Hey, everyone. "Moriarty" here with some Rumblings From The Lab.
I’m dizzy from the festival coverage that’s flooding in, but it’s all been great, and it all makes me jealous of these lucky viewers. Venice, Telluride, and this report from Toronto... there’s some great film going on all over the place right now...
Day One-Two
I don't have much to tell so far- I swooped into town from the desert, grabbed a shower and hit the sheets before hitting the screens. I had a chance to see Ararat last night but I needed to get used to the city again- any city, really. (And from what I've been hearing I didn't miss much.)
City of God and Irreversible are duking it out in the streets for early buzz supremacy, but nothing that's played here yet has seized more than isolated imaginations.
Speaking of City of God, if I'm not mistaken I spotted Jennifer Garner sitting a few rows ahead of me at the Varsity when I saw it. Didn't get a chance to say hi- had to get over to the Uptown for Midnight- but if she's done with Daredevil she might be in town for a bit. Also saw Nick Nolte, but you can't go anywhere so far without tripping over Nick. But enough of my blather- you're here for the films, same as me (hard as it might be to tell sometimes):
Heaven (2002, directed by Tom Tykwer)
What a gorgeous film.
Working with a script written by the late Krzysztof Kieslowski (and his writing partner Krzysztof Piesiewicz), Tykwer has created something that sits quite easily in the middle ground between their two styles, a heartbreaking tale of doomed romance.
Cate Blanchett, who I realized with this movie that I am completely besotted with, plays Phillipa, an English teacher in Italy whose attempt to kill the druglord she holds responsible for the deaths of her husband and a number of her students goes horribly, horribly wrong. The bomb she plants kills, not the druglord, but four innocents including two young girls.
Can I just take a moment to say to every actress out there- if you want to look utterly intoxicatingly gorgeous onscreen, take a role in a Tom Tykwer film. Cate is transcendently, tragically beautiful in Heaven (to the point where I think I'm going to have to go watch Bandits after all), a description which applies equally well to her performance. Much as I wanted to elevate her to the pantheon after LOTR there was just no way for me to distinguish where she ended and my mental images of Galadriel began, so it was impossible for me to judge, and in Elizabeth there was so much pageantry and makeup and artifice (in a good way, mind you) she occasionally got lost. But here... this is her movie, and thanks to her the title is extremely apt. Welcome to Goddesshood, Cate. Don't abuse the awesome powers you now wield.
Anyway, back to (from?) Heaven. She's picked up by the carboniari, and the druglord's man on the inside has hijacked the investigation to make her seem like a terrorist, and sweep away all the evidence that his boss is a criminal. None of this really matters to Phillipa, though. The news that she has killed four people- and two children- devastates her, and she collapses.
Enter Filippo, the translator, played by Giovanni Ribisi.
(Yes, I know what you're thinking, but surprise! Ribisi doesn't suck. In fact he's not bad at all. Who would have thought that he'd be more natural acting in Italian than English?)
Filippo summons the doctor, and holds Phillipa's hand as she slowly comes to. Their eyes meet, and he- and we- watch as the enormity of her crime hits her, and something dies inside of her. He falls in love in that moment, and from that point on the rest of the film feels almost preordained. Yes, I realize that's something of an oxymoron. No, it's not an inaccurate description.
A special nod has to be given to Tykwer and his cinematographer Frank Griebe, a partnership that dates back to before Lola Rennt. Tykwer's use of color is eye-popping as usual (for instance the shot of Cate, swathed in yellow afternoon sunlight, sitting across the table from Ribisi wearing a blue shirt is just extraordinary), but the truly magnificent thing about Heaven is the aerial shots. From the nod to North By Northwest at the beginning to the silhouette of the two lovers melting together beneath a tree, the camera spends most of its time outdoors gliding through the air like a lost balloon, or perhaps a tender-hearted, slightly mischievous angel. It's this camerawork, moreso than the training video opening, that sets up the final shot so perfectly. You'll know what I mean when you see it.
City of God (2002, directed by Fernando Meirelles)
It's official- the super-cool stylistic revolution started by the likes of Tarantino and Aronofsky has gone global.
