Get Low: Grade C

C

Get Low

Robert Duvall, Bill Murray, Sissy Spacek, Lucas Black; Director Aaron Schneider.

You should see this movie because Duvall has never been better. The man is a master of the art of acting. He just possesses the screen whenever he is on it, even when most of his face is hidden by the long, ratty beard of the old hermit who is his character. And you should see the movie because Bill Murray is a great comic actor who does not need to tell jokes to get a laugh. All he needs to do is raise an eyebrow at the right moment, or toss an offhand remark. Put together Murray with Duvall, and you have an entertaining movie.

But that’s all there is. The rest of the actors do not perform well. Black in particular struggles unsuccessfully against something, maybe the director’s instructions? The story itself is exceptionally weak. The old hermit (Duvall) wants to throw a funeral party for himself, ostensibly so he can learn what people say about him. Funeral director Murray agrees to set it up, but then the old guy changes his mind after the invitations have already gone out. Anxiety follows, but predictably, the big event occurs, at which time, for reasons unclear, the old hermit reveals a dreadful family secret that does not amount to a hill of beans, but Sisssy Spacek cries, so it must be important. That is consistent with the poor writing that substitutes cheap sentimentality for characterization.

On the plus side (besides the great acting mentioned above), the bluegrass music is quite good and the costumes, sets and props for early 1930’s rural south are thoughtfully done, even though everything is brand new and shiny. But since the story line is so weak, the movie is, alas, instantly forgettable.

Peacock: Grade C

C
Peacock (2010)
Cillian Murphy, Ellen Page, Susan Sarandon. Co-writer & Director Michael Lander

This hard-to-find indie is worth a look because of some good acting. Murphy plays a slightly retarded man in a small Norman Rockwell town of about 1960, who suffers from multiple personality disorder, what is properly called Dissociative Identity Disorder, or DID. His two personalities are John, the bank clerk, and Emma, wife of John. The personalities communicate through handwritten notes (all of them Emma to John) and other artifacts, such as groceries, clothing, etc. around the house. So the two personalities are aware of each other, yet at the same time estranged.

DID is extremely rare in real life, so much so that many psychiatrists dispute its legitimacy as a diagnosis. Among documented cases, it is even more rare for the personalities to be aware of each other. So while vaguely tracking the main features of the disorder, the movie takes considerable artistic license, as it should. It could be that John is simply a transvestite and not psychotic at all. But the movie tries hard to make us believe it is a case of DID.

The DID theme is an excellent device for interesting stories, such as Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. It gives a character the chance to do all sorts of things he would like to but wouldn't dare. But in this case, since the personalities know each other and “live together” like husband and wife, the idea is much less interesting. The backstory, that somehow John was traumatized by his mother as a child, is supposed to explain his condition, but it doesn’t, so we just have to accept it as a weird condition.

Acting by Murphy is quite good. That would have to be a challenging role for any actor, to play both genders. But the script is weak and the dialog clunky so he does not have much room to maneuver in the two characters. The different costumes, male and female, cue us into the differences between the personalities, except that Emma, even with her wig, still looks like a guy in drag. One must suspend incredulity that the townspeople are not hip to the deception and cannot see past a little eye makeup to realize it is the same guy. But oh, well.

Ellen Page does an outstanding job as a poor single mother. She really shows her acting talent and range here, as this is not just another smart-mouthed Juno-like character, but one with some real depth. Sarandon is always convincing but her role is extremely limited and she can’t do much with it.

Overall the story doesn’t make much sense, is not very interesting, and there are all kinds of flaws in its logic, and it is psychologically not believable. The pace is way too slow. After a couple of costume changes, we get the point of the DID, but there is still another hour to go. Snoozaroo! If you see the DVD around, rent it to see Page’s performance, and the rest of it is not terrible.

As it Is in Heaven: Grade B

B
As it Is in Heaven (2005)
Michael Nyqvist, Frida Hallgren; Director Kay Pollack. (Swedish, subtitled)

An internationally famous conductor (Nyqvist) suffers a mild heart attack and decides to retire. He returns to his childhood home, a small village in Sweden, where he soon is the local church’s musical director and conductor of the small choir. He works with the townspeople to bring out each person’s “natural inner voice” and before you know it, they sound beautiful, and have formed an emotionally tight community.

The choir's sound, obviously dubbed by professional singers, is too good to be believed, but the music is quite nice. The conductor develops a special relationship with one of the singers (Hallgren), who cautiously falls for him. Meanwhile, the preacher, an uptight, bible-thumping caricature, is shocked by all the “free-spirited” self expression, resentful of being displaced as the center of attention, and suspicious of his wife hanging out with the new conductor. He accuses the conductor of untoward behavior and eventually dismisses him, right before the choir is supposed to perform in a competition in Austria. This could have been a basketball movie with the same plot – coach is removed right before the state playoffs, but the ragtag team goes on without him… you can guess the rest.

The story is highly stereotyped and predictable, but the acting is excellent, and the sets, scenes and costumes are perfect. The actors are ordinary looking people, not the plastic Hollywood glamour standard, which made them all the more believable. Despite the film’s sentimentality and predictability, the acting, directing, and sense of time, place, and person are so completely authentic that you can’t look away.

Shrink: Grade C

C
Shrink (2009)

Kevin Spacey, Keke Palmer, Mark Webber; Director Jonas Pate.

Spacey is an L.A. psychiatrist to celebrities, but he is suffering from depression, possible alcoholism, and, it seems, drug addiction, although we only see him smoking marijuana, which does not make you depressed, and we only see him drinking occasional wine and beer, so the addiction story is not convincing. His real problem is that he is grieving over the recent suicide of his wife, although we do not see him go through much actual grieving. Mainly he just stares into space as if depressed, and makes angry, sarcastic remarks to everyone, which is not consistent with depression. So it is not clear what is up with him except he is burned out on life in a monumentally self-centered way.

One of his clients is a high school student (Palmer) who is also grieving, over her mother’s suicide. We never learn much about that situation, but over the course of the movie, each character yields enough self-defensive anger to become sort-of friends in a way reminiscent of Good Will Hunting. (Actually, Robin Williams appears as an alcoholic patient in an uncredited role, and Spacey’s dope dealer looks like Matt Damon – probably not accidents).

There is no story really, it is just various characters adrift, confused by life, searching for something. In the end, everybody conveniently finds some kind of salvation to wrap it up on a relatively happy note. Without a story and without believable characters, there is really nothing going on in this movie, but Spacey is always a joy to watch, and Keke Palmer is extremely interesting. I wanted to see a lot more of her character, and a lot less of the other deadbeat characters.

Photography has some noticeably good moments but sets and scenes are nondescript or clichéd. Music is appallingly bad, designed to evoke sentimental feelings, but had me reaching for the mute button. Directing is obtrusively trite. The script is terrible. No therapist could survive a week in business with the skills of Spacey’s character. So all you have left is some enjoyable acting, especially by Spacey and Palmer.

Sin Nombre: Grade A

A
Sin Nombre (2009)
Paulina Gaitan, Kristian Ferrer, Édgar Flores; Writer-Director Cary Fukunaga. (Spanish, subtitled).

A father and two youths from Guatemala make the long journey north to escape the poverty and hopelessness of their lives. They walk, and boat, and travel through Mexico riding on top of freight trains, dodging the border patrol, scavenging food, shelter and water as they can. It is a well told story, very realistic, not over-sentimentalized, but sympathetic. As they cross Chiapas in southern Mexico, a young man (Flores) jumps on the train with a few fellow gangsters. They are members of one of the notorious Latino gangs similar to the mafia. They start robbing the hundreds of migrants at gunpoint, but when the mean, ugly, psychopathic gang leader attempts to molest the young girl from Guatemala (Gaitan), his fellow gang member has an attack of scruples and slashes the leader's throat with a single slice of a machete. He knows that makes him marked for death. He continues on the train north, but the gang is international and will not forget about him. The Guatemalan girl befriends him and as they jointly dodge border patrol and gangsters, they develop a relationship. The young man realizes the futility of the gang life, but it is too late for him. The girl seems oblivious to this darker side of life, but maybe not. It’s ambiguous. The ending is realistic, but definitely not Hollywood Happy.

