I Love You, Man

** ½ out of ****

In an age when Brody Jenner is searching for his new best friend by way of “bromance” on MTV, it should come as no surprise that Hollywood would eventually make a film based on this kind of distinctly heterosexual union between two buddies. The film is “I Love You, Man,” which, like “I Now Pronounce You Chuck and Larry,” also appropriates the idea of homosexual romance and twists it into heterosexual humor.

This film centers on Peter (Paul Rudd), a real estate agent who has just become engaged to Zooey (Rashida Jones) and realizes he has absolutely no groomsmen to match the bevy of female friends his fiancée espouses. He decides to ask his father (a well-cast J.K. Simmons) to be his “best man,” but he changes his mind after his father only indicates Peter’s gay brother (Andy Samberg from “SNL”) to be one of his two best friends (“Along with, Hank, of course,” Hank being a friend of thirty years). Thus, Peter decides to go on some “man-dates” to find a best friend who can ultimately become his “best man.” After his first few attempts to find real friends do not pan out, he gives up and throws himself into selling the mansion of Lou Ferrigno (who makes an amusing cameo). There, he meets an uncouth prospective client named Sydney (Jason Segel), only around for the delicious paninis and the attempts to hit on divorcées, who eventually becomes the buddy Peter never had—they both love fish tacos, walking "Anwar Sadat," Sydney's dog (apparently named so because of his striking resemblance to the former Egyptian president), and jamming to the music of Rush. Soon, however, the time Peter spends with Sydney starts to compromise his happiness with Zooey, putting a strain on their relationship just weeks before the wedding. Furthermore, when Sydney’s motives for befriending Peter become questionable, Peter is put in a bind. What is a “bro” to do?

“I Love You, Man” is probably the funniest commercial film since “Knocked Up,” and it is full of original jokes and wit certain to inspire fits of uncontrollable laughter (as you can glean from the plot alone). It seems as if, based on the beginning of the film, the humor will rely mostly upon crudeness, sex, and gross-outs, but eventually the film settles into itself. The humor becomes pleasantly and surprisingly hilarious because a good deal of it hinges on the main characters’ awkwardness. (One great thing about “I Love You, Man” is that all of the characters are fleshed out well.)

Paul Rudd makes an amusing main character who generates humor through his dependence on imitations of leprechauns (or things that apparently sound like leprechauns) and awkwardly constructed slang words (which fit the character so well that they almost seem ad-libbed on cue). However, he lacks the innate charm of other major comic actors, such as Seth Rogen, so he is ultimately overshadowed by co-star Jason Segel, who falls into the character of grungy, unconventional Sydney so well that his performance can best be described with a certain “je-ne-sais-quoi.” Anyone who can make normal the ensemble of a button-up shirt, swimming trunks, and Ugg boots while walking an Egyptian-named dog and growling in men’s faces like said dog is putting in a “tour-de-force” performance in my opinion.

Amusingly enough, this film reeks of Judd Apatow and Seth Rogen, but incidentally, neither has ever been involved with it. (A good deal of this misattribution likely rests upon the appearances of Paul Rudd and Jason Segel, both of whom appear in several of the films Apatow has produced and directed.) Nonetheless, the humor is very much in the vein of “The 40-Year-Old Virgin,” “Knocked Up,” and “Forgetting Sarah Marshall.” “I Love You, Man” is probably the best “buddy movie” in recent memory, and it depends heavily on its quotable one-liners, hilarious situations, and funny actors. For the 105 minutes “I Love You, Man” is onscreen, prepare to be entertained—the humor makes up for the film's lack of depth. It is not as if the Apatow films do not lack themselves either—all that matters is that you are laughing.

Originally published in the March 25 issue of Versus Magazine: Entertainment & Culture

Read more...

A Change is Gonna Come...

Where did the title go? For you loyal readers, I shall remind you that after 121 posts, I am now about to finish my first year online! On March 26, my blog will have been a whole year old, so I think it is time to celebrate that year. To match the sophistication I think my blog and reviews have achieved in that time (especially in recent months), I want to make the title more sophisticated, as well. Although "Grimwood's Great Film Reviews" was sufficient enough so far, I do not want such a title to reflect any kind of intrinsic narcissism or poorly conceived naming anymore. Thus, on March 26th at 4:00 p.m., the time my site went online one year ago, you will see a brand new title on my blog. Get ready because it will be so much more interesting. Be there or be square.

*NOTE: No need to press "read more" beyond this. Thank you.*

Read more...

In the News: Natasha Richardson

I only saw her act in one film, Disney's 1998 remake of "The Parent Trap," but I know her credits extend far beyond that one. In any case, the death of actress Natasha Richardson is a tragic one and certainly too soon for her young age of 45. (Her skiing accident-related death also recalls the death of Sonny Bono eleven years ago...) The following write-up on this respected actress' life is derived from the Associated Press/Yahoo! News (but paraphrased)...

Tony-winning actress ("Cabaret") Natasha Richardson died Wednesday at Lenox Hill Hospital in Manhattan of a brain injury sustained Monday after falling on a ski slope in Quebec. Her accidental death, the result of bleeding between the skull and the brain's covering, has been ruled an accident. Richardson will likely become best-known for her work on Broadway ("Cabaret," "Closer," "Streetcar Named Desire"), but she was also a film actress, playing roles in "Patty Hearst," "The Comfort of Strangers," "Nell," and the 1998 Disney remake of "The Parent Trap." Richardson was born in London in 1963 to Oscar-winners Vanessa Redgrave and Tony Richardson. She was the grandchild of Oscar-nominee Michael Redgrave and stage/film actress Rachel Kempson. She leaves behind her husband, Oscar-nominee Liam Neeson, two sons, Micheál and Daniel, and a sister, actress Joely Richardson.

Farewell, Natasha. You will be missed.

Read more...

Two Lovers

* ½ out of ****

“Two Lovers” is a significant film because it features what actor Joaquin Phoenix is calling his “last film role” as he goes off to pursue a career in rap music. This fact is about all that is significant about “Two Lovers.”

The story concerns a young bipolar man (Phoenix) who lives with his “émigré” parents in New York City and works for their dry cleaning business after his fiancée leaves him. Eventually, he meets his “lovers”: the nice Jewish woman his parents want him to marry (Vinessa Shaw) and the mysterious “shiksa” who lives in the same building (Gwyneth Paltrow). This plot might sound intriguing, but it all comes off rather tepidly. It is a drama, but not quite the romance the title implies and certainly not passionate (in many respects). The dialogue is flat, banal, and unconvincing and spoken by actors who, though well-known, are overwhelmingly unimpressive. However, the appearance of Isabella Rossellini is always quite a treat (she even shares the strikingly soft features of her mother, Ingrid Bergman, these days) and here she plays the mother of Leonard (Phoenix), but it hardly makes up for the oil-and-vinegar onscreen chemistry of Leonard, Michelle (Paltrow), and Sandra (Shaw). (Even Jack Black and Gwyneth Paltrow had better chemistry in “Shallow Hal”!) I found myself wondering several times why Joaquin Phoenix even has the titular two lovers because he lacks palpable sex appeal in the film. Though something of a method actor, his approach to Leonard is generally awkward and uninteresting. (What a dud for “Going out with a bang.”)

Vinessa Shaw is perhaps the best actor in the film playing the most sympathetic character. She accurately personifies simple, normal Sandra with unglamorous charm. Sandra, though not as beautiful and more ordinary in comparison to Michelle, is selfless and pleasant. On the other hand, Gwyneth Paltrow, for whom the role of Michelle was written (according to imdb.com), delivers a performance about which I am indifferent—so indifferent that I really have little to say about it.

The filmmaking is pretty unforgivable because director James Gray’s fourth directorial effort comes off as amateur and uneven film school fodder. Though the subject material may be cliché (woman falls in love with married man who will not leave his family; man has unrequited love for woman), it might have held up as melodrama had the acting not been so lackluster and the dialogue so trite. Nevertheless, the plot drive is choppy and generally insipid. It has shining moments, but those only occur when the acting does become effective. In other parts, the story grows oppressively tedious. Meanwhile, the film’s choppiness also becomes apparent by way of the camera. The cinematography at the beginning of the film presents tight framing that leaves some visual information hidden, confusing viewers, but this curiously makes interpreting what is going on much more interesting and pertinent. However, this different approach at visual storytelling seems quickly abandoned in favor of a conventional one (the camera as an invisible narrator), which is quite unsatisfying in light of the approach at the beginning of the film.

