The Kids Are All Right

Annette Bening, Julianne Moore, Mark Ruffalo, Mia Wasikowska, Josh Hutcherson

Dir. Lisa Cholodenko
Scr. Lisa Cholodenko & Stuart Blumberg

(shrugs) Meh.*




*In other words: I really can’t be bothered to write a review of this forgettable, smug, tv-movie-of-the-week film. It evoked little emotion, good or bad, simply ambivalence. So, yeah, sorry about that.

Black Swan

Natalie Portman, Mila Kunis, Vincent Cassel, Barbara Hershey, Winona Ryder

Dir. Darren Aronofsky
Scr. Mark Heyman, Andres Heinz & John McLaughlin

I didn’t want to see this film – it just didn’t look terribly good. Then so many good reviews and so many awards and so many nominations (including Oscar for Best Picture), and it was like the universe was telling me to see it. And now, well, I wish I’d gone with my first instinct and thumbed my nose at the universe! I am flying in the face of an 88% rating on Rotten Tomatoes, I know, but this is an overlong, clichéd, uncomfortable, melodramatic (not in a good way) film with a lead character I absolutely didn’t care about. Disappointing and, more than that, just plain frustrating.

Black Swan tells the story of Nina (Portman), a talented young ballerina, desperate to shine and land the part of the Swan Queen in a modern interpretation of Swan Lake. Nina lives and breathes ballet, punishing her body and her life in the hope of being the perfect ballerina. But although Nina is talented, she is all “white swan” – fragile, pure – and not at all “black swan” – sensual, manipulative, dark. Despite this, she lands the part and it’s all downhill from there. A suffocating mother (Hershey), a punishing ballet director (Cassel), a young challenger (Kunis), an older vision of what she might become (Ryder), her own expectations of perfection – all these factors combine to send Nina down the rabbit hole and, as you might expect, tragedy ensues.

Okay, before I launch into what made me really dislike this film, let me praise it a little. Like Aronofsky’s previous film, The Wrestler, the viewer is immersed into a very specialised world, in this case, the crazy world of ballet. Stripped back from the glamour, most of the action takes place in the cold, bare practise rooms (not dissimilar from the gym setting of The Wrestler). It’s effective film making. Also effective is the way the ballet scenes are filmed. Instead of having an audience’s view, we are taken up close and hear every pant and intake of breath, every creak and crack of joints – it’s simultaneously compelling and uncomfortable, something Aronofsky has quite the talent for. In terms of acting, I would single out Kunis (as the young upstart Lily), who really does shine. I also have to acknowledge the amount of work Portman obviously put into this role – you could mistake her for a career ballerina who has decided to act, rather than the other way around.

That’s about it. My real criticism of this film is three-fold. First up, it was very difficult to watch. And I’m not an inexperienced film-goer, no sir. By way of comparison, I thought Precious was an amazing, compelling, startling film. Would I want to see it again? No way. Probably the most uncomfortable I’ve been in a theatre. In Black Swan, there seems to be no real reward for such discomfort and the shock value of some scenes were just that – shock. Secondly, what a cliché! Backstabbing ballerinas who would sleep with anyone to get the part. Overbearing mother who lives vicariously through her daughter. Self harm, lesbianism, drugs, madness. It all just seemed so tired. Which is pretty fatal for a film about a subject matter that there aren’t many films about. Tired before its own time. And talk about flogging a concept or motif. Yes, I understand the white/black swan dichotomy – just shut up about it already! Yes yes, I understand the importance of the mirror to the whole gist of the film – does there have to be one in every single blooming scene? It caused me to scoff a little too often. Lastly, and I think most importantly but also where I’m going to have to disagree with most critics, is a lead character/performance that I just didn’t care about at all. She was descending into madness and I had to stifle a yawn. What really makes a film tick is when the audience relates to, cares about or at least has hope for the lead character. And this can be tenuous, for sure. In There Will Be Blood, the lead is hugely unlikeable and unrelatable. But what makes that film truly great is that the audience clings to the hope that he can redeem himself. He doesn’t, but this is largely irrelevant – we are already hooked. In Black Swan, I just felt nothing. At the beginning, she was mostly annoying. And by the end, ridiculously melodramatic. And it’s not just the lead I didn’t like. Hershey and Ryder in particular were extremely one-dimensional and, at times, ridiculous. Cassel had a bit more to work with, but in the end became a repetitive and boring plot device.

I guess I’m a little surprised at the praise heaped upon this film. Which perhaps makes me like it even less than it deserves. But I stand by my evaluation – although Black Swan might present itself rather well, there is no heart and soul in this clichéd film. It tries too hard and falls at most every hurdle.

------------------------------

Thomas: That was me seducing you. It needs to be the other way around.

The Fighter

Mark Wahlberg, Christian Bale, Amy Adams, Melissa Leo, Jack McGee

Dir. David O Russell
Scr. Scott Silver, Paul Tamasy & Eric Johnson

This film tells the story of a fighter you’ve probably never heard of – I certainly hadn’t. But don’t let that deter you. This is a great movie about family, redemption, self-belief and, yes, a bit of boxing. With one of the finest performances you’ll see on the silver screen all year.

