Author: nlclement

The experience of watching Midnight Special was akin to eating 50 Oreos with a humongous glass of ice cold milk. In short, I loved every single second of this fantastic film, but I’m not too surprised, considering how Jeff Nichols has only made quality films, with his sophomore effort, Take Shelter, registering as a masterpiece of introspective, existential cinema. He’s back in semi-ambiguous mode here after the solid southern drama Mud, and to be honest, I want Nichols to stick to this arena, the thought provoking genre bender that you can’t quite pin down. It’s a miracle that a major studio funded this film – bravo, Warner Brothers. There’s no chance of a sequel or lunchboxes or action figures with this one, and it seems to have been crafted with BRAINS as the motivating factor, not endless action scenes or noisy visual effects. Instead, the audience is treated to tantalizing ideas, smart dialogue and riveting plotting, excellent performances, realistic family dynamics that propel the narrative, and CGI that’s used to enhance the story, and not act as the central focus. I loved the Amblin-ness of Midnight Special, and how it reminded me of John Carpenter’s Star Man and other nostalgic offerings from the 80’s, yet still made with modern panache and overall exquisite style, rarely ever calling overt attention to itself. Adam Stone’s shimmery and bold widescreen cinematography meshed perfectly with Chad Keith’s inspired and subtly stylish production design, which went a long way in evoking these feelings. And the last 20 minutes of the film are spellbinding in their ability to transport you out of the theater and into a movie world where you just have to know what’s going to happen next.

If you’ve see the trailer, that’s all you need to know from a plot stand point. There’s a strange and unique child being moved across state lines by two men with a variety of groups giving chase, and for some reason, the kid is able to emit light rays from his eyes. I’m giving nothing away that’s not shown in the trailer. And I’ll reveal no more. This movie has a ton of heart and honest emotion that worked me over like a baby, and a central performance from Michael Shannon that is compelling and totally consuming to observe. Jaeden Lieberher is equal parts spooky and sympathetic as the potentially dangerous cargo, while Joel Edgerton and Kirsten Dunst are both very effective in supporting roles. Adam Driver nails his scenes as an NSA agent looking into the situation, while Sam Shepard has a cameo as a cult leader who feels that, for some reason, the boy is very special. David Wingo’s music is haunting and pulsating and delivers a serious punch, and again, it must be mentioned that the entire film has been shot with casual elegance by Stone, who clearly was favoring a lot of natural light, and knew exactly where to place the camera in some key situations. But the star of the show is Nichols, and his erudite sense of storytelling, never holding the audience’s hand too firmly, and always allowing for tantalizing bits and pieces from his heady narrative to remain unanswered, so that when you leave the theater, you’ll be thinking about the fine details for hours after the film has finished. I can’t wait to see this film again and again and again and I have no doubt that it will be included in my top 10 favorite films of the year.

The Fighter is an inherently compelling piece of entertainment. Christian Bale, as a crack-addicted boxing coach, stole the entire show, but Mark Wahlberg, starring as real life boxer Micky Ward, was low-key terrific and was somewhat overshadowed by the hype that accompanied Bale’s transformative performance. Wahlberg clearly excels while working with director David O. Russell (they previously teamed on the masterwork Three Kings and the criminally underrated I Heart Huckabees) and it’s clear from frame one that this was Wahlberg’s passion project. It’s probably the least idiosyncratic movie that Russell has ever directed, but switching it up a bit thematically and stylistically was probably a good move for him at the time, as he definitely showed that he’s got solid commercial instincts and that he can stay focused with a concise story. The film also has some huge and unexpected doses of humor (mostly at the expense of the broadly drawn characterizations that comprise Ward’s white-trashy sisters) that really bring the laughs.

You might not like the brutality of boxing, you might not want to have your face rubbed in the low-class Lowell-grit-‘n-slime for two hours, and sure, most of the beats in the script are predictable, but it’s got such a rousing finish and the story is so quintessentially American (who doesn’t love a second, sometimes third chance in life?), that it’s hard not to find the film inspiring to a certain degree. The acting across the board was so strong and enjoyable that in tandem with the sharp and believable dialogue, the obviousness of some of the story recedes into the back of my mind. The Fighter has a somewhat traditional boxing movie narrative, but everything is spiced up by the gritty, lived-in atmosphere and by the rough and tumble dynamics of the Ward family. Amy Adams and Melissa Leo were both terrific, and again, it needs to be said, without Wahlberg’s sensitive and quietly observed performance, the film would be without its steady anchor. It’s his best overall performance since Boogie Nights and it’s something that he should be very proud of.

