Showing posts with label Jude Law. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jude Law. Show all posts

Tuesday, March 18, 2014

The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014) – Review

Review: The Grand Budapest Hotel is a delightful adventure comedy/drama that encompasses all the intricacies and indulgences of (its writer, director, and producer) Wes Anderson’s style and puts them to their best use, creating a film that feels utterly joyous to behold. The film is about Zero Moustafa, the owner of The Grand Budapest Hotel and former Lobby Boy for the very same hotel. Now retired, Zero recounts his adventures with the hotel’s extraordinary concierge M. Gustave to an inquiring writer who is staying at the now rundown hotel. Their adventures took place during the early 1930s as Europe was about to be once again engulfed in war.

The narrative structure of the film is multilayered (reminding me of The Hours a bit – for those who have not seen the film, it takes place in three different time periods, all centered around Virginia Woolf’s Mrs. Dalloway; the first sees Woolf struggling to write the novel in the 1920s, the second features a melancholic suburban wife reading the novel in the 1950s, and the third revolves around a woman who very much encompasses the character and story of Mrs. Dalloway set in the present). The prologue and epilogue that bookend the film feature a young woman in present day paying her respects to the statue of a famous author, carrying a book entitled The Grand Budapest Hotel. The next layer sees the author in the 1980s making a recording of how he came upon the story of The Grand Budapest Hotel, leading to the next layer in which the author, now much younger, is having a conversation with Zero. The final layer sees Zero as a young man working as a Lobby Boy in the hotel. There are also two narrators, as there are essentially two perspectives: the first being the author’s and the second Zero’s. This all sounds complicated and very easily could have ended up a confusing mess, the narrative jumping around in time; yet, writer-director Wes Anderson skillfully manages the narrative and his use of two distinct narrators enables the audience to follow the story with ease.

The differences in time period are also expressed in a cool artistic/aesthetic manner. The aspect ratio changes depending on the time period, which does create some pretty striking cuts between time periods. That said, the change in aspect ratio is probably something that is only “cool” to students of film (I am curious if average moviegoers even notice the change). Anderson also uses special effects (miniature models, rear projection, and other older techniques) to give the film a feel similar to films from the 1930s. All in all, the whole thing looks and feels a bit like it takes place in an elaborate children’s book, but with a sharp edginess, startling violence, and cursing.

Like Anderson’s other films, The Grand Budapest Hotel is a treat of brilliant and colorful aesthetics. Anderson has created a quirky romantically nostalgic world – a world that maybe only ever existed in the imagination/memory of those classic films from the 1930s. While Anderson does borrow from others (the film has elements from Jean Renoir’s La Grande Illusion, Alfred Hitchcock’s Vertigo/Bernardo Bertolucci’s The Conformist, Ernst Lubitsch’s Trouble in Paradise, and Yasujiro Ozu, among others), he makes it all his own. The film has a unifying style that is very evident and specific.

Often in the past, critics of Anderson’s work have called his specific style alienating, as if he were merely creating pretty lifeless dioramas. With The Grand Budapest Hotel, Anderson’s style is again in full swing, but the film seems to have a broader appeal than his past works. Is this due to the momentum building off the breakout success of Fantastic Mr. Fox and Moonrise Kingdom (which both also saw general moviegoers take a bigger interest)? Is it the film’s fantastical world that just glistens with Golden Age nostalgia (something that worked well in Woody Allen’s Midnight in Paris)? Or, is it the film’s overall jovial feel, mixed with elements of adventure, mystery, and romance/friendship? Probably all three. The film, too, resembles Anderson’s own work, particularly The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou and The Darjeeling Limited (other examples of Wes Anderson style adventure films); yet, those two were not nearly as well received (however, I do love them both and count them among my favorite films). The Grand Budapest Hotel, however, feels a bit more accessible than those two.

In many ways, The Grand Budapest Hotel feels like a grand film: almost like a tall tale of larger than life characters leading extraordinary lives (other modern examples would be The Curious Case of Benjamin Button and The Life of Pi). Anderson does a fabulous job mixing biting humor and absurdist humor with a tone that is light and creates a fun experience for the audience, but also has an undercurrent of sadness to it. Much in the way we look back at fond memories. They were happy times, but they have come and gone and we can never go back.