Playing like a PT Anderson film working from a Peckinpah script adapting Angels with Dirty Faces- in Portuguese- City of God crackles with energy. Based on real events (how closely is kind of beside the point) the movie tells the story of the young hoods who live in the City of God, a Rio de Janiero ghetto where the only thing cheaper than life is ammunition. The next generation of thugs kills off the previous, only to themselves be killed by still younger kids, in a Circle of Life the likes of which Disney could never have considered. City of God is sharp and audacious, one of those 'giddy with the possibilities of filmmaking' pictures that at times leaves you sucking in your breath.
Incredibly all the kids in the film are played by non-professional actors, who were found in the very slums that gave birth to the story. There are no seams in the performances though- every part from the biggest to the smallest is nailed. The details ring true too, a feeling that's confirmed during the closing credits when photos and film footage of the historical people being portrayed are shown.
I suppose you could try to level a 'glorifying the violence' charge against City of God if you had to, but I can't see much glory in the sheer number of teenage (and pre-teen) corpses littering the ground by the end of the film.
City of God is a dark, ruthless trip into a different kind of South American jungle, and (since Miramax picked it up) one that you should be able to take yourself soon enough. Don't miss it.
The Good Thief (2002, directed by Neil Jordan)
Here's the thing with Neil Jordan- he's extremely predictable. Every third film he makes kicks serious ass, and the other two are utter shite. Go take a look at his imdb.com page- Crying Game was followed by Interview with the Vampire and Michael Collins, before he rebounded with Butcher Boy, then did In Dreams and The End of the Affair afterwards. One great, two crap, one great, two crap... which brings us to the Good Thief.
Nick Nolte plays Bob Montagnet (or Montana, depending on who you talk to) a junkie gambler bullshit artist and former thief, but not a bad guy for all that. He rescues Asia Argento's coltish younger sister (actually newcomer Nutsa Kukhianidze, but tell me there isn't a resemblance) from a life of prostitution, then handcuffs himself to his bedframe to go cold turkey after the proverbial last big job falls into his lap. Do I really need to tell you that many twists and turns and betrayals will follow? Nah, course I don't. You already know.
What you don't know is how fantastic Nolte and Jordan make this film. The whole thing swoops and wails like jazz pouring out into the night from some basement bistro in Marsailles. Nolte is just unbelievable- seemingly channeling Chet Baker, his gravel voice dragging itself up his throat like a character in a Poe story, this is quite possibly his best performance ever. Jordan matches him note for note too, styling the film like an Old World version of Out of Sight. The two of them in tandem are just magnificent, and the rest of the cast- including Tcheky Karyo, Said Taghmaoui, and Ralph Fiennes in a wee cameo- fill in around the two soloists where needed, never getting in the way but adding their own distinct voices to the melody.
So yes, the pattern holds- the Good Thief rocks. In other words, I wouldn't get your hopes up about Borgia.
Spun (2002, directed by Jonas Akerlund)
When it comes to drug movies, there's the Requiem for a Dream kind- the 'drugs are bad, mmm-kay' school- and the Trainspotting kind- the 'drugs are bad but man, will you have a blast getting there' school. (Then of course there's the Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas kind, but let's not confuse the issue.)
Spun is the delinquent kid who kept getting suspended from the second school.
Starring a motley cast of young actors apparently intent on destroying their images (except for Brittany Murphy, who's turning these kinds of roles into her own private genre), John Leguizamo and an especially seedy Mickey Rourke, Spun is a street-level bit of craziness about the methamphetamine trade. Slanted and enchanted, the film simultaneously manages to capture the buzz, the crash and the emotional wreckage left behind by getting hooked on crank. It's also wickedly funny, missing no opportunity to savage the Springer-reject losers populating the film.
Spun doesn't blaze any new trails, but it does pop a few wheelies. Strap yourselves in and enjoy.
Can’t wait to see what else Anton wades through during his time in Toronto. His coverage is one of the things I wait for each year, and he’s off to a great start this year, as usual...
"Moriarty" out.
