Revolutionary Road
As far as I'm concerned, this was the best movie of 2008. Sure, Slumdog Millionaire had the whole Little-Engine-That-Could aura about it, but it was such a singular story whereas Revolutionary Road grapples themes to which almost anyone can relate. I've heard some critics say that this is a film about middle class angst, but I disagree — it's about the fallacy of the suburban fantasy, about the dangers of complacency and the regret that comes from dreams deferred.
Kate Winslet is brilliant as April Wheeler, a 1950s housewife living in the suburbs of Connecticut and raising her two children with husband Frank Wheeler (Leonardo DiCaprio). The film kicks off when the two first meet, both harboring dreams of living extraordinary, memorable lives — Frank muses about how folks in Paris truly know how to appreciate life and how he wishes he could settle over there, while April discusses her hopes of becoming a successful actress. But these dreams are put on hold after the newlyweds have their first child. Wanting to create a "stable" household for their family, they buy a house in the suburbs and Frank accepts a job as a salesman at the same company where his father once worked. Almost a decade later, their "temporary" suburban lifestyle has become a permanent one. Both have allowed the years to pass them by, becoming complacent with simply going through the motions instead of living life to the fullest and chasing their passions. In the meanwhile, they've grown to resent one another, holding each other responsible for their respective feelings of emptiness.
Determined to change the course of their lives, April suggests they move to Paris, that they start their lives over in a new place. For a moment, the spark in her eyes is restored and his boyish optimism returns, but will they really have the courage to follow the plan or will they think twice when others mock them and call their plan unrealistic?
It's such a common conundrum. How many people find themselves stunted by social norms, by notions of what the "responsible" thing to do is? How many people put their dreams on pause and forget to press the "play" button again? That's the brilliance of this film: it tackles these issues with grace and subtlety, and the result is a riveting cinematic masterpiece that will prompt you to do your own soul-searching.
(*****)Confessions of a Shopaholic (Two-Disc Special Edition + Digital Copy)
Given all the hoopla surrounding this title (and everyone heralding Isla Fisher as some Debra Messing-meets-Sarah Jessica Parker comedic queen), I expected a way more memorable and satisfying film. To say that Confessions of A Shopaholic fell short of my expectations would be a massive understatement. Considering it's a film about a shopaholic, there's actually very little shopping done in the film (ironic, I know), so don't expect many eye candy shots of gorgeous couture and chic boutiques (the most you'll get is the green scarf that becomes a part of Fisher's character's writing pseudonym) and a very brief scene inside a Prada boutique. And, while much was discussed about Patricia Fields and her work as the film's costume designer, this is no SATC and Becky Bloomwood (Isla Fisher) is no Carrie Bradshaw. Considering she manages to rack up over 12k in debt due to her credit card abuse, I expected her outfits to stop traffic at every turn — but, truth be told, there's nothing too unique about the fashions spotted in the film (the outfits are neither better nor worse than what you would've seen on Dirty Sexy Money or Lipstick Jungle). So let's start with one of the main viewing dilemmas: a heroine with a spending problem and no cute fashions to show for it. What kind of nonsense is THAT?
Now, let's move on to the storyline. The film kicks off with Becky Bloomwood, a young journalist with champagne tastes (and parents who prefer to keep more of a McDonald's budget), rushing to an interview a fashion magazine. But when she finds out the job has been filled, she instead vies for a position at a savings publication (hoping she can later transfer to the fashion pub). The whole manner through which she lands a job at a financial magazine is just bogus — waltzing into an interview without ever actually being called in, bombing the face-to-face interview, and then managing to change her boss's mind with a shoe-related piece with a financial subtext that accidentally lands on his desk (really, what are the odds an E.I.C. would have even personally opened a letter from a disappointing interview candidate?). It's beyond unrealistic — as a twenty-something writer, she'd be pushing papers and fetching coffee for her boss, not penning her own column and becoming some sort of expert financial journo (not to mention that savings articles aren't exactly sexy attention grabbers). In a predictable plot twist, romantic feelings develop between Becky and her boss, but their relationship is threatened because of some of the secrets Becky is keeping (such as her financial irresponsibility and the fact that a psycho creditor is literally stalking her).
