 Next to Night and Fog, the best Resnais I've seen (which is a strange comparison) Director: Alain Resnais Writer: Jean-Michel Ribes Cinematographer: Éric Gautier Producer: Bruno Pésery by Jon Cvack I catch a lot of heat when I say that I think Hiroshima, Mon Amour (1959) and Last Year at Marienbad (1961) are two extremely overrated movies. I’ve seen Hiroshima twice now, possibly three times, and it doