Liam Neeson turned into your-dad-as-action-hero almost a decade ago in "Taken" and has been delivering middle-class retiree rage ever since (he's also continued to do actual acting roles in other movies, but these are the ones that have paid the bills and got the most attention). "The Commuter" continues this approach with him as an ex-cop insurance agent whose daily commute seems somewhat regulated, right up until the day when something changes and he ends up getting an offer he wasn't expecting and one he finds difficult to refuse - to track down an extra passanger that a mysterious someone wants to locate. Of course there's a whole conspiracy involved and of course Liam will prove essential in breaking it apart, saving the innocent and beating up the guilty before the film is done. Also there's the opportunity for some wild fights, chases and stunts on his way to resolving everything.
This is fairly familiar work but it's not particularly hideously executed. The supporting cast is fairly solid - if most of the passengers are two-dimensional "types", they're at least clear and deliniated, and have a part to play in bringing things to a conclusion. Neeson is extremely middle-class-underappreciated-white-guy, whose backstory even includes a reference to the financial crisis and Goldman Sachs for a bit of political relevance. The conclusion begins to feel massively unlikely and the vaster conspiracy probably doesn't make a great deal of sense, but in the moment it's an effective enough action-thriller.
Thursday 25 January 2018
The Shape of Water
This is undoubtedly Gullermo Del Toro's best English Language film, and strongly compares to his best two foreign language films, "Devil's Backbone" and "Pan's Labyrinth". A romantic tale about a mute cleaner in a government laboratory who discovers and forms a relationship with a strange sea creature, it's beautiful in every aspects, from performances (Sally Hawkins' dreamy protagonist, Doug Jones' strong and sensative creature, Richard Jenkins and Octavia Spencer as two of Hawkins' very different allies, Michael Shannon as the cruel government agent running the experiments and Michael Stuhlbarg as the scientist with his own agenda), to design to script to music....
This film has the strange ability to go into some hillariously scatological places (in particular in a side monologue by Spencer on the scientists' bathroom habits) yet keep everything just on the right side of enchantment. But there's real pain and desires lurking beneath - whether it be Jenkins longing for something he can't quite name, Shannon looking to destroy what he can't understand, or Hawkins opening herself up to possibilities). And the bittersweet ending is perfect, giving us both the fairy story ending and the understanding that it all depends on who's telling the tale.
Truly transcendent cinema.
This film has the strange ability to go into some hillariously scatological places (in particular in a side monologue by Spencer on the scientists' bathroom habits) yet keep everything just on the right side of enchantment. But there's real pain and desires lurking beneath - whether it be Jenkins longing for something he can't quite name, Shannon looking to destroy what he can't understand, or Hawkins opening herself up to possibilities). And the bittersweet ending is perfect, giving us both the fairy story ending and the understanding that it all depends on who's telling the tale.
Truly transcendent cinema.
Saturday 20 January 2018
The Post
This is straight-down-the-line Oscar bait, between the prestigious topic (how journalists brought government secrets to the public despite the best attempts to supress them), the big name cast and director and the obvious relevance to contemporary events. But it's also effective as a reasonably taut moral thriller about what went on backstage to ensure that information-as-business continued successfully.
One might quibble a bit, for instance, that Meryl Streep is made a tad naive about the nature of the newspaper business largely so that she can have an arc of discovering her own power, and that perhaps the top end of the paper gets a lot more attention than the day-to-day journalists and the source of the leak, plus the ending plays a little too knowingly as a setup for the historical sequel that's already been filmed 40 odd years ago. But this is effective work - smart and intriguing and with Spielberg's natural sense for dramatic energy. It also picks the right place to start - not in Washington but in Vietnam, where the true impact of all these cover ups is felt in young men sent in to continue to fight a war their superiors already know is unwinnable. There's also a clever even-handedness in pointing out that neither political side has clean hands about Vietnam - that it was as much or more so Kennedy and Johsons's war as it was Nixon's.
This is the kinda thing that gets nominated for a bunch of oscars but probably won't win any. Which is to say it's middle-of-the road, but it knows how to drive that middle effectively and smartly.
