Hey folks, Harry here with my personal pick for the most dedicated reviewer at AICN. Capone tirelessly wades through crap and glory to give you the lowdown as he sees it. On top of that - he's just one of the best people you'd ever get to know. Personally - if he replaced Roepper on Ebert's show - you'd all fall in love with him. And if Ebert retired and he replaced Rog - he'd make Roepper out to be... well - it'd be awesome. Here is the wonderful Capone giving us the scoop on the end of the year releases...
Hey, everyone. Capone in Chicago here. Sleep is no longer an option, hours
are spent in dark screening rooms and multiplexes trying almost in vain to
see everything that qualifies as a 2005 release before the year is out. I've
set a deadline for myself to actually have my Best of 2005 list completed
(and hopefully posted) before the end of the year rather than, oh I don't
know, February. Here are a few titles to get things rolling. Welcome to my
last reviews entry of 2005.
Munich
I never thought I’d even think this about a Steven Spielberg film that
didn’t include hundreds of special effects shots, but if you don’t see this
film, something is terribly wrong with you. Spielberg has managed to make a
movie as compelling and far more controversial than Schindler’s List. Munich
is controversial more for the fact that it presents such a balanced look at
the events that occurred after the horrible 1972 assassination of 11 Israeli
athletes at the Olympic Games in Munich, Germany. Spielberg does an
astonishing job at simply laying out the albeit disputed facts, as the
Israeli government unofficially sanctions a team of men (most of whom were
not trained assassins) to find and kill those who carried out or planned the
event in Munich.
The team is lead by family man Eric Bana (The Hulk, Troy) in a role worthy
of many awards, and includes specialists played by Daniel Craig (the man who
will be the next James Bond), Ciarán Hinds (Caesar of HBO’s “Rome”), and
Mathieu Kassovitz (Amalie). Geoffrey Rush plays the Israeli government man
who puts the team together and promptly distances them from any connection
with their own nation. What follows is not slick and calculated, but messy
and disturbing murder. Spielberg masterfully intercuts a bloody re-creation
of the events of the Olympics with the killing of the terrorists, and leaves
it to us to decide if one sets of events is any more or less cruel than the
other.
Everyone who sees Munich will certainly bring in his or her own emotional
and critical baggage to this film, and it will undoubtedly taint your
opinion of it. But if it’s possible for you to take a step back from the
feelings the film stirs inside, you may actually realize that Munich is a
first-rate political thriller than asks as many questions about when
governments cross the line into becoming what they are attempting to
destroy. Has this issue ever been more relevant? Each Israeli assassin has
at least one sincere moment questioning their course of action, no more so
than Bana’s character, who has a wife and child who soon become targets of
retaliation once the terrorists find out who has targeted them. There is a
final shot of Bana in New York City that brings the entire reason for this
line of questioning and new way of thinking back home, and it’s a
devastating shot I think only Spielberg could get away with and not be
accused of being exploitative. He is our nation’s greatest cinematic
storyteller, and with Munich, he becomes its most welcome thought-provoker
as well.
Match Point
If you pay any kind of attention to the films of Woody Allen (presumably
because you are or were a fan of his work), you are probably insanely
curious about Match Point, if for no other reason than to see what Allen is
capable of out of his element, without his security blanket of neurotic
characters and endless one-liners. Set entirely in England with an almost
all-British cast (the lone exception is Scarlett Johansson), Allen has
chosen to cast his keen eye on upper-class British society through the eyes
of a man attempting to join its ranks, former tennis pro turned instructor
Chris Wilton (Jonathan Rhys Meyers).
Wilton meets the very rich Tom Hewett (Matthew Goode), who in turn
introduces Wilton to his charming sister Chloe (the always exceptional Emily
Mortimer). Allen lulls us into a false sense of security in the first 30-40
minutes. There is much polite, interesting conversation between the
characters with barely a hint of the type of humor Allen is best known for.
Chris eventually meets Tom’s fiancée Nola (Johansson), an insecure American
actress, who might be the only character in Match Point that would fit in
within the context of a more typical Woody Allen movie. She’s also instantly
flirtatious with Chris, and in the blink of an eye, this pleasant British
study of mannerisms become an adulterous love story. But Allen isn’t through
surprising us with his multi-layered story. With seemingly effortless grace,
Match Point goes from polite and civil to steamy to a Hitchcockian thriller.
Allen writing has never been sharper and more seamless. By completely
avoiding his traditional joke-telling style, he leaves room for some of his
most fully realized and morally complex characters. He’s also never seemed
more in tune with his actors before. There’s a veritable chorus line of
well-known British talent on display in Match Point, including appearances
by Brian Cox, James Nesbitt, Penelope Wilton, and even members of the comedy
troupe “The League of Gentlemen” (although they play it straight here). And
anyone that says that Johansson is out of her depth here is partly right.