The set of eccentric characters that is featured in the film is also a lot of fun. M. Gustave is just electrically dynamic. It is hard not to be pulled in by his charisma. Meanwhile, Zero makes for a great straight man and in for the audience. Although the characters are all a bit off, Anderson still makes them relatable, because the themes of the film and the desires of the characters are all very much relatable. The audience is dazzled by the aesthetics, charmed by the humor, but left satisfied by the development of the central characters and their relationships with each other.

The Grand Budapest Hotel is wonderfully compelling not just because of its visuals, tone, characters, or ambitious narrative but because Wes Anderson weaves all these elements together, creating what feels like a magical world; yet, one filled with relatable characters (even though they are all a bit fantastical) and emotions. It is probably not too early to call it a strong contender (if not lock) to be among 2014’s ten best films (it is that good).


Technical, aesthetic & acting achievements: Wes Anderson has now made eight feature films; each film seemingly becoming more and more steeped in Anderson’s all-consuming style (a style that is part French New Wave and part Ozu with a few other things thrown in too). It is a style that I really enjoy because it is clear that Anderson cares about and is very much in tune with every aspect of his narrative, actor performances, visuals, and accompanying music. Every detail is specifically designed. This is a trait of only the truly great filmmakers, whom I consider Anderson among. I also love Anderson’s sense of humor, a dry crisply edgy wit. Upon one viewing it is difficult to name The Grand Budapest Hotel as his best film as a few have (for me, at present, it probably stands number four); however, it is so rich and spectacular that I can see it only blossoming with even more radiance with each additional viewing (there is also apparently a George Clooney cameo I missed – though this is unconfirmed).

Wes Anderson is known for his aesthetic, but he is a very collaborative filmmaker. He often works with the same people over and over (both actors and other technical crew members). Composer Alexandre Desplat scores the film – his third collaboration with Anderson – turning in his best score with Anderson to date. It is a wonderful mix of infectiously festive/lighthearted pieces, rousing adventurous pieces, and somber dramatic pieces, all with a very Prussian feel (while also seemingly somewhat building off his score for Moonrise Kingdom). His score sets the tone for the film very well and perfectly accompanies the visuals – and it needed to more than past Anderson films, as this film only sparingly uses found music (and they are all classical pieces). Robert D. Yeoman returns as Anderson director of photography, their seventh collaboration. As always, the look of the film is perfect – from the lighting to the framing and camera moves. Here, however, Yeoman has to create a film that feels both classic and modern in its visual approach, and he pulls it off splendidly. Production designer Adam Stockhausen, working with Anderson for the third time (second as production designer), does his best work to date with the filmmaker as well. Some of the credit does go to the beautiful locations that the film takes advantage of, but for the most part it is Stockhausen, working with Anderson and his art department, who creates the magnificent sets and mise en scene. The film is a visual splendor.

The film is also stuffed with fun performances from a stellar cast (most appearing in brief roles). The highlights among the small roles include: Tilda Swinton who is quite remarkable as the elderly Madame D. (can you be nominated for an Oscar for less than five minutes of screen time?), Edward Norton who is funny and endearing as Henckels, Tom Wilkinson who is just right as the older version of the author, Jude Law who is great as the young version of the author, Mathieu Amalric who is sniveling as Madame D.’s head servant Serge X., Adrien Brody who is wonderfully snide as Madame D.’s awful son Dmitri, Willem Dafoe who is the embodiment of a classic henchman as Jopling, F. Murray Abraham who is touching and mannered as the older version of Zero, and of course Bill Murray who is a lot of fun as the concierge of another grand hotel. Saoirse Ronan plays Agatha, a local cake baker and candy maker, who gets wrapped up in the adventures of Zero and M. Gustave after she falls in love with Zero. Ronan plays Agatha to be a little more pragmatic than the other characters in the film, not as quick to just jump in; but, she is very brave and very lovely. Ronan’s strong performance is a crucial element in fully pulling the audience into the narrative on an emotional level. Tony Revolori gives what could be a breakthrough performance as the younger version of Zero, and arguably the film’s main character (though he is not as flashy as M. Gustave). Revolori acts almost as a wall, allowing the other characters (primarily M. Gustave) to bounce off him. He grounds the film and gives the audience a way into the world. It is very good work.  And then there is Ralph Fiennes who is completely and wonderfully brilliant as M. Gustave, giving one of his best performances to date (up there with his characters Amon Goeth, Charles Van Doren, Count Laszlo de Almasy, and Lord Voldemort). M. Gustave is played to be exceedingly charming, always pulling all focus towards himself. He is the biggest and loudest presence in a position in which most might consider small and quiet. It is certainly to be among this year’s best performances.


