From Orphans to Lost Boys: Oscar Post #3

Though the curtains have fallen on the Oscar season, I’m posting about the other nominated (and winning) movies that I watched. I was busy during the weekend and full of anticipation. Happily, I was properly sated and am still grinning about the beautiful ceremony and the time spent with close friends. (More on that later!)

Slumdog Millionaire (****)

This was the second best picture nominee that I saw, and I liked it immediately. It is hard for me to watch children in movies suffer so there were a few scenes that made me squeamish and produced this overwhelming desire to run to the nearest adoption agency and ask for the Jolie Special. The entire film was intriguing and engaging.

Iron Man (***)

See, I like superheroes that are fun and exciting to watch. Robert Downey Jr. was perfect as the playboy turned superhero. Though infused with a bit of social commentary on terrorism and the effects of war, the film never lost its entertainment value. Also, you have to dig Jeff Bridges’s facial hair.

In Bruges (****)

This was the funniest movie of last year, possibly of the decade and/or recent memory. It had the savage wit of a Tarantino film without the attention deficit disorder. It made me want to vacation in Bruges – without the guns or the mob contacts.

The Reader (****)

The story is so moving and subtle, and all the acting is brilliant. I’ve been a fan of director Stephen Daldry ever since he directed The Hours, and he created such a haunting mood for this film. Kate Winslet was beautiful as always and gave a complex performance that had me in tears.

Bolt (***)

After I finished watching Bolt, I thought, “That was a charming, competent film, and I don’t have to defend seeing it to friends and family.” Then I remembered that it was a recent Disney film and was shocked.

Milk (***1/2)

Though I found it the most conventional movie of the bunch, I really liked Milk which is about Harvey Milk who I had learned of during those weeks of copious Internet research after I realized I was gay. Sean Penn was amazing as was Josh Brolin. My one complaint is that Victor Gabor was underused, but I suppose I should be thankful that he was in the movie at all.

The Curious Case of Benjamin Button (****)

While Revolutionary Road was the most disappointing movie of the year, this film was definitely that most surprising. Coupling my intense hatred for Forrest Gump with a big review from Roger Ebert, I was sure that this would be one of those films that I sat through, reminding myself that the Academy wasn’t a bunch of pushover hacks. However, this is my favorite of the best picture nominees.

Changeling (***1/2)

Clint Eastwood does moody very well. The action oscillates between stately to grisly. I was reminded how good Angelina Jolie really is. Her portrayal of a pained woman saddled with an ersatz child by a malicious police department could have been over the top, but she It left me feeling how fragile life is, how easily others can destroy it.

From Driving Lessons to Struggling Smugglers: Oscar Post #2

While jotting down my thoughts about the films of 2008, I couldn’t help smiling. It was such a good year for the movies. Most of the nominated films I’ve seen have been exceptionally good.

Happy-Go-Lucky (***)

It took fifteen minutes for this film to win me over. Before that, I was uncomfortable as I usually am when confronted with someone I don’t understand. And I certainly didn’t understand the gratuitously upbeat Poppy. I’m one of the most optimistic people I know, and I’m a depressive. However, Sally Hawkins won me over; she’s so charming in an uncontrived way. She finds the right mixture of optimistic joy and commonsense. She’s not joyful because she’s found a way to escape the world but has found a way to revel in it with all its flaws and complexities.

Kung Fu Panda (***)

This proves that everyone was in fact kung fu fighting. Jack Black voices a panda with lofty ambitions and a fanboy appreciation for the Fighting Five, an elite team of kung fu fighters. His father is a duck. No one acknowledges this. Add a guru turtle and the voice of Dustin Hoffman to the mix, and you have a great film.

Revolutionary Road (**)

After much anticipation and unspoken predictions of Oscar wins, I finally saw the film. Shit, I wanted it to be good. While watching it, I was convinced that it was good, and I was just missing something. But as I thought about it more and realized the missed opportunities of the script, I realized that it couldn’t be buoyed by brilliant performers or excellent cinematography. Though dysfunctional suburban family movies are a dime-a-dozen, they’re really hard to get right. Some like Little Children and Imaginary Heroes get it right and are insightful and provocative. Unfortunately, Revolutionary Road is fit for the list of ones that missed the target completely and thus is only middling fare. (One review that I read pointed out that it’s not much fun watching a two hour argument you have no stake in.)

The Dark Knight (**1/2)

I’m not denying it’s an excellent film; I’m just saying that I didn’t particularly care for it. I felt that it captured everything I dislike about comic books without highlighting any of the things that I enjoy. The narrative was meandering; the characters were not developed; the dialogue was stilted and tried way too hard. In the end, I felt that Nolan was the real embodiment of his Joker, morally obligating me to like his movie or a boatload of fans high on viral campaigns would blow me up. Again, it’s a fine film, but I’ll stick with Tim Burton’s Batman films.

The Visitor (***1/2)

Movies about personal redemption and learning to truly live life are suppose to be overly sentimental, fit only for Hallmark Channel or those Christian movie studios that seem to be gaining ground recently. However, this film sidesteps the schmaltz while still being a heartwarming film about friendship and awakening. If I could make one change to the Oscar nominees, it would be including Hiam Abbass in the Best Supporting Actress category for her nuanced performance. Seeing Richard Jenkins name among the nominees was unexpected and exciting.

