see an intelligent story about real human dynamics, with no explosions, murders, gang fights, or drug sniffing; okay maybe a little money laundering, tops.