Writer/director Peter Berg pulled out all the stops and went for the emotional and visceral jugular with his ferocious combat film Lone Survivor, a harrowing, gut-wrenching modern war movie that deserves to sit alongside other battle-ready, anti-war classics such as Hamburger Hill, Black Hawk Down and We Were Soldiers, truly throwing the audience into the middle of a nightmarish warzone where anything can happen. Crafted with stunning technical proficiency, Lone Survivor aims to put you in the middle of a bloody, unrelenting gun battle, rarely letting up for a breath of air. And what a battle sequence it is. The fluid yet ragged cinematography from Tobias Schliessler is remarkable to behold and the crispness of the editing by Colby Parker Jr. smartly establishes concise geography and clear spatial coherence during the protracted firefight. Berg was as single-minded and determined in his directorial approach to the story as the soldiers-on-a-mission were in his narrative, centering on their attempt at doing their job and coming out of a terrible situation alive. And it’s because Berg stuck to the nitty gritty, never losing focus or succumbing to cheap politicizing, the film operates in a bluntly forceful fashion, and almost immediately kicks into high gear.

No matter what or how many creative liberties the filmmakers took with the true-story aspects of the incident (a botched mission where four Navy SEALS went up against numerous Taliban soldiers in the unforgiving mountains of Afghanistan after allowing civilians to go free), the emotional core of the film is honest and at times overwhelmingly powerful, just like great cinema should always be. It’s no spoiler to reveal that only one SEAL makes it out of the fight alive, and it’s mind-blowing to think that these guys were able to endure what they probably endured during those hellish hours. Berg smartly opens the film with real-world SEAL training footage, and by watching just two minutes of these clips, it’s easy to see how these men could become total warriors, able to drop their enemies with precise head-shots, never succumbing to fatigue or lack of food, always ready to fight and kill. Berg wisely celebrates the warrior spirit in all of the men, while never glamourizing the horrific toll that war brings to multiple societies. And most importantly, he never turned the film into a cheesy political message or soap-box statement – this is truly “War is Hell Cinema,” with a focus on the blood and guts of the situation. Persuasively acted by the grizzled quartet of Mark Wahlberg, Taylor Kitsch, Ben Foster, and Emile Hirsch, this is an unforgettable reminder of what’s been going on for over a decade during the “War on Terror.”

Bob Fosse’s forceful and uniquely constructed biopic Lenny remains as topical and exhilarating today as it likely did upon first release back in 1974. Nominated for six Academy Awards including Best Picture, Best Director, Best Actor, Best Actress, Best Adapted Screenplay and Best Cinematography, the film was a critical and commercial success, even if the potentially distancing aesthetic put off some viewers and film aficionados upon first glance. The film expertly cuts back and forth between key and intimate moments of Bruce’s life, showing him in his full comic glory, but also detailing the darker times, when he was extremely wasted and strung-out. The script also delves into the latter portions of his life where he used his own nightclub as a venting arena for all of his personal problems and hardships, often times reading his arrest reports and court transcripts. Dustin Hoffman was consistently electrifying as Lenny Bruce, burrowing deep into his feverish psyche, always a loose cannon and ready to explode with intelligent vulgarity and a sense of purpose that defined him as a stand-up comic and general rapscallion. It’s a performance of startling conviction, and a further reminder of the live-wire quality that Hoffman exuded in the 70’s.

Similar to the themes in a film like The People vs. Larry Flynt, this is yet another movie to examine the importance of free speech, and to celebrate the idea of the nonconformist. Bruce’s material had a subversive quality that the best types of entertainment can bring out, always questioning himself and those around him, and challenging societal norms and expectations. Valerie Perrine won the award for Best Actress at the 1975 Cannes Film Festival, and it’s easy to see why, as it’s a show-stopping performance of overt sexuality and unquestionable emotional tenderness, and when juxtaposed with Bruce’s hard-charging theatrics, it was easy to see why they were such a great match for each other. The smoky and gorgeous black and white cinematography by Bruce Surtees is a constant treat, and the numerous sequences detailing the various performances and arrests that befell Bruce during his rise to fame are handled with a devil-in-the-eye sense of humor. And of course, this being a tragic story, Fosse doesn’t shy away from the ugly price of fame, showing how Bruce was a true pioneer, and how that fact more than likely cost him his life. Playwright Julian Barry adapted his own work for the screen. Available on Blu-ray via Twilight Time.