Acting by the young people is excellent. Scenery and music are excellent. Photography is excellent. This is a compelling movie without a false note. It would have been easy to slip into melodrama, like Slumdog Millionaire did, but this picture is completely honest. It conveys a palpable sense of the reality of the Latino gangs and shows how easy it is for youngsters to get involved with them. The title means “without a name,” perhaps a reference to the nameless millions who attempt the journey to El Norte each year. There is perhaps a secondary political statement, but this is primarily a love story that illustrates a world alien to most of us.

12: Grade B

B
12 (2007)
Numerous Russian actors unknown in the west; Co-writer and director Nikita Mikhalkov. (Russian, subtitled).

This is a remake of the 1957 classic American courtroom drama, Twelve Angry Men, done in a peculiarly Russian way. The broad outlines of the original story are kept, but instead of the American version’s didactic exercise in critical thinking, the Russian characters make their points and persuade each other with rambling, often poignant, personal stories, characteristic of traditional Russian culture. The accused is a young Chechen, reviled and presumed guilty of killing a Russian military officer, but the stories gradually introduce a sliver of compassion, shreds of doubt, and eventually a re-thinking that overturns the initial consensus. It didn’t seem as dramatic a conversion as in the American tale, but that is probably because I am American, not Russian. I got the sense from the stories told that the drama would have been quite intense for a Russian audience. Acting is uniformly good, pacing is good, and it is enjoyable to get glimpses into the values and thinking of ordinary Russians. It would have been a better movie if it had been an original Russian story “based on” a similar situation and had not used clunky adherence to original plot points. But maybe the larger message was that educated Russian society is now thinking about democracy and justice along American lines.

Humboldt County: Grade C

C
Humboldt County (2008)
Jeremy Strong, Brad Dourif, Frances Conroy, Peter Bogdanovich; Co-writers and co-directors: Darrin Grodsky & Danny Jacobs.

Uptight medical student Peter (Strong) goes on a bender and wakes up in a hippie house in the redwood forests of Humboldt County, CA, the marijuana growing capitol of the nation. Some mildly humorous straight vs stoned scenes follow as we get to know the colorful characters of the community. Peter abjures the weed and vows to get back to town but somehow manages to miss the once-daily bus several times. Gradually he becomes sympathetic to the potoculturists and when he is finally “rescued” by his overbearing and arrogant father, a prominent physician who treats him like an idiot, Peter has to make a life choice. Guess what it is.

The acting is good and the characters are interesting, although shallow stereotypes only. They laugh and sing, eat and drink, forget things and tell wild stories, but only one of them, an ex-theoretical physicist, has any background of interest. We get just a tiny glimpse of that. Overall, it is a pro dope movie, and the growers are shown in a favorable light. They argue that they are simple farmers who live lightly on the earth, harming no one, and should be left alone. They don’t mention who their buyers are, and whether those buyers are also committed humanists or possibly armed members of international drugs cartels, and there is no hint that the growers are part of an illegal drugs supply system that brings untold grief to millions of people and their families when users end up imprisoned, or worse. So that argument is extremely one-sided and annoying for that.

Yet when Peter argues that as a medical student, he accomplishes more in one week than his cannabis obsessed counterpart has in his lifetime, that is something to think about. Is it true? What do medical students accomplish? What does anybody accomplish in life? Aren’t all our so-called accomplishments just exercises in self-aggrandizement? When you’re dead, what does all that accomplishment matter? Maybe you will get a bridge named after you. Whoopee. If “accomplishment” is an inauthentic value, why not just smoke dope, don’t worry, and be happy? Why worship the frontal lobes? It makes you think (if you don’t inhale).

