Hola all. Massawyrm here. Well, it finally appears that we’re finally out of the August blahs and into the September Genre/Academy award season – and an interesting lot we have this month. From The Corpse Bride to Serenity to A History of Violence, this could be one hell of a geek month – or one hell of a geek let down. For me, the months started off just fine.
The Exorcism of Emily Rose.
Man is this movie being sold wrong - but then again it’s not the easiest movie to sell. Contrary to the advertising we’ve all been seeing, The Exorcism of Emily Rose is far from being a straight up horror film. In what could easily have been an Exorcist knock off, this film goes into new territory proving not to be just another Exorcism film, but rather the Inherit the Wind of exorcism films. Focusing upon the court case surrounding the death of Emily Rose, this film is a philosopher’s horror film - a movie you simply can’t walk out of the theatre and shrug about. You have to talk about it. You have to find the nearest person and debate it. Love it or hate it, it’s a film that gets inside of you and demands that you discuss it’s merits and flaws, both as a film and a discussion on faith.
While the classic Inherit the Wind makes the argument for science and facts versus antiquated theology, the case surrounding Emily Rose inverts that formula, arguing faith, belief and possibility against antiquated facts and cynical belief systems. Making the case for possibility rather than definitive religious proof, The Exorcism of Emily Rose often offers dual perspectives of events – those that are supernatural and those that clearly are not. It never requires you to believe one way or another to involve yourself in the argument, which being a film so heavy on debate and viewpoints, will certainly involve you regardless of which side you fall on.
As a film Emily Rose is both entertaining and effective. Even it’s harshest critics when I saw this agreed that the exorcism sequence itself was an edge of your seat, tense horrific piece of filmmaking. Creepy and jaw-clenching when it means to be and intellectually intriguing the rest of the time, this film is really one of those “Don’t see it alone” movies – not because of its scares, but rather so you can assure yourself of a good conversation afterwards. It really is a movie meant to be digested and discussed.
Jennifer Carpenter is mesmerizing as Emily Rose – her performance both adorably endearing and creepy as all hell. If nothing else, you will feel for this girl as her body contorts, her mouth howls out things most foul and her eyes scream out for help. And what really sells her is that she has this genuine girl-next-door quality – there’s something very real, personable and likable about her just by the way she stands and her eyes light up. The Exorcism of Emily Rose focuses on the sheer reality of the situation, even in the most unbelievable of events, and Jennifer Carpenter accentuates that at every turn. With an almost Angela Bettis kind of charm, she hooks you in with her unconventional beauty and her highly honed talent, leaving you in love with the girl Hollywood would normally snub.
If this film has one real flaw, it’s that the dialog in a select few scenes comes across a little cliché, covered in the doom and gloom of typical Christian Mythology films. Fortunately, with the bulk of those lines being delivered by indie film veterans Laura Linney and Tom Wilkinson, the almost laughable edge of those lines is dulled down to “Man, that line could have been written a little better” wince. But the performances of these two at their usual major league levels cements this film far into the well-acted category, neither doing better than they’ve done before, but both at the top of their game.
Overall, the Exorcism of Emily Rose is a solid film, but not one that’s going to go down in the books as a classic in the horror genre. If you’re looking for something truly terrifying, this isn’t the film you’ve been waiting for. However, if the idea of a thinking man’s horror film appeals to you or Christian mythology films are your particular brand of vodka, then this film definitely delivers.
Junebug
Of all the movies to bore me recently, Junebug is the film that forced me to imagine 30 different ways I could remove my eyes with the objects I had on hand. A perfect example of what’s wrong with independent film theory these days, Junebug meanders through what could very generously be called a story as it presents us with character sketches that it pretends to develop. Telling the story of an art dealer who marries a backwoods southern hick, we’re never treated to any reason whatsoever why these two people fell in love and married a week later. They simply meet – they kiss – and then truck off to meet the in-laws. That’s the opening credits of the film.
We are then treated to two hours of the husband all but disappearing, leaving his new Chicago upper crust wife to deal with the most obnoxious, thinly drawn set of characters we’ve seen in recent years. Characters with long running motivations that can be summed up as “untrusting mother-in-law” and “father who can’t find his screwdriver and spends the whole film looking for it.” And who can forget “Asshole brother” who seems to have no motivation whatsoever. The only vaguely interesting character in the film is played by Amy Adams, who presents us with a character so annoying and shrill, it takes a terrible tragedy (the films one plot point about 90% in) to even somewhat endear us to her. And even then you can only appreciate the performance, not the character.
This film suffers from a terrible lack of writing from the school of thought that thinks “If it’s real, if it’s true to life, nothing really needs to happen. It’s a character portrait.” And personally, I think that theory is horseshit. If a movie doesn’t ENTERTAIN, it must ENLIGHTEN and if it doesn’t enlighten it must MAKE US FEEL and if it can’t do that, it should be showing us something either beautiful or disturbing – it must give us something, anything, to chew on. Junebug lacks any of this. It’s just a portrait – a moving portrait of some of the most dull, lifeless characters I’ve seen in quite some time. And it gives us nothing at all in return for our time.