Summary & score: The Grand Budapest Hotel encompasses everything fans of Wes Anderson love about his films, while incorporating just enough nostalgia, humor, and positive buzz to attract the masses as well. This very well could be Anderson’s biggest critical and commercial hit to date. 9/10

Tuesday, February 12, 2013

Side Effects (2013) – Review


Review: Side Effects is a thriller that constantly manipulates audience expectations with each twist. The film is about Emily Taylor, a young woman that seems to be suffering from depression. Her husband Martin has just been released from prison. After an apparent suicide attempt, Emily is treated by Dr. Jonathan Banks who tries her on a number of medications before finding one that seems to work, however Emily begins to sleepwalk as a side effect. One evening Martin comes home to find Emily in the kitchen making dinner, but she is asleep. When he tries to wake her, she stabs him to death with a cutting knife. Who is to blame? Emily? Dr. Banks for keeping her on the medication? The drug company? But not all is as it seems. There are some spoilers in this review, best if you see the film first.

Director Steven Soderbergh is an intelligent filmmaker who understands storytelling, and what the audience expects given what a certain kind of narrative tells them – what they pick up consciously and subconsciously. With Side Effects, Soderbergh seems to be playing a game with the audience, constantly managing their expectations and changing their perception of the characters – which is really what the best ‘twist’ thrillers do: you think you know who the characters are and what is going on, but then everything changes.

Soderbergh also seems interested in raising concerns or questions about how depression is dealt with by the healthcare system in America (which is likely corporate run at this stage). Before the film starts to throw out plot and character twists, it seems to be a subtle (or maybe passively aggressive) attack on this system. Healthcare professionals just seem to drug their patients with whatever the latest pill is (or whichever they are being paid to promote) without really addressing the root cause of the depression. Just about every character in the film seems to be on something to help them manage (be it beta-blockers, anti-depressants, or sedatives). Emily experiencing grave side effects leading to a tragic death seems to call into question the whole system and who is at fault. Each participant in the system seems to be shifting the blame. While Soderbergh does not clearly attack the drug companies, doctors, or our society in which pill-taking is commonplace, the whole system and cycle feels dubious at best.

However, the film then shifts as Dr. Banks’s life falls apart, as he is left holding the short stick in the blame game. He desperately wants to find out what happened, feeling like he did not make a mistake. Soderbergh sets his struggle to find the truth up as a man driven mad by loss, grasping at straws, driving away the people in his life even more. His claims seem baseless and are getting more and more outlandish, as he thinks there is a conspiracy against him. The audience believes that Emily is the victim and Dr. Banks very well could be to blame (he seems like a corporate stooge at one point, taking money to peddle their drugs). Soderbergh has done something interesting here. The film begins and Emily is the protagonist. The audience connects with her struggle with depression, trying to cope with her life and the pressure of her husband’s return. Thus, Dr. Banks to some extent feels like the villain. He is too busy with his own life to really pay enough attention to his patient Emily, and thus made a mistake that cost her dearly. Then, he begins to make claims against her, naming her as the chief architect in the conspiracy against him. This turns him into even more of a villain, as again the audience is behind Emily. However, Soderbergh then starts to introduce cracks in Emily’s story and Dr. Banks seems like he might be making sense – maybe he is on to something. Suddenly, Soderbergh has changed the audience’s expectations. At first the film was a drama about Emily dealing with a tragic event and maybe and raising social issues about the pharmaceutical company/healthcare system relationship, and now it is a mystery that Dr. Banks is trying to solve with Emily as maybe the villain. It is not often that a film can have its protagonist and antagonist switch places without missing a beat.

Soderbergh continues to play with the audience as the film develops and their perception of the characters changes. The characters and what the audience thought the film was are completely different by the end. Ultimately the film plays as a thriller, as the narrative becomes a cat and mouse game between Emily and Dr. Banks. Soderbergh’s mastery of narrative filmmaking is essential to the film being fluid amidst all the plot twists and narrative tone changes. He structures the narrative to build, as more information is told to the audience.

However, this is a thriller without much action – setting it apart from a genre that seems to have become an offshoot of the action genre – in terms of explosions, gunplay, and physical altercations (as there are none, which I found refreshing). This is a thriller of wits (like the classic thrillers of old – The Third Man and Notorious to a couple from the 1940s). But, for some, it may play a little slow due to the lack of action (especially in the first half before things start to pick up with the plot twists).