Having Peter and his father be physicians gives more weight to their argument, because physicians alleviate human suffering, surely a worthwhile value and a legitimate rebuke to the dope growers. In the end, Peter chooses the life of the weed, so the film makes its point. Yet there is ambiguity. Was Peter’s choice a personal Oedipal reaction, or was it a symbolic rejection of mainstream society’s emphasis on achievement and accomplishment? While these issues are presented sophomorically, it’s still a good film for a discussion group.

Another Woman: Grade A

A
Another Woman (1988)
Gena Rowlands, Mia Farrow, Ian Holm, Blythe Danner, Gene Hackman, Sandy Dennis, Martha Plimpton, John Housman. Writer & Director Woody Allen

Despairing the quality of summer releases, I went to the stacks and pulled out this gem from 20 years ago. Better acting in an adult relationship film you will not find. Gena Rowlands is an eminent college professor who overhears a conversation between a young woman (Farrow) and her psychiatrist concerning love, relationships, self esteem. This gets the professor thinking about her own life and relationships. Later we see that her relationship with her husband (Holm) is perfunctory, and although she still seeks a flame of romance, he has long since shut her out with clever words. She meets an old friend (Dennis) and discovers that relationship is not what she thought it was. She sees her husband with another woman. And on and on. Nothing happens. There are no gunfights, explosions, car chases or even much laughter. But the story does goes to the heart of modern adult relationships. Sets and costumes are deliciously perfect in the Woody Allen trademark style of wealthy New Yorkers. Every detail is perfect. Cinematography (Sven Nyquist) is stylish and perfect as always. And the acting! Gene Hackman was flat, but the others were memorable, especially Sandy Dennis. This is a movie that rewards another look.

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button: Grade F

F
The Curious Case of Benjamin Button (2008)
Brad Pitt, Cate Blanchett, Tilda Swinton, Taraji P. Henson; Director David Fincher.

This movie was not popular on Mars, where I live, although I understand Earthlings were wild about it, nominating it for best picture of 2008. It tells the story of a person born at 80 years old, whatever that means. Embryology aside, the person is baby-shaped and baby-sized, but has facial wrinkles and a doctor says he also has arthritis and cataracts, and is going to die. But no, this baby (Benjamin) will grow in reverse, to become younger every year, although his brain must develop in the normal direction, since an adult brain does not fit in a baby skull.

As Benjamin “ages” he gets younger, and moves from balding hair in a wheel chair at 7, to a mature gentleman, who, although only 20 years old, acts like he is 60. His skin has become smoother, his head hairy, but he also has grown into an adult-sized person, which wouldn’t make sense if his body is aging in reverse. How did Benjamin learn bodily coordination without a childhood of playing? Wasn’t school a bit awkward when he looked like he was in his 70’s? And were there no doctors or scientists around who might have been curious? Oh well.

In his “youth” Benjamin befriends the little redhead neighbor girl. Later, he goes off to seek his fortune at sea. He returns home in his twenties as Brad Pitt and by then the little red-haired girl is a young Cate Blanchett. They marry and have a child. Nobody notices or is concerned about his younger appearance. Oddly, Pitt loves rock and roll and living like a hippie, though his mental age would be over 60 at this point. He and Blanchett understand that he will be a mere child when the daughter grows up, so he leaves. The girl grows up and reads this entire story out of a diary he left, although we never saw him write in any diary, nor show an iota of self-reflection. So most of the movie is tedious voice-over, showing disconnected vignettes as illustration. Dialog is banal. Acting is unremarkable, except for Swinton who does a good job with a terrible part.

CGI effects are laughable, but interiors are detailed and interesting. Makeup is amazing but there was no DVD extra on makeup, so nothing to learn there. There should have been some thought-provoking ideas but the basic premise was so confused that nothing can be inferred. As a 30 minute short, this could have been a charming conceit and we would forgive the contradictions. As a 2.5 hour movie, we expect some serious exploration of the idea, or the characters, or the historical period, or existential themes, or something, but there is nothing.

The Wrestler: Grade A

A
The Wrestler (2008)
Mickey Rourke, Marisa Tomei, Evan Rachel Wood; Director Darren Aronofsky.