Inside (À l’intérieur), a stunningly violent French thriller from filmmakers Julien Maury and Alexandre Bustillo, sets the standard (at least from what I’ve scene) for on-screen death and punishment. Listen — I’m no horror junkie — it’s the one genre I’ve seen the least from, but every once in a while I hear about a foreign language effort that supposedly pushes the envelope and Holy Shit does this movie do that. This is a mercifully short (75 minutes) but unrelentingly brutal horror-thriller that utilizes fantastic digital cinematography and brilliant sound effects to create one of the craziest, nastiest, bloodiest cinematic home-invasions ever put on film.

The set-up is simple. A pregnant woman named Sarah (Alysson Paradis), who has just recovered from a devastating and life altering car-wreck where you see portions of the accident from the POV of a fetus in the womb, is home alone on Christmas eve on the probable last night of her pregnancy. A strange woman knocks on her door and asks if she can use the phone as she’s been in an accident. The woman, never named in the film but played with icy, intense devotion by Beatrice Dalle in an astonishing performance, seems to know a little about Sarah, and before long, she has broken her way into Sarah’s house. The general air of mystery helps to propel the slim narrative, with twists being doled out in the final moments that cement the generally believable depravity of the film’s strikingly nihilistic scenario.

What ensues is a vicious fight to the death between Sarah and the mysterious psychopath, with cops and other innocents making their way into the house at various points in the film, but never making it out. The directorial craft and technique of Maury and Bustillo cannot be ignored; they are phenomenally talented at mounting cinematic dread and maintaining a hugely creepy atmosphere, and their level of stylized filmic sadism is something to behold. IF – and ONLY if — you have a strong stomach for blood and gore. Really strong. There’s no question that this is one of the bloodiest movies I’ve ever seen, and while I normally steer clear of genre fare such as this, I couldn’t resist viewing it a while back as people had told me it would raise the hair along my neck. It did. And then some. The performances from Paradis and Dalle, are, in a word, exhausting, both emotionally and physically. Throwing themselves around the house and with the inherently vulnerable Paradis in emotional turmoil for almost an hour straight, the dedication to their parts deserves commendation.

But while the film is technically fantastic and the gore handled in a very up-front and realistic fashion, what purpose does the film serve overall? Many mentions are made throughout the film to the 2007 riots in France, but any ideas of social critique are absent in the story. Instead, what we’re subjected to is a film with brass balls, a movie that punishes its characters and the audience for the sheer thrill of it. And trust me, unless you’re a student of New French Extremity, you’ve probably never seen ANYTHING like this. Most amazing are the subjective “from-the-womb” shots that Maury and Bustillo cut too while the pregnant Sarah fights for her life — terrifying and unforgettable. I doubt I’ll ever watch it again but I’m glad (in some sort of sick and deranged way) I got a chance to see what many people feel is one of the best horror movies in recent years.

The gifted and cerebral director Anton Corbijn (The American, Control) de-glamourized and upended the conventions of the post 9/11 spy film with A Most Wanted Man, a cold, cynical effort, where, much like in The American, he subverted the audience’s expectations at almost every turn, favoring the plausible over the unbelievable, the rational over the illogical, with results that are highly intelligent and wholly engrossing. Based on the John le Carré novel and shot with muted, un-showy elegance by the great cinematographer Benoit Delhomme, this is a film that lives in the same world as The Constant Gardener and Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy, favoring moral ambiguity and shadowy inner workings over flashy action scenes featuring car chases and shoot-outs. Andrew Bovell’s crisp, talky, and extremely sharp screenplay gave the late, great Philip Seymour Hoffman the chance to slow-burn his way through one of the best performances of his estimable career. Slugging scotch or coffee and sucking down cigarettes in almost every scene, this weathered, broken, beaten-down character was a perfect match for Hoffman’s inherent sad-sack instincts – his final moments on screen blister with intensity. The great supporting cast includes Rachel McAdams, Robin Wright, Willem Dafoe, Daniel Bruhl, Nina Hoss, and Grigoriy Dobrygin. With an ending that truly stings and zero hand holding at any point, this is a film I’ve found myself watching whenever I come across it on the movie channels.