Forget the fine Batman catalog, if forty year old Christoper Nolan had absolutely nothing else to his credit except Memento and this film, he'd still qualify for legend status.
The action meant little to me. The crumbling buildings; the sideways, gravity-defying hotel machinations, I'll forget. What will remain is the same cognisance of memory, loss, guilt, and self-delusion that Memento explored.
We often long for moments past, wishing we could have them back. But Nolan's movies reveal that even when time can be shuffled and rearranged like a deck of cards, pulling the past forward, bringing it back, causes more pain than it heals. And the funny thing is, the happy memories hurt just as much as the sad ones, when all they do is remind you of their inaccessibility.
Inception played into a long-running obsession of mine with the novel Time Traveler's Wife. I've spent hours wondering how, wondering if, Henry and Claire could have met again after his death and before hers. They met in her past. Could he have found a path into her future? I reasoned that because time passed slower when Henry was time-traveling. If he disappeared for 2 months in "real time" he could have been time-traveling in the future (with his mourning widow) for up to 10 years. I used this fantasy to give myself the happy ending that the book itself denied me.
So, I was immediately fascinated with the idea that the dreamers in Inception, could spend years in a dream, while a mere hour passed in the wakened world. Of course, there's always a price to pay for the time you lose here and gain elsewhere, as anyone from Jack Finney to Daphne Du Maurier (The House on the Strand) can tell you.
As the movie began, switching from one dream to another, I was afraid it would be another Mulholland Drive or Vanilla Sky, where excessive fantasy minimized your interest in the "real" characters, to the extent they even existed. However, in Inception, even if you don't know much about their lives, these people have defined personalities, concerns and motivations which remain static, even if everything around them constantly changes. Even if you lose sight of the physics, the emotion keeps you grounded and gripped.
Leonardo DiCaprio is Cobb. He has mastered the art of extraction, the practice of entering someone's dream and stealing their deepest secrets. It was a technique first developed by the military, but it now used in the private realm for more opportunistic purposes. Cobb organizes teams for his dream heists. They design a dream to be inhabited by their victim's subconscious projections. While an architect can design the building and places in a dream, the dreamer is the one responsible for creating the people who populate it, through his subconscious imagination.
Once the dream thieves enter the subject's dream, share it, playing roles to dupe the dreamer into divulging his deepest hopes and fears. It's a class con, not unlike what you'd expect from David Mamet. It simplty takes place in the psychedelic realm.
After a job goes bad, the company that hires Cobb puts a hit out on him. But that's the least of his worries. He was already a wanted man. He had to escape the United States, after being charged with the murder of his wife Mal (yes the "bad" connotation is intended). He went on the lam to France, leaving his two small children in their grandparents' care. He longs to return to them. Saito (Ken Watanabe), a shady businessman who actually thwarted Cobb's most recent mind theft attempt, was nonetheless impressed. He offers Cobb the chance to return home. He asks Cobb to reverse his extraction talents. Instead of taking information from someone's dream, plant an idea, create the seed of thought. Commit inception.
Cobb's right-hand man Arthur (Jordon Gordon-Levitt, making anyone who watched him for years on 3rd Rock from the Sun immensely proud of his career growth) immediately declares that inception's impossible. It can't be done. Cobb knows it can. He's done it before. Once.
Saito promises that if Cobb's successful in doing it again, he'll pull strings, make the criminal charges disappear and leave the customs door open for Cobb to return to his family. Despite its enormity, Cobb accepts the assignment. All he has to do is use a dream to implant the idea into the brain of Saito's competitor (Robert Fischer, Jr., playing by Batman's Cillian Murphy) that Fischer should sell off the company that he inherited from his father, rather than continuing the family empire.
Cobb and Arthur get to work assembling their dream team. Cobb is not as nimble as he once was. Recently there have been psychic stumbles. He's haunted by his dead wife, who plagues his thoughts (and thereby every dream he has, enters or shares with others) and methodically sabotages all of his dream schemes. Consequently, Cobb can no longer design dreams himself, because everything he knows about the dream environment, Mal (in his subconscious) also knows and she will use that information to destroy the dream world and alert Cobb's would-be victim to the intended theft.
Cobb needs an outside architect and goes to his father-in-law Miles, a professor, to find one. Miles selects a architectural student who is even more advanced than Cobb was at her age, Ariadne. On their very first trip into dreams together, Ariadne discovers that Cobb has as little control of his dreams as he does over his life. As they share a dream, Mal enters and immediately tries to kill Ariadne. Usually being killed in a dream only wakes the dreamer up. So, Ariadne was not in mortal danger from Mal, but she quickly realizes that anyone who dreams with Cobb (literally and figuratively) is at risk and tells him she wants no part of the Inception.
But Cobb knows that the lure of the dream world is addictive. Now that Ariadne has been exposed to it, she won't be able to stay away. He is proven right. Ariadne joins Arthur as part of Cobb's dream team. First job is to make a totem for herself. It's the definitive "pinch me, tell me I'm not dreaming." After all, dreams feel real when you're in them, right? How do you tell the difference? How do you identify reality? You use a totem. An object that Ariadne knows inside out, texture, weight, dimension. An item that she can feel in her dream, test for substance and detail. If it feels false in any way, she'll know she's dreaming. Cobb's totem is a metal spinning top. In a dream it will spin indefinitely. When it topples over, he knows that he's awake, in his real life. You aren't supposed to let anyone else handle your totem, because that defeats the purpose, doesn't it. Cobb uses his dead wife's totem. Our question is, will always be, whether that makes it a less accurate totem for him or not.
Ariadne fashions a chess piece as her totem. She is a PAWN.
Ariadne's choice of totem suggests that Cobb has used her from the beginning, not for the Inception job, but to design a dream that is so real, he won't be able to distinguish it from reality. The ones he creates himself are too familiar to serve this purpose.
Next, Cobb finds a chemist who can make a drug strong enough to produce the ultimate hat trick: three dreams in one. Cobb wants to use a dream within a dream within a dream to get deep enough inside of Fischer's psyche to make Fischer think the idea of selling his father's company originated from so deeply within, he'll never suspect that it was the product of dreamwork. Cobb recruits Eames to act in the dream with him and Arthur (whom Eames deems unimaginative). Finally, Saito himself insists on joining the band of con artists, because he wants to make sure his job succeeds smoothly.
The quintet then devises 3 complex dreams to share with Fischer, all to further a new form of corporate espionage: changing your rival's mind. Cobb's inception techniques are not like brainwashing. You don't indoctrinate or train. You use what's there already. The need and insecurity. The Freudian desires. Instead of exploiting, you satisfy them. Instead of breaking Fischer mentally, you build him, patch up the broken pieces. Fischer's relationship with his father was troubled. He never had dad's approval. Cobb aims to make Fischer think he will somehow gain that approval, the affection he craved, by selling his deceased father's company. It could be argued that the dream team is not stealing from Fischer, so much as giving to him.
Before they embark on the dream plot together, Ariadne insists that Cobb be honest with her. Why does he use drugs to dream, even after working hours. Why is Mal, his subconscious, out to kill him? He and Mal went dreamtripping together once and they got trapped in the dream, for what seemed like 50 years. Who wants to be in a dream for 50 years, Ariadne wonders?
Cobb explains that he discovered that she had a secret she wanted to escape. Something she'd repressed. When they finally emerged back into reality, Mal didn't believe it, didn't want to face it. She thought reality was the dream and she wanted to awaken from it (to escape back into the world of dreams and repression). She wanted to kill herself, to end the life she perceived as a "dream" and she wanted Cobb to join her. He refused. He tried to convince her that by killing herself, she would be ending her life, not ending a dream. She'd be leaving him and their children. She didn't accept it. She killed herself, but framed Cobb for the crime, so that, facing life in prison, he would choose to kill himself too and they could then return to their dream world together. Cobb did not follow her in death. He continued to live a life haunted by her and that's why she terrorizes him in his dreams. Mal is his guilt. She's the part of him that refused to die when she did.
Ariadne is determined to stay with Cobb, throughout their schemes on Fischer, to protect him and everyone who shares the dreams with him, from the violence his mind projects as Mal. She gives Cobb an ultimatum. Either she stays with him or he has to share with the others, everything he's told her. Apparently, Cobb is not willing to do this. So, he allows Ariadne to stay by his side. Yet, I'm not convinced that Arthur doesn't know everything already. He's been working with Cobb a long time. He's been in Cobb's dreams when they've turned violent, invaded by a Malicious Mal. In fact, Arthur has suffered as a result. Although, when you die in a dream, it only causes you to wake up, when you're hurt in a dream, you feel pain in the dream, just as you do in real life. Arthur was physically tortured when Mal broke into Cobb's last dream scheme. Arthur suffered because of her. Yet, he continues to work with Cobb. Why?
Arthur's totem, the symbol he has chosen to identify his reality, is one loaded DIE.
Our band of six merry men (and woman) assembled, when Robert Fischer boards a plane to travel to America for his father's funeral, they are on it with him. In fact, Saito has purchased the entire airline, so they can easily impersonate fellow passengers. Once the flight takes off, Cobb deftly drugs Fischer's drink and the dreams begin.
In the first dream, the team kidnaps Fischer. However, Fischer is not a stranger to extraction. It was Arthur's job to conduct all of the background research, but he somehow failed to discover that Fischer is not your average dreamer. He's a veteran. He received military training on the extraction technique and his mind knows how to defend against it. His subconscious wages an attack on the people who have invaded his dream and Saito is injured in the gunfire that results.
At first, the team doesn''t think Saito's wound is significant. After all, if he dies, all that will happen is that he'll awake from his dream, right? Wrong. Apparently, the drug that Cobb has used for this plot is so unusually strong, that if you die in your dream, you're too far under to wake up. Instead, you enter a dream limbo. You can remain there for years, decades. That's where Cobb resided with Mal for 50 years. Once you finally do wake up, even though only a few hours have passed in reality, your brain is so scrambled from all of the time that you spent in the dream realm that you lose sight of reality. You go insane as Mal did -- as Cobb may be.
If Saito dies in this dream, his body may live on, but his brain will be dead when the dream is over.
The others wonder why Cobb and the chemist did not tell them that there was the risk of being trapped in a dream limbo for a life time. Cobb retorts that he didn't think there was any chance of them dying in the dream, so he had no reason to tell them about limbo. After all, Cobb didn't know that Fischer's defense projections would be shooting at them in the dream. It had been Arthur's job to find out everything about Fischer and Arthur failed. The danger they're in can't be blamed on Cobb, can it?
The team fears they'lll all be killed by Fischer's psyche, but Cobb decides to outsmart it. Using a maneuver that has failed before, Cobb plays "Mr. Charles" a character who alerts Fischer to the fact that he is indeed in a dream. Charles convinces Fischer that his god father (played by Tom Berenger) is the enemy trying to learn the combination to the Fischer family safe. The god father has hired extractors to steal that information from Fischer's brain. But what is inside the safe, Fischer wonders? Fischer himself has no idea.