In the end, this movie is meant to have a redemptive message about the dangers of overspending, the inability to buy happiness, and the need to treasure the important, invaluable things in life (family, friends, relationships, etc.). Unfortunately, the journey to that sugary end isn't exactly charming, quirky or even particularly funny. Fisher is at her best when doing physical comedy, but she lacks a certain relatability — which, in turn, makes her dialogue fall flat (even when it's laden with cutesy jokes and wannabe clever one-liners). The fact that she keeps falling in and out of her Australian accent also keeps viewers from completely connecting to her character. But, in her defense, she is working with a cheesy, predictable, dull script. All in all, you'll hardly be addicted to Confessions.
(**)Spinning into Butter
Sarah Jessica Parker plays Sarah Daniels, the Dean of Students, in this drama about racism at a supposedly liberal college in New England. When a black student becomes the target of a hate crime (he receives a venomous anonymous note with threatening language and racial slurs), Daniels is tapped to lead the investigation — and to calm students' anxieties (a Herculean task). Of course, Daniels can't do much to properly address the issue given that the administration's main preoccupation is covering up the events that transpired so as to maintain a "positive" image for potential applicants. A mandated discussion about race turns into a one-sided monologue, with the school's administration spewing PR-friendly rhetoric about unity and acceptance, angering the entire student body. And, when a reporter starts snooping around, the atmosphere becomes even more tense, as school administrators scurry about, trying to block his access to the student body and pretending everything is business-as-usual. As the drama unfolds, we start to learn all the racial prejudices everyone bears — including Dean Daniels herself.
Sarah Jessica Parker is a fish out of water in this film, drifting into Carrie Bradshaw-esque behavior every so often. Beau Bridges and Miranda Richardson also give subpar performances. But the main issue is the haphazard manner in which both the script and the actual film were thrown together. Though the film hopes to spark an honest and nuanced discussion about race (and the extent to which people who consider themselves liberal and open-minded still, oftentimes, harbor racial prejudices deep inside), it doesn't quite reach its goal. The depiction of how the students react to the tense atmosphere is ridden with clichés and the dialogue feels forced and unrealistic. Victor Rasuk, for example, plays a Nuyorican student who is torn over receiving a scholarship because, in order to do so, he would have had to check the box "Hispanic" (instead of "Latino") or describe his ethnicity as "Puerto Rican" (as opposed to "Nuyorican"). Yes, the way these government forms (starting with the census) fail to acknowledge the mixed racial heritage of Latinos is a huge problem, and many Latinos (including myself) find the term Hispanic problematic. But, that being said, I don't know a single Nuyorican who would turn down a scholarship because he/she was asked to pencil in "Puerto Rican" under ethnicity. It's almost like they didn't even bother consulting any people of color while putting together this film! And, of course, in the end, we're supposed to still believe in the almighty white woman with the heart of gold (cue gagging sound). See, viewers eventually discover Dean Daniels' own racial hang-ups — but, apparently, the producers couldn't have us disliking good ol' SJP, so they threw together a ridiculous ending meant to depict her as a changed, enlightened, likable woman (yeah, right!).
Spinning into Butter? More like spinning into chaos.
(*)Guns
I'm sure this movie could be worse — I just don't know how. The mere fact that this travesty goes on for nearly three hours is unforgivable — movies as magnificent as The Curious Case of Benjamin Button barely get away with clocking those kind of lengths, so imagine a movie that barely makes it onto the DVD rack!