One might quibble a bit, for instance, that Meryl Streep is made a tad naive about the nature of the newspaper business largely so that she can have an arc of discovering her own power, and that perhaps the top end of the paper gets a lot more attention than the day-to-day journalists and the source of the leak, plus the ending plays a little too knowingly as a setup for the historical sequel that's already been filmed 40 odd years ago. But this is effective work - smart and intriguing and with Spielberg's natural sense for dramatic energy. It also picks the right place to start - not in Washington but in Vietnam, where the true impact of all these cover ups is felt in young men sent in to continue to fight a war their superiors already know is unwinnable. There's also a clever even-handedness in pointing out that neither political side has clean hands about Vietnam - that it was as much or more so Kennedy and Johsons's war as it was Nixon's.
This is the kinda thing that gets nominated for a bunch of oscars but probably won't win any. Which is to say it's middle-of-the road, but it knows how to drive that middle effectively and smartly.
Friday 19 January 2018
All the money in the world
This is one of those cases where the making-of slightly overshadows the actual film. The much publicised reshoots to replace Kevin Spacey with Christopher Plummer with 10 days of shooting to meet a release date about a month after reshoots very much overshadow and feel way more dramatic than this slightly stodgy period film about the kidnapping of John Paul Getty III. This is neither tight enough to work as a thriller nor deep enough to work as a drama. In particular, the story keeps on being unsure precisely where to focus - we spend much of our time with Michelle Williams as the kidnapped boy's mother as she tries to negotiate some way of getting her boy free while her wealthy father-in-law (Plummer) refuses to finance his ransom, but there's continual cutaways to the kidnappers that don't really serve to either raise tension or provide much particularly dramatic.
Mark Wahlberg is also noticeably mis-cast in this as Plummer's chief negotiator - he never looks like he even vaguely fits in with this world of high privilege - Wahlberg can be quite skilled in roles where he either is innocently out of his depth or an infuriated rage monster, but as this kinda sophisticated internationalist, he's never convincing. Williams has more to do and in particular when sparring with Plummer she's got some meaty material to lock into. And Ridley Scott makes sure it all looks very ritzy. But in the end it's a flat thriller that fails to thrill, and a true story that manipulates history (in particular the ending takes several large leaps away from the actual events) for very little effect.
Mark Wahlberg is also noticeably mis-cast in this as Plummer's chief negotiator - he never looks like he even vaguely fits in with this world of high privilege - Wahlberg can be quite skilled in roles where he either is innocently out of his depth or an infuriated rage monster, but as this kinda sophisticated internationalist, he's never convincing. Williams has more to do and in particular when sparring with Plummer she's got some meaty material to lock into. And Ridley Scott makes sure it all looks very ritzy. But in the end it's a flat thriller that fails to thrill, and a true story that manipulates history (in particular the ending takes several large leaps away from the actual events) for very little effect.
Monday 1 January 2018
Top 10 of 2017
I do my top ten by year of release in Australia - so if it hasn't got a regular release here, it won't be included. And there isn't really any ranking here beyond "here's a set of ten films I think are worth watching".
Moonlight - Yeah, I know. It feels an incredibly obvious pick, and even, perhaps, a somewhat "worthy" choice - it's the "black gay son of a junkie" movie. But what works about this film is the little things - the establishment of the world through the eyes of a kid, the middle section as the teenaged version of that kid builds in tension to an unstoppable explosion of rage, and the closing section as the adult version sits down for a conversation so completely overflowing with subtext that I was on the edge of my seat waiting to see what could happen, only to be delighted that humanity and compassion and warmth won out. It's about growth and pain and damage and the smal ways that we get through. And it's absolutely that good.
Lady Macbeth - I am a sucker for any film that can bring a touch of grand guignol into the mix, and this one delivers in spades. It's a somewhat grim tale about an isolated woman who kicks back hard against the people who attempt to entrap and restrain her, but I loved seeing Florence Pugh as someone so determined not to be limited by what anybody else expected of her, and laser focussed on her revenges.