Side Effects sees Soderbergh doing a lot with one film. It is somewhat a psychological thriller (as Dr. Banks feels his world slipping away), a drama about depression, a questioning look at the healthcare system (in regards to their management of patients with social issues and pharmaceutical companies’ role in the system), a character drama (as Emily and Dr. Banks are both well-conceived and developed), and a plot twist driven thriller. It is an entertaining film that engages the viewer’s mind as well. And, as it develops, Soderbergh’s storytelling ability reveals itself to be quite marvelous.


Technical, aesthetic & acting achievements: Steven Soderbergh has announced that Side Effects will be his last film (at least for the next few years), as he plans to focus on television. It is a fitting way for him to go out, as it is one of his best films (especially from a narrative standpoint).

Soderbergh also shot the film, something he often does. The cinematography has a very stylized look, with soft focus and haloing lights. Matched with Howard Cummings’s production design, which is very much grounded in reality, it gives the film sort of a heighted sense (like not everything is as it seems). Thomas Newman’s score is also very good, perfectly fitting the tone shifts.

Like most of Soderbergh’s films, the cast is very good, giving very naturalistic performances. Channing Tatum has a small role as Martin (and used as a bit of a red herring), but it is important as his performance brings a lot of credibility to Emily (setting her up initially as the protagonist and victim). Catherine Zeta-Jones plays Emily’s former doctor. She plays her character to be seemingly powerful and confident, but really out of her depth and insecure. Jude Law is great in the film (Soderbergh gets very good work out of him – see Contagion). Law plays Dr. Banks and has a range of emotions he must go through over the course of the film. But what he does very well is make the audience believe that he is both the villain and the hero at different moments (which is vital to the film’s success). Rooney Mara continues to show herself as one of the great young talents in Hollywood right now. She is fantastic in the film. Emily seems initially completely vulnerable and weak, but as the film goes on it is all just a measured act (it reminds me of Edward Norton’s brilliant work in Primal Fear, though the revelation is not so grandiose in this film).


Summary & score: Side Effects is a good thriller, as it constantly changes the audience’s perception as it develops, built on great performances from its leads and nimble storytelling from its director. 8/10

Tuesday, December 11, 2012

Anna Karenina (2012) – Review


Review: Anna Karenina is highly ambitious, lush and phenomenal – a completely insane adaptation of a literary masterpiece. The film is about Anna, a Russian aristocrat in the late 19th century who throws away everything to engage in an affair with Count Vronsky.

Most literary adaptations are fairly straightforward – some rigorously follow their source material, while others take liberties. With Anna Karenina, Leo Tolstoy’s novel is immensely dense with rich detail and tons of characters. It is not just about Anna and her story; it is about Tolstoy’s Russia at that time and place, every nuance and intricate facet of daily life. Deciding that trying to make a completely faithful adaptation of such an extensive work would probably lead to a dull film (and still not quite do it justice). Instead, director Joe Wright has made something entirely different and brave.

Anna Karenina seems a prime candidate to be just a straightforward period drama/costume drama (and Wright has done well making films like that in the past), but his adaptation is dangerously ambitious (much like say The Clash’s Sandinista! or the Wachowskis and Tom Tykwer’s Cloud Atlas from earlier this year) and highly stylized. Taking such a bold risk leaves the film exposed to be very polarizing (something some will find brilliant and others very frustrating). Fans of the book that want a very faithful adaptation (who seem to fail to understand that film is a different medium than that of a novel and thus stories should be told in different ways) will likely not like the film.

Wright sets the film really in two areas – for Moscow and St. Petersburg, the scenes take place inside a theatre with actors moving between changing sets, backdrops and artifices. Characters play their roles within society and government, as scripted by the social conventions of the time. While all the time, in view of an audience (the other members of the society) constantly watching their every move. Everything is a tempered act put on for the benefit of others. The poorer people of the cities occupy the rigging and catwalks, while the grand ballrooms and government halls take center stage. The theatre is used as a metaphor by Wright to express the restraint and superficiality of Anna’s world – nothing is real. Wright’s camera is also an active part of these scenes, vigorously gliding through the sets and around characters (almost in a whirlwind). At first, this whole concept is strange and even unsettling, but as the film progresses and the audience becomes accustom to the world of the film it becomes common and not as noticeable (making the final shot of the film more staggering – almost as if the audience has forgotten that all the action in the cities has been confined to a theatre with nothing but fake backdrops).