Rourke is “Randy the Ram,” a washed-up wrestler (theatrical wrestling, not the real sport). He looks great with his chiseled, beat-up face, long blond hair and muscular though sagging body. He speaks in a deep mumbling monotone like Stallone, that gives the sense of a large, dangerous, but confused animal.

He has a heart attack and must quit wrestling. Completely lost, he confides in his only friend, a middle-aged pole dancer (Tomei) at a sleazy club. The similar yet different lives of the flesh these characters lead are parallel. Each of them knows they are too old to be meat-based performers, but neither knows what to do. While much has been made of Rourke’s seemingly autobiographical performance (and it is tremendous) the best moment of the movie is Tomei wiggling around the pole and coming to an epiphany, shown by her facial expressions alone, “What the hell am I doing?” It is a truly memorable moment of film acting.

The relationship between Rourke and his estranged daughter (Wood) is a small subtheme that gives him a chance to display his tender side, but even there the interaction feels genuine and Wood delivers a fine performance. The story is extremely well written, so the parallel between Rourke’s and Tomei’s desperate lives is well defined. In the end, each character takes their drifting life into their own hands, each in their own way. The directing is exceptionally good as well. You get a real olfactory sense of those locker rooms, gymnasiums, and that strip club. A moving film, worthy of its many award nominations.

The Page Turner: Grade B

B
The Page Turner (2006)
Catherine Frot, Deborah Francoise. Co-writer and director Denis Dercourt. (French, subtitled).

A ten year old girl in a piano competition is distracted by a teacher who signs an autograph in the middle of her performance. The girl loses her train of thought and the competition, and never plays again. That’s not very likely, but it is necessary to set up the revenge story that follows. Ten years later, the girl, now young woman, gets a nanny job at the home of the teacher, who does not recognize her. Eventually the girl is trusted with the job of turning pages for the teacher, now a concert pianist, during an important concert. But the act of revenge is not the obvious thing you expect. Instead it is far more subtle and for that, hurtful. Very nice, though it raises the question: if the victim never knows that the grief was due to revenge rather than fate, does it still count as revenge? There’s not much action in this psychological thriller, but the acting by the two women is very good. Sets and costumes are luscious, and the music is lovely. It is a very "inner" movie.

The Edge of Heaven: Grade A

A
The Edge of Heaven (2008)
Nurgül Yesilçay, Tuncel Kurtiz, Hanna Schygulla, Nursel Köse; Writer-director Fatih Akin. (German and Turkish; subtitled).

Turkish-born German director Akin tells of three families whose lives intersect in random ways, per the now formulaic Crash template. Much of the action and dialog takes place in Istanbul and in northeastern (Kurdish) Turkey. An old Turkish man (Kurtiz) in Germany invites a Turkish prostitute (Yesilcay) to quit the business and move in with him. His son is a German professor of Turkish studies, who goes to Turkey to search for the woman’s adult daughter. Meanwhile, the daughter (Kose), a Kurdish activist hunted by police, goes to Bremen to search for her mother. Those two characters cross paths but never meet, though we badly want them to. The daughter befriends a female college student in Bremen and they become lovers. When tragedy befalls them, the student’s mother (Schygulla) travels to Turkey. There her path crosses that of the now-deported old Turk who had befriended the prostitute, but they never meet. The story just ends when the time is up. There is no resolution and it is frustrating, until you realize that in real life, no bell rings to mark “resolution.” We each live in a bubble, trying to make sense of our own lives. As the viewer we have an omniscient, God’s – eye view of how these six lives interact over time, culture, and geography, yet we are forced to settle for the tunnel vision of a mere mortal. It is a contradiction.

The cinematographer prefers high contrast lighting with bright, contrasting colors, especially red and white. It’s a sharp look, very pleasing even in scenes of urban squalor. Acting is marvelous, especially by Köse, who dominates the screen. Apparently she is a big star in Turkey but unknown (until now) outside the country. Schygulla has a smaller role but she still has the magic of her youth. Just asking for a cup of coffee, she rivets your attention. The directing does not draw attention to itself but the writing does. For supposedly ordinary people living ordinary lives, too many low probability events occur and when those tales are not concluded, we wonder what the point was. So in the end, the movie is not quite satisfying, but the beautiful pictures, fine acting, and fascinating languages and cultures more than make up for any deficit in story.