Doubt (****)

Everything about this film’s plot is expertly measured and paced. While it is seems to be about truth, the actions of the characters overshadow the facts. Their intentions become more than truth, superior to truth. What you decide about Sister Aloysius and Father Flynn colors everything. Every time I felt a conviction, felt I knew the truth, something doesn’t quite add up, but still I shoulder on. Then of course, Viola Davis arrived on the scene in a powerhouse performance that completely unbalanced Sister Aloysius. Lacking Catholic conviction, I didn’t have a prayer. It felt like I was watching an intricate mystery where the solution was irrelevant.

Frost/Nixon (****)

I knew that I would like this movie. I just didn’t think it would so damn likable. Both Langella and Sheen are so compelling, and the intellectual struggle between the two is unimaginably intense. As they sat and sparred, I was completely immersed. Though I knew the outcome and had seen the Watergate portion of the interviews in school, I found myself fretting that David Frost was going to fail and the interviews would never come to fruition. I also indentified with Nixon a lot more than I wanted to. To make me warm to someone so reviled and parodied, the film must have done something extraordinary.

Frozen River (****)

I knew from the opening shots that I would like this film. The film opens with various shots of the bleak, icy landscape of upstate New York. It evoked Bergman films in my head and sets an austere tone for the film that is only warmed by the characters. At first, they seem a shabby bunch of resigned, broken people but soon their ambitions, desires, and dreams come to the surface. These vary from lost children to doublewide trailers to toy racetracks but somehow seem just as important as the plight of the illegal aliens they smuggle into the United States. Melissa Leo and Misty Upham are both phenomenal.

Next time: I ramble on about the awesomeness that is In Bruges, the brilliance of The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, and the pain of The Reader. Also, I recount my time among the opium dens and whorehouses of Colombia.

From Robots to a Wedding: Oscar Post #1

A few years ago, Stephanie introduced me to the glory that is the Academy Awards. Before this, I watched the awards ceremony arbitrarily and usually hadn’t seen more than a handful of the nominees. Most years I hadn’t seen any. So now, I derive great pleasure in watching the year’s best American cinema as distilled by people more film-intelligent (filmtelligent?) than me and then watching people get accolades for doing things I can’t.

Despite the criticism of the hip Internet people, I look forward to the ceremony and am always satisfied. I think people need to realize that it is essentially an awards assembly, and though it should be more interesting than watching a classmate win “Best Attendance” in an auditorium, it’s really the same kind of thing. Except no one there is wearing Keds… except perhaps Will Smith’s children.

So what follows are my thoughts of some of the nominees. These are the ones I actually saw in 2008 and didn’t cram into January and the first part of February.

Presto (**)
Cruelty to animals and revenge make me uncomfortable unless someone’s wearing yellow. Great animation though.

Wall-E (****)
Before I went to the theater to see this, I’d read an interview with Andrew Stanton in which he stated that the film was partly inspired by the silent films of Chaplin. Since I love the few Chaplin films I’ve seen, I went expecting a helluva lot and was not disappointed. Everything about this film is perfect. Plus, it was a way to see something recent with Kathy Najimy that wasn’t reruns of King of the Hill on Adult Swim.

Vicky Cristina Barcelona (****)
I love Woody Allen. Correction: I adore Woody Allen. There is exact one Woody Allen film that I hated. Unfortunately, this means explaining the virtues of flawed films like Small Time Crooks and Anything Else to friends and family. So when Woody Allen writes and directs a film that strikes just the right balance between smart and sexy, funny and poignant, I’m in absolute heaven. I was giddy leaving the theater.

Trailer for Revolutionary Road (****)
I saw this before Ghost Town and had a fanboy moment. Some people get excited about superhero flicks or revivals of franchises while others eagerly await the plethora of Sundance/art house films; I get excited about domestic strife films. The stars have aligned and Kate Winslet and Leonardo DiCaprio are reuniting for a haunting tale of domesticity gone wrong. I’m practically beside myself with glee.

The Duchess (***1/2)
If this film doesn’t win Best Costume, I’ll eat Ms. Jennings’s bonnet. Sometimes the costumes of a period piece are mere spectacle or technical exercise and other times they completely overshadow thinly drawn characters. Then there are those rare films where the costumes actually work with the characters without being overtly anachronistic. Keira Knightley has never looked better. (And also bonus points for Charlotte Rampling being there.)

Tropic Thunder (***)
I laughed a lot. I didn’t want to see this, but Jason did and there was nothing else at the dollar theater. It’s nice to find Ben Stiller watchable without Wes Anderson making him wear tracksuits. While Robert Downey Jr. and Tom Cruise were fantastic, my favorite character was Matthew McConaughey as the Tivo-obsessed agent. For some reason, I find him incredibly watchable.

