25 February 2009

Interested: I Love You Man

For those of us that loved Forgetting Sarah Marshall (and if you haven't seen it, don't rent it, just buy it) this might be a way to hold us over until Jason Segel directs the new muppet movie. Caution: The director John Hamburg has only made one movie. Along Came Polly. He did however, direct two episodes of Stella so we all have a fifty-fifty chance here. 

Milk


Milk, the newest film from Gus Van Sant about the charismatic force that was Harvey Milk, will leave you feeling inspired, touched, and full of life. It might come with a few tears, there is no secret about the ending, but every one of them is earned and elicited from perfect execution. 

I liked Milk more than I thought I would for a few reasons. One, Gus Van Sant is not what I would consider consistent filmmaker. By this I mean his approach and story choice, not his talent. (Wes Anderson, too gifted for his own good, keeps making the same movie, so I'm not knocking Van Sant, I just don't go running around watching movies because he directed them.) I was uncertain about what what the film might be like. Two, bio pics get under my skin with their formula — rise to power, abuse of power, demise — and since you almost always know how they will end, I feel as if I never need to see them again, let alone finish them. Milk lets these issues flow behind it like paper streamers; they're attached, but the film is much too far ahead for them to get in the way.

Milk is what you'd expect, only better. If you think it will be okay, it will be good, great, perfect even. It is a gorgeous representation of a time, city, and legend. Harvey Milk was a man like any other, so his utter perfection in this film (he's never mean, unpredictable, or wrong), is surely an exaggeration of the truth, but if you're bogged down by fact this may not be the movie for you in the firs place.

I'm curious about how straight men will feel about Milk. It's so full of love and romance, and all of it between guys. As a viewer, I was equally engaged watching men kiss and roll around in bed, as I am when a guy and gal, or even two women (I'm talking about cinema here) do the same. Let me know what you think.

On a side note I would like to recommend a little film called The Assassination of Richard Nixon. The main character Samuel J. Bicke, played by Sean Penn with astounding awkwardness, seems related to his Harvey Milk somehow, minus the super powers. Nixon also comes with a tape recorder and an art department dedicated to the seventies.

Milk Trailer

16 February 2009

Waltz With Bashir


If I had to choose one word to describe Waltz With Bashir it would be: profound. Everyone should see this film. I’ll admit I walked away a little more confused than when I went in, but the point of a documentary is to excite the brain into doing some research, entice it away from passive viewing. Bashir is at times hip and foreign (techno music is alive and well everywhere but the United States), while still maintaining the sense of gravity that is necessary for stories about death and war. It proves that other countries are using animation to tell tales of historical significance and sorrow (I’m thinking of Persepolis here), while America (with the exception of The Chicago 10) is stuck in the stigma that is following Wall-E like the plague. Animation is for kids, not best picture Oscars. Waltz With Bashir does some serious damage to the concept of the cartoon (this movie is NOT for children, or it is depending on how you want them to see the world) and when the director Ari Folman breaks from the form at the end, he does it to remind you that what you just saw may have looked like a fantasy land, but is in fact a very real and disturbing place. Did I mention that I thought everyone should see it?

09 February 2009

The Wrestler


I completely understand why Mickey Rourke won a Golden Globe, a BAFTA, and possibly an Academy Award for his performance in The Wrestler, the newest film from Darren Aronofsky (Requiem For a Dream, The Fountain). It’s also the first movie I’ve seen in a while that actually felt ‘independent’. (Although there’s really no such thing anymore.) Marisa Tomei bares all in this one. Her performance is very subdued, but just as realistic and moving as Mr. Rourke's, and although Evan Rachel Wood tries her best, it was this relationship that moved the least. With all this emotion flying around, I’m curious whether or not our feelings for Randy ‘The Ram’ Robinson come from the film or Mickey Rourke, who we also know to be a washed up and tired old man. This is a case of perfect casting and amazing talent, but it is also a case of mistaken identity. Are we watching a story about an actor or a wrestler? A little of both, I guess, because what makes Mr. Rourke’s performance so amazing is it’s degreeing levels of honesty. He bares his very soul to us in some terribly awkward scenes (exercise, tanning, bleaching) almost as if this whole movie were some sort of personal penance of his. I don’t know if he deserves to go to heaven, but I’m more than satisfied with an award or two.

The Wrestler Trailer