The Visitor: Grade A

A
The Visitor (2008)
Richard Jenkins, Haaz Sleiman, Danai Gurira, Hiam Abbas; Writer-Director Thomas McCarthy.

An aging, burned out economics professor (Jenkins) leaves his home in Connecticut to visit his apartment in New York City. He finds a young couple (Sleiman and Gurira) living there illegally. The young man is an aspiring musician from Syria, a player of African drums, while she makes and sells beadwork of her native Senegal on the street. The professor politely asks them to leave and they politely leave, but he realizes they will be destitute and invites them back to share his (amazingly spacious) apartment for a while. Relationships are awkward but he develops a friendship with the young man, but alas, the ICE (immigration authorities) capture the young man. His mother (Abbas) appears at the professor’s door and the movie shifts to the slowly developing relationship between the professor and the mother as they try to get her son out of prison.

The acting by these four principal characters is nothing short of phenomenal. They are all utterly compelling, but Jenkins’ performance is astonishing. He says in a DVD interview, “I have been waiting all my professional life for this role.” It makes you wonder why he had to wait. Abbas also gives an outstanding performance, as does the director in portraying the quiet yet deep relationship that develops between the two older adults. The first half of the picture features the exuberance of the younger couple and conveys the multicultural world that is modern New York. The city is a star character in its own right, lovingly portrayed and beautifully photographed to unite the two halves of the movie. Writing and dialog seem authentic. I didn’t notice a single cliché in dialog, characterization, or photography.

This movie has the slow pace and subtle emotions of a serious foreign film. There are no guns, no drugs, no explosions, no sex, no violence, no stereotypes. It will not please most American moviegoers, but for the few who do enjoy a deeply meaningful study of modern human lives in development, it will be very rewarding.

The Sensation of Sight: Grade A

A
The Sensation of Sight (2006)
David Strathairn, Daniel Gillies, Ann Cusak, Joseph Mazello; Writer-director Aaron J. Wiederspahn.

This existential indie echoes Beckett and Mamet in its writing and Hal Hartley (without the sense of humor) in directing. A depressed English professor leaves the classroom to sell encyclopedias door to door pulling a child's wagon. Or at least that is his story. He is actually drifting aimlessly through a bleak, November New England small town, sleeping on park benches and sometimes selling a single book for $20 to strangers who take pity on him. He is supposed to be “finding himself” but he speaks like an idiot savant. It is riveting acting by Strathairn, but at no time do we believe he was a college professor. Meanwhile, multiple subplots in the town develop, and Crash-like, become increasingly interwoven. A depressed ex-con walks around with his guitar, trying to find himself, shadowed by the dead brother he can’t forget. Another ex-con tries to visit his young daughter while the wife and daughter avoid him. The salesman happens to stay at the same B&B as the mother and daughter and happens to knock on the door of the husband, and happens to have lunch with the despondent guitar-player’s father and sister. None of it makes much sense, as with life itself, we are to understand. Nevertheless, Stathairn’s performance is a revelation and the photography is pure eye candy. The dialog is stagey and writerly but engaging. At 133 minutes, the film easily could have been edited, as could almost any film where the writer is the director and a distanced perspective is lacking. Music is highly listenable and varied, but not integrated. All but two of the parts elicit strong acting, making the viewing experience very positive overall.

The Life Before Her Eyes: Grade D

D
The Life Before Her Eyes (2008)
Uma Thurman, Evan Rachel Wood, Eva Amurri. Director Vadim Perelman.