The Fighter is about the early years of “Irish” Micky Ward, who was to become the welterweight champion of the world and, by all accounts, a hell of a tenacious fighter. Micky lives in the shadow of his older, half-brother Dicky Eklund who had once knocked out Sugar Ray Leonard and is now a crack addict. Destructive and unreliable, Dicky is Micky’s mentor and sparring partner. Managed by his mother, also destructive in her own way, Micky’s career goes nowhere, loss after loss giving his self-confidence a battering. After hooking up with waitress Charlene and seeing his brother back in jail, Micky gives the big time one more try ...

At its guts, this film is about family. And Micky’s is quite a bunch. While he prospers without them and tries to shake off the shadow of his brother, in the end family is family. What is refreshing is that everyone in The Fighter makes a sort of personal journey, coming out a better person at the other end. It’s a heart-warming tale, amongst the boxing and drugs and bad 80s hair.

The Fighter certainty has an air of authenticity about it and when you discover the lengths the filmmakers went to to do justice to Ward’s story, it’s easy to understand why. Filmed on location in Lowell, Massachusetts – Ward’s hometown – many of the training scenes were filmed at the real-life facility Ward used in the 1980s. Fights were choreographed with care, using footage of Ward’s bouts. Director Russell used the cameras of the age to film the fights, giving them a very realistic and not overly stylised look. It makes for very good cinema indeed.

This film is packed with great acting performances. But while The Fighter is about Micky, it is the portrayal of Dicky by the ever-excellent Christian Bale that really stands out. Although both Matt Damon and Brad Pitt were, at one time, signed on to play Dicky, I simply cannot imagine anyone but Bale in the role. Showing his commitment to his art, Bale sheds the pounds (although not as many as for The Machinist) to capture Dicky’s harrowed, crack-addicted, scrawny physique. It is clear from the brief look we get at the real-life Dicky during the film’s end credits, that Bale has studied his subject. Bale is deserving of every award for a truly masterly performance. Wahlberg, in a much more subtle role, is also excellent. I’m not a big fan, finding him more often wooden than not. But it is clear that he has much invested in this role, creatively and emotionally. Amy Adams, as Micky’s feisty girlfriend Charlene, and Melissa Leo, as Micky and Dicky’s mother, are both superb – immensely likeable and unlikeable respectively.

This is an absorbing, tumultuous, gut-wrenching movie. Sure, it’s a boxing movie and with that comes the usual clichés and predictable ending flourish. But, much like the other major awards contender The King’s Speech, there will be few dry eyes by the time the credits roll and you will be pleased you were there.

------------------------

Micky Ward: I'm the one who's fighting. Not you, not you, and not you.

The King's Speech

Colin Firth, Geoffrey Rush, Helena Bonham Carter, Guy Pearce, Derek Jacobi, Michael Gambon

Dir. Tom Hooper
Scr. David Seidler

The King’s Speech, with its clever play-on-words title, is both an epic and intimate film, possessed of performances that deservedly have Oscar tongues wagging. Historically, it might take a few liberties, but only the most purist film-goer would truly let that ruin what is undoubtedly one of the films of the awards season and the year.

Set over the few years before and the few years after the abdication of King Edward VIII aka David (Guy Pearce), The King’s Speech portrays Bertie’s (aka Prince Albert aka King George VI aka Colin Firth!) struggle with a stammer that has haunted him from an early age. Enter his last hope, unconventional and Australian speech therapist Lionel Logue (Geoffrey Rush), and a success story is born. Well, it’s not that simple, but that’s the gist. And not only a success story, but an odd and endearing friendship is born between a pupil who is King and a master who is a commoner.

What is drummed home and is important to grasp, is the power of speech at this time in history. The spread of radio into people’s homes was a phenomenon and, as Bertie’s father the King aptly puts it, turned the royal family into actors. Bertie’s ultimate challenge was to not only overcome his stammer, but to find his voice to inspire and reassure his people in a time of unrest and uncertainty.

This entire film really does hinge on the performance of Firth as Bertie and he delivers in a way that we have perhaps never seen before. Praise was heaped upon him for A Single Man last year, but his performance here really does show us what he’s made of – we never forget this man Bertie is royalty, there is no sappy lapse out of true character. Of course we see glimpses of Bertie as a father, a husband, a son, a brother, a friend. But this is about a prince’s and a king’s struggle and Firth nails it. I am a fan, have been since Mr Darcy days of course, but I didn’t quite think he had it in him. I was wrong.