The second area that Wright uses is a much more naturalistic space, which accompanies Levin when he returns to his country home and works in his fields (they are actual fields). Wright does this to both juxtapose the differences in city and country life and to illustrate the difference between Levin (a romantic) and those wrapped up in the high society life of the cities (where everything seems just a show put on, void of deeper emotion). Visually, Wright makes sure to give the countryside a very sweeping natural beauty (as opposed to the subterfuge of the changing theatre sets).

Wright’s film is also very much about love. He focuses on two stories: Anna’s affair with Vronsky and Levin’s love of Kitty. Anna begins the film naïve to love. She is happy because she does not really know what it is, that is until she meets Vronsky and feels something so strongly that she risks her place in society (a society completely constructed and ruled by men) to be with him, seemingly to forget or not care that she is but a player on the stage, and that everyone is watching her. Vronsky is very charming, but never feels completely trustworthy as a hero (someone that will not break Anna’s heart, like say Levin is to Kitty). This feeling that the audience has translates to Anna’s perception of Vronsky as well. She never completely trusts him, which sends her into fits of jealousy and self-destructive behavior, and yet she loves him above all else leading to her losing everything to be with him. In the construct of Wright’s narrative (the cities being staged in a theatre), Anna goes off book. She does not say the lines she is given and hit the marks laid out for her. She disrupts the order of things and thus stands out amongst the others and becomes an outcast. There are scenes as well with her husband Karenin who seems out of step in his own realm (in the government meetings) when he faces the truth about Anna’s affair. Wright’s narrative and visual structure for the film visually illustrates just how disruptive Anna is in such a rigid society of social rules.

Levin seems lost in the society in the city, constantly calling on Oblonsky (Anna’s brother, a man who constantly cheats on his wife and yet is still accepted among his peers) for help to fit in. His love is Kitty, a young woman just debuting in society. Kitty is fascinated and lured in by the colors and spectacle of it all. She does not see that it is all superficial, and rejects Levin initially. But, she comes to see the flaws of her beloved high society and is hurt and jaded by the lack of true emotional connection. Thus, when Levin realizes that she is his true love and tries to win her heart a second time, she accepts. When Kitty moves with Levin away from the fixed structure of the city and into the naturalism of the country, she throws off the strict terms that governed her conduct, allowing her true self to shine (a person with a kind heart). While Anna and Vronsky’s story ends in tragedy, condemned by the aristocracy, Levin and Kitty strive. This again can be taken as juxtaposition between the intransigent and shallow society of the city and the warmth and community of the country (also expressed by Levin working the fields with his serfs).

Visually, the film feels a bit frantic, as Wright’s camera is constantly moving at a brisk pace and the sets are constantly changing on the fly as characters move between spaces. However, the end result of all this kinetic energy is that Wright has formulated the film as an emotional ballet (of visual splendor). The production design also plays into this, as the colors and costumes very much represent the characters. Anna, in particular, has an array of beautiful outfits – their color scheme seemingly matching her mood, while Vronsky is primarily in white (saving her from a life without love) until he leaves her. Levin wears earthy tones and Kitty loses her refined garments once she takes on her life in the country. All of Wright’s visual choices support the narrative.

Now, with all this visual radiance and spectacle and Wright’s imposed narrative device, what about the characters? This film is not easy on the audience. First, they must adjust to Wright’s cinematic world (which takes a few scenes, because he does not ease the viewer into it – everything flies at the viewer all at once). Then, the audience is introduced to tons of characters, many of which play small but specific roles. However, Wrights does do a great job with his main characters, though at the same time Anna’s motivations may seem not spelled out enough for some viewers. She lives in a marriage somewhat void of real affection, attraction and love. Thus, when Vronsky (who also happens to be very handsome) courts her, she is taken in by him and feels things that she never has before, which drives her decisions. While the audience pities her, as she loses everything, she is not overly likable (like Kitty or Levin), which then makes it more difficult for the audience to strongly connect with her (which is why Wright gives a lot of screen time to Levin and Kitty as well). She is just someone who thinks she is above the rules and ultimately pays a heavy price.

Anna Karenina is a classic tragedy, adapted many times over, but maybe never as ambitiously and visually stimulatingly as this.