Because of the general lifelessness of the film’s visuals, story, and acting, I contemplated leaving the theater several times because walking anywhere would have been more interesting. (I rarely seriously consider such things, by the way.) As a word of warning, if you are searching for the grand love story on par with “Casablanca,” then stay home—romancing any kind of stone would be more fulfilling.

Originally published in the March 18 issue of Versus Magazine: Entertainment & Culture

Read more...

Watchmen

**** out of ****

It should come as no surprise that the mid-80s DC Comics maxi-series that redefined the medium of comic books would later become the film that would (re-)revolutionize the superhero genre. Hot on the heels of last summer’s epic blockbuster, “The Dark Knight,” “Watchmen” may actually eclipse it in terms of visual style, plausible narrative drive, and density. Though “The Dark Knight” is notably more elaborate than most “superhero movies,” incorporating the feel of a crime drama, “Watchmen” has a more stylized look, like a colorized version of “Sin City,” but also embracing “a bit of the old ultra-violence” and philosophy of Kubrick’s “Clockwork Orange.” While the conflicts in “The Dark Knight” seem created at will to keep the film moving, the conflict of “Watchmen” builds slowly into a mind-blowing climax. If “The Dark Knight” was almost perfect, “Watchmen,” supported by the brilliant original story by Alan Moore (who requested to be uncredited) and Dave Gibbons and sharp direction of Zack Snyder (“300”), is a masterpiece.

But it was a masterpiece that almost never saw the light of day. “Watchmen” festered in “development hell” for twenty years, falling into the hands of several studios, screenwriters, and directors before finally settling into Warner Bros. with Snyder at the helm. While others had tried to interpret “Watchmen” in different times and settings with occasionally different events, Snyder emphasized integrity to the original comic book series and made, for all intents and purposes, a faithful adaptation. The story remains the same—former non-powered, costumed adventurers find themselves being killed off one by one while the world hinges on the brink of nuclear destruction in a Cold War-ridden alternate 1985. Snyder tweaks things here and there, though. He removes the “Under the Hood” texts and the vignette “Tales of the Black Freighter” but does allude to them briefly, and he cleverly streamlines the story of the first team of heroes, the Minutemen, by a montage of alternate American history in the credit sequence. Otherwise, he adapts the comic book—often word-for-word and image-by-image—to the screen. Putting a comic book on the screen could cause the story to retain the two-dimensional feel, but “Watchmen” is far from flat. It lives because Snyder realizes that film is a medium all its own, just like comic books, so he uses the specific powers of film to make the story even more visually real and compelling. For example, the film’s climax (of which you “Watchmen” readers are well aware) made me feel literally suffocated, whereas the images from the comic book were striking but unaffecting. In general, a good deal of the (literally) graphic, violent images of the comic book transferred with unprecedented intensity to the screen.

Meanwhile, whoever chose to steer clear of the “big names” in casting made an excellent choice. Jude Law, Tom Cruise, and Keanu Reeves had all, at one point, been attached to the film in its various stages of development, but thankfully, a casting director realized “the star system” would be too heavy for “Watchmen,” detracting from its unbelievably complex story. All of the main actors personify their characters well, but the real star of the film is Jackie Earle Haley as Rorschach. If the Academy is going to nominate and endow Heath Ledger with an Oscar for his work as the Joker in “The Dark Knight,” then they must consider Haley for his work. Though hidden under his mask for most of the film, Haley embodies the mysterious, shrewd detective so well that his performance frighteningly reproduces the character. He effaces emotion, but he contains it, as he is sickened by the morally devoid world around him. (Moral ambiguity festers from start to finish in “Watchmen,” and the horrifying conclusion rests on this potent theme.) The computer-animated blots on Rorschach’s mask are a nice touch on the part of visual effects—they help viewers (attempt to) read him even if they cannot see his face. Anyway, the performance is seamless and anyone would be hypocritical to recognize Ledger's contribution to a “superhero movie” without acknowledging Haley's equally admirable work.