Fischer isn't consciously aware of possessing secret information, but Cobb promises to help him uncover it. Essentially, by assuring Fischer that he is on his side against the bad guys who would steal his secrets, Cobb (Mr. Charles) convinces Fischer to join the dream team and to actually help them to get inside of Fischer's subconscious. Id, ego, superego? They'll lift the layers of Fischer's mind together, delving deeper into his subconscious, until they find the combination to his safe -- the key unlocking Fischer's troubled relationship with his father.
The team works against time (or the drug that will wear off and wake Fischer before Inception has been completed), to get Fischer to the point in his dream where he will "sponataneously" come to the conclusion that he should sell his father's company. The players are scrambling through 3 levels of dreams simultaneously. They all encompass the same time span, but it moves at different paces per dream. Two minutes = 20 minues = 2 hours. The farther you sink into a dream, the more time it seems has passed.
Arthur's efforts to synchronize the equilibrium trigger (sense of falling) that will force them all to awake from each of the 3 dream levels, is visually arresting, as he works without gravity. But if you've seen Fred Astaire in Royal Wedding, you've seen this. To me, the film's action elegantly decorates the drama, but is not what propels it.
As they rush to beat the awakening, Ariadne demands to know the basis for the guilt that spurs his subconscious Mal to continue tormenting him. Why did a train appear out of nowhere in the dream they were sharing and threaten to crush them to death?
Cobb confesses that he's succeeded with Inception once before. He succeeded with Mal. There was a secret from her past that she repressed. When it was uncovered, she didn't want to face it. Reality was too much. To help soothe her, he is the one that convinced her that their dream was a reality. He thought it was just a coping mechanism. They killed themselves in their dream. They lay on a train track and as the locomotive approached them, he told her that it didn't matter which rain the train was headed, the destination was unimportant as long as they were together. The train then ran over them, but death didn't make them wake up. They were too heavily drugged for that. So, death in the dream left them in a dream limbo that lasted for 50 years. They grew old in that dream together, an old couple walking down an empty world, hand in hand. When the drugs finally wore off and they returned to reality, after decades in the dream, Mal had lost her grip on sanity. Because of him, because he told her the dream was real. She killed herself to keep from returning to the waking world as a result.
After revealing the truth to Ariadne, Cobb faces the Mal of his subconscious. He tells her he loves her and misses her more than words can say, but he won't join her in death, because he owes their children more. She has already abandoned them. He will not. Mal won't accept this. She struggles with Cobb. He stabs her, killing the wife of his dreams. Does he kill the guilt that has crippled him along with her?
Ariadne believes he has. She thinks Cobb will be fine now. He has stared down his demons.
Meanwhile, Fischer has opened the safe. He has found the combination that will unlock the relationship with his father. In the safe are a will and a wheel. The will states that Fischer should sell his father's company and chart his own life, rather than being imprisoned by his father's legacy. The wheel is a pinwheel, a souvenir from the one happy moment that Fischer spent with his father in childhood. His father saved that pinwheel all of that time, just as Kane saved Rosebud. This proves to Fischer that his father loved him. Loved him and wanted him to sell the company. Inception has succeeded.
Mission accomplished we return to the plane, where everyone on the team is prepared to awake. But first the flashback that opened the film is repeated. Cobb is at a table with a lonely old man, full of regret. He raises his ancient head to look at Cobb and it reminds him of someone from his past. Someone he knew as a young man. Someone who was an expert at extraction . . . Cobb recognizes the old man too. It's Saito. Saito has been stuck in dream limbo for decades. It is Cobb's job to rescue him, by making Saito realize it's a dream and giving him the means to wake himself. The old man reaches for a gun and kills himself, allowing Saito to return to reality and wake up on the plane with the others, mind intact.
Saito is so relieved that Cobb returned to help him escape from ages of dream limbo, that his mercenary scheme to have Fischer sell his company seems irrelevant at this point. Saito hurriedly picks up the phone, pulling all strings necessary to allow Cobb to return to the United States with the threat of criminal prosecution no longer over his head.
They all enter the airport. Cobb nervously submits his passport to customs. He is cleared, "Welcome back, Mr. Cobb," the agent murmurs. Cobb's father-in-law is waiting for him at baggage claims. They go home. As they enter the house, Cobb reaches for his totem. He spins it to make sure it topples over, to make sure he is awake, but then he sees his children. He calls out to them. They turn and he sees their face. Something he never lets himself see in dreams, because he doesn't want to get lost in the illusion. He runs to them, leaving his totem spinning on the table. It does not stop. Fade to black.
The opening credits fill the screen, crowning such a cinematic accomplishment that you want to stand and applaud, as you do when the cast takes its final bow in a play.
Was Cobb dreaming? I think so, because his kids happened to be wearing the same clothes that they wore in his dreams. The same clothes that he wore before escaping to Europe to avoid prison. He broke his own rule. He used his own memories to build his dreams and that's why he was able to so fully lose his grasp on what was real and what was illusion. He may even have done this on purpose.
So, yes the reunion at the end was a dream, but does it matter? Not if Cobb had finally found peace, not if he could live in that dream happiness for another 50 years. If a dream is as real as life, but without the stress and sadness, then why should we ever try to leave them?
Ariadne had Cobb convinced that he had faced his guilt over Mal's death. But maybe the guilt he conquered was that caused by the thought of leaving his children. Maybe he finally let himself abandon them to a fatherless reality, so that he could succumb to the dream in which Mal was still alive and they were raising their family together.
Of course, that begs the question: why did Mal need to run in the first place? What was in her past that she did not want to face? It had do with her childhood, because the secret resided in a dollhouse, because when Cobb and Ariadne passed the house where Mal grew up in a dream, he quickly, curtly assured Ariadne that Mal would not be in it. What happened to Mal when she was a girl and did it involve Miles, her kindly father (Michael Caine)? Or was it related to Mal's mother, someone who is never seen in the dream, but only heard in the background of a phone conversation, after which she abruptly cuts off Cobb's call with his children.
Was the real crime that Cobb committed leaving the children in the care of the same parents who may have permanently scarred their mother?
Guilt and its nature, it's origiin. The questions persist. Could Cobb have been more directly responsible for Mal's death than he told Ariadne. He stabbed her in his dream? Could he have killed her in reality? After all, that's what he was accused of, that's why he was a fugitive from justice. Cobb told Ariadne he was accused of killing his wife and then thanks her for not asking if he did. But we should ask.
Oh, Cobb takes us back to the same place where Leonard left off in Memento. It's Nolan's infinite loop. Ten years between the two movies, but we end up at the same place. Memory, dreams. Cobb and Leonard may be lying to themselves more than to anyone else. Yet, where subjectivity and perception exist, there can never be one truth anyway.
Truth is an illusion and reality . . . is everything we see and seem, but a dream within a dream? Once you remove consciousness of time and space, everything you've been, are and will be, exists at once. Everything lost is restored (Cobb) -- or lost repeatedly (Leonard). The choice is yours.
Wednesday, July 21, 2010
Monday, July 12, 2010
It's Complicated (2009)
I would say that this was one of the better romcoms of late, especially in terms of the dialogue which sounded natural and insightful, without being predictable. Time and time again, the characters voiced a thought that had me nodding in affirmation, a stark departure from most Hollywood comedies which trade on the characters' stupidity. So often movies that involve divorced couples recreate The War of the Roses. This pair displays more respect towards each other than revenge.
Meryl Streep was likable, if giggly, as Jane Adler, a pleasant, warm version of Martha Stewart. Jane's ex-husband Jake is, by now, a stock character for Alec Baldwin, half charm, half smarm.
The Adlers have spent their 10 years of divorce in a cold war, maintaining a polite, but formal distance. But they find themselves booked at the same hotel for their son's graduation, imbibe at the lobby bar, share memories, then a dance floor and wind up in bed.
Feeling foolish after the rendezvous, Jane does her best to avoid the amorous Jake, but he is persistent, constantly cornering her. Since the audience has been told that the Adler marriage ended when Jake (now 58) cheated on Jane with a woman in her thirties (his current wife Agnes), one wonders why she would allow herself to be reeled in. He seems to be using her now as much as he did back then, since -- at first -- he doesn't broach the subject of a reconciliation with Jane but seems content to cheat, stimulated by the subterfuge. Even if he is willing to dump the domineering Agnes and her demon spawn (Jake's obnoxious 6 year old stepson), why should Jane be willing to rescue him from the "my wife doesn't understand me" dilemma, when he has painted her as the intolerable wife in the past? Why indulge someone who is constantly questing for the other side's greener grass?
Finding herself "the other woman" for the first time, Jane is torn between doubt and desire and discusses her indecision with her perennial trio of friends. This notion of the social quartet, the group of four friends who constantly share all of their ups, downs, and adventures during coffee (or cosmoplitans) and conversations is a purely fictional construct. It exists only in movies and tv. After high school, no one hangs out regularly in friendly groups of four -- unless they're playing bridge. Still Jane confides in her de rigueur BFFs and is told to go for it.
More surprisingly, Jane's psychologist also tells her to proceed with the affair, deciding that it can't hurt anything. What?! Sleeping with an ex-husband who is now married to someone else, raising a 6 year old boy and actively trying to conceive another child, could potentially hurt many things, Jane, her children, and Jake's new family, not least of all. If Jane has been counseled by this quack for the last 8 years, it sounds like she has a strong claim for medical malpractice.
Spurred by this bad advice, Jane casts hesitation aside and rushes headlong into Jake's waiting tryst. It's only when he stands her up that she decides to end it. She then starts dating Steve Martin's, Adam, a fellow divorcee who is also her architect.
In the movie's most forced and contrived scenes, Adam and Jane decide to smoke pot before attending her son's graduation party. As they stumble around high and silly, hijinks are supposed to ensue, but actually don't. It's after the party, when the marijuana has them looking for munchies, that Jane and Adam share their most enjoyable moments, baking chocolate croissants in her closed bakery. It's a sensual exchange, but not in the 9 and a 1/2 weeks food frenzy sense. Rather the simple intimacy of the two people, flour and fingers rolling together, fumbling to find the oven rack, unveiling the finished pastries and finally consuming what they've created together is the perfect metaphor for a relationship's evolution.
Warming to this new romance, Jane confesses to Adam that she had been seeing someone, but promises that it's over.