Besides the length, the main problem with GUNS is that it aims absurdly high and hence falls horrifically short. Mainly, the director tries to create a Traffic-esque storyline, where audiences can see how the gun trade affects a vast array of people from different walks of life — there's ruthless, greedy arms dealer (Paul Duguid) and his son knucklehead son Bobby (Gregory Smith), who manages to get his naive girlfriend Frances (Elisha Cuthbert) into a web of trouble; there's a mother who loses her toddler daughter to a stray bullet when a shoot-out breaks out in a sidewalk; there are various politicians vying for votes and tailoring their stance on gun control accordingly; there's Ford Saunders (Lyriq Bent), a police officer trying to discover who is responsible for bringing all these weapons into the state; there's Derek (K.C. Collins), a promising high school student who, due to family connections, still has one foot planted in the streets; and more. Sure, the idea of showcasing the nuances of the gun trade and the ways in which firearms permeate our society is genius, but doing so in a believable and aptly complex manner presents quite the challenge — and this film fails epically. There's little character development, the writing is superficial, the dialogue trite, and the connections between characters strained (not to mention the sub par acting).
Too long with this movie, and even the most avid anti-gun activist will feel the urge to shoot the screen.
(*)Taken (Single-Disc Extended Edition)
Liam Neeson takes no prisoners in this exhilarating, shadowy, and often seedy action flick. The premise is simple enough: Neeson plays Bryan Miller, a US mercenary (or a "preventor," as he refers to himself) who abandons his career in order to move closer to his teen daughter, Kimmy, from whose life he's been absent due to his constant work responsibilities. His ex-wife Lenore (played by Famke Janssen), meanwhile, has remarried a wealthy man and treats Bryan with contempt and resentment. These strained relationships, however, are established early on in the film (and, thankfully, without too much melodrama) and mainly work to show the lengths to which Bryan will go for his child.
Ironically, the career that served as the catalyst for the unraveling of Bryan's family, also provided him with the special skills he ends up utilizing to save his daughter's life when she's kidnapped during a summer trip to Paris. Sure, the kidnapping scene requires some suspension of belief — I mean, what are the odds of Kimmy being on the phone with her father as the perps break into her friend Amanda's apartment in Paris and snatch the two of them up? But, once you get over that bump, you can just buckle your seat belt and enjoy the ride. A brooding Neeson wreaks havoc throughout Paris as he attempts to find his daughter, who has apparently been abducted by sex slave traders. Every fight scene, shooting spree, and care chase unfolds with remarkable grace and ease, and the absence of silly Die Hard-esque catchphrases makes Neeson appear all the more ruthless and determined (which in turn, makes audiences root for him even harder).
The film's depiction of the sex slave trade, meanwhile, is even more harrowing than the portrayal of snuff films in 8MM. There are Hollywood-esque elements, of course, but the film does depict certain aspects of the sex trade with incredible accuracy and the proper severity.
If you want an adrenaline-pumping, kick-ass action flick, look no further.
(****)Wendy and Lucy
Michelle Williams is a chameleon-like actress of incredible grace and, while her performances are consistently satisfying, she tends to excel most when playing complicated, moody characters. Here, Williams plays Wendy, a cash-strapped young woman who leaves her home in Indiana and drives from place to place, en route to Alaska (where she plans to find work), accompanied only by her dog Lucy. Timid, soft-spoken, and slightly socially awkward, Wendy often appears listless and lonely (though we never learn why she left home, a phone call to her sister suggests a strained relationship)— if not downright desolate. When her car breaks down in a small, unassuming town in Oregon and she unwittingly loses her beloved Lucy, Wendy must extend her stay and figure out how to survive (especially given her limited finances) in these new surroundings.
Billed as a character study, Wendy and Lucy does offer an interesting portrayal of a free-spirited yet troubled, idealistic yet oft misunderstood young woman — all thanks to Williams' quietly thunderous performance. And, while director Kelly Reichardt captures the essence of this sleepy, rural town, in doing so, she also sets a slow-moving pace that requires a bit too much patience from viewers. Sure, one could argue that Reichardt was aiming for a subtle, poetic effect, juxtaposing Wendy's life with her surroundings' mood, but the plot itself will prove to be simply too sluggish for most viewers to withstand.