Technical, aesthetic & acting achievements: Joe Wright has always had a knack for using a very fluid camera, from the dancing/party scenes in Pride & Prejudice to the action scenes in Hanna, as well as his fantastic long takes in his films (notably in Atonement). In Anna Karenina, Wrights seems to have built off his work in Hanna (which was his most visually aggressive film before this). Much like the final scene in Black Swan in which the camera seems to dance with Nina, his camera here seems completely untethered, free to roam anywhere and everywhere, seamlessly transitioning between sets as characters move in and out and backdrops change. It is breathtaking. While most filmmaking, especially in Hollywood (but it is also true among indie films), seems to be becoming more conventional, it is relieving to see an auteur who is still willing to take big risks, and with this film they have paid off.

Dario Marianelli’s score has a wonderful Russian vibe to it (as it probably should). It is beautiful, as it anticipates and accompanies the emotional turmoil and triumphs of the characters. It feels both intimate and extravagant in different moments, much like the film itself (here is a suite). Seamus McGarvey’s cinematography is exquisite, elegant and magnificent, especially when the film takes on a more naturalistic look (where the use of light is angelic). Sarah Greenwood’s production design, however, steals the show (which is saying a lot as Marianelli and McGarvey both deliver some of the year’s best work). The array of colors is astounding. Each costume (designer by Jacqueline Durran) or set is wonderfully crafted to fit the tone of each character or scene (reminding me at times of David Lean’s Doctor Zhivago).

The cast is dazzling as well, with tons of great little bit parts and strong leads. Matthew Macfayden and Ruth Wilson (who is almost unrecognizable, at least she was for me – knowing her solely as the scene stealing Alice on Luther) stand out in small roles. Both Domhnall Gleeson and Alicia Vikander deliver breakthrough performances as Levin and Kitty, respectively. While most of the characters seem to be shallow and void of deeper emotion, Gleeson and Vikander exude a longing for true connection (which is why, ultimately they find each other). I expect they will both be receiving lots of acting gigs in the next few years. Jude Law has the difficult role of playing Karenin, a man who feels but actively tries to shut himself off from his emotions. His performance is understated and wonderful. Aaron Taylor-Johnson has all the charisma and bluster to make a great Vronsky. He also has a terrific mischievousness to his performance that work very well. Keira Knightley has found her niche in costume dramas. She is ravishing, magnificently gowned in a lush and elegant wardrobe throughout. But she does more than just look the part. Knightley captures the extreme fits of anguish and joyous highs of Anna’s affair with Vronsky, eliciting pity and in the end even heartbreak among the audience as Anna’s life comes to a tragic end. It is another excellent performance from her collaborating with Wright.


Summary & score: Anna Karenina is not going to work for everyone, as it is sure to garner opposing reactions among viewers. However, for those willing to take it in, it is an artistically rewarding and narratively grand experience. 8/10 

Tuesday, December 20, 2011

Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows (2011) – Review

Review: Sherlock Holmes: A Game of Shadows is a very fun action film that in many ways surpasses the first. The film finds Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson on the trail of their greatest nemesis Professor Moriarty. The best aspect of this film is the relationship (and the scenes between) Moriarty and Holmes. They play off each other extremely well, and are the main reason this is one of the better action films of the year. Plus, their scene together at the climax of the film is phenomenal. Director Guy Ritchie is maybe a bit over indulgent in the style that he has created for the Sherlock Holmes franchise. There is a lot of slow motion (and by a lot I mean A LOT). However, while this should get old quickly, the artistry of the mise en scene during many of these slow motion shots, and the way each frame is designed, is fantastic (especially when Holmes and crew are being chased through the forest with mortars going off). Other aspects of the film are a bit exaggerated as well. Holmes is almost a caricature of himself with countless sight gags and an over-the-top performance by Robert Downey Jr (almost bordering on Johnny Depp’s Captain Jack Sparrow in the later Pirates of the Caribbean films). That said, his character still works in the framework of the narrative for two reasons. Ritchie has built the series around the infusion of humor, and thus some silliness is not only expected but encouraged. And, Holmes is grounded as a character, despite all his antics, because his relationships with Moriarty, Watson and Irene Adler feel real and have a truth to them – thanks to great performances and chemistry among the actors. Also to Ritchie’s credit is how well he paces the film. He continuously keeps the narrative moving, with building tension and great action set pieces. While the film lacks a strong mystery aspect to it (which could be taken as a huge flaw in the film – as Sherlock Holmes is the world’s greatest detective so of course a film with him should have a fantastic mystery plotline to it – and probably should be), the film is too much fun to be overly concerned with the fact that the audience knows everything from the beginning (more or less) and does not have to figure anything out. Plus, some of the principle characters (specifically Simza Heron) are pointless on a deeper level and only serve to forward the plot. Ritchie also takes full advantage of his actor’s comedic skill and does a great job with the humor, as the film is quite funny at times, but he also still manages to have the stakes feel real and does not lose the overall tension of the narrative – again thanks to good performances and chemistry (plus, again, the showdown between Holmes and Moriarty is brilliant and makes the film really a success). A Game of Shadows is a highly entertaining film that also manages to keeps its characters feeling real. It is a lot of fun to watch.