The next day, Jake shows up at Jane's door, saying he's ended his marriage to Agnes and needs a place to stay. Although Jane surmises that Jake was probably kicked out and didn't leave Agnes on his own, her children are moved by his feigned loneliness and insist that Jake be allowed to spend the night at their house. Although Jane repeatedly rebuffs Jake, he refuses to take "no" for an answer, easily his most obnoxious character trait. However, what's even more aggravating is that, until now, Jane has never meant "no" when she's said it. She's always let Jake change her mind, so quickly that even he wonders why she feels the need to perfunctorily reject him at first, when they both know she doesn't mean it. He wonders if she thinks that he'll stop respecting her if she just says yes the first time. Given the fact that her resolve has repeatedly folded like a house of cards, Jake's arrogance is almost forgivable. Almost.
Things come to a head when Jake disrobes and slips naked behind Jane's computer, not realizing that she'd been using it to webcam with Adam. Adam gets the full Monty on his computer screen. Jane comes in and screens, the kids are alerted and soon everyone knows about Jake and Jane's short-lived affair. Even though Jane quickly tells the kids (all adults) that she has no plans to reunite with their father, they react hysterically and end up huddled in bed together, crying like orphans. With grown kids as psychotic as these, Jane's love life suddenly seems to be the least of her problems. She tells them that she has to do what's right for herself and, after telling Jake it's definitely over, tries to make amends with Adam.
While the movie had some major missteps, its saving grace were that -- aside from suporting players like Alice and Pedro -- no one was a caricature. Yes, Jake was a smooth talking jerk, but he was also a fount of weary wisdom. well aware of his own flaws and frequently willing to admit them in a manner that was sincere, rather than manipulative. Yes, he tried to pull a few fast ones, but Jane was intelligent enough to see through them. So no harm, no foul. When they both admit that although they may have wanted their fling to mean something, there was something artificial and forced about it, Jane notes that their efforts at reunion might have worked better if he hadn't been married. Jake answers that if he hadn't been married, there might not have been a fling at all. He knows better than anyone that it's his displeasure with his present life that made the one he left behind years ago seem more attractive. Yet, when he compliments Jane, his words seem earnest and not just an attempt to get her into bed. This is especially true when he points out his own physical shortcomings.
In one nice exchange, Jake wonders why Jane has taken to calling him "Big Guy." Is it because he's tall or is it because he's gotten fat? It sounds like a joke, but it's played for honesty, not a punch line. Jane softly reflects that she doesn't know why she started using that nickname, but she'll stop since it bothers him. These really feel like two people who have known each other for 30 years and have often hurt each other in that time . . . but don't do it deliberately.
Jane acknowledges that it wasn't Jake's infidelity alone that broke them up. She bore some responsibility too, but the affair made it easier to assign all the blame to him. But such revelations don't just come at the end of the movie, in time for its happy ending. Jane and Jake have been insightful throughout. Their consistent thoughtfulness made the film's quiet humor far sharper than the (marijuana fueled) gags. As Jane's new suitor, Adam wasn't Ralph Bellamy to Jake's Cary Grant. Adam was precise, without being nerdy. Jake was suave, without being perfect. All three managed to swerve around the expected stereotypes, steering clear of the Philadelphia Story/ High Society endings that have now become cliched.
Some of the movie's screwball moments felt contrived. Indeed, the segment where the Adler's son-in-law-to-be discovers their affair, but scrambles to hide it from their daughter, smacks of the type of antics last scene in California Suite. But coming from talented actors who play it low key, rather than comedians who hit you over the head, even wacky works.
In the end, you're left with pretty nice character pieces. Complicated? Maybe not, but frequently compelling.
Meryl Streep was likable, if giggly, as Jane Adler, a pleasant, warm version of Martha Stewart. Jane's ex-husband Jake is, by now, a stock character for Alec Baldwin, half charm, half smarm.
The Adlers have spent their 10 years of divorce in a cold war, maintaining a polite, but formal distance. But they find themselves booked at the same hotel for their son's graduation, imbibe at the lobby bar, share memories, then a dance floor and wind up in bed.
Feeling foolish after the rendezvous, Jane does her best to avoid the amorous Jake, but he is persistent, constantly cornering her. Since the audience has been told that the Adler marriage ended when Jake (now 58) cheated on Jane with a woman in her thirties (his current wife Agnes), one wonders why she would allow herself to be reeled in. He seems to be using her now as much as he did back then, since -- at first -- he doesn't broach the subject of a reconciliation with Jane but seems content to cheat, stimulated by the subterfuge. Even if he is willing to dump the domineering Agnes and her demon spawn (Jake's obnoxious 6 year old stepson), why should Jane be willing to rescue him from the "my wife doesn't understand me" dilemma, when he has painted her as the intolerable wife in the past? Why indulge someone who is constantly questing for the other side's greener grass?
Finding herself "the other woman" for the first time, Jane is torn between doubt and desire and discusses her indecision with her perennial trio of friends. This notion of the social quartet, the group of four friends who constantly share all of their ups, downs, and adventures during coffee (or cosmoplitans) and conversations is a purely fictional construct. It exists only in movies and tv. After high school, no one hangs out regularly in friendly groups of four -- unless they're playing bridge. Still Jane confides in her de rigueur BFFs and is told to go for it.
More surprisingly, Jane's psychologist also tells her to proceed with the affair, deciding that it can't hurt anything. What?! Sleeping with an ex-husband who is now married to someone else, raising a 6 year old boy and actively trying to conceive another child, could potentially hurt many things, Jane, her children, and Jake's new family, not least of all. If Jane has been counseled by this quack for the last 8 years, it sounds like she has a strong claim for medical malpractice.
Spurred by this bad advice, Jane casts hesitation aside and rushes headlong into Jake's waiting tryst. It's only when he stands her up that she decides to end it. She then starts dating Steve Martin's, Adam, a fellow divorcee who is also her architect.
In the movie's most forced and contrived scenes, Adam and Jane decide to smoke pot before attending her son's graduation party. As they stumble around high and silly, hijinks are supposed to ensue, but actually don't. It's after the party, when the marijuana has them looking for munchies, that Jane and Adam share their most enjoyable moments, baking chocolate croissants in her closed bakery. It's a sensual exchange, but not in the 9 and a 1/2 weeks food frenzy sense. Rather the simple intimacy of the two people, flour and fingers rolling together, fumbling to find the oven rack, unveiling the finished pastries and finally consuming what they've created together is the perfect metaphor for a relationship's evolution.
Warming to this new romance, Jane confesses to Adam that she had been seeing someone, but promises that it's over.
The next day, Jake shows up at Jane's door, saying he's ended his marriage to Agnes and needs a place to stay. Although Jane surmises that Jake was probably kicked out and didn't leave Agnes on his own, her children are moved by his feigned loneliness and insist that Jake be allowed to spend the night at their house. Although Jane repeatedly rebuffs Jake, he refuses to take "no" for an answer, easily his most obnoxious character trait. However, what's even more aggravating is that, until now, Jane has never meant "no" when she's said it. She's always let Jake change her mind, so quickly that even he wonders why she feels the need to perfunctorily reject him at first, when they both know she doesn't mean it. He wonders if she thinks that he'll stop respecting her if she just says yes the first time. Given the fact that her resolve has repeatedly folded like a house of cards, Jake's arrogance is almost forgivable. Almost.
Things come to a head when Jake disrobes and slips naked behind Jane's computer, not realizing that she'd been using it to webcam with Adam. Adam gets the full Monty on his computer screen. Jane comes in and screens, the kids are alerted and soon everyone knows about Jake and Jane's short-lived affair. Even though Jane quickly tells the kids (all adults) that she has no plans to reunite with their father, they react hysterically and end up huddled in bed together, crying like orphans. With grown kids as psychotic as these, Jane's love life suddenly seems to be the least of her problems. She tells them that she has to do what's right for herself and, after telling Jake it's definitely over, tries to make amends with Adam.
While the movie had some major missteps, its saving grace were that -- aside from suporting players like Alice and Pedro -- no one was a caricature. Yes, Jake was a smooth talking jerk, but he was also a fount of weary wisdom. well aware of his own flaws and frequently willing to admit them in a manner that was sincere, rather than manipulative. Yes, he tried to pull a few fast ones, but Jane was intelligent enough to see through them. So no harm, no foul. When they both admit that although they may have wanted their fling to mean something, there was something artificial and forced about it, Jane notes that their efforts at reunion might have worked better if he hadn't been married. Jake answers that if he hadn't been married, there might not have been a fling at all. He knows better than anyone that it's his displeasure with his present life that made the one he left behind years ago seem more attractive. Yet, when he compliments Jane, his words seem earnest and not just an attempt to get her into bed. This is especially true when he points out his own physical shortcomings.
In one nice exchange, Jake wonders why Jane has taken to calling him "Big Guy." Is it because he's tall or is it because he's gotten fat? It sounds like a joke, but it's played for honesty, not a punch line. Jane softly reflects that she doesn't know why she started using that nickname, but she'll stop since it bothers him. These really feel like two people who have known each other for 30 years and have often hurt each other in that time . . . but don't do it deliberately.
Jane acknowledges that it wasn't Jake's infidelity alone that broke them up. She bore some responsibility too, but the affair made it easier to assign all the blame to him. But such revelations don't just come at the end of the movie, in time for its happy ending. Jane and Jake have been insightful throughout. Their consistent thoughtfulness made the film's quiet humor far sharper than the (marijuana fueled) gags. As Jane's new suitor, Adam wasn't Ralph Bellamy to Jake's Cary Grant. Adam was precise, without being nerdy. Jake was suave, without being perfect. All three managed to swerve around the expected stereotypes, steering clear of the Philadelphia Story/ High Society endings that have now become cliched.
Some of the movie's screwball moments felt contrived. Indeed, the segment where the Adler's son-in-law-to-be discovers their affair, but scrambles to hide it from their daughter, smacks of the type of antics last scene in California Suite. But coming from talented actors who play it low key, rather than comedians who hit you over the head, even wacky works.
In the end, you're left with pretty nice character pieces. Complicated? Maybe not, but frequently compelling.
Monday, July 5, 2010
Iron Man (2008)
Just getting around to seeing this one. Downey's wry, eloquent Iron Man wry, seems like a less (obviously) inebriated version of his Sherlock Holmes.
I don't think I've ever seen a film where the Superhero took an hour just to become the title character. It's also unique that Iron Man's first feats take place in the Middle East, making him a truly global hero. Although this movie is no more realistic than other comic book films, because Iron Man's power comes from a manmade suit and not the paranormal and because his initial enemies are ripped from the headlines and not the Marvel pages, he seems somehow less cartoonish than Superman, Batman and Spiderman.
When Tony Stark is captured while touring with troops, having him seized and hooded calls those Taliban beheading clips to closely to mind. Later he is waterboarded and, clearly the act is one of torture, not an interview technique. Upon his escape, this wealthy defense manufacturer realizes that he has prospered by supplying arms that are being used to kill Americans. Grounding the story in a plain Gulf War (I)/Haliburton context that makes allegory unnecessary.
Before the movie descends into a battle between machines (Stark's and a larger "Iron Man" inhabited by Jeff Bridges), it is distinguished by its talk and tone, more than its toys.