(**)The Curious Case of Benjamin Button (Two-Disc Special Edition)
A period piece, drama, love story and magical tale wrapped in one glorious package, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button compels viewers to reexamine the way they see life, death, and love. Brad Pitt stars as Benjamin Button, a man born in post-WWI New Orleans whose mother passes at childbirth and whose father abandons him in front of a boisterous boarding house. Why? Well, at birth, Benjamin Button bears the bone structure, wrinkled skin, and failing organ functions of a man well into his '80s. Although a doctor estimates that the newborn will only live a few more days or weeks, the woman who found the abandoned child on her doorstep, Queenie (played impeccably by Taraji P. Henson), refuses to give up hope. A devout Christian, she takes him in as her very own child and watches in astonishment as Benjamin survives year after year, becoming stronger, more agile and even looking younger as time progresses.
The first half of the movie focuses on establishing Benjamin's "curious" condition, with director David Fincher and director of photography Claudio Miranda (along with a star-studded team of makeup artists and visual effects experts) gracefully capturing his metamorphosis from a toddler who resembles a tiny, frail old man to a teen who favors a stronger, 60-something fella, and so forth. Visually, this portion of the film is pretty stunning, but, in terms of the storyline, it serves mostly as set-up for the latter half of the film (and it does occasionally drag on unnecessarily for the sake of presenting stunning cinematography). It's in this first half of the film that the movie stumbles a bit, with the occasional, gratuitously hokey, Forrest Gump-esque moments (a scene where a 7-year-old Benjamin is taken to church comes to mind, as well as a caricature-ish depiction of a tugboat captain for whom Benjamin begins to work). Still, these are small hiccups, nothing that truly detracts from the film's magical quality.
The movie's light is turned on for act two, when Benjamin reunites with Daisy (Cate Blanchett), the girl he'd met when he himself was a mere child (old as he may have looked) and whom he'd always loved. The way in which they find one another, the moment in their lives when they finally connect, and the way their love affair unfolds is beautifully choreographed, but what makes the dynamic so interesting is that both realize their lives are moving in opposite directions, as Benjamin grows younger while his beloved grows older. How can their love survive considering these outstanding circumstances (i.e. the notion of "growing old together" being inapplicable)? I won't reveal the final outcome but I will say it's wistful, sad, moving and inspirational all at once.
The beauty in this film, for me, lies in how it makes us rethink certain paradigms. If you imagine life as a circle, then birth and death ultimately hold the same spot (think of it as the midnight position on a clock), but it's the other phases of the cycle (childhood, adolescence, etc.) that comprise the remaining arcs. In Benjamin's case, the cycle of life is reversed. Think of it as him moving counter-clockwise within this "circle of life" construct (even though time is moving forward, on a surface level, it would appear that he's moving from death to birth). But regardless of the direction in which Benjamin's life moves, it, like any other, will also have a beginning and an end. Benjamin's understanding of the inevitability of death and the ephemeral nature of every life stage compels him to make the most of every second. Meanwhile, it's fascinating to watch the way his relationship with Daisy morphs depending on the different circumstances framing their individual paths. In the end, it's a testament to how love can take on so many different forms, all of them strong and all-consuming, however different or "curious" they might be.
(****)October Road - The Complete Second Season
Watching the second season of October Road is not unlike holding vigil by someone's deathbed — countless quiet and dull hours, sporadic moments of hope, tons of reflection and recollection, rare shows of vitality and, after a long while, the final gasp. Perhaps the main difference is that, with this, there's no sense of loss — just the reality of lost time (spent watching, that is).
In Season 1, novelist Nick Garrett (played by an adorable Bryan Greenberg) returns to his hometown after a 10-year hiatus, slowly adjusts to life in the small town, becomes reacquainted with old friends, and rekindles his connection with former high school girlfriend Hannah (played by Laura Prepon). By the end of the first season, Nick confesses his true feelings to Hannah and asks that the two build a life together, along with Hannah's son Sam (even though he's not quite sure who Sam's father is since it's a secret Hannah has kept hidden over the years). Hannah, of course, doesn't respond in the season finale, so that Season 2 opens with audiences awaiting her reaction.