Since her character clearly feels out of place among these upper-crust
types, it’s natural for her to seem uneasy in her skin. It’s as good a
performance as she’s ever given. To say any more about the plot would be
ruining some truly guy-wrenching twists Allen has devised, so I’ll say no
more.
When I first say Match Point nearly two months ago, my first reaction was
that is ranked with Woody Allen’s finest films. It’s undoubtedly the best of
his dramas, but I also think it will be of great interest to people who
normally can’t stand Allen’s films. This film is the best reason I can think
of to either rediscover this true master, or discover for the first time the
depths of his talents as a filmmaker.
The White Countess
The latest and presumably last official Merchant-Ivory production (since
producer Ismail Merchant died earlier this year; although his name may still
be attached to future projects) is more a collection of curiosities than an
actual cohesive film, that doesn’t make it any less interesting. For
example, the fact that director James Ivory has cast sisters Vanessa and
Lynn Redgrave (as sisters) and Vanessa’s daughter Natasha Richardson in key
roles in The White Countess is genuinely fascinating. The fact that, in one
of his most prolific and substantial years to date, Ralph Fiennes gets to
sink his teeth into the role of a feisty, abrasive blind American
businessman, living in 1930s Shanghai on the eve of the Japanese invasion is
reason enough for celebration. But when Fiennes’ Todd Jackson character and
Richardson’s Countess Sofia Belinsky (exiled Russian aristocrat living in
Shanghai as a prostitute to support her family) meet and interact, things
aren’t nearly as explosive or engaging as one might think.
This is not to say that there aren’t some moving moments in The White
Countess. But when so much of what Ivory wants us to feel is tied up in
confusing and unfamiliar world history (at least to most Americans, which I
suppose is our fault) and passions that never quite manifest themselves,
what we are left with are a handful of very good performances and an
oppressive storyline that never quite lives up to its potential. I was
particularly drawn to the Belinsky’s tragic tale, and how her family is more
than happy to take her dirty money while barely being able to look her in
the eye because they are ashamed of what she did to earn it. Sofia is not
even allowed to look upon her adoring daughter when she’s in her makeup and
outfit to go to work at a sleazy dancehall.
Jackson leaves behind his business dealings to open up a nightclub where
those from all walks of life and political beliefs can mingle and listen to
the best entertainers the city has to offer. By only hearing Sofia’s voice,
he knows she must be the one to act as the hostess and face of his
establishment. Their relationship is strictly business (well, most of the
time), but raging political and military forces from the outside world
threaten this quaint oasis of booze and beauty. The White Countess reminds
you of a fading beauty, who still possesses a semblance of its former glory,
but is irreparably flawed. There’s enough here to recommend a viewing,
especially for fans of Fiennes’ work, but the film may leave you feeling
empty and ambiguous.
Breakfast on Pluto
The latest from mater director Neil Jordan is like a film starring a lead
character from another planet, and we should all take great job in that
fact. Breakfast on Pluto (written by Jordan, based on the book by Pat
McCabe) is the life story of Patrick Brady, played with loving enthusiasm by
one of the busiest actors of 2005, Cillian Murphy (Scarecrow in Batman
Begins, and the terrorist in Red Eye). We follow Patrick from his early
years as a foster child in a nasty Irish household to his teen and adult
years as a transvestite cabaret singer named Kitten. Murphy’s performance is
sweet and immaculate, but I’ve certainly heard some declare him obnoxious,
mostly because of a highly affected voice Murphy puts on for most of the
film. I’ll admit, the voice takes some getting used to.
Jordan has filled his carnival-like film with loads of great actors,
including Liam Neeson as a priest who befriends Patrick throughout his
troubled life, Stephen Rea, Brendan Gleeson, Ian Hart, and musician Gavin
Friday. In a Forrest Gump-like gimmick, Patrick/Kitten finds himself/herself
in the midst of some troubling episodes in Irish-British history, including
taking up residence in a harmless looking mobile home where the IRA stashes
weapons. Most of the time Kitten is oblivious to all things bad and serious
as she devotes her life to searching for her long-lost mother.
Breakfast on Pluto most reminds me of a more based-in-reality version of Tim
Burton’s Big Fish, as Kitten moves from place to place, person to person
always seeming to find help just when it’s needed. Jordan fills our ears
with wonderful British pop-rock tunes of the ‘60s and ‘70s, and always makes
certain there is something lovely to look at on screen. As mentioned before,
Murphy throws his mind, body and soul into this performance, beyond even the
glossy makeup and fabulous clothes. He has a dreamy, far-away look in his
eyes that makes you wish you could see what he sees. Kitten is an infectious
character whose exploits I never tired of watching. Ditto goes for the film.