While this is Firth’s show, he has some superb help. Rush is sublime, as always. Not just cocky therapist who thinks he knows it all, but a kind and true friend. Bonham Carter is wonderful as Queen Elizabeth (aka the Queen Mum!) and much of the film’s humour and grace comes from her performance. Pearce also nails the portrayal of Edward VIII which, in this film and most people’s minds I suppose, is a completely unsympathetic interpretation. Some criticism has been levelled at the bit players and their caricature in the film, notably Churchill (played with relish by Timothy Spall). But, really, come on people! I think it would have been stupid for him not to appear, but do we really need character development for such a well known figure? I don’t think so.

At the end, there will be few dry eyes in the cinema. And perhaps we, as an audience, feel manipulated. But I didn’t mind. The King’s Speech is beautiful to watch and a fine addition to both the genre of royal period pieces and buddy movies.

-------------------------------

King George VI: If I am King, where is my power? Can I declare war? Form a government? Levy a tax? No! And yet I am the seat of all authority because they think that when I speak, I speak for them.

Moment of 2010

Someone, not satisfied I had sweated and toiled and produced my ten best of 2010, asked me what the best moment of 2010 was. Sheesh, what a question! Brilliant. Not scene, not character, not plot twist – moment. A challenge indeed.

Actually, after a quick scan of my 2010 cinematic memory, not such a challenge after all. To evoke a tear, a smile, a chuckle, a shudder, all worthy movie moments. But to make me audibly gasp and physically convulse, then laugh out very loud – that’s a rare and mighty fine moment. And I did that on one occasion that stands out like a flashing neon sign in my mind.

Moment of the year: From the Todd Phillips' movie Due Date, when Peter (played by Robert Downey Jr) spits in the face of Sonny, Ethan’s (Zach Galifianakis) dog.

Shocking, I know. I am an absolute dog lover. But, for that very reason, this moment worked so very well. There is no greater insult to a dog owner than this. Nothing that Peter could say to make Ethan feel as bad and outraged as he does after this terrible act of frustrated aggression.

I feel slightly ashamed. I feel that the moment of 2010 should come from a more noteworthy movie – Due Date wasn’t even in the top ten. In fact, Due Date was a very mixed bag and failed to truly capitalise on the wonderfully mismatched pairing of Downey Jr and Galifianakis. It is not a movie I would recommend to very many – furthermore, I would actively and aggressively advise some not to see it. But, there it is.

Genius.

---------------------------

Peter: Sonny, you will be sorely missed, you little bat-faced piece of s**t!

Morning Glory

Rachel McAdams, Harrison Ford, Diane Keaton, Patrick Wilson, Jeff Goldblum

Dir. Roger Michell
Scr. Aline Brosh McKenna

Nothing too challenging, a nice light and fluffy piece of cinema to get me back on the reviewing horse. That’s just what I needed and just what I got with my first outing to the cinema in 2011 – Morning Glory is chock full of big name stars and beautiful people, a couple of big laughs and an array of smaller ones, and a feel good buzz when you leave the darkness of the theatre. But that’s really about it.

Morning Glory is a peek into the zany world of morning television. Or maybe it’s a romantic comedy. Or maybe it’s a vehicle for the eternally up-and- coming Rachel McAdams. I’m not sure, and I think this confusion makes for a bitsy movie. McAdams plays Becky Fuller, a television producer whose dream is to work for a big network morning show. She gets her chance on Daybreak – it’s network but it’s an awful, sinking ship of a show, fourth in the ratings and sliding. In an attempt to shake things up, she hires hard-nosed, hard-hitting, multi-award-winning journo Mike Pomeroy (Ford) to co host – think Walter Cronkite (US) or Jeremy Paxman (UK) or …. ummmm …. I don’t think NZ has ever had an example! Let’s just say morning television and Pomeroy don’t mix – he’s a news man, end of story. Added to this sure-fire hilarity (at least that’s what the premise promises) is a romantic entanglement between the work-obsessed Fuller and the dishy Adam Bennett (Wilson). Surely doomed to failure … or is it?

This is a hefty cast, it has to be said. And while they throw their collective clout around with ease, it never quite seems enough. Much hilarity is promised by the mismatched pairing of Daybreak co-hosts Peck (Keaton) and Pomeroy, but we get only a few scant interchanges (some of the best moments in the film). Goldblum (as network bigwig Jerry Barnes) is criminally underused. Ty Burrell (of Modern Family fame) is brilliant but fleeting. Even Wilson, as the romantic lead, graces the screen with his good looks far too infrequently. This leaves us with McAdams and this is clearly her time to shine. Her character, alas, is just too perky, too talkative, too utterly annoying to truly love. I did root for her in the end, to be sure, but it was against my better judgment. McAdams is very hit and miss for me (Sherlock Holmes – bull’s-eye; Time Traveller’s Wife – mammoth miss). I would put her performance in this film in the “miss” category, just.

While the sum of the parts doesn’t add up to a brilliantly funny and zany film, there are moments. And those moments were enough for a lazy Sunday afternoon. Just don’t expect too much.

-------------------------------

Colleen Peck: You happen to be a pretentious, fatuous idiot.

Mike Pomeroy: A fatuous idiot who makes three times what you make.