Of course Stark, an inventor and designer, has futuristic technology at his fingertips. But we get the most fun hearing him banter conversationally with his robots, who have obviously been programmed with his own dry wit. He treats them as part friend/part pet.
Pepper Potts (Gwyneth Paltrow) is his trusted assistant. Where friendship and trust exist, it seems immaterial whether they connect romantically and so their flirtation seems almost perfunctory, but never unpleasant. While being a womanizer is par for Stark's playboy course, I'm not sure why he also has to treat his conquests so shabbily, making it a point not to see or remember them after a dalliance. Pepper assists him with the ditching or, as she calls it, "taking out the trash." This seems especially harsh when the woman to whom the taunt was directed happened to be a conscientious, investigative reporter who pressured Tony into ending his company's wrongs. While the Brown graduate displayed little intelligence in sleeping with Stark, in doing so, she was hardly more trashy than he.
The little moments that gave me the most laughs were a tv clip with a histrionic Jim Cramer telling a Mad Money audience to dump Stark stock and Tony giving a quick hello to an elderly Hugh Hefner.
The movie ended on a befitting note of quirkiness, which both set up the sequel and emphasized Tony Stark's appealing blend of ego and ethos. He does the unexpected and publicly admits to being Iron Man because: (1) he was told not to, (2) he wanted the credit, and (3) he didn't want to lie. Not necessarily in that order.
I don't think I've ever seen a film where the Superhero took an hour just to become the title character. It's also unique that Iron Man's first feats take place in the Middle East, making him a truly global hero. Although this movie is no more realistic than other comic book films, because Iron Man's power comes from a manmade suit and not the paranormal and because his initial enemies are ripped from the headlines and not the Marvel pages, he seems somehow less cartoonish than Superman, Batman and Spiderman.
When Tony Stark is captured while touring with troops, having him seized and hooded calls those Taliban beheading clips to closely to mind. Later he is waterboarded and, clearly the act is one of torture, not an interview technique. Upon his escape, this wealthy defense manufacturer realizes that he has prospered by supplying arms that are being used to kill Americans. Grounding the story in a plain Gulf War (I)/Haliburton context that makes allegory unnecessary.
Before the movie descends into a battle between machines (Stark's and a larger "Iron Man" inhabited by Jeff Bridges), it is distinguished by its talk and tone, more than its toys.
Of course Stark, an inventor and designer, has futuristic technology at his fingertips. But we get the most fun hearing him banter conversationally with his robots, who have obviously been programmed with his own dry wit. He treats them as part friend/part pet.
Pepper Potts (Gwyneth Paltrow) is his trusted assistant. Where friendship and trust exist, it seems immaterial whether they connect romantically and so their flirtation seems almost perfunctory, but never unpleasant. While being a womanizer is par for Stark's playboy course, I'm not sure why he also has to treat his conquests so shabbily, making it a point not to see or remember them after a dalliance. Pepper assists him with the ditching or, as she calls it, "taking out the trash." This seems especially harsh when the woman to whom the taunt was directed happened to be a conscientious, investigative reporter who pressured Tony into ending his company's wrongs. While the Brown graduate displayed little intelligence in sleeping with Stark, in doing so, she was hardly more trashy than he.
The little moments that gave me the most laughs were a tv clip with a histrionic Jim Cramer telling a Mad Money audience to dump Stark stock and Tony giving a quick hello to an elderly Hugh Hefner.
The movie ended on a befitting note of quirkiness, which both set up the sequel and emphasized Tony Stark's appealing blend of ego and ethos. He does the unexpected and publicly admits to being Iron Man because: (1) he was told not to, (2) he wanted the credit, and (3) he didn't want to lie. Not necessarily in that order.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Despicable Me (2010)
This movie is neither feast, nor fowl. Not enchanting enough for children or sophisticated enough for adults.
While the simplistic story fits a younger audience, visually the animation and action wouldn't be enough to hold and capture their attention -- except for the minions! Steve Carrell is the voice for Gru, a washed up villain who is being usurped by younger evil doers. In fact, one upstart just stole The Pyramids right from under Egypt's nose and if Gru doesn't want to lose his reputation entirely, he's got to surpass that feat. He comes up with the idea to steal the moon, but realizes that is a costly endeavor that will take a large bank loan.
Seeking financing, Gru goes to Evil Bank ("formerly Lehman Brothers"). That was the best line in the movie and clearly geared towards mature audience members, but that's about the only sight gag the film offers. You won't need to rewind this one to catch speeding subtleties as they whizz by, because basically what you see is what you get and what you get is cute, but not memorable.
To execute his plan to steal the moon, Gru must nab a shrink ray gun from his arch rival Vector. Vector has a penchant for coconut girl scout cookies and so Gru adopts three orphans, hoping to gain access to Vector's fortress through their cookie solicitations. The girls are occasionally amusing, but by no means precocious, clever or endearing enough to steal anyone's heart but, inevitably, Gru's.
Gru is assisted in his devious schemes by a gruff inventor and hundreds of minions: yellow, chirpy little pranksters who live in Gru's mansion and assist and sabotage his operations. Since costumed minions bustled around the Nokia theater charming audience members before the movie started, the producers have clearly placed all their merchandising hopes in their tiny yellow hands. Many of the movie's laughs came from the minions' practical jokes and they may well delight some younger viewers. Once I saw them, I could never believe that Gru was that bad of a guy, because he knew each one of his little helpers by name. Ogres don't pay that much attention to others, especially those that work for them. Obviously, there was always a heart of gold lurking behind Gru's scowl.
Carrell is a talented mimic, but he could have done this voice over in his sleep. The 3-D effects are pleasant, but not eye-dropping. Ultimately, this movie is far from despicable, but less than distinctive and never dazzling.
While the simplistic story fits a younger audience, visually the animation and action wouldn't be enough to hold and capture their attention -- except for the minions! Steve Carrell is the voice for Gru, a washed up villain who is being usurped by younger evil doers. In fact, one upstart just stole The Pyramids right from under Egypt's nose and if Gru doesn't want to lose his reputation entirely, he's got to surpass that feat. He comes up with the idea to steal the moon, but realizes that is a costly endeavor that will take a large bank loan.
Seeking financing, Gru goes to Evil Bank ("formerly Lehman Brothers"). That was the best line in the movie and clearly geared towards mature audience members, but that's about the only sight gag the film offers. You won't need to rewind this one to catch speeding subtleties as they whizz by, because basically what you see is what you get and what you get is cute, but not memorable.
To execute his plan to steal the moon, Gru must nab a shrink ray gun from his arch rival Vector. Vector has a penchant for coconut girl scout cookies and so Gru adopts three orphans, hoping to gain access to Vector's fortress through their cookie solicitations. The girls are occasionally amusing, but by no means precocious, clever or endearing enough to steal anyone's heart but, inevitably, Gru's.
Gru is assisted in his devious schemes by a gruff inventor and hundreds of minions: yellow, chirpy little pranksters who live in Gru's mansion and assist and sabotage his operations. Since costumed minions bustled around the Nokia theater charming audience members before the movie started, the producers have clearly placed all their merchandising hopes in their tiny yellow hands. Many of the movie's laughs came from the minions' practical jokes and they may well delight some younger viewers. Once I saw them, I could never believe that Gru was that bad of a guy, because he knew each one of his little helpers by name. Ogres don't pay that much attention to others, especially those that work for them. Obviously, there was always a heart of gold lurking behind Gru's scowl.
Carrell is a talented mimic, but he could have done this voice over in his sleep. The 3-D effects are pleasant, but not eye-dropping. Ultimately, this movie is far from despicable, but less than distinctive and never dazzling.
Friday, June 25, 2010
Eclipse (2010)
This might be the best of the three movies in the Twilight Saga, reviving some of the romance and mood that was present in the first, combined with more credible action scenes than that presented in the second. Certainly, the latest movie has more humor than the other installments, the frequent laughs derived from both one liners and small gestures which lend the characters fresh charm.
Pattinson and Lautner seemed to have improved and the supporting characters were fleshed out a bit more. My favorite Cullen clan member, Jasper (played by Jackson Rathbone) got to sparkle a bit and I think Nikki Reed as Rosalie may quiet those who have never warmed to her before, because she was too unlike her counterpart in the book. Rosalie will play a larger role in the last Twilight movie and Reed got a chance to hint that she will be up to the challenge. New cast member, Xavier Samuel(Riley) had much more to do in the film than in the book and the scenes with Bree and the newborns from Riley's perspective, almost made me think that Summit is might be planning a spinoff movie franchise with those characters. But first things first . . .
While Catherine Hardwicke (Twilight) may not have been as experienced a director as Chris Weitz (New Moon) she used touches I found visually arresting. Her slow motion and fast action sequences showcased the vampires' gleeful power (the baseball game) and graceful menace (the murderous Laurent, James and Victoria). Girding for battle, the characters move in sync or freeze in model poses. Concerted action, heightening the drama. I thought those little flourishes were overshadowed by the clumsy clashing of (bad) CGI wolves in New Moon. The newest director, David Slade, has a more delicate hand, shaping the fight scenes into something sleek and stylish, while subtly turning up the tender edges of love scenes.
One of the best visuals featured the newborn army marching rhythmically underwater towards their targets. Of course, it would have been quicker to swim, but not as chic, and they have reputations to maintain! Besides, having them submerged, then walk stealthily upwards towards shore emphasized the fact that the newborns belong more to Hades' world than ours.
I must admit that I was so frustrated by the romantic "triangle" in the book (the subject of my nearly endless rant on Good Reads , that I spent most of my time comparing the movie to the novel, trying to decide which medium made Bella and Jacob more annoying. It's rather a wash. I found that the movie omitted moments I found important, but mercifully glossed over some I'd found most annoying. I guess I can say that, overall, the film did not make a bad situation worse. I was so obsessed with that aspect of the story, however, that I spent more time parsing over the interaction among the trio than anything else. So, my observations are top heavy on that subject. In truth, I can't really judge the movie fairly, as I didn't approach it as something complete unto itself, but was more interested in how it would succeed or fail in bringing the pages to life. I can hardly pretend that I judged the movie on its own merits. With that rather skewered perspective in mind, rather than giving what is actually a review, I'd like to simply note the most signicant differences that struck me between book and film, some appreciated, some not.
1. The movie opened with Riley. In the book, I never even noticed this guy until the fight scene with Edward and Victoria. While the parallel between Jasper/Maria (Jasper's maker) and Riley/Victoria was certainly in the book, I guess it did not jump out at me there as it did in the movie. That was quite effective. Even though Riley was evil, you could still see that in a way he was just as much a victim as Bree.