And talk about a let-down! What could have turned into a juicy plot line is instead tossed aside so that the majority of the feelings between these two characters is explored through sloppy (and unbearably cheesy) flashbacks of their high school romps. The other characters (save for Nick's best friend Eddie), meanwhile, fail to be compelling or riveting enough for audiences to invest in them emotionally. The main players are: Nick's friend, Owen, who has discovered his wife's affair with his best friend Ikey and is struggling to forgive them both (yet goes about his healing process in the strangest and most unrealistic of ways); his weirdo shut-in friend, Phil, who manages to find a girlfriend even as he refuses to leave the apartment; and his best friend Eddie, the popular lothario who is finally overcoming his shallow ways and dating Janet, the nice, chubby girl he once shunned in high school.
Boring, unrealistic, and utterly devoid of any personality, this second season redefines the term sophomore slump. Simply put: there was no bouncing back from this.
(**)Smother
Yes, folks, there is a movie that's even less funny than Death To Smoochy — for 92 minutes of failed, bore-your-eyes-out bad humor, just pop in this DVD, starring Diane Keaton as an overbearing mother who moves in with her unemployed son (Dax Sheperd) and his live-in girlfriend (Liv Tyler). Sure, most people can relate to the overbearing mom scenario, but without a solid plot, sympathetic characters, or clever jokes, all audiences are left with is a mediocre idea and a catastrophic execution. Sure, the sight of Diane Keaton in a ridiculous pumpkin-shaped Halloween costume might stir up a few chuckles, but it's downhill after that — and sadly, that moment transpires within the first 15 minutes. Unless you want to use this as a coaster or some sort of torture device, don't bother renting (much less buying) this fiasco.
Notorious (Single-Disc Edition)
Critics showered praise on this Notorious B.I.G. biopic, starring Jamal Crawford as the iconic Brooklyn rapper. As much as I loathe being the voice of discontent, I actually found Notorious to be riddled with Hollywood clichés, caricature-esque depictions (the portrayal of Tupac, played by Anthony Mackie, was particularly one-sided and insulting to the man's legacy) and ill-advised casting (Derek Luke as Puffy comes to mind, as does Angela Bassett as Mrs. Wallace).
Sure, Jamal Crawford is the big surprise here — he manages to pull off an almost impossible feat, channeling much of Biggie's trademark swagger, flawless delivery (even his voice does B.I.G. justice), and charming sense of humor. And the soundtrack, of course, will energize any Biggie fan — hearing songs like "Suicidal Thoughts," "Juicy," and "Big Poppa" will send you right down a delicious memory lane. In that regard, the movie's impact can't be denied.
But those seeking a more authentic, nuanced portrayal of Christopher Wallace's life will find the movie has more fluff than substance. Nowhere in the film is Lance "Un" Rivera, Biggie's childhood friend and one of the most influential people in his life, even mentioned, nor is Charlie Baltimore included in the film (an interesting omission given that Baltimore was Biggie's live-in girlfriend after his separation from Faith Evans). The film also skims over his complicated, passionate and volatile marriage to Faith Evans — and, if you've read Faith's memoir Keep the Faith, you already know Faith had a much stronger temperament than what the film suggests). The manner in which the East Coast/West Coast beef unfolded is also barely addressed, as the film rushes through the final stages in Biggie's life while lending entirely too much screen time to his early years. His closeness to Puff, meanwhile, is completely exaggerated (probably due to Puff's own involvement in the film's production, which could also explain why Derek Luke was cast to play him). But perhaps the most annoying scenes involve Angela Bassett, who takes overacting to a whole new level as Mrs. Wallace and who slips in and out of her Jamaican accent, rendering her entire performance inauthentic and far from credible.
Is it a bad movie? No, far from it. But to uphold this movie as an authentic and credible account of Biggie's life would be a complete fallacy.
(***)
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