Wood is a high school student who, with her friend Amurri, narrowly survives one of those depressingly common school shootups by a nutcase student. The experience colors the rest of her life. Thurman is the anxiety-ridden adult who can’t get over the event, especially at the (unlikely) 15th anniversary memorial service for it in the small town where, unlikely though it seems, she still lives, near her high school friend, with her husband and daughter. She seems to have PTSD symptoms but mainly she suffers (and so do we) from incessant flashbacks to the traumatic event. Scenes from her youth are repeated multiple times with hardly any variation. I understand what flashbacks are without seeing identical film clips repeated every few minutes. Okay, so it was traumatic. How about a therapist? There is no forward movement to the story and no character development. Absolutely nothing happens. Thurman just has flashbacks and panic attacks for 90 minutes. We do not even get to see the resolution of the traumatic incident. Was the shooter captured? How did Wood and her friend manage to escape unharmed? Nothing is revealed. Perhaps the filmmaker wanted us to feel what it is like to suffer from ongoing PTSD, but if so, the effort was lost on me. Redeeming virtues are that Thurman and Wood are fine actors, always enjoyable to watch. The relatively unknown Amurri also does a very good job in drawing a character contrast to Wood.

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.

Sleuth: Grade B

B
Sleuth (2007)
Michael Caine, Jude Law. Director Kenneth Branaugh.

This is a remake of the 1972 classic in which Caine played the younger man against Olivier’s wealthy eccentric. Here Caine is the wealthy eccentric living in a cold, blue, angular, architectural, ultra-modern country mansion, and Law, who has been sleeping with Caine’s wife, comes over to ask Caine to divorce his wife. For the next 85 minutes these two men, the only actors in the movie, talk with each other, trading insults, plans, entreaties, witticisms and a tiny bit of action. The dialog (by Harold Pinter) crackles with energy and wit, but the bottom line is that it is just two guys talking about random subjects for over an hour. The so-called plot involves each one inviting the other to play a game of wits, in which one is humiliated and the other gloats. It is not believable so ultimately the characters are unmotivated and boring. The story has the contrived feel of a theatrical play (which is where the script started), and Pinter’s writing reminds me of Mamet and in places of Beckett’s Godot, with plenty of rhythmic one-word lines and non-sequiturs. That’s fun, but only for 10 minutes. The whole “battle of wits” theme doesn’t make much sense and did not sustain my interest.

However, there are two strong reasons for watching this movie. One is marvelous acting. Michael Caine has always been one of my favorite second tier actors and here he combines his best face acting with his unique diction. But Jude Law! His acting is superlative here, especially in the “detective” sequence, unlike anything I have seen him do before. We can only guess what Branaugh did to bring out this talent, but it is worth seeing. Secondly, the overall production values are superior, from the innovative and daring cinematography to the artistic sets and excellent makeup and costumes, to perfectly composed and paced music that really contributes to the flow. Lack of a decent story and believable characters are pretty tough handicaps to overcome but this movie almost does it.

The Invasion: Grade B

B
The Invasion (2007)
Nicole Kidman, Daniel Craig. Director Oliver Herschbiegel.

In this third remake of the 1956 classic, Kidman is a Washington, DC psychiatrist and Craig is a physician. The invaders come as spores on the space shuttle and spread through bodily fluids. But even after you have been infected the transformation doesn’t “take” until you fall asleep. Kidman starts to notice patients and friends who are “not themselves.” It’s ambiguous, because there is nothing unusual about these people unless you knew them well. They are not the easily identifiable zombies of the original movie. After a while the aliens dispense with stealth and just start killing humans who betray their uninfected status by showing emotion. The aliens argue persuasively (and with feeling!) that a world without emotion is better. Kidman and Craig race around town pursued by alien zombies, trying to get an antidote before Kidman, who is infected, falls asleep. Whereas the original movie is generally interpreted as reflecting McCarthyism and fear of communist infiltration, this version expresses fear of an AIDS-like global pandemic, called “flu” in the movie, and also fear of totalitarian government (the aliens go for the police and government officials first – an odd choice). The moral dilemma, whether humankind would be better off without its “animal” passions, is displayed, but not examined. The story is more campy than a serious exploration of any idea. It is a well-done film, although I miss the big green pods. Both Kidman and Craig turn in good acting. I am mystified by Kidman’s boob job, which is prominently on display. Why would such a talented actor with such a beautiful face do that to herself? Maybe she is an alien.