If Junebug succeeds at anything, it’s being realistic. I really truly felt like I was spending two hours with my in-laws. Every minute I was in that theatre I wanted to turn to my wife and say “Could we please go now? You’re folks are driving me nuts.” For anyone who’s ever run to their car from the in-laws front door only to turn and give their significant other a hateful look of “Why the fuck did I marry you? It’s hardly worth this,” there is the cinematic experience of Junebug. But as real as it gets, it never bothers to entertain. It’s not funny, despite trying, it’s not particularly biting or poignant and it has nothing to say. Nothing at all. Except perhaps “Aren’t hicks weird.” Complete with extended shots of people standing in their yard looking at the newcomer and prolonged scenes of the father sleepwalking through the house in search of that damned screwdriver, this film feels like the fluff and filler that Jim Jarmusch would actually say “You know, we should cut this – the movies moving far to slow.”
This is pretentious twaddle – an attempt at a high minded look at how the other half lives, without actually being high minded. It’s a movie for people who expressly love movies that are not at all what Hollywood or indiewood has to offer. But to add insult to injury, the film isn’t particularly well shot or constructed – it’s mediocre fare even by arthouse standards. But if you disagree with me on theory, and delight in a two hour character snapshot, this film will probably be the unknown gem that you’ll be suggesting to friends who will later want to punch you in the arm. Imagine a Harmony Korine script without anything at all disturbing and you get a rough idea of what this film is. It’s that kind of waste of time.
Proof
Now, for those ready to lambaste me in the talkbacks over my feelings on character pieces, hold up a second. I submit to you Proof. From acclaimed hit and miss director John Madden (Shakespeare in Love/Captain Corelli’s Mandolin) comes a film that showcases exactly how a slow, involving, character piece should be made. Proof is the story of the daughter of a renown mathematics professor who has recently died after a long bout of some mental wasting disease that involved him writing notebook after notebook of mindless ramblings. When a notebook with a brilliant new mathematical proof describing the origin of prime numbers shows up, the question of authorship arises as the daughter must question whether she’s inherited her father’s genius or her father’s madness.
While very little actually happens in Proof (it’s based upon the stage play by David Auburn) the characters are so rich, textured and evolving that you can’t help but get caught up in even their most trivial of details. A film that couldn’t be more of a Miramax film if it tried (without the inclusion of Joseph Fiennes), Proof brings together Gwyneth Paltrow, Anthony Hopkins, Jake Gyllenhaal and Hope Davis and like Junebug, rarely leaves the house in which the film is set. Unlike Junebug however, even the most obnoxious of characters (Hope Davis as the sister) is fully fleshed out and understandable. The motivations are all raw and intriguing – the mystery, while seemingly boring in concept, proves to be absolutely fascinating due to their reactions to it and their ruminations on it.
And Proof turns out to be more than just a clever title. For anyone and everyone that’s ever thought Gwyneth Paltrow was incredibly overrated – a pretty face with a passable ability as an actress – proof turns out to be her golden ticket, her ascension into the pantheon of truly great award winning actresses. This is the true summation of her life’s work, a masterfully crafted, layered performance of a woman on the edge of sanity wrestling with the fact that she’s given up a large chunk of her young life, something her father has stressed are the most creative years of her life, to take care of someone who’s effectively left her with nothing. If ever there was a performance out of Paltrow that was worthy of an Oscar, this is it (and I guarantee you she will be nominated, if not wins it outright). This is a performance so good, it’s going to be tough to beat – and tough for anyone to ever forget. Paltrow is simply heartbreaking in this movie. Despite her character dressing down and short on makeup, she has never been so beautiful, so lovable and so endearing as she is here. Even her most vocal, bile spitting critics will have to give this one to her. She is absolutely amazing in this film – not just the best female performance I’ve seen this year, but the best performance period. This is exactly the type of performance we go to the movies for and everything the spin has been telling us Paltrow was capable of for years - and many have felt she simply has never delivered. No amount of Duets, View from the Top’s or Bounce’s can sully her now. This is the performance film buffs will remember her for.
But it’s not just Paltrow who delivers in this one – everyone is fantastic. Watching Hopkins and Paltrow play off one another’s character ticks is simply magical. Hopkin’s portrayal of the doting but ever more senile father is another of his great roles. Gyllenhaal’s proud acolyte of Hopkin’s and would be suitor to Paltrow adds nothing but sheer depth and sympathy to both those characters. And Davis’s sister to Paltrow perfectly shows us everything Paltrow has given up to be a good daughter.
Slow moving, but excellently constructed, this film is simply a joy to drink in. This is the Miramax character film for people who absolutely love Miramax character films - A true breath of fresh air to kick off Oscar season - one to both leave Paltrow fans grinning ear to ear and one to forge new fans entirely. Highly recommended for anyone who enjoys a well crafted, intelligently written, and perfectly executed character sketch.
Well, until next time friends, smoke ‘em if ya got ‘em. I know I will.