2. Due to Kristen's dispassionate, downplayed take on the character, in the early scenes it almost looked as if Bella was bored with Edward, indifferent. Certainly, in the book, he was smothering. To the point where he himself made the decision to back off, realizing that his overprotectiveness could push her away. In the movie, it's Bella who is pushing back. She doesn't ask for permission, which is a healthy thing, given the young girl's who may be influenced by the character. Bella's more independent and less doting (towards Edward at least) on celloloid than on parchment. It may be just as well in the end. While book Bella constantly said she was concerned with Edward's feelings, she often did not act it. At least in the movie, she's not running around vowing never to let him see her cry over Jacob again -- only to do it a 1000 more times). Still, because Edward's devotion to Bella is so singleminded (maybe even stalkerish), the fact that her love for him is less tunnel-visioned, sometimes makes Edward's passion seem one-sided or, at the very least, lop-sided.
3. In the book, Edward tricked Bella into visiting her mother. He does so in the movie as well, but she is not as reluctant to leave or resentful of his ploy. She simply says it's a great idea, as long as Edward comes too -- which he had every intention of doing anyway, in the book. It's not as obvious that he brought the matter up in front of Charlie, just to trap Bella. Charlie doesn't take the bait and doesn't resist Bella leaving on the visit either. I missed the funny scene from the book where she argues with him about concealing things from her. She tells him there's danger everywhere so he shouldn't have tried to get her to leave her home. She points out that their plane could have crashed and she could have died just as easily that way. In the book, before apologizing, Edward tells Bella if the plane crashed he would just jump out before it hit the ground and carry her to safety. I missed that exchange. In the movie, Bella faults Edward for lying to her, tells him to trust her and then leaves on a motorcycle with a cocky Jake.
They kept the scene from the book where she declares that she's Switzerland. When you're in love with one guy who is hated by the other who is constantly making a play for you in a bid to make your "true love" jealous and irate; when the rival and his pack want the death and extinction of your loved one and his family, I really don't think you can afford to be Switzerland. There's no room for neutrality. My whole problem with Bella, (book and film) is that she never took a strong enough stand against Jacob and, in the movie especially, she saddles Edward with a "deal with it" attitude that he would never use towards her.
4. I heard Nikki Reed discuss a scene where Rosalie got her heart broken and felt jilted on the red carpet. That scene was not in the movie I saw, if it referred to Edward rejecting Rosalie as his mate after she was first changed, as explained in the book. If the interviewer was talking about Rosalie's attack by a group of drunken, vicious men then he should be bull-whipped for referring to it as getting "jilted."
5. The movie added a valedictorian speech that told the students to experiment, make mistakes and not to commit to their futures too soon. In the book, Bella was certainly frightened about what she would become once changed and the ties she would have to break in doing so, but the movie hinted that she had more doubt about whether she actually wanted to be converted or not.
6. The awful scene where Jake forces the kiss on Bella is mitigated in the movie a bit, because he takes her more by surprise than anything else. In the book, she is described as struggling against him. He ignores her, refusing to accept "no" as "no," in a move that made the character nearly irredeemable in my eyes. He was bad enough, but when they got home and Charlie laughed about the incident, I was livid. It's not as harsh in the movie, because Bella isn't really resisting Jacob, so much as she is shocked. He asks her to choose him over Edward and she protests that there's no choice to make, that she just does't feel "that way" about him. He insists that she does but won't admit it to herself. He tells her that Edward probably can't even kiss her without hurting how, while he, Jacob, is flesh and warmth, grabbing her in a kiss to prove it. She punches him once she gets her bearings. So, it's more like he stole a kiss, whereas in the book he forced one on her. Given, "your lips say no, but your heart says yes" and "I know what you really need," mentality, it's still an unsavory scene, but not as unforgivable, as it was on the page.
7. Bella's dreams were often prescient in the books, but she had a brand new one in the movie, when a conversation with Jasper makes her realize that it is Victoria behind the army of newborns that have been created. She is the first one to make the connection. The movie is determined to give her a less passive role in the combat, whereas the book used her weakness in the Eclipse fight against Victoria to make a stark contrast to the strength and leadership she would play in Breaking Dawn. She begins to blossom into heroism earlier on screen than she did on paper.
8. When Bella gets Edward not to fight, she doesn't do so by laying a guilt trip on him and saying that she's been insane once and can't bear to go through that again. Instead, she simply tells him that they're more vulnerable when they're apart and wonders how many different times he has to learn that. He concedes her point and promises not to fight. Actually, I think this is an effective way of quietly highlighting their partnership. It gives them more parity as a couple. She doesn't say, "I'll go crazy worrying about you. I can't stand it." She says, "we'll be worried about each other. We'll both be distracted. It's best if we stay together." It's sound reasoning, giving their relationship balance. Later, as she leaves drops of blood in the woods to trick Victoria into following the wrong trail, Edward tells her that he is no longer has to resist the urge to feed, when he exposed to her blood. Since when she wonders. Since he went through 24 hours thinking she was dead he tells her solemnly. A nice moment, conveying that the thought of having lost her forever killed any physical urges he once had to take her life quite concisely.
9. Making abstinence sexy, Edward causes gasps in the movie audience when he tells Bella he wants to be married to her before sleeping together, so as not to endanger her eternal soul. The engagement scene may actually be more romantic than in the book, because she seems generally happy, not like it's something she's doing just because he promised to sleep with her. When he tells her how he would have proposed 100 years ago, she is moved and seems to accept his offer of marriage on its own terms and not part of a bargain.
I may be jaded, but I think the camera lingered on the engagement ring and charm bracelet that Bella wore for reasons having more to do with movie merchandising than character sentiment.
10. In the book, she takes the ring off, because being married at 17 simply grosses her out. In the movie she takes it off, because she doesn't want Jacob to know. She claims she simply doesn't want to distract him, before the fight. In the book, I liked the fact that much as she obsessed over Jacob, she was more worried about Edward being hurt than she was for even Jacob. It seemed vital to book Bella that Edward not fight and she only became crazed about Jacob not fighting at the moment of the kiss scene. In the movie, she seems a lot less desperate about Edward's safety.
11. The tent scene is less obnoxious, because when Bella is huddled up against Jacob for warmth in the movie, she really seems fully asleep. In the book, she is half asleep, for narrative purposes, because Stephenie Meyer couldn't relate the scene if the protagonist wasn't present for it. The movie has no such limitations and can depict events that happened outside of Bella's presence. In the book, since Bella heard part of what Jacob and Edward said, it was maddening that she was not more sensitive to Edward's pain and uncertainty, as he spoke of stepping aside if that's what she wanted. I always wished she'd reassured him the next morning and she never did. At least in the movie, she never heard him. After Jacob points out to Edward that a chilly Bella could get sick and it will be on his head, Edward allows Jacob to join Bella under the blanket and keep her warm. As Jacob leers, taunts and finally gets Edward to divulge his willingness to give her up, if that's what she wants, Bella sleeps, apparently deaf to the conversation.
11. But for every two steps forward, there are two steps back. In the book, Bella and Edward don't talk start listing their favorite times together. Instead, Edwards jumps straight to mentioning their engagement. Gloating, he calls her "Mrs. Cullen" and she points out that in this modern era, she no longer has to change her surname. When Bella discovers that he spoke about coming nuptials knowing that Jacob was listening, she is furious. She runs to Jacob and when Edward tries to detain her, she jerks her hand away, yelling, "Don't!" After everything she has forgiven Jacob for (beginning when he didn't give her phone, leading Edward to assume she was dead in Book 2) and the endless way he taunts Edward every chance he gets, I don't know how Bella can be angry with Edward for telling Jacob they're engaged. I never understood why Jacob's pain is so much more troubling to her than Edward's. She pleads with Jacob, begging him not to enter battle and they have their extended kiss. When she finally turns around, it's only to find Edward looking straight at her, they exchange dialogue that is similar to the book's, in which she acknowledges that she loves Jacob but lamely tells Edward that she loves Edward more. Yeah, but not that much more, from what I can see. In the book, Edward justified her being torn between the 2 men, by sayin that he left her torn and bleeding and Jacob helped heal her. That rationale isn't mentioned here and Bella seems a lot less agonized about having betrayed Edward with that kiss than she did in the book.
By contrast to the book. we don't learn that Jacob tricked her into the kiss by suggesting that he was prepared to march to his death without her love.
12. When Seth, Edward, and Bella are confronted by Riley and Victoria, once Riley is dispatched Victoria retreats, but Edward calls her back and provokes her, in a way that the book Edward would not have done while Bella was in harm's reach. After Victoria is killed, Bella doesn't freak out and make Edward think he has alienated her with his inhuman violence, but she also doesn't run, jump on him and kiss him in relief either. They probably want to keep us in doubt about the status of her feelings, but her extended lack of emotion towards Edward after the big scene with Jacob makes her seem oblivious to Edward's feelings (and not for the first time. There's a nice gesture where Edward picks up her arm (which she cut herself, to distract Victoria, with her blood) and thoughtfully binds her wound with a strip of cloth from her own shirt. In the movie, Bella really did save the day. Seth wasn't faking his injury as he was in the book. Bella's intervention was actually necessary to save Edward.
13. In the book, Edward and Bella are not present when Jacob is injured. Edward hears about it telepathically and when Bella learns that Jacob is hurt, she faints. Well, in the movie, she is there when Jacob is attacked and, though frantic over him, she holds her own and stays with the Cullens to face the Volturri while Jacob is taken away for medical treatment. When Jane notes that Bella is still human, Bella tells her that the date has already been set for her conversion.
14. When Bella goes to Jake's bedside later, at least I don't have to hear her saying how she saw their life together and wanted it all so badly, thorns I had to suffer when reading these passages. She doesn't have a vision of their two little children (which was nauseating to read). She also doesn't go home and cry all night about him, while a helpless Edward watches over her. Instead, after leaving Jacob, we next see her in the meadow with Edward and she tells him she has set August 13 as their wedding date. She'll let Alice plan the whole thing, including the invitations (in the book, she was hesitant about letting Alice invite Jacob). Edward asks if she is sure and tells her she should stop giving up so much to please everyone else and she says that she never had to make a choice between him and Jacob in reality. The choice was between the safe life and doing what was expected of her, what was easiest. She says she was always clumsy before, always had to be so careful, but being around the vampires, she has never felt stronger and more sure of herself. She's faced the danger and stared it down, not run away. Becoming one of them is the right choice and it is for her. Edward laughs, "then it's not all about me then" and she tells him it's not. Jacob had reminded her that she wouldn't have to give up her family to be with him. He'd be safe. Being with him would be easy, like breathing. She chose to do what was harder, but more exhilarating than just breathing.
