Category: Film Review

Next up on Did You Have Any Idea This Was Made And Released? is the confident and excellent 50’s-set drama Indignation, from producer/writer/scholar James Schamus, who made his directorial debut with this adaptation of Philip Roth’s novel of the same name. Schamus has, for the last 20 years, been Ang Lee’s main creative collaborator, and also found time to run Focus Features; it’s no surprise that he’d choose an intelligent and classy piece of material such as this for his first foray into full-fledged feature filmmaking. Logan Lerman, again excellent after strong work in Perks of Being a Wallflower and Fury, makes a commanding impression as a young Jewish college student, the son of a Kosher butcher, who leaves New Jersey for Ohio, and immediately has problems settling into campus life. The early scenes project a wonderful sense of time and place, which then fluidly leads into the rest of the story.

His bumbling roommates aren’t a good fit, he’s got an overbearing Dean of students (played by the tremendous and invaluable Tracy Letts), his parents are a mess, the Korean War is escalating, and he catches the eye of a sexually forward and potentially troubled female student played by Sarah Gadon (very pretty but a little dramatically flat) who changes his life forever after a very saucy (especially for the time) first date. The societal humor that’s on display during the various sexual entanglements is often very, very funny. But just you wait until the film’s dramatic centerpiece arrives in the form of a one on one confrontation between Lerman and Letts; this staggering bit of acting between the two thespians runs for close to 15 minutes and becomes nearly overwhelming by its conclusion. With rat-a-tat dialogue and the two performers heatedly reciting their lines, it’s hilarious, smart, stinging, and hugely entertaining to observe.

So why didn’t Indignation, which was “released” by Roadside Attractions and Summit Entertainment in the head-scratching summer movie season last year after being acquired at Sundance, have any sort of visibility in the marketplace? Beyond the fact that it’s a film that would likely appeal to a narrow audience (especially these days), I can’t figure out why the distributors didn’t even TRY to do something with this strong piece of cinema; it wasn’t even worth a fall release date as opposed to be being buried in late July? Because it should have grossed way more than the $3 million domestic that it did, and it’s much better than its 82% Rottentomatoes score (if the film opened with the Marvel logo it’d be in the 90’s). This should have been aggressively marketed to upscale audiences, with a simultaneous push onto VOD platforms at the time of its theatrical release.

All of the craft contributions were splendid, with period-fantastic art direction and production design by Derek Wang and Inbal Weinberg respectively; painterly cinematography that stressed dark hues from Kelly Reichardt’s favored director of photography Christopher Blauvelt; patient editing by Andrew Marcus which allowed various scenes to unfold at a smart pace for maximum dramatic impact; and a superb musical score by Jay Wadley that tied everything together.  But because the film didn’t have massive stars and nobody showed up in superhero spandex, nobody saw it, or has even heard of it. Schamus demonstrated a natural hand as a storyteller with this project, and I hope it’s financial failure doesn’t dissuade him from working again in the helmer’s chair. The title of this film is very fitting for the themes explored within the emotionally tricky narrative, and for how I feel about the direction that cinema in general is currently headed.

Heat

1995.  Directed by Michael Mann.

Recently re-released with a stunning 4K transfer, Michael Mann’s acclaimed L.A. crime saga Heat is arguably not only one of the greatest films in his formidable filmography, but also the pinnacle of full throttle storytelling.  Featuring a duo of searing performances by screen icons Al Pacino and Robert DeNiro, Mann’s trademark urban visuals, and one of the greatest action sequences ever filmed, Mann’s epic treatment of professional thieves and the dedicated lawmen who hunt them transports a Samurai mindset into the modern world in a hail of bullets.

Neil leads a crew who takes down high profile scores.  After a job goes wrong, Neil is put into the crosshairs of Vincent Hanna, an obsessive detective whose life is dedicated to the pursuit, that culminates in a daring day time heist and a subsequent shootout in which no one is safe.  Expanding upon his script from a failed TV pilot, Mann builds a straightforward world of good and evil before pulling the lines uncomfortably close.  Packed with memorable dialogue and unforgettable confrontations, Heat dances around the inevitable showdown of its two leads before annihilating any sense of predictability in the climax.  The diner scene between Pacino and DeNiro is remarkable, forgoing the ease of tension by focusing on the basic similarities between two souls who are mirrored, yet set apart only by circumstance.