Lions for Lambs: Grade D

D
Lions for Lambs (2007)
Robert Redford, Meryl Streep, Tom Cruise. Director Robert Redford.

This anti-war movie is a diatribe urging young people to get involved in politics to oppose the war (in Iraq), which is portrayed as ill-conceived, unsuccessful, and morally illegitimate. Cruise is a US senator who has a new plan to win the war by increased military action. He is portrayed as if he were Commander in Chief, when really, all a senator can do is authorize or cut off funding for a war, but this is the movie’s way to avoid direct criticism of the president. The senator releases news of new military action to reporter Streep. They have a snappy dialog about the legitimacy of the war, its history, aims, and processes, but it just rehashes familiar arguments. Lefty Streep wants the Republican senator to take responsibility for disastrous foreign policy but he changes the subject to argue an unrelated point. He wants to talk about the future, not "dwell" on the past. These attitudes and rhetorical strategies fairly represent today’s political discourse, making the senator look either stupid or dishonest, but surely self-blind.

Redford is an unlikely political science professor who chastises his star student for apathetically choosing personal ambition over political engagement. It is the "message” of the movie, that young people need to get involved, but it is a simplistic view delivered with deadening Redfordian pomposity. The professor tells of two other students who got involved by enlisting in the army. That option is portrayed ambiguously. He criticizes it, but the soldiers themselves justify it. Those soldiers end up in Afghanistan, in a set of dark-blue-filtered scenes that is so muddy and dim you can’t even make out their faces. I think that was done to disguise the unconvincing Styrofoam rocks and powdered snow. With plenty of noisy but meaningless gunfire, this segment of the movie is to remind us that if you go into the Service, you could be killed. Better you should lick envelopes at campaign headquarters.

The well-worn arguments in this movie are stated, not portrayed in a story that might bring them to life. I happen to agree completely with the sentiments and attitudes expressed but that doesn’t make it a good movie. Acting by Streep is worth watching, but that’s about all. Directing is adequate for the talking heads but dreadful for the ambushed soldiers. I think the filmmakers failed to get sufficiently engaged themselves and settled for easy speechifying, frittering away a powerhouse cast.

Great World of Sound: Grade C

C
Great World of Sound (2007)
Pat Healy, Kene Holliday, John Baker; Director and co-writer Craig Zobel.

Down on their luck but ambitious young men attend a “get rich” seminar in which a couple of smooth con men explain how they can become record producers. The company puts ads in newspapers and the “producers” screen the singing acts that appear, promising to make the dream happen, if only the artist will put up $3000 (a mere 30%) to “participate” in the production. Two of the guys, Healy and Holliday go forth earnestly and do rather well. Much of the movie shows excerpts of the acts they review and the cajoling of the “participation” fee out of the naive, self-obsessed artists. The acts are generally awful, a few show potential, though none are great. This part of the movie was waaaaay too long. I got the idea after the third clip, but over a dozen are shown. Gradually, the “producers” (at least Healy) come to realize that no records are going to be made and they are just ripoff artists. That should be a great dramatic story of conscience, but it doesn’t quite fly here. The climax occurs when even after his self-realization, Healy is forced to cold-heartedly rip off one more innocent just to make plane fare home.

The con men running the company are archetypal, and that part of the movie is terrific satire, reminiscent of Glengarry, Glen Ross. Then the theme changes to a buddy movie as Healy and Holliday learn how to screen and fleece the acts, though at first they are sincere. Holliday might be wise to the con from the beginning; that is not clear. Healy’s epiphany is not very dramatic. It just seems to sneak up on him. More confrontation was needed to dramatize his character change, which is the heart of the movie. The consequences for the victims are not explored, for example. Finally, the guys quit the company and go home as if nothing happened, a thud of an ending. Acting by Holliday and Baker (the company boss), is notably good; less so, the others. Dramatic tension is at the level of wet laundry. The directing and editing are good on the various performing acts, but there is too much of that. Sets are terrific. So it is a watchable movie, not a comedy, but a human drama with a few laughs.