Showing posts with label Kodi Smit-McPhee. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kodi Smit-McPhee. Show all posts

Thursday, October 28, 2010

Animal Kingdom To Rack Up Awards (...In Australia)

Remember that one year (2001) when the list-happy AFI (American Film Institute) decided to compete with the Globes and the Oscars in year end prizes? No, that didn't last long. But there's another AFI, The Australian Film Institute, that has been around for a long time and is in no such danger of being a one-off. This year, they're all about the amazing family crime drama Animal Kingdom which they awarded with a record breaking 18 nominations. Sure, the film is in danger of being way overhyped for people who are coming to it late (which is just about everyone given the sorry state of international distribution for dramas of virtually any kind) but for those who can slough off the "omg" raves, I guarantee you'll think it at least an insinuating and well executed crime drama.

AFI Favorites with multiple nominations

Its main competition for the coveted prizes, if you go by nomination counts, is Bright Star (different eligibility calendar over there in Australia). I haven't really covered the Australian Awards before -- we lean on Glenn for that -- but since i've seen three of their Best Picture nominees this time around (the two leaders plus the aborigine musical Bran Nue Dae), why not?

Complete nomination list -- with more Oscar adjacent & actor related comments -- after the jump.

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

TIFF Capsules: Let Me In, Tamara Drewe, The Illusionist and Stone.

Normally my friend txtcritic who must remain anonymous just, well, texts me. Usually in the form of pithy sentence long reviews or moviegoing observations. But this time he sent capsules of his Toronto experience thus far. Enjoy.
"The Illusionist" shifts downgear from the infectious exuberance of "Triplets of Bellevile" to a more melancholy, low-key thing. It's largely lovely and endearing, but leaves one with a lot more to admire than to get caught up or involved in (though many others seem to be ringing the "masterpiece" bells). The film's incremental snowballing cynicism will ultimately leave you either profoundly sad or oddly cold/disengaged. I'm somewhat between the two, but I'd like another viewing. B

Leigh, Manville, Ruth Sheen & Jim Broadbent @ TIFF

"Another Year" belongs in Leigh's upper-tier. Lesley Manville gets the showy role. At first, I was ready to cry 'overhyped' but her character subtly shifts and slowly grows more downtrodden in such a realistic way that it will make some uncomfortable with recognition. As a whole, the movie's consistently absorbing and lovely in character detail, but Manville's performance is what makes it a heartbreaker. A-
Consensus definitely places Lesley Manville as an Oscar nominee. We already know that Oscar voters respond to the women in Mike Leigh pictures. But will it be a lead or supporting campaign? That probably depends on how the studio feels about her winning chances in either category. I'll be seeing this picture in a couple of weeks. I loved Manville & Broadbent's chemistry together in Topsy Turvy (1999) and though they're not a couple this time I hope they have plentiful scenes together.

Dominic Cooper and Gemma Arterton at the Tamara Drewe premiere to your left. About Stephen Frears latest....
Based on the graphic novel by Posy Simmonds, "Tamara Drewe" constantly alternates between amusing and irritating. It's devoid of substance and aggressively quirky, while never being less than watchable. Certainly a change of pace for Stephen Frears, but makes you wonder why he decided to make this movie. Tamara (Gemma Arterton) is an empty vessel who barely registers as a character and the only one who gives a performance of any depth or complexity is Tamsin Greig as a cuckolded wife. B-/C+

Though it's to be commended for reaching for something beyond the conventional movie the trailers are selling, "Stone" only barely falls just short of Trainwreck designation. It has enough batshit moments to never lose your interest, but it's ultimately the very definition of a "mess"; there's nary a coherent thought in its head. No one seems to have been given much direction, and we're as dumbfounded as how we should feel about their characters as they seem to be. De Niro shows early signs that this will be his first inspired performance in years but then loses his way, and I never could quite get a handle on what Edward Norton or Milla Jovovich were doing. D+
Finally, the early buzz on Let Me In is good dashing our hopes that critics would crucify it. Now normally we don't root against pictures we haven't seen but why was it remade in the first place? Read on...
While "Let Me In" remains an 'unnecessary' remake throughout, Matt Reeves has crafted a surprisingly successful, respectful 'cover' version of the beloved "Let the Right One In." Aside from one or two (superb) sequences, and some amped-up suspense and gore, not much new has been added here. What most impresses is how the film avoids pretty much every possible expected "remake" decision where it could have pandered or "broadened" appeal or caved to general American sensibilities. Reeves absolutely nails the tone of the original film, imposes largely the same look (often even paying homage to the original shot compositions), and the perfectly cast chief actors -- Chloe Grace Moretz, Kodi Smit-McPhee, Richard Jenkins, Elias Koteas -- feel just right in their roles. Skeptics, put away your knives. I think you'll be pleasantly surprised. A-
I'm not sure I'll be pleasantly surprised. So far I've read a couple of reviews proclaiming that it's better than the original and several going to lengths to describe how meticulously director Matt Reeves has transferred the visual aesthetics, mood and even the shots of the original. How is a carefully detailed copy ever better than an original? Or at least how does whatever praise it garners seem like more than an interception? Please to explain. Whatever we love about it, must be credited to the original, if what we love was originated there. It's like when some people wanted to give Zach Snyder credit for the visual aesthetics of Watchmen when what he was essentially doing was following the storyboard and character designs provided by Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons in graphic novel form.