Casanova
One of the more startling disappointments of 2005 was attending a screening
of Casanova so close on the heels of seeing Brokeback Mountain. I’ve been
digging Heath Ledger’s scene this year. His scene-stealing, drugged-out role
in Lords of Dogtown was fantastic, and I even thought he held his own in the
troubled Brothers Grimm. And it goes without saying that his work in
Brokeback Mountain is worthy of many an award. So I was genuinely excited
about seeing him play the legendary Venetian seducer of women in this frilly
costume comedy of the sexes. Instead what we get is a mumbling Ledger and a
politically correct account of the woman that finally brought Casanova to
his senses about his dastardly ways.
As directed by Lasse Hallström, Casanova is a vibrant-looking work with no
real soul to back its lush look. The puffy shirts are extra puffy, the
bodices pulled extra tight, the feathers in the hats seem capable of flight.
But the heart of this story is absent. Casanova is seen chased from the
bedroom of married women, supposed virgins, even a nun, and it’s all great
fun as representatives from the Inquisition make an appearance and attempt
to jail or even execute the man. Make no mistake, this is a film made by the
Lasse Hallström who made Chocolat, not the one who make The Cider House
Rules. Even the most serious matters seem to generate a la-dee-da attitude
in the characters. But the biggest sin Casanova commits is never showing us
a true sense of the man’s hypnotic powers over women. The woman who takes up
most of his time in this film is Francesca Bruni (Sienna Miller), a
not-so-closeted feminist set up by her lovely mother (Lena Olin) to marry
lard magnate Lord Papprizzio (Oliver Platt).
There are few things in the world I can count on more than Oliver Platt
making any movie- or TV-watching experience a little bit better, but even
his portrayal of the pig-like Papprizzio doesn’t work its magic like it
should. Also on hand is Lead Inquisitor Pucci (Jeremy Irons), who seems more
caricature than character. And while I certainly wasn’t expecting any deep,
meaningful insight into the mind and mannerisms of Lord Jacomo Casanova, I
certainly wanted something with more substance than this film has. Ledger
seems wholly uninspired, and this might be the Casanova’s biggest set back.
If he can’t muster any enthusiasm for the work, why should we?
Rumor Has It
Rob Reiner has really rocked my world lately. With such forgettable gems as
Alex & Emma and The Story of Us to his recent credit, I don’t think I’m the
only one on the verge of writing Reiner off as past his prime. This is not
an easy decision to come to. The man gave us Spinal Tap, Stand by Me, The
Princess Bride, Misery, and the film that redefined the modern romantic
comedy, When Harry Met Sally…. Of course, the most recent of these films was
made in 1990. Rumor Has It is far from a great film, but it’s promising
thanks to a clever screenplay by Ted Griffin (Ocean’s Eleven remake,
Matchstick Men). Reiner throws in plenty of cornball jokes that threaten
this healthy script, but he more or less just shoots it and lets the story
tell itself.
Rumor Has It follows the tumultuous life of Sarah Huttinger (Jennifer
Aniston), who, on the eve of her younger sister’s (Mena Suvari) wedding,
accidentally discovers that the book and movie The Graduate was actually a
barely disguised version of events that happened to her mother and
grandmother. With her mother long dead, Sarah turns to grandmother
Katharine, a note-perfect Shirley MacLaine, whose Mrs. Robinson tendencies
are clearly visible almost immediately. Sarah discovers that in fact her
mother did not run away with “Benjamin” in real life, but did skip out on
her fiancée (Richard Jenkins) shortly before their wedding for a few days to
spend a romantic few days with former flame Beau Burroughs (Kevin Costner).
Sarah does the math and begins to wonder if Beau might be her real father,
since she seemingly has nothing in common with the rest of her family. Her
head is further clouded by her recent engagement to a lovely man named Jeff
(Mark Ruffalo), who she clearly adores but isn’t sure if they should be
married. Sarah tracks down the highly successful Beau and things get a
little nutty as she attempts to explain the situation to him and gently
figure out whether they’re related.
After a bold, sexy acting turn in Derailed recently, Aniston reverts back to
familiar Rachel-isms with Rumor Has It. Her comic timing is still sharp, and
she can make funny faces with the best of them. Her scenes with MacLaine are
priceless, and when Sarah starts to uncover the truth about herself, her
family and her mother’s secret life, their relationship makes some
unexpected shifts. As the film digs deeper into Sarah’s insecurities about
relationships, The Graduate storyline drifts off, which isn’t necessarily a
good thing. The film’s third act suffers greatly as we get more and more
into familiar Reiner territory. Is Sarah confused because of her biological
identity or is it something deeper? Who cares?
As strong as Costner was earlier this year in The Upside of Anger playing a
not dissimilar role, he seems above some of the trite dialogue and behavior
in Rumor Has It. He’s capable enough to suffer through those scenes and make
them seem weightier than they really are, but he just seems like he’s trying
to do a high dive into a kiddy pool. Rumor Has It is a highly watchable
family comedy, but coming out so soon on the heals of the far superior The
Family Stone, the choice seems obvious, no matter how much you like The
Graduate.
Capone
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