Interpreting this “superhero movie” on a greater scale, the whole genre can never again be snubbed or rebuffed as amateur. “The Dark Knight” was the herald, but “Watchmen” is the tower. “Watchmen” transforms the laughable “hero saves the world with no real story” film (a.k.a. “X-Men”) into a masterpiece of visual, narrative, psychological, and philosophical sharpness. “Watchmen” is going to be loved, first and foremost, by the fans of the comic book series/graphic novel. However, this does not mean that the film itself (all 163 minutes) is incapable of being digested by people new to the story. The fights would at least capture the interest of action film junkies, and the story still has bite in today’s post-9/11 world. The film is brutally graphic, but the visuals are so alive that they pack more wallop than even that pencil scene from the “The Dark Knight” did. Again, if you thought “The Dark Knight” was something to see, then you should see “Watchmen.”

Originally published (in abridged form) in the March 11 issue of Versus Magazine: Entertainment & Culture

Read more...

The Passion of Joan of Arc (La Passion de Jeanne d’Arc)

*** out of ****

Eat your heart out, Mel Gibson—Carl Theodor Dreyer’s meditative “The Passion of Joan of Arc (La Passion de Jeanne d’Arc),” a film now over eighty years old, reigns among all “passion films” because of its powerful visual concentration on the emotional final hours of martyred Joan of Arc. Dreyer’s age-old tale of the young French heroine omits her days of glory and instead humanizes her final hours, which have become the stuff of legend, falling on increasingly indifferent ears as time passes. His potent film attempts to bring the tale to life through stunning close-ups and sharp angles, replete with the angry faces of religious officials and especially the tormented face of Joan herself. However, because the story itself, as can be expected, is already known from the first second, the events and especially the inexhaustible close-ups of Joan sobbing before the camera become a bit tiresome.

Nevertheless, often cited as a marvel of significant visual innovativeness for its use of close-ups, “The Passion” uses the camera extraordinarily effectively. The abundance of close-up shots is astounding visual artistry, certainly revolutionary for its time. Close-ups had never, before or possibly since, been utilized in such an innovative and clever way to communicate human emotion.

The emotional rawness of Renée Maria Falconetti certainly stands out in “The Passion.” Before Demi Moore was rolling perfect tears down her cheek in “Ghost,” Falconetti showed the world how it was done (the Award for Most Tears on Film goes to…). While silent cinema stars were often directed to act a bit exaggeratedly for the camera, the genuineness of Falconetti’s performance runs contrary to this notion and predates the idea of the “method actor.” Emotionally stripped before the camera’s proliferation of imprisoning close-ups, she is largely silent as the religious officials who constantly surround her condemn her as a heretic. Her tears, wide eyes, and upturned gaze are the only confirmations that viewers require to comprehend her state. Even then, she turns Joan into one of the most tragic characters on film through the anguish her unglorified face, with the help of cinematography and no makeup, ardently conveys.

While I have long found it difficult to connect to “passion films,” the film’s visual artistry is undeniable. The plot itself can sometimes become a little tedious, especially when it feels like the film drags its feet a bit in its transition from trial to torture to execution (with a runtime of only eighty minutes!). I personally grew weary of the millions of close-ups of Falconetti with water gushing out of her eyes and anxiously awaited the execution. Although I realize all of those shots are critical to communicating her anguish in the last hours of her life, a good deal of the film might as well be one close-up shot on Joan as she cries and cries and cries and cries some more. (Did Dreyer never hear that less is more?)

Nevertheless, in terms of the visuals, “The Passion of Joan of Arc” is a masterpiece. However, the story itself seems treated rather banally, so something feels lacking there, making it difficult to compare to the outstanding visuals. If for no other reason, the visuals (including Falconetti’s evocative performance) of “The Passion of Joan of Arc” maintain its place in film history and become the reason that viewers should continue to see it. Try to forget that you know the story—you have never seen visuals like these.

“The Passion of Joan of Arc” showed on February 18th as part of the “International Lens” series.

Originally published in the February 25 issue of Versus Magazine: Entertainment & Culture

Read more...