Logan Lucky - This is absolutely a light, fun diversion, and it's perfect as that. It's a caper film that realises the trick to the genre is that you've got to love the characters pulling off the caper as much or more so than the plot twists and turns of the caper itself, and in the mix of figures, whether it be the smart and disciplined Channing Tatum and sadsack Adam Driver as the central Logan brothers, or Daniel Craig's pure fun performance as demented explosives experts Joe Bang, or the multiple peripheral characters, you have people you like watching doing interesting things in a caper film that plays the game somewhat differently to how you might expect it.
Brigsby Bear - This is a loving film about fandom and devotion to childhood pop culture, for an era where that fandom and devotion seems to so often be the target either for mockery or for exploitation of that devotion for a quick buck and a marketing tie in. A story about discover the thing that's central to your life to is something no one else knows or understands, and about sharing his love with a gentle fervour that brings other people in and gives them their own space to be surprised and delighted, it's funny and delightful and, while being aware of the tinges of darkness that life has, suggests that they can be transcended. Beautiful.
The Florida Project - Another film with a child's eye view (I obviously have a weakeness for these when they're done well) about marginalised people in desperate straits and about how they try to live through them, flailing and flawed as they go through them. In the first ten minutes I thought I'd find these people genuinely hateful - an irresponsible kid who casually spits on other people's cars and her mother, a low-level scam artist who's barely getting by and has no impulse control whatsoever. But by the end of the film I found them full and real and fully dimensional - they have good and bad within them and they are so much more than just a set of defined circumstances. Sean Baker, between this and "Tangerine", is on my list of directors to watch like a hawk - he has that peculiar gift of making films about people on the margins that are living life on their own terms, and he takes them in fully, loving them warts and all. It's gripping and painful and warm and heartbreaking all at once.
The Last Jedi - This is a film that plays things very much its own way, which ... yes, is weird for a film that's also the 8th in a series made fully expecting a 9th to come along. But it takes a fresh look at a mythology 40 years in the making, including questioning some of the basic assumptions, to come up with a story that feels both eternal and spectacularly right for this moment in time. It's about coming to terms with the past, about looking to the future, about the world outside of the perpetual good-and-evil fights we've been watching for the last four decades, about desperate circumstances and dire acts. And yes, it's about hope. And it made my heart soar. I know it made other people's hearts crash, and I'm sorry they don't feel how I do. But it absolutely worked for me.
mother! - I will absolutely admit that this film is probably the most self-indulgent thing I saw all year in the theatre. When your film is simultaneously a metaphor for the creative process AND a metaphor for all of religion, pretension is not only unavoidable, its kinda the entire point. And I kinda loved it. It poked me, it prodded me, it made me feel uncomfortable, and as the world-in-a-house slipped into anarchy and apocalypse, I got more and more enthralled in the whole "I don't know what the hell this movie is going to do next"-ness. If you're going for this to see anything conventional - well, you shouldn't. But if you want to see something entirely nuts, this is indeed very good at going completely nuts.
Hounds of Love - This is a brutal little story about a girl kidnapped and kept by a couple in surburban Perth. What makes this interesting, and makes it work, is the emphasis on keeping all three characters human - the victim is not just a simpering piece of meat ready for destruction, she's a smart girl who made one wrong decision and works hard to get herself free, the husband of the couple may be a monster inside the house but it's achingly obvious how much of a mouse he is in the outside world, and the wife of the couple is shown as a participant with her own bitterness and broken needs. It's tense and gritty and plays what could be a deeply unpleasantly exploitative experience as something achingly human and sad and illuminating instead.
Colossal - A great example of taking what should be a ludicrous concept (woman discovers that when she walks through a particular playground near her childhood home, a giant monster imitates her movements in downtown Seoul), and making it both funny and surprisingly high stakes and emotional. Anne Hathaway plays our befuddled heroine at just the right point of confusion, and Jason Sudekis as the local bartender plays a role that develops angles and levels as the film moves from simple oddball comedy to something a lot more interesting. It's a weird example of the kind of film where talking about what it's about somewhat removes the pleasure in discovering what the film's got going on inside. But take it on trust, there's a very smart movie under a very silly premise.