This take on things is definitely derived from passages in the book, but it gives them a different spin, so that we arrive at the same place, but via a slightly different route. In the book, it wasn't really a choice between lifestyles. It may not have been a stark choice between Edward and Jacob, but Bella was certainly battling the pain she would cause Jacob. It was her overriding love for Edward which made her confront that pain. In the movie, I guess it was surviving Victoria which convinced her she not only wanted the vampire life, but was cut out for it. I don't think book Bella came to this realization until after she was a vampire. So, she wasn't joking. It really wasn't as much about Edward as it had been in the novel. In the book she tells him she wants to marry before consummating their relationship, because saving his soul is as important as he thinks saving hers is. In the movie, she simply says she wants to bind herself to him in every possible way.
Actually, Bella's motivations as presented in the movie, do remind one of Wuthering Heights and the path not taken by Catherine. It was easier for Catherine to choose Edgar over Heathcliff socially, but not emotionally. Unfortunately, Bella's feelings for Jacob were stronger than Catherine's for Edgar. As a result, her love for Edward often lacked the consuming, ear-ripping passion that made Wuthering Heights a classic. Meyer (and then the movie's) affection for Jacob (and Taylor Lautner) undermined the couple at the heart of the story. But Heathcliff and Catherine don't surface in the movie, as they do in the book. There's no "I can't live without you" talk from Bella. It's a more realistic, reasoned romance, but still heartwarming, as she tells him she's going to need that engagement ring again and, united, they start off to see Charlie.
Thankfully, the movie ends there and not with Jacob the wolf, running off howling into the wilderness.
I don't know how this film will play to those who didn't read the book, but I think it may actually fair better, standing on its own shoulders, than its predecessors did. As an Eclipse reader, there were things I would have changed, but I wasn't ashamed being a moviegoer. That certainly can't be said for all book to film translations.
Pattinson and Lautner seemed to have improved and the supporting characters were fleshed out a bit more. My favorite Cullen clan member, Jasper (played by Jackson Rathbone) got to sparkle a bit and I think Nikki Reed as Rosalie may quiet those who have never warmed to her before, because she was too unlike her counterpart in the book. Rosalie will play a larger role in the last Twilight movie and Reed got a chance to hint that she will be up to the challenge. New cast member, Xavier Samuel(Riley) had much more to do in the film than in the book and the scenes with Bree and the newborns from Riley's perspective, almost made me think that Summit is might be planning a spinoff movie franchise with those characters. But first things first . . .
While Catherine Hardwicke (Twilight) may not have been as experienced a director as Chris Weitz (New Moon) she used touches I found visually arresting. Her slow motion and fast action sequences showcased the vampires' gleeful power (the baseball game) and graceful menace (the murderous Laurent, James and Victoria). Girding for battle, the characters move in sync or freeze in model poses. Concerted action, heightening the drama. I thought those little flourishes were overshadowed by the clumsy clashing of (bad) CGI wolves in New Moon. The newest director, David Slade, has a more delicate hand, shaping the fight scenes into something sleek and stylish, while subtly turning up the tender edges of love scenes.
One of the best visuals featured the newborn army marching rhythmically underwater towards their targets. Of course, it would have been quicker to swim, but not as chic, and they have reputations to maintain! Besides, having them submerged, then walk stealthily upwards towards shore emphasized the fact that the newborns belong more to Hades' world than ours.
I must admit that I was so frustrated by the romantic "triangle" in the book (the subject of my nearly endless rant on Good Reads , that I spent most of my time comparing the movie to the novel, trying to decide which medium made Bella and Jacob more annoying. It's rather a wash. I found that the movie omitted moments I found important, but mercifully glossed over some I'd found most annoying. I guess I can say that, overall, the film did not make a bad situation worse. I was so obsessed with that aspect of the story, however, that I spent more time parsing over the interaction among the trio than anything else. So, my observations are top heavy on that subject. In truth, I can't really judge the movie fairly, as I didn't approach it as something complete unto itself, but was more interested in how it would succeed or fail in bringing the pages to life. I can hardly pretend that I judged the movie on its own merits. With that rather skewered perspective in mind, rather than giving what is actually a review, I'd like to simply note the most signicant differences that struck me between book and film, some appreciated, some not.
1. The movie opened with Riley. In the book, I never even noticed this guy until the fight scene with Edward and Victoria. While the parallel between Jasper/Maria (Jasper's maker) and Riley/Victoria was certainly in the book, I guess it did not jump out at me there as it did in the movie. That was quite effective. Even though Riley was evil, you could still see that in a way he was just as much a victim as Bree.
2. Due to Kristen's dispassionate, downplayed take on the character, in the early scenes it almost looked as if Bella was bored with Edward, indifferent. Certainly, in the book, he was smothering. To the point where he himself made the decision to back off, realizing that his overprotectiveness could push her away. In the movie, it's Bella who is pushing back. She doesn't ask for permission, which is a healthy thing, given the young girl's who may be influenced by the character. Bella's more independent and less doting (towards Edward at least) on celloloid than on parchment. It may be just as well in the end. While book Bella constantly said she was concerned with Edward's feelings, she often did not act it. At least in the movie, she's not running around vowing never to let him see her cry over Jacob again -- only to do it a 1000 more times). Still, because Edward's devotion to Bella is so singleminded (maybe even stalkerish), the fact that her love for him is less tunnel-visioned, sometimes makes Edward's passion seem one-sided or, at the very least, lop-sided.
3. In the book, Edward tricked Bella into visiting her mother. He does so in the movie as well, but she is not as reluctant to leave or resentful of his ploy. She simply says it's a great idea, as long as Edward comes too -- which he had every intention of doing anyway, in the book. It's not as obvious that he brought the matter up in front of Charlie, just to trap Bella. Charlie doesn't take the bait and doesn't resist Bella leaving on the visit either. I missed the funny scene from the book where she argues with him about concealing things from her. She tells him there's danger everywhere so he shouldn't have tried to get her to leave her home. She points out that their plane could have crashed and she could have died just as easily that way. In the book, before apologizing, Edward tells Bella if the plane crashed he would just jump out before it hit the ground and carry her to safety. I missed that exchange. In the movie, Bella faults Edward for lying to her, tells him to trust her and then leaves on a motorcycle with a cocky Jake.
They kept the scene from the book where she declares that she's Switzerland. When you're in love with one guy who is hated by the other who is constantly making a play for you in a bid to make your "true love" jealous and irate; when the rival and his pack want the death and extinction of your loved one and his family, I really don't think you can afford to be Switzerland. There's no room for neutrality. My whole problem with Bella, (book and film) is that she never took a strong enough stand against Jacob and, in the movie especially, she saddles Edward with a "deal with it" attitude that he would never use towards her.
4. I heard Nikki Reed discuss a scene where Rosalie got her heart broken and felt jilted on the red carpet. That scene was not in the movie I saw, if it referred to Edward rejecting Rosalie as his mate after she was first changed, as explained in the book. If the interviewer was talking about Rosalie's attack by a group of drunken, vicious men then he should be bull-whipped for referring to it as getting "jilted."
5. The movie added a valedictorian speech that told the students to experiment, make mistakes and not to commit to their futures too soon. In the book, Bella was certainly frightened about what she would become once changed and the ties she would have to break in doing so, but the movie hinted that she had more doubt about whether she actually wanted to be converted or not.
6. The awful scene where Jake forces the kiss on Bella is mitigated in the movie a bit, because he takes her more by surprise than anything else. In the book, she is described as struggling against him. He ignores her, refusing to accept "no" as "no," in a move that made the character nearly irredeemable in my eyes. He was bad enough, but when they got home and Charlie laughed about the incident, I was livid. It's not as harsh in the movie, because Bella isn't really resisting Jacob, so much as she is shocked. He asks her to choose him over Edward and she protests that there's no choice to make, that she just does't feel "that way" about him. He insists that she does but won't admit it to herself. He tells her that Edward probably can't even kiss her without hurting how, while he, Jacob, is flesh and warmth, grabbing her in a kiss to prove it. She punches him once she gets her bearings. So, it's more like he stole a kiss, whereas in the book he forced one on her. Given, "your lips say no, but your heart says yes" and "I know what you really need," mentality, it's still an unsavory scene, but not as unforgivable, as it was on the page.
7. Bella's dreams were often prescient in the books, but she had a brand new one in the movie, when a conversation with Jasper makes her realize that it is Victoria behind the army of newborns that have been created. She is the first one to make the connection. The movie is determined to give her a less passive role in the combat, whereas the book used her weakness in the Eclipse fight against Victoria to make a stark contrast to the strength and leadership she would play in Breaking Dawn. She begins to blossom into heroism earlier on screen than she did on paper.
8. When Bella gets Edward not to fight, she doesn't do so by laying a guilt trip on him and saying that she's been insane once and can't bear to go through that again. Instead, she simply tells him that they're more vulnerable when they're apart and wonders how many different times he has to learn that. He concedes her point and promises not to fight. Actually, I think this is an effective way of quietly highlighting their partnership. It gives them more parity as a couple. She doesn't say, "I'll go crazy worrying about you. I can't stand it." She says, "we'll be worried about each other. We'll both be distracted. It's best if we stay together." It's sound reasoning, giving their relationship balance. Later, as she leaves drops of blood in the woods to trick Victoria into following the wrong trail, Edward tells her that he is no longer has to resist the urge to feed, when he exposed to her blood. Since when she wonders. Since he went through 24 hours thinking she was dead he tells her solemnly. A nice moment, conveying that the thought of having lost her forever killed any physical urges he once had to take her life quite concisely.
9. Making abstinence sexy, Edward causes gasps in the movie audience when he tells Bella he wants to be married to her before sleeping together, so as not to endanger her eternal soul. The engagement scene may actually be more romantic than in the book, because she seems generally happy, not like it's something she's doing just because he promised to sleep with her. When he tells her how he would have proposed 100 years ago, she is moved and seems to accept his offer of marriage on its own terms and not part of a bargain.
I may be jaded, but I think the camera lingered on the engagement ring and charm bracelet that Bella wore for reasons having more to do with movie merchandising than character sentiment.
10. In the book, she takes the ring off, because being married at 17 simply grosses her out. In the movie she takes it off, because she doesn't want Jacob to know. She claims she simply doesn't want to distract him, before the fight. In the book, I liked the fact that much as she obsessed over Jacob, she was more worried about Edward being hurt than she was for even Jacob. It seemed vital to book Bella that Edward not fight and she only became crazed about Jacob not fighting at the moment of the kiss scene. In the movie, she seems a lot less desperate about Edward's safety.
11. The tent scene is less obnoxious, because when Bella is huddled up against Jacob for warmth in the movie, she really seems fully asleep. In the book, she is half asleep, for narrative purposes, because Stephenie Meyer couldn't relate the scene if the protagonist wasn't present for it. The movie has no such limitations and can depict events that happened outside of Bella's presence. In the book, since Bella heard part of what Jacob and Edward said, it was maddening that she was not more sensitive to Edward's pain and uncertainty, as he spoke of stepping aside if that's what she wanted. I always wished she'd reassured him the next morning and she never did. At least in the movie, she never heard him. After Jacob points out to Edward that a chilly Bella could get sick and it will be on his head, Edward allows Jacob to join Bella under the blanket and keep her warm. As Jacob leers, taunts and finally gets Edward to divulge his willingness to give her up, if that's what she wants, Bella sleeps, apparently deaf to the conversation.