In the News/Random Musing: The Academy Awards '09

Wow. The film awards event of the season will never fail to impress me, I am certain. While I missed it last year to see my partner sing in his church's performance of Bach's "St. John Passion" (audience cue: "Aww!"), the 81st Annual Academy Awards ceremony lived up to the sensationalism of its predecessors. My favorite part of the night was the star-studded revelations of the winners in the acting categories. Not only did the winner from the previous year come out to announce the new winner, four other past winners came to help. The abundance of star power was certainly a rush for Oscar junkies like me who excitedly named everyone as he or she appeared on stage and the film for which he or she won the award. I thought I was going to die happily in my chair as Sophia Loren, that beautiful Italian goddess who won the Oscar in 1960 for "Two Women," strode to the left of the stage to help announce Best Actress. I furthermore thought I would die seeing both Eva Marie Saint (still as adorable as ever at age 84) and Joel Grey (who played my all-time favorite character from a musical, Emcee in "Cabaret"). This Oscar night had style, and it had stars.

Meanwhile, while I was unsurprised to watch "Slumdog Millionaire" go home with 8 awards (out of 9 nominations), it was a surprising night in other regards. For example, "The Dark Knight" lost in a few categories, such as cinematography and sound mixing, that I had expected it to take, and I did not expect Penélope Cruz to get her Oscar. However, let us see where the cards fell, shall we?

Best Picture: Slumdog Millionaire
Best Director: Danny Boyle, Slumdog Millionaire
Original Song: "Jai Ho," music by A.R. Rahman, lyrics by Gulzar, Slumdog Millionaire
Original Score: A.R. Rahman, Slumdog Millionaire
Sound Mixing: Ian Tapp, Richard Pryke and Resul Pookutty; Slumdog Millionaire
Film Editing: Chirs Dickens, Slumdog Millionaire
Cinematography: Anthony Dod Mantle, Slumdog Millionaire
Writing, Adapted Screenplay: Simon Beaufoy, Slumdog Millionaire

Do I see a trend? "Slumdog" captured three of the "big five," along with some other notable technical awards. The fact that it won at least five more awards than any other film should say something to you. (However, I still think "Best Picture" should have been "Revolutionary Road"! To see why, click here.)

Best Actor: Sean Penn, Milk
Writing, Original Screenplay: Dustin Lance Black, Milk

This was certainly a touching night for the LGBT community. (For why these wins were so important, see this.) Meanwhile, congratulations to Penn for his second win this decade!

Best Actress: Kate Winslet, The Reader
Best Supporting Actor: Health Ledger, The Dark Knight
Animated Feature Film: Andrew Stanton, Wall-E

All of these were expected from the get-go. I am so proud of Kate Winslet, now deservedly recognized for her talent. Meanwhile, the thank you by the family of the late Ledger was quite touching and appropriate. Congratulations to all.

Best Supporting Actress: Penelope Cruz, Vicky Christina Barcelona

I did not initially expect this victory, but it is logical - they say Woody writes good characters. As if Dianne Wiest ("Hannah & Her Sisters," "Bullets Over Broadway"), Michael Caine ("Hannah & Her Sisters"), Diane Keaton ("Annie Hall"), and Mira Sorvino ("Mighty Aphrodite"), among others, could not indicate this.

Foreign Language Film: Departures, (Japan) directed by: Yojiro Takita

I am just glad it was not "Waltz with Bashir"! (To see why, click here.)

Documentary Feature: James Marsh and Simon Chinn, Man on Wire

"Encounters at the End of the World" was robbed! (To see why, click here.) I mean, it was made by Werner Herzog, for chrissake!

Hearty congratulations to all winners (and to all nominees!) - your achievements have been appropriately recognized. I cannot wait until next year!

Read more...

Wendy & Lucy

*** ½ out of ****

“Wendy and Lucy” is perhaps the most interesting experiment on film of late—it presents the moving story of a young woman’s misfortunes through the camera (whereas most other films tend to rely on dialogue). The film’s visual minimalism can be seen through the meticulous direction of Kelly Reichardt, who uses deliberate shots that narrate everything viewers need to know about a scene without insulting their intelligence. Furthermore, some of the shots are created with the same skill as the “greats”—for example, the opening tracking shot of Wendy walking and playing fetch with Lucy is choreographed so well that I instantly compared its effect to the work of Welles. In this way, “Wendy and Lucy” is a strong film in terms of its visuals and, furthermore, because of the quiet sociological study it makes through the tragic, haunting story it has to tell.