Rachel Getting Married (****)
A lot of movies make me think, but few really make me experience feeling. At the risk of sounding like a DVD case blurb, this was my favorite movie of the year. Its documentary feel made me feel like I was in the movie experiencing these things, but it didn’t detract from the humanity and heart of the film which completely bowls you over. When Rachel finally gets the microphone at the rehearsal dinner, I felt just like I do in real life when I know someone’s going to make the situation awkward but can’t do anything about it. I think my favorite part is the car accident which is presented with such banality. I’ve often felt that the aftermath of a car accident would feel incredibly weird. Yes, I’ve been through an ordeal, but life goes on. You’ve still got to go to that wedding.

Next time: I pontificate about the thematic issues of truth in Doubt and Frost/Nixon, discuss the disarming charm of Happy-Go-Lucky and The Visitor and I battle an army of sharks and dinosaurs with a laser gun.

Ways to Win Friends #32: Through Understated Bullet Lists

It amazes me that the first month and a half of 2009 is already a thing of the past. Part of me wants to make the following joke: I think VH1 is premiering “I Love the January of 09 next weekend.” But part of me thinks that would be super lame.

For posterity, I’m going to quickly sum up the month of January in a nifty list. (I’ll hold off on the half of February until sometime… in the future.)

• I rang in the new year with Jason, Stephanie, and her family. There was merriment, a plethora of drinks, buffets of great food, and lots of games.
• I got the helix of my left ear pierced.
• Jenna (my sister) and I went to the American Impressionism at the art museum downtown. I fell in love with the paintings of Allen Tucker and Maurice Prendergast; she loved those of Gifford Beal. Unfortunately, they weren’t selling postcards of the exhibition at the museum store, but I was able to pick up a few from the Louvre exhibit for really cheap.
• Jason and I went golfing. I really sucked but have decided that I’m not really interested in being good at golf; I just enjoy playing.
• I read four books. None of them were written for children.
• I watched twenty-seven films, including nine nominated for Academy Awards this year.
• I watched the second season of Boston Legal. I did this really quickly. Every time I encounter a new show or a season of a show I like in a trendy DVD boxset, I promise myself that I won’t become obsessed and watch it in the course of a single week. Usually, I break this promise.
• I set up a blog (with the help of Stephanie) and an account on Shelfari.
• I listened to The Cranberries and Sam Cooke.

Beware the whine! Beware the ennui!

I haven’t posted yet because I didn’t want to start off with a whiny post. I’ve become a whiny person who is dissatisfied with everything, but I didn’t particularly want to dwell on that. I also didn’t want to simply relate my actions which aren’t typically worthy of reporting. However, I need to post and am in a melancholic, contemplative mood.

On my desk at work, there is exactly one item that distinguishes it as my desk. There is a little figure made out of red yarn with green pipe cleaner arms and those freaky craft eyes. However, these were made for the student workers for Christmas 2007 and quite a few were commandeered by various librarians and staff members to decorate their desks so this mark of distinction isn't the most original.

I keep meaning to bring personal effects to decorate with or at least a trendy calendar that points out one of my interests. But anything that I could use is packed away in boxes in my parents’ storage building, and I don’t really use non-electronic calendars. So my desk is bare except for work projects and a usually empty, forlorn inbox. Like Ryan in The Office, I could clean out my desk in five seconds.

My room at home is not much better. Yes, it would take me more time than five seconds to pack and move out, but it’s not really mine. It’s furnished with bulky wooden pieces picked out by someone else and painted a garish blue. I’ve crowded it will books and movies and art projects that are painfully disorganized. And I need organization, now more than ever. As a child I couldn’t think or function if my room or the house were in disarray. Recently, I’m exhibiting these same idiosyncrasies. I know that being flustered by a mess is normal for most people, but I’m not exaggerating when I say I couldn’t function. I couldn’t concentrate on anything until I had cleaned up and put everything away.

Living with my grandparents is usually fun, but it’s also a place closely connected to my childhood so I feel emotionally stunted sometimes. It’s as if I never fully grew up or developed that self-reliance all the books talk about.

Back to the point: my life seems so transitory at the moment, and transitory living has always made me uneasy. When I go to my brother’s apartment, I’m always slightly off balance. He only wants the apartment for the space of time before he moves to go back to college so the walls are bare and everything feels tentative. It’s definitely a space built for people to inhabit for small amounts of time.

Unfortunately, my period of transition has drug on for almost three years during which I’ve had two jobs I really disliked, have not lived on my own, and have been relatively reclusive.

All of this is starting to get to me, and my writing has recently suffered. I never work on a single poem or idea anymore. I always have at least three poems open when I write and jump for one to another with no clear purpose. I’m nervous while I write and hypersensitive to the fact that I’ve no real direction beyond “I want to write and write well” which is the chorus of an entire subset of humanity who are usually in overly stark or artistic independent films that also deal with disaffection and/or addiction. However, I’m not disaffected and have no addiction.

Sometimes I have the urge to withdraw all my money, pack some books, my cat, and my clothes into my car and just drive away as if I were a movie character, one of those terribly romantic, impulsive people that probably doesn’t exist in the real world. Of course, if they did exist on a massive scale, the market economy would probably crash, making it impossible to live. So I suppose I’ll stay put.