Technical, aesthetic & acting achievements: Guy Ritchie has probably made his most entertaining and rewarding Hollywood film with A Game of Shadows (though it is not quite as good as Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels). He has found a good balance between his own aesthetic style and creating good characters that exist in entertaining narratives (something lacking in many of his recent films). Hans Zimmer’s score is brilliant (like almost all of his recent work). It is likely to be among the most deserving but overshadowed scores of the year (plus, he took himself out of the running for the Oscars). It is both intense and playful with the character (here is a sampling). Philippe Rousselot’s cinematography is also top notch. (As state above), his shot compositions, working with Ritchie, are very good. They have so much kinetic energy and yet still capture the beauty of the surroundings and the gravity of the situation. Sarah Greenwood’s work (she is becoming one of my favorite production designers) is also very good, matching the tone and feel of the piece perfectly. Ultimately, even given the fame of the character, this is a star vehicle, and in so much should contain an iconic star performance. Downey Jr. has done just that with both the Holmes films. Here, while he is a bit on the caricature side, he brings life and complexity to the character, portraying his gift as a curse and playing jokes to hide the pain. Jude Law is great as Watson, and really his performance is essential to grounding the over-the-top nature of Downey Jr.’s Holmes. Jared Harris is the perfect choice to play Moriarty. He is himself not menacing in a physical way, but his face and line delivery inflict so much weighted terror that he is completely believable as the world’s greatest criminal mastermind. He is in every way a wonderful match to Downey Jr., which he absolutely needed to be for the film to work. Stephen Fry is quite funny and Noomi Rapace is decent, both playing grievously under-written characters (though, they do forward the plot and are not the focus of film). Fry however makes up for his lack of true character with a wonderful performance, the same cannot be said for Rapace. Kelly Reilly and Rachel McAdams are both good in their small but important appearances.

Summary & score: A Game of Shadows is one of the most entertaining films of the year, mainly in a purely spectacle sense but also due to the excellent chemistry and portrayals of Holmes and his greatest nemesis Moriarty. 8/10

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

Contagion (2011) – Review

Review: Contagion is a really well made film both from an aesthetic and storytelling standpoint, as it seems to be grounded (more so than many films, especially studio films in this genre) in reality. Events evolve and play out how they probably would, given such an outbreak of a deadly disease did occur (stipulated to the same factors as in the film). It is this realism that makes the film work as well as it does. The narrative structure that director Steven Soderbergh employs sees the narrative jump around the world between multiple characters – giving a broad more global sense of what is going on. The cost of this decision is that the film does not feel like a thriller in the truest sense (at least not all the time), and this is due to there being many characters that the audience only briefly gets to know – the last of connection lessens the stakes. Mitch Emhoff might be an exception, and the scenes involving him and later his daughter have the most emotional impact and thus work the best in a thriller-like capacity. However, while Soderbergh does forgo a strong emotional connection with the audience (though, Emhoff’s character is used well as a narrative throughline, and a good touchstone for the audience’s emotions), he is aware that the story and the narrative style in which he unfolds the film is enough to engage the audience (and he is right). It also helps that the ensemble cast gives great performances (and all feel real and fleshed out to the extent their limited screen time will allow). Contagion thusly works better as a drama than a thriller; however the thrilling aspect of it is in the sheer devolution that the planet faces and encounters in the wake of the outbreak, as it grows, which is greatly helped by the realism Soderbergh uses. I would even argue that the narrative that Soderbergh retains is even more compelling than if he had stayed solely with the Emhoff character (which probably would have been a more thrilling film – a bit like 28 Days Later…, but without zombies – sort of, I mean those infected are sort of like zombies in a sense). As it is, Soderbergh can show the audience the drama of such an epidemic on a much grander and scarier scale (though, again, impersonal), and having the film so rooted in reality makes it all the more frightening, on a much more intellectual level than most disaster films (which this could be classified as). The narrative is more about will humanity survive than just one character (but, as stated above, we do get to see how one family copes with the drama of what is happening to the world, because to some degree we do need that connection to a character). True thriller or not, Contagion is a very good disaster drama, that surprisingly, given the genre, feels genuine.