Wendy Carroll (Michelle Williams) lives a nomadic existence on her way from Indiana to Alaska, where she hopes to restart her life with a potentially satisfying, lucrative job. The film centers only on the time she spends in the Oregon portion of the trip, where everything hits the fan. Having been carefully rationing out her limited supply of money in order to make the trip run successfully, Wendy sleeps in her car nightly, freshens herself in a gas station bathroom, and spends as little money as possible to eat. However, after spending the night in the wrong Walgreens parking lot, the security guard compulsively dedicated to his lot wakes her early the next morning and forces her to leave the premises, but her car is dead. Furthermore, the mechanic is out for the day and Lucy, her ever-faithful dog, is hungry. Because she is nearly broke, Wendy carefully shoplifts the food she needs from the grocery store but is caught on her way out and subsequently spends the afternoon in jail. When she is released, she returns to the store to find that Lucy is missing, so she spends the next several days searching for her companion. With the obstacles continuing to stack up against her, Wendy must recover her belongings so that she can go on—so that she can survive.

I do not think I could have imagined this film without Michelle Williams. Having proven herself with her role in “Brokeback Mountain,” she continues to establish her talents in “Wendy and Lucy.” The curious thing is that the film reveals barely anything about her character’s life or past, but this is not important. Through the way Williams quietly, but powerfully becomes Wendy, viewers share in and actually comprehend her miserable existence.

Curiously, although some critics might stress the plot device of her Alaskan goal, I think it is, by all means, a “MacGuffin.” Wendy is going somewhere, but the goal actually does not matter—the whole film is an allegory for escape to somewhere, anywhere. Wendy’s trip is motivated by a need to escape, and as the obstacles mount against her in Oregon, Wendy becomes more and more suffocated by entrapment. After all, she cannot go anywhere without her car or best friend.

Besides this allegory of escape, the film also stresses humanism, quietly opining on loving others that need our help. This, in turn, challenges moral definitions of right and wrong. Is it right or wrong that Andy the grocery store clerk has to be a hero, “making an example” of Wendy because she did the “wrong thing” in order to survive? Is it right or wrong that the security guard impulsively offers what he can to Wendy because he sees a poor soul? The answers are up to the viewers.

Deliberately paced, “Wendy and Lucy” might come off boring to some, but the eighty-minute runtime should keep audiences satisfied. In any case, the visual power and narrative resonance of the film should be enough to keep “Wendy and Lucy” worthwhile.

“Wendy and Lucy” is currently playing at the Belcourt Theatre.

Originally published in the February 18 issue of Versus Magazine: Entertainment & Culture

Read more...

Yentl

** out of ****

The fact that “Yentl” is a labor of love by Barbra Streisand is no question—after all, she directed, co-produced, co-wrote, and starred in it. However, her vehicle amounts to a heap of sentimentality when the story itself occasionally becomes forgotten in the midst of sappy introspective songs.

“Yentl” is the story of a young Jewish girl from Eastern Europe who is educated in secret by her father but must disguise herself as a boy in order to continue her studies when he dies. Now named Anshel, she is accepted into a yeshiva (a Jewish law school, for you non-Hebrew speakers) and befriends fellow student Avigdor (Mandy Patinkin) and his betrothed, Hadass (Amy Irving). However, she begins to see the consequences of her actions as her “passing” leads to multiple instances of almost being “outed” by Avigdor and finally leads to her subsequent betrothal to Hadass. Yentl (or Anshel) must then figure out how to work her way out of the hole in which she continues to dig herself before it becomes too late and the consequences lead to disastrous results.

Since she displays her Jewish heritage prominently and proudly in every film in which she stars (verify for yourself), it was only a matter of time before Streisand would star in a role such as Yentl. However, although she can play a frumpy woman (“The Mirror Has Two Faces”), she does not play a convincing man. In fact, the suspension of disbelief regarding her gender role-reversal is never in place for me because I could not fathom how Avigdor did not have the sense to realize that “Anshel” is just not “one of the guys.” On the other hand, Barbra’s work behind the camera is certainly admirable, especially for her debut. She understands the way films work visually and uses this to her advantage, creating interesting shots with effective uses of blocking, lighting, etc. However, the film’s most interesting and memorable shot is amusingly “borrowed.” It is the final shot that circles over Yentl as she happily sails to America, which recalls the aerial shot of Streisand on the ferry boat by the Empire State Building, belting out the final note of “Don’t Rain on My Parade” in “Funny Girl.” However, for "Yentl," this shot seems out-of-place and too sensational.