Logan - This is not a perfect movie. In particular, the actual superhero plot, with Richard E. Grant as a nasty scientist, is a bit of a shemozzle. But there's such rich character work here in showing a pair of aged and broken men on the run in what both kinda know is going to probably be the last good thing they ever do, with both Hugh Jackman and Patrick Stewart taking characters they've been playing for fifteen years and pushing them to breaking point and beyond. It's a film that understands better than most that, while an ever-evolving narrative is a wonderful thing for box office, what audiences ultimately crave is a strong and definitive ending. And this is most definitely that ending, a superhero story that smartly understands that character and soul is ultimately what matters.
Moonlight - Yeah, I know. It feels an incredibly obvious pick, and even, perhaps, a somewhat "worthy" choice - it's the "black gay son of a junkie" movie. But what works about this film is the little things - the establishment of the world through the eyes of a kid, the middle section as the teenaged version of that kid builds in tension to an unstoppable explosion of rage, and the closing section as the adult version sits down for a conversation so completely overflowing with subtext that I was on the edge of my seat waiting to see what could happen, only to be delighted that humanity and compassion and warmth won out. It's about growth and pain and damage and the smal ways that we get through. And it's absolutely that good.
Lady Macbeth - I am a sucker for any film that can bring a touch of grand guignol into the mix, and this one delivers in spades. It's a somewhat grim tale about an isolated woman who kicks back hard against the people who attempt to entrap and restrain her, but I loved seeing Florence Pugh as someone so determined not to be limited by what anybody else expected of her, and laser focussed on her revenges.
Logan Lucky - This is absolutely a light, fun diversion, and it's perfect as that. It's a caper film that realises the trick to the genre is that you've got to love the characters pulling off the caper as much or more so than the plot twists and turns of the caper itself, and in the mix of figures, whether it be the smart and disciplined Channing Tatum and sadsack Adam Driver as the central Logan brothers, or Daniel Craig's pure fun performance as demented explosives experts Joe Bang, or the multiple peripheral characters, you have people you like watching doing interesting things in a caper film that plays the game somewhat differently to how you might expect it.
Brigsby Bear - This is a loving film about fandom and devotion to childhood pop culture, for an era where that fandom and devotion seems to so often be the target either for mockery or for exploitation of that devotion for a quick buck and a marketing tie in. A story about discover the thing that's central to your life to is something no one else knows or understands, and about sharing his love with a gentle fervour that brings other people in and gives them their own space to be surprised and delighted, it's funny and delightful and, while being aware of the tinges of darkness that life has, suggests that they can be transcended. Beautiful.
The Florida Project - Another film with a child's eye view (I obviously have a weakeness for these when they're done well) about marginalised people in desperate straits and about how they try to live through them, flailing and flawed as they go through them. In the first ten minutes I thought I'd find these people genuinely hateful - an irresponsible kid who casually spits on other people's cars and her mother, a low-level scam artist who's barely getting by and has no impulse control whatsoever. But by the end of the film I found them full and real and fully dimensional - they have good and bad within them and they are so much more than just a set of defined circumstances. Sean Baker, between this and "Tangerine", is on my list of directors to watch like a hawk - he has that peculiar gift of making films about people on the margins that are living life on their own terms, and he takes them in fully, loving them warts and all. It's gripping and painful and warm and heartbreaking all at once.