Technical, aesthetic & acting achievements: Steven Soderbergh can probably be classified as an auteur director, due to his style and quality as a filmmaker. Though his background is in indie film, his best work seems to come from the films he makes in Hollywood (Traffic, Ocean’s Eleven, Out of Sight, and Contagion – which is probably my favorite of his films). He also produced and shot the film, and his cinematography has never been better (and at times reminded me of the work he did on Traffic – especially when the setting was Mexico). However, the production design by Howard Cummings and the fantastic score by Cliff Martinez really solidify the world of Soderbergh’s drama. With things like 28 Days Later… and The Walking Dead as reference (the film looked and sort of had the same tone as a zombie film, maybe that is why I keep coming back to them as references), Cummings is able to both stay in line with what the audience expects the world would look like in complete disarray, but also gives the film its own unique sense of realism that fits the narrative perfectly. Martinez’s score (sample here) sets the tone really well (again getting back to zombie movies, it sort of reminded me of a toned-down, more dramatic Hans Zimmer-like version of Marilyn Manson’s Resident Evil score at times, sample here versus Contagion here, with a great use of tribal drums). I liked it a lot. The cast is also very good, many with limited character work. Laurence Fishburne, Jude Law, Marion Cotillard (who is fantastic with almost no screen time), Jennifer Ehle (who gives possibly a film-breakthrough performance for her career), and newcomer Anna Jacoby-Heron are great in support. Kate Winselt is wonderful and tragic in her supporting role, and Matt Damon is good as always in the lead (in a character that fits right in his dramatic wheelhouse).

Summary & score: Contagion is a disaster thriller that is more frightening than thrilling, as it play much more as a drama. Regardless, however, it is very compelling. 8/10

Monday, January 4, 2010

Sherlock Holmes (2009) – Review

Sherlock Holmes is a fun time at the theatre. The film lives and breathes on its characters, especially Holmes and Watson. Robert Downey Jr and Jude Law bring the characters to life, maybe not how one would expect, but they are amusing, have great chemistry and ultimately save the film from being just another mindless buddy Hollywood action outing. The issue with the film is the story and some of the characters are only there to set up the next film, which can still work, but here it creates some narrative structure problems. The ending of the film (the final showdown between Holmes and Blackwood, not the epilogue that follows it) seems to just happen, there is not sense of build up, no expectation, leaving the viewer feeling like there was more to come (and there is if you consider the sequel), but not so much in a cliffhanger way, more of a this story feels stunted and incomplete, thus it organically feels like there is more (but there is not, at least not with Blackwood). Guy Ritchie (who has made a series of bad films following his first two good films) must be pretty happy to have had such a great cast, saving him from yet another blah film. His visual style (slightly copied from The Hughes Bros.’ From Hell, but not quite as dark) works well, and Ritchie does use his camera well, though the editing is a bit awkward at times. Hans Zimmer delivers another very good score, which fits quite well with the tone and the material. Back to the performances, as they are the point, and why someone should want to see this, Downey Jr is nothing short of great, though he seems to have mixed a bit of his own oddball acting with a dose of Captain Jack Sparrow. Law, on the other hand, feels very much like a Ritchie character, and is played very well, complimenting Downey Jr’s work perfectly. Their chemistry alone is enough to build a successful franchise on. Rachel McAdams is good, but her character is fairly pointless, other than to set up the villain of the sequel. And Mark Strong, who is always good, really does not have all that much to do, but still makes a suitable villain, though the story could have used a bit more direct interaction between Holmes and Blackwood. Another issue, arising from the Blackwood character is that it was interesting and kind of cool that the dark magic seemed real, putting Holmes and Watson off their element, making the revel feel like a let down, and overall hurting the story. Eddie Marsan and Kelly Reilly are good in their small roles (it is nice to see Reilly get in a big American movie, I hope she gets more roles here in the future as she is generally very good). So at the end of the day, Sherlock Holmes is very entertaining, but hollow, surviving (if not succeeding) on the fine work of its actors. 7/10