Meanwhile, in general, the film’s acting performances are satisfactory. Not great and not bad—just satisfactory. Streisand, although, again, wholly unconvincing as a man, brings Yentl/Anshel to life through her genuine connection to the character and her struggle. The other two leading actors’ performances are those about which I feel the most ambivalent, which would be a logical conclusion given the Oscar and Razzie nominations for Irving for her role.

I think this film would have worked best as a drama and not as a musical. It seems that the serious subject matter of "Yentl" is treated too lightly with the music. Because Barbra breaks out in song almost on cue, the story gets old quickly and loses its thrust. When it gets old, it just becomes painful. Because the film runs over two hours, viewers wait tediously as Yentl goes from conflict to conflict until she finally reveals her true identity to Avigdor, perhaps the most exciting part of the story when it finally happens. However, this is certainly a film best recommended for Barbra’s fans because it will take infatuation with her to get through even the most agonizingly boring parts. But be warned: it takes a fan to be able to swallow an unabashed Barbra vehicle.

Yentl was released on DVD for the first time in Region 1 on February 3rd. To secure your own copy of the film, click here.

Read more...

Waltz with Bashir (ואלס עם באשיר)

** ½ out of ****

Animation has long been a realm claimed for children, but “Waltz with Bashir” proves that animation is not just for kids. With a stylized look similar to “A Scanner Darkly,” the Israeli film uses animation for phantasmagorical purposes—to help viewers experience the wild power of memories of the 1982 Lebanon War as they can be remembered (or misremembered). The film’s colors tend toward minimalist hues, but the nauseating yellow color of war is unmistakable. “Waltz with Bashir” may well be the first time an animated film rivals the powerful anti-war sentiments of the greats, such as “Paths of Glory” or “Platoon.” However, while long-lasting images such as the firing squad or Sgt. Grodin being mowed down by friendly fire, respectively, undeniably evoke an emotional response, the images of “Waltz with Bashir” leave me rather empty. Because it is animation and not “real” like the other examples, it simply might lack the emotional resonance capable with narrative film.

However, “Waltz with Bashir” is a complexly psychological film that centers on memories. The film begins with a pack of voracious dogs tearing down a sidewalk amidst terrified civilians. They stop at the edge of a building, eyes wild and teeth bared, while a man stands in a window far away at the top. Suddenly, he is telling the story of this horrifying nightmare to his long-time friend, the film’s director, Ali Folman, because he thinks it stems from subconscious guilt at shooting Palestinian guard dogs in the Lebanon War. After this late-night meeting, Ali has a dream of himself and two others rising naked out of the water off of the coast of Beirut, poetically donning their clothes in the light of flares, and entering the city during the horrible Sabra and Shatila massacre. When he realizes that he has lost nearly all of his own memories of the war from some twenty-five years prior, Ali consults his filmmaking partner and friend, Ori, the film’s source of psychological reason. Ori explains that sometimes people create false memories, so Ali becomes determined to find everyone with whom he remembers fighting in the war in order to put together the missing pieces of his experience and to ultimately determine the meaning of his memory.

Would this film have worked with real footage? It tries to use some at the end for emotional effect, but the animation already tones down the bite of war’s reality, so viewers might already be too numbed to really feel its impact. However, the resounding message of war’s victimization of the soldiers is certainly the most persistent and powerful message. This victimization thus becomes the essential theme of Folman’s film, and the recollection of his memories explores and deals with the mental trauma he sustained because of the Lebanon War. If I empathized with the film at all, it was in this regard because I was incapable of connecting to the rest of his experiences thanks to the “numbing” animation. Perhaps this “numbing” was intended to make the story easier to tell for Folman, but it becomes harder for viewers like me to truly understand and empathize. This, therefore, might be a film for viewers who understand and can sympathize with the horrors of war.

“Waltz with Bashir” is currently playing at the Belcourt Theatre.

NOTE: Re-edited on February 9, 2009. Original version published in the February 4 issue of Versus Magazine: Entertainment & Culture

Read more...