11. But for every two steps forward, there are two steps back. In the book, Bella and Edward don't talk start listing their favorite times together. Instead, Edwards jumps straight to mentioning their engagement. Gloating, he calls her "Mrs. Cullen" and she points out that in this modern era, she no longer has to change her surname. When Bella discovers that he spoke about coming nuptials knowing that Jacob was listening, she is furious. She runs to Jacob and when Edward tries to detain her, she jerks her hand away, yelling, "Don't!" After everything she has forgiven Jacob for (beginning when he didn't give her phone, leading Edward to assume she was dead in Book 2) and the endless way he taunts Edward every chance he gets, I don't know how Bella can be angry with Edward for telling Jacob they're engaged. I never understood why Jacob's pain is so much more troubling to her than Edward's. She pleads with Jacob, begging him not to enter battle and they have their extended kiss. When she finally turns around, it's only to find Edward looking straight at her, they exchange dialogue that is similar to the book's, in which she acknowledges that she loves Jacob but lamely tells Edward that she loves Edward more. Yeah, but not that much more, from what I can see. In the book, Edward justified her being torn between the 2 men, by sayin that he left her torn and bleeding and Jacob helped heal her. That rationale isn't mentioned here and Bella seems a lot less agonized about having betrayed Edward with that kiss than she did in the book.
By contrast to the book. we don't learn that Jacob tricked her into the kiss by suggesting that he was prepared to march to his death without her love.
12. When Seth, Edward, and Bella are confronted by Riley and Victoria, once Riley is dispatched Victoria retreats, but Edward calls her back and provokes her, in a way that the book Edward would not have done while Bella was in harm's reach. After Victoria is killed, Bella doesn't freak out and make Edward think he has alienated her with his inhuman violence, but she also doesn't run, jump on him and kiss him in relief either. They probably want to keep us in doubt about the status of her feelings, but her extended lack of emotion towards Edward after the big scene with Jacob makes her seem oblivious to Edward's feelings (and not for the first time. There's a nice gesture where Edward picks up her arm (which she cut herself, to distract Victoria, with her blood) and thoughtfully binds her wound with a strip of cloth from her own shirt. In the movie, Bella really did save the day. Seth wasn't faking his injury as he was in the book. Bella's intervention was actually necessary to save Edward.
13. In the book, Edward and Bella are not present when Jacob is injured. Edward hears about it telepathically and when Bella learns that Jacob is hurt, she faints. Well, in the movie, she is there when Jacob is attacked and, though frantic over him, she holds her own and stays with the Cullens to face the Volturri while Jacob is taken away for medical treatment. When Jane notes that Bella is still human, Bella tells her that the date has already been set for her conversion.
14. When Bella goes to Jake's bedside later, at least I don't have to hear her saying how she saw their life together and wanted it all so badly, thorns I had to suffer when reading these passages. She doesn't have a vision of their two little children (which was nauseating to read). She also doesn't go home and cry all night about him, while a helpless Edward watches over her. Instead, after leaving Jacob, we next see her in the meadow with Edward and she tells him she has set August 13 as their wedding date. She'll let Alice plan the whole thing, including the invitations (in the book, she was hesitant about letting Alice invite Jacob). Edward asks if she is sure and tells her she should stop giving up so much to please everyone else and she says that she never had to make a choice between him and Jacob in reality. The choice was between the safe life and doing what was expected of her, what was easiest. She says she was always clumsy before, always had to be so careful, but being around the vampires, she has never felt stronger and more sure of herself. She's faced the danger and stared it down, not run away. Becoming one of them is the right choice and it is for her. Edward laughs, "then it's not all about me then" and she tells him it's not. Jacob had reminded her that she wouldn't have to give up her family to be with him. He'd be safe. Being with him would be easy, like breathing. She chose to do what was harder, but more exhilarating than just breathing.
This take on things is definitely derived from passages in the book, but it gives them a different spin, so that we arrive at the same place, but via a slightly different route. In the book, it wasn't really a choice between lifestyles. It may not have been a stark choice between Edward and Jacob, but Bella was certainly battling the pain she would cause Jacob. It was her overriding love for Edward which made her confront that pain. In the movie, I guess it was surviving Victoria which convinced her she not only wanted the vampire life, but was cut out for it. I don't think book Bella came to this realization until after she was a vampire. So, she wasn't joking. It really wasn't as much about Edward as it had been in the novel. In the book she tells him she wants to marry before consummating their relationship, because saving his soul is as important as he thinks saving hers is. In the movie, she simply says she wants to bind herself to him in every possible way.
Actually, Bella's motivations as presented in the movie, do remind one of Wuthering Heights and the path not taken by Catherine. It was easier for Catherine to choose Edgar over Heathcliff socially, but not emotionally. Unfortunately, Bella's feelings for Jacob were stronger than Catherine's for Edgar. As a result, her love for Edward often lacked the consuming, ear-ripping passion that made Wuthering Heights a classic. Meyer (and then the movie's) affection for Jacob (and Taylor Lautner) undermined the couple at the heart of the story. But Heathcliff and Catherine don't surface in the movie, as they do in the book. There's no "I can't live without you" talk from Bella. It's a more realistic, reasoned romance, but still heartwarming, as she tells him she's going to need that engagement ring again and, united, they start off to see Charlie.
Thankfully, the movie ends there and not with Jacob the wolf, running off howling into the wilderness.
I don't know how this film will play to those who didn't read the book, but I think it may actually fair better, standing on its own shoulders, than its predecessors did. As an Eclipse reader, there were things I would have changed, but I wasn't ashamed being a moviegoer. That certainly can't be said for all book to film translations.
Sunday, June 20, 2010
The Invention of Lying (2009)
This movie would have fared better as a social commentary on the way that lies and puffery dominate our lives, than it does as a romance. Invention shares some of the same flaws as Gervais' Ghost Town, from the year before, venturing into sentimental territory that is ill-fitted to the moments of sharp wit that mark the film at its best. To the extent that I excused Gervais for responsibility for Ghost Town's failings, because he didn't write it, this time around, there's no out. Gervais co-wrote and co-directed Lying and now I have to accept that it was probably his vision that led Ghost Town down the romantic treacle path as well.
Logic would suggest that it's mankind's ability to lie that makes us phony and shallow. But in the world where this movie is set, the complete lack of lies (big and small, black or white, kind or cruel) makes it an even more superficial place than the one we really live in. The characters cannot deceive, flatter or embellish at all. They don't even have words for the unknown concept of lying, nor do they have a word for "truth," since everything is true. When they invariably say exactly what is on their minds, it is usually demeaning to those around them.
Gervais' Mark Bellison is a writer for Lecture Films, where movie scripts are simply dry recitations of historical fact. It's when he loses his thankless job and is faced with eviction from his apartment that desperation prompts him to lie to a bank teller, to secure the money needed to pay his rent. When the lie works, he makes a career of it and that's when the movie takes a wrong turn.
The first 30 minutes humorously explore how ingrained lies are in every aspect of our social interaction, from Coke commercials to dating. Eliminate them and you're left with a shocking candor that's actually as refreshing as it is alarming. People readily admit their crimes, sloth and disdain. The honesty is wearisome for Mark, but at least he knows where he stands at work, in love and in life. He's universally hailed as a loser, so often that he's more resigned to the namecalling than hurt. This changes the more attached he becomes to the attractive Anna McDoogle (Jennifer Garner) a cheerful beauty who likes Mark, but declares him out of her league. She is looking for a genetic match, so that she can bare attractive children, not little fat ones with snub noses -- the only kind Mark could father.
While the movie's premise is often amusing, it's not clear why truthfulness trumps subjectivity. Just because everyone is consigned to tell the truth at all times, doesn't mean that everyone must see the same truth. Bias creates its own truth. Love begets a type of dishonesty that has nothing to do with actual lying. A doting mother won't see an unattractive loser in her own child, even if the rest of the world does. The movie envisions a world of lies and truth, but overlooks the line that perception can draw between them. Both veracity and mendacity are in the eyes of the beholder.
Once Mark discovers that he is the only person in the world who can lie, he first uses this power to improve his own lot, but then employs it helping others, making them feel less afraid, unsure and rejected. Here, the movie takes an almost spiritual turn that is not only boring, but unnatural, striving for a sincerity that has no place in the artificial world posited. Mark assumes the role of guardian angel, when he's more appealing as wry observer.
Halo firmly affixed, when Mark's mother lays fearful on her death bed, he assuages her anxiety by telling her of a world beyond death, where she'll be rich, happy and reunited with her loved ones forever. Given this knowledge, she dies at peace. The hospital attendants who heard Mark's descriptions of the afterlife demand to know more, as does everyone else.
With the masses dependent on his knowledge and guidance, Mark becomes a modern day Moses and, with no tablets handy, he scribbles his own ten commandments on Pizza Hut box tops. He tells the people about the "Man in the Sky" who controls everything, good and bad. Knowing that Gervais is an atheist, I appreciated his take on the origin of religion. Yes, to him it may all be a lie, but at least it was one started for charitable reasons, to offer hope, conscience and restraint to those who would stray governless without it.
After 30 minutes of meandering, I think the movie regains its focus as Mark goes from being haloed savior to hapless victim of his own falsehoods. He answers petty questions about the Pizza Hut commandments with glib rejoinders, allowing us to leave the sappy and return to the realm of dry comedy at which Gervais is most effective.
Civilization is briefly buoyed by Mark's revelation of life after death, but because their new faith results in no tangible changes to their day to day life, they soon return to the jaded norm, resenting Mark for telling them about the "Man in the Sky" who possesses all the control that they still lack. Some even decide to give up on life, since death and the eternal happiness it will bring them, now seems much more promising.
The film's last 15 minutes are concerned with Anna's slooooow realization that she'd be happier with Mark than with the handsome but callous Brad Kessler (Rob Lowe), even if it means becoming the mother to fat kids with snub noses. The fact that it takes Anna so long to grasp this concept makes one wonder why Mark thinks her the sweetest woman he's ever met! Still, Garner gives an expressive performance that puts the heart beneath Anna's plastic surface. You do root for them as a couple.
Gervais' deadpan asides are as graceful and compelling here as they are in his podcasts. Speaking of which, it was delightful to see Stephen Merchant make a cameo appearance as a burglary target. Indeed, the cameos come fast and furious and are as fun to look for as the written gags involving advertising slogans, tombstone epitaphs, nursing home names and church placards. I wish Louis C. K. had been confined to a walk own role, rather than supporting, because he added very little as Mark's sodden best friend.