This is the brilliance of the film.  Mann weaves an outstanding ensemble across multiple storylines, some of which are purposefully left hanging to give the viewer a grounded sense of the playing field, complete with sidewalk demons and lost souls looking for meaning from friends, family, and personal ethics.  Discipline and the adherence to code, both tangible legalities and metaphysical ideals, are the marrow of Mann’s exposition.  Val Kilmer, Tom Sizemore, Danny Trejo, William Fichtner, Henry Rollins, Ashley Judd, Mykelti Williamson, Dennis Haysbert, Tom Noonan, Jon Voight, Diane Verona, Amy Brenneman, Hank Azaria, Jeremy Pivens, and Xander Berkely fill out the supporting cast, but it is Natalie Portman who shines with a handful of scenes.  Her performance is the ultimately casualty, the real world consequences for the actions of those who live beyond the law and those who are consumed by it.  Relationships are a key component, given an ample amount of time to establish that both sides of the coin are people, despite their choices, adding an undercurrent of humanity that strengthens the narrative by presenting the characters as flawed, but genuine souls with dreams waiting to be shattered under the LA sun.

Eliot Goldenthal’s score, combined with a fantastic soundtrack musically narrate the drama, using Mann’s patented masculine deconstructionism to create an entity unto itself.  Moby’s God Moving Over the Face of the Waters in the finale is both beautifully tragic and perfectly applied, an auditory summation of the ultimate neo-tragedy that Mann has created.  Deborah Lynn Scott’s costume design has a vintage, minimalist quality, presenting both cop and robber as natural affixtures to the world on display.  Heat is a free range compound where killers and flawed saints play cat and mouse games while reality perseveres, unaware of the dangerous stakes being sought out and the way that each character is perfectly accessorized is a welcomed conspirator.

Dante Spinotti’s cinematography has a wonderfully layered quality, capturing the moments between the action with Mann’s trademark blue hues and fevered close ups.  Los Angeles is portrayed as a metropolitan Gemini, a twinned persona of complicated domesticity and unrelenting violence.  This idea is constantly explored, but the payoff is in the legendary shoot out that begins the final act.  There has never been a more technically proficient display of gunplay ever committed to film.  The sound design and mixing are a blessed mixture of panic and fury.  The actors, particularly Kilmer’s unrestrained focus, show military tactics that are perfectly executed in a manner that affects the viewer on a base level.  These are dedicated experts of their trades, challenging one another over a lifetime of personal devastation in the name of said commitments and the result is simply unforgettable.

Ultimately, Heat is a stalwart member of top tier American cinema. The new release is available on Amazon for less than eight dollars and is without a doubt worth every cent.  Heavy on exposition, grandiose on the action, this is everything a crime thriller should be.

Highly.  Highly Recommend.

Released in 1960, Billy Wilder’s The Apartment stands as one of the filmmaker’s greatest works, a motion picture written with intelligence, directed with style, and preformed with vitality by its splendid cast, which included Jack Lemmon, Shirley MacLaine, Fred MacMurray, Ray Walston, David Lewis, Willard Waterman, David White, Edie Adams, Hope Holiday, and Jack Kruschen. Few modern romantic comedies have ever reached the heights of this film, which despite being over 50 years old, doesn’t feel dated; there’s a truthful sense of humor and life running all throughout this film’s narrative bones with the sexually thematic underpinnings never losing their bite.

Wilder and co-screenwriter I.A.L. Diamond struck a superb combination of drama and laughs, while never forgetting to ground the story in something emotionally substantial. The idea that Wilder followed up Some Like It Hot with The Apartment is sort of mind-boggling; a director would be lucky to make a film that’s half as good as either of those, let alone release them back to back. The excellent musical score by Adolph Deutsch perfectly matched the on-screen action which was captured in a studious manner by cinematographer Joseph LaShelle; the patient but never slack editing was handled by Daniel Mandell.