The Last Jedi - This is a film that plays things very much its own way, which ... yes, is weird for a film that's also the 8th in a series made fully expecting a 9th to come along. But it takes a fresh look at a mythology 40 years in the making, including questioning some of the basic assumptions, to come up with a story that feels both eternal and spectacularly right for this moment in time. It's about coming to terms with the past, about looking to the future, about the world outside of the perpetual good-and-evil fights we've been watching for the last four decades, about desperate circumstances and dire acts. And yes, it's about hope. And it made my heart soar. I know it made other people's hearts crash, and I'm sorry they don't feel how I do. But it absolutely worked for me.
mother! - I will absolutely admit that this film is probably the most self-indulgent thing I saw all year in the theatre. When your film is simultaneously a metaphor for the creative process AND a metaphor for all of religion, pretension is not only unavoidable, its kinda the entire point. And I kinda loved it. It poked me, it prodded me, it made me feel uncomfortable, and as the world-in-a-house slipped into anarchy and apocalypse, I got more and more enthralled in the whole "I don't know what the hell this movie is going to do next"-ness. If you're going for this to see anything conventional - well, you shouldn't. But if you want to see something entirely nuts, this is indeed very good at going completely nuts.
Hounds of Love - This is a brutal little story about a girl kidnapped and kept by a couple in surburban Perth. What makes this interesting, and makes it work, is the emphasis on keeping all three characters human - the victim is not just a simpering piece of meat ready for destruction, she's a smart girl who made one wrong decision and works hard to get herself free, the husband of the couple may be a monster inside the house but it's achingly obvious how much of a mouse he is in the outside world, and the wife of the couple is shown as a participant with her own bitterness and broken needs. It's tense and gritty and plays what could be a deeply unpleasantly exploitative experience as something achingly human and sad and illuminating instead.
Colossal - A great example of taking what should be a ludicrous concept (woman discovers that when she walks through a particular playground near her childhood home, a giant monster imitates her movements in downtown Seoul), and making it both funny and surprisingly high stakes and emotional. Anne Hathaway plays our befuddled heroine at just the right point of confusion, and Jason Sudekis as the local bartender plays a role that develops angles and levels as the film moves from simple oddball comedy to something a lot more interesting. It's a weird example of the kind of film where talking about what it's about somewhat removes the pleasure in discovering what the film's got going on inside. But take it on trust, there's a very smart movie under a very silly premise.
Logan - This is not a perfect movie. In particular, the actual superhero plot, with Richard E. Grant as a nasty scientist, is a bit of a shemozzle. But there's such rich character work here in showing a pair of aged and broken men on the run in what both kinda know is going to probably be the last good thing they ever do, with both Hugh Jackman and Patrick Stewart taking characters they've been playing for fifteen years and pushing them to breaking point and beyond. It's a film that understands better than most that, while an ever-evolving narrative is a wonderful thing for box office, what audiences ultimately crave is a strong and definitive ending. And this is most definitely that ending, a superhero story that smartly understands that character and soul is ultimately what matters.
Coco
Pixar has gone through some hiccups lately - whether it be the run of sequels and prequels that seemed noticably less inspired than some of their earlier work (the "Cars" series, "Finding Dory" and "Monsters University") or simply original films that didn't have the verve of the early Pixar films ("Brave" and "Good Dinosaur"). Since the formal merge with Disney, the distinct identities between the two companies have become blended, as Disney's Feature Animations have appropriated some of Pixar's verve, and Pixar's aged (as, I suppose a company that's now 22 years old is going to do) into something a bit more routine. It hasn't all been blandness ("Inside Out", for example, was a notable recent highlight) but it's slightly less special.
"Coco" does feel slightly more like Disney than Pixar (it's a continuation of Disney's international explorations after "Moana" explored Polynesia and "Frozen" explored Scandanavia, and music plays a strong part, including a couple of songs by the "Frozen" team of Robert and Kristen Lopez). In this case we're exploring Mexican culture, with a particular focus on the Day of the Dead celebrations, while telling the story of a young boy whose desire to break out into a musical career are threatened by family tradition, until he gets the chance to meet the ancestors who established those traditions in the first place. The land of the dead sections in particular are gorgeous setpieces of a fantastic world entirely populated by skeletons and animal spirit guides. It combines eccentric humour with a strong emotional payoff. If the plot twists are not entirely unexpected, there's still a sense that they are fully earned and exploited to the utmost.
I tend to think this is probably more a solid than a transcendent entry in Pixar's catalog (some of the early exposition is perhaps a little heavy-handed), but it's still quite reasonably entertaining and a good cinematic experience.
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