Kodi Smit-McPhee gets bullied in Let Me In

Sorry, sorry. I know I'm off consensus on this topic. But faithful remakes they make-a me crazeeeeeeeeeee. This is why, ironically, I respected Gus Van Sant's Psycho (1998) so much. See, that widely hated film purposefully billed itself as a recreation... it was, therefore, an honest aesthetic experiment and cinematic exercize rather than a movie made to replace another movie for people who can't bring themselves to read subtitles or watch older films.

Maybe I'll calm down once I've seen it if it's good. Maybe I just don't relish having to watch Chloe Moretz every time a film needs a teenager this coming decade. They're casting her in everything (8-10 projects already on the way) and even if I loved her more, I always enjoy a variety of faces in my moviegoing.
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Saturday, June 26, 2010

Reader Request: THE ROAD

Let's just say this right up front. Watching John Hillcoat's The Road (2009) again in the midst of weeks of news reports about the BP oil spill is an entirely different experience than watching The Road during the mad holiday rush when it premiered or earlier still. It takes on a whole new coat of thick dread and sad relatability. This clings to the film as tenaciously as dirt clings to Viggo's weary face. I would add compassion to its new layers but the film always had a robust heart beating underneath the ash, toxic slush and malnourished skin.


Though Joe Penhall's screenplay adaptation preferences more backstory than the masterful Cormac McCarthy novel, it still sidesteps the imagination-deficiency of Hollywood that usually leads to a distracting amount of exposition. Backstory can be useful in small doses but the complete terror at leaving anything to the audience's imagination has ruined too many modern films. It's a relief to see some corrective.

In the case of The Road, it's important for us to know that the apocalypse happened; The amazing art direction (which I probably should have nominated in my personal awards) and shots of a sickly yellow light outside a window, is enough to convey the end of the world. But it's equally crucial that we don't know why said apocalypse happened. This is more realistic (if the world as we know it is suddenly destroyed, chances are the survivors will be utterly confused) and leaves the movie open to complete immersion for any viewer, transcending all political biases.

I, for instance, imagine that any future apocalypse will occur due to either fanatic religious types who just can't swallow the "live and let live" concept or from our systemic political problems which always value corporate profits over the health of our fellow men and the planet (see also: BP oil spill and "drill baby drill" madness, An Inconvenient Truth, etcetera).

But if you were the opposite type of person, say someone who believes in the sanctity of an unregulated market or someone who is deeply religious, or someone who is Sarah Palin, your imagined apocalypse will probably come from other places. There are certainly people out there who think that the apocalypse will come from God because he's angry with people for loving the "wrong" gender, you know?

But no matter.

If or when the world ends, none of these distinctions will matter. The only thing that will matter to anyone is survival. And even that won't be an attractive option. Charlize Theron playing "woman" for example isn't too keen on it. I don't think I would be either, though it'd surely be awfully hard to drag yourself away from Viggo Mortensen. Especially if he was whimpering and begging for you to stay.

"Spend one more night with me. Why.. why do you have to go?"

Theron seems to be willing herself to become the female embodiment of misery with her film choices of late -- when do we ever see her smile? -- but she's good at it. Viggo Mortensen, on the other hand, is a straight up miracle worker.

Is there a famous actor alive who is this masculine yet utterly non-posturing about it? As an actor he can access incredibly soft places that lesser men could never approach without hedging or diluting self consciousness. Viggo's always front and center and as a result The Road becomes a unique animal, a tender apocalyptic drama. This genre tends to go for the jugular with manly brutality. That's kind of flattering machismo posturing itself, letting audiences know that only the strong survive and our hero happens to be THE STRONGEST.

"I won't let anything happen to you. I'll take care of you.
I'll kill anyone who touches you. Because that's my job."

Viggo and screen son Kodi Smit-McPhee are paired well and the papa/child emotions run deep enough that the movie ends up feeling far more brutal than most apocalypse-set films. For this time you can see the death of goodness, or softness, or "the light" if you will, in danger of being snuffed out forever. That's more brutal than any physical violence.

The best things about The Road when it first arrived such as the fine acting from all corners (though the film isn't exactly crowded), smart art direction and a judicious filling out of the novel for the big screen are still intact in the film's second life for home viewing. Unfortunately for all of The Road's rather significant strengths, it was doomed from the get go in measuring up to one of the best novels ever written. For instance, how could the film possibly match the book's final paragraph [SPOILER] which contains such a genius literary flourish, abandoning the characters for a poetic and nearly abstract memory of trout in a stream. [/SPOILER].

And oh, how I wish the movie hadn't had a score. Though the compositions by Nick Cave and Warren Ellis are fine on their own terms as musical elements, a score is the wrong choice for the movie, hobbling its otherwise disheartening emptiness. If ever a movie needed to go without music it was this one. The recurring reminder of "Papa"'s relationship to music, those painful shots of the family piano in a couple of scenes, would be a thousand percent more devastating if the piano and memory scenes were the only notes we heard, music dying along with the rest of the world. Think of that potent moment in Cast Away when the music finally returned to the film as Tom Hanks escaped his island prison? That would never have been as rousing and cathartic had we been hearing a score the whole time. That film stumbles more often than The Road does, so I don't mean to compare the latter unfavorably. But it's hard not to imagine that The Road could have been a truly stark miserabilist classic with more commitment to the withholding of traditional movie comforts.

B+
(up a notch from previous grade)
P.S. If you haven't read the novel, do so immediately. It's an all time great.
*