And then there’s the titular location itself, beautifully designed by Alexandre Trauner and Edward Boyle, which certainly becomes its own character as a result of the various people occupying the space. This film really has it all; the aesthetics were in line with the themes, Lemmon was in full swing, and the end result is intoxicating. Grossing $25 million back when money was real, The Apartment garnered 10 Academy Award nominations, and won five, including Best Picture, Best Director, Best Screenplay, Best Editing, and Best Art/Set Decoration. In 1968, the film received a Broadway spin-off called Promises, with Neil Simon, Burt Bacharach, and Hal David collaborating on the stage project.

Stephen Gaghan’s Gold is a wild if familiar, sort-of-true-story saga about modern gold prospectors who risk it all in the Indonesian jungle for the pursuit of extreme fortune. Matthew McConaguhey’s over-sized and maybe-too-method performance is the big reason to see this film; if you’re a fan of him as an actor then his oily, greasy, bloodshot, and nearly constantly cocked performance will be a big hoot. Edgar Ramirez gives his usual fine support, and there’s a bunch of familiar faces in the background. But this is the McConaguhey show all the way, with the actor gesticulating like a mad-man while rocking a tragic receding hairline, his puffy face covered in flop sweat in almost every scene, and looking thoroughly toxic and grotesque in nearly every instance; he’s a personal pigsty and I thought it was priceless to observe. Robert Elswit’s fantastic widescreen cinematography is the other big standout in Gold; he’s one of the best, most varied shooters in the business and Elswit gives every sequence of this film a really cool visual atmosphere with some really thoughtful camera angles.

Patrick Massett and John Zinman’s zig-zagging and incident-packed script feels at times borrowed from other “process” narratives and there’s certainly a whiff of cliché running throughout the film’s narrative bones, but I thought this was a raggedly stylish movie that had a certain boozy bravado that kept in interesting if never truly special. It reminds of The Wolf of Wall Street and Blow but lacking some of the pizzazz and amoral laughs those films provided. And when you go and read about the real scandal involving the Canadian mining company Bre-X, you can see how some of the more outlandish moments that happen in the film actually occurred in real life, and how other bits of insanity were jettisoned maybe out of fear of being perceived as too over the top. Daniel Pemberton’s blustery score certainly added some oomph; ditto the tunes on the 80’s-centric soundtrack. Various director and star combos were attached at various stages, while the finished film elicited mixed critical reviews and tepid theatrical box office returns. Gold is now available on Blu-ray/DVD and streamable through various providers.

One of the only CGI-dominated franchises that I personal care about at the moment, the recent rebooting of Planet of the Apes has been spectacular, with both films delivering supreme, photo-real visual effects and narratives that feel topical and human and never anything more than they have to be. This summer’s upcoming War for the Planet of the Apes looks truly epic and is one of the few movies that I’ll actually spend $6 to see in a theater. And while not as emotionally affecting as Rise of the Planet of the Apes, Matt Reeves’s 2014 sequel Dawn of the Planet of the Apes, is an aesthetically robust, smarter-than-normal summer blockbuster that considerably upped the ante in the visual effects department. Completely and flawlessly realized in each and every shot (minus the opening with the antelopes and the phony-looking bear), the apes are startling in their movement and fur patterns, wholly consuming in the face (especially in the eyes), while conveying true weight and scale when compared to the humans.

Andy Serkis as Caesar and Tobby Kebbell as Koba were the clear standouts of this film, with their motion-capture work taking on magnificent shape and scope, with intimate details to match the bigger moments. And because of their prowess as actors underneath their digital monkey suits, I’m able to stay completely invested and engrossed in the story and the action, as the screenwriters wisely decided to spend far more time with the apes than with the humans. Jason Clarke and Keri Russell were solid but sadly Gary Oldman was mostly wasted after a few effective scenes in the beginning; why cast him if you aren’t going to take full advantage? Small quibbles aside, Dawn of the Apes is an excitingly dark and grim popcorn flick with some great rain-drenched cinematography from Michael Seresin, and features more than one “how’d-they-do-that” stedicam shot, and some positively surreal action when the shit hits the fan in the final act. And besides, this film has apes riding horses while firing machine guns, which is always something one should see.