This movie was pleasant and Gervais is always a welcome sight, but in the end involved more lying than invention.
Logic would suggest that it's mankind's ability to lie that makes us phony and shallow. But in the world where this movie is set, the complete lack of lies (big and small, black or white, kind or cruel) makes it an even more superficial place than the one we really live in. The characters cannot deceive, flatter or embellish at all. They don't even have words for the unknown concept of lying, nor do they have a word for "truth," since everything is true. When they invariably say exactly what is on their minds, it is usually demeaning to those around them.
Gervais' Mark Bellison is a writer for Lecture Films, where movie scripts are simply dry recitations of historical fact. It's when he loses his thankless job and is faced with eviction from his apartment that desperation prompts him to lie to a bank teller, to secure the money needed to pay his rent. When the lie works, he makes a career of it and that's when the movie takes a wrong turn.
The first 30 minutes humorously explore how ingrained lies are in every aspect of our social interaction, from Coke commercials to dating. Eliminate them and you're left with a shocking candor that's actually as refreshing as it is alarming. People readily admit their crimes, sloth and disdain. The honesty is wearisome for Mark, but at least he knows where he stands at work, in love and in life. He's universally hailed as a loser, so often that he's more resigned to the namecalling than hurt. This changes the more attached he becomes to the attractive Anna McDoogle (Jennifer Garner) a cheerful beauty who likes Mark, but declares him out of her league. She is looking for a genetic match, so that she can bare attractive children, not little fat ones with snub noses -- the only kind Mark could father.
While the movie's premise is often amusing, it's not clear why truthfulness trumps subjectivity. Just because everyone is consigned to tell the truth at all times, doesn't mean that everyone must see the same truth. Bias creates its own truth. Love begets a type of dishonesty that has nothing to do with actual lying. A doting mother won't see an unattractive loser in her own child, even if the rest of the world does. The movie envisions a world of lies and truth, but overlooks the line that perception can draw between them. Both veracity and mendacity are in the eyes of the beholder.
Once Mark discovers that he is the only person in the world who can lie, he first uses this power to improve his own lot, but then employs it helping others, making them feel less afraid, unsure and rejected. Here, the movie takes an almost spiritual turn that is not only boring, but unnatural, striving for a sincerity that has no place in the artificial world posited. Mark assumes the role of guardian angel, when he's more appealing as wry observer.
Halo firmly affixed, when Mark's mother lays fearful on her death bed, he assuages her anxiety by telling her of a world beyond death, where she'll be rich, happy and reunited with her loved ones forever. Given this knowledge, she dies at peace. The hospital attendants who heard Mark's descriptions of the afterlife demand to know more, as does everyone else.
With the masses dependent on his knowledge and guidance, Mark becomes a modern day Moses and, with no tablets handy, he scribbles his own ten commandments on Pizza Hut box tops. He tells the people about the "Man in the Sky" who controls everything, good and bad. Knowing that Gervais is an atheist, I appreciated his take on the origin of religion. Yes, to him it may all be a lie, but at least it was one started for charitable reasons, to offer hope, conscience and restraint to those who would stray governless without it.
After 30 minutes of meandering, I think the movie regains its focus as Mark goes from being haloed savior to hapless victim of his own falsehoods. He answers petty questions about the Pizza Hut commandments with glib rejoinders, allowing us to leave the sappy and return to the realm of dry comedy at which Gervais is most effective.
Civilization is briefly buoyed by Mark's revelation of life after death, but because their new faith results in no tangible changes to their day to day life, they soon return to the jaded norm, resenting Mark for telling them about the "Man in the Sky" who possesses all the control that they still lack. Some even decide to give up on life, since death and the eternal happiness it will bring them, now seems much more promising.
The film's last 15 minutes are concerned with Anna's slooooow realization that she'd be happier with Mark than with the handsome but callous Brad Kessler (Rob Lowe), even if it means becoming the mother to fat kids with snub noses. The fact that it takes Anna so long to grasp this concept makes one wonder why Mark thinks her the sweetest woman he's ever met! Still, Garner gives an expressive performance that puts the heart beneath Anna's plastic surface. You do root for them as a couple.
Gervais' deadpan asides are as graceful and compelling here as they are in his podcasts. Speaking of which, it was delightful to see Stephen Merchant make a cameo appearance as a burglary target. Indeed, the cameos come fast and furious and are as fun to look for as the written gags involving advertising slogans, tombstone epitaphs, nursing home names and church placards. I wish Louis C. K. had been confined to a walk own role, rather than supporting, because he added very little as Mark's sodden best friend.
This movie was pleasant and Gervais is always a welcome sight, but in the end involved more lying than invention.
Monday, May 3, 2010
Away We Go (2009)
While neither unpleasant or uninteresting, this movie had nothing particularly insightful or new to say. It seems that Sam Mendes' involvement lent more gravitas, talent and attention to the film than it would otherwise have gotten on its own merits.
Maya Rudolph, best known for her comedic stunts on Saturday Night Live, brings a quiet realism to her role as Verona. She makes a nice stand in for the audience, as the only relatively "normal" character. Her co-star, John Krasinski, gets to display no new skills here and is put to far better use in The Office.
When pregnant Verona and her quirky, but loving boyfriend Burt find that his parents leaving the country, they realize that they have no family foundation within rich to raise their coming baby daughter. If his parents were moving, they had no remaining ties left to their present home. So, they hit the road to scope a new location and new loved ones, around which to build their lives.
At first the people Verona and Burt meet are wacky caricatures. However, though "crazy" the morose and verbose observations one acquaintance, Lowell played by Jim Gaffigan, about insurance company needing to buy insurance, make perfect sense, considering the AIG fall out and his lewd, voluble wife's claim that she was denied insurance because of a pre-existing condition was less funny than familiar given the Health Care discussions that so occupied this nation months after this film was made.
The expectant parents then drop in on a family friend of Burt's, the hippy, dippy LN (Maggie Gyllenhaal) who refuses to use a stroller, for fear that it will give her children the impression that she is pushing them away. But after leaving her house in a triumphant huff, Verona and Burt's visits take a more serious turn.
When we see her with her sister, we learn that Verona is still struggling with the deaths of her parents, whom she lost when she was still in college. Then, we meet a Montreal couple who seem to share an ideal life with their adopted children, until the devastation they suffer over repeated miscarriages is revealed after a few drinks too many. Finally, we see Burt's brother, whose wife has just abandoned him and their young daughter.
Observing the sadness of others, Verona and Burt are more grateful for each other, but uncertain about whether it will be enough to raise a happy child. Although Verona is the one whose parents are gone, Burt seems most insecure that they might fail or leave their own child. He seeks assurance from Verona. Verona refuses to marry Burt, declaring that the formality is unnecessary. Moreover, she doesn't want to participate in a ceremony where her parents will be absent. Her position seems cruel since, it is not based on the impermanency of life. She promises Burt that she will never leave him and does not seem to question that their love is enduring. If that is the case, why deny him a legal tie that will give him pleasure, while not inconveniencing her?
Perhaps that becomes a moot question after Verona and Burt exchange their own makeshift vows, while laying on a backyard trampoline. Afterwards, she is able to embrace childhood memories she'd been repressing, finding joy in them, rather than just loss. When she and Burt finally choose the place where they will make their future home, Verona isn't sure they've found their happy ending, but she is hopeful.
The movie starts as a screwball and then goes for heartfelt, but either way it contains nothing novel. The problems (miscarriages, dead parents, runaway mother) seem cliche. The laughs are lukewarm and the couple at the center is as mundane as their worries. The supporting cast (Allison Janney, Jeff Daniels and Catherine O'Hara in additon to Gyllenhaal) is better than the script. The movie has nothing new to say and nothing old to say in a new way. In the end, you understand why Burt's parents chose to get out of Dodge. It was nothing personal, they just figured their time could be better spent. So could ours.
Maya Rudolph, best known for her comedic stunts on Saturday Night Live, brings a quiet realism to her role as Verona. She makes a nice stand in for the audience, as the only relatively "normal" character. Her co-star, John Krasinski, gets to display no new skills here and is put to far better use in The Office.
When pregnant Verona and her quirky, but loving boyfriend Burt find that his parents leaving the country, they realize that they have no family foundation within rich to raise their coming baby daughter. If his parents were moving, they had no remaining ties left to their present home. So, they hit the road to scope a new location and new loved ones, around which to build their lives.
At first the people Verona and Burt meet are wacky caricatures. However, though "crazy" the morose and verbose observations one acquaintance, Lowell played by Jim Gaffigan, about insurance company needing to buy insurance, make perfect sense, considering the AIG fall out and his lewd, voluble wife's claim that she was denied insurance because of a pre-existing condition was less funny than familiar given the Health Care discussions that so occupied this nation months after this film was made.
The expectant parents then drop in on a family friend of Burt's, the hippy, dippy LN (Maggie Gyllenhaal) who refuses to use a stroller, for fear that it will give her children the impression that she is pushing them away. But after leaving her house in a triumphant huff, Verona and Burt's visits take a more serious turn.
When we see her with her sister, we learn that Verona is still struggling with the deaths of her parents, whom she lost when she was still in college. Then, we meet a Montreal couple who seem to share an ideal life with their adopted children, until the devastation they suffer over repeated miscarriages is revealed after a few drinks too many. Finally, we see Burt's brother, whose wife has just abandoned him and their young daughter.
Observing the sadness of others, Verona and Burt are more grateful for each other, but uncertain about whether it will be enough to raise a happy child. Although Verona is the one whose parents are gone, Burt seems most insecure that they might fail or leave their own child. He seeks assurance from Verona. Verona refuses to marry Burt, declaring that the formality is unnecessary. Moreover, she doesn't want to participate in a ceremony where her parents will be absent. Her position seems cruel since, it is not based on the impermanency of life. She promises Burt that she will never leave him and does not seem to question that their love is enduring. If that is the case, why deny him a legal tie that will give him pleasure, while not inconveniencing her?
Perhaps that becomes a moot question after Verona and Burt exchange their own makeshift vows, while laying on a backyard trampoline. Afterwards, she is able to embrace childhood memories she'd been repressing, finding joy in them, rather than just loss. When she and Burt finally choose the place where they will make their future home, Verona isn't sure they've found their happy ending, but she is hopeful.
The movie starts as a screwball and then goes for heartfelt, but either way it contains nothing novel. The problems (miscarriages, dead parents, runaway mother) seem cliche. The laughs are lukewarm and the couple at the center is as mundane as their worries. The supporting cast (Allison Janney, Jeff Daniels and Catherine O'Hara in additon to Gyllenhaal) is better than the script. The movie has nothing new to say and nothing old to say in a new way. In the end, you understand why Burt's parents chose to get out of Dodge. It was nothing personal, they just figured their time could be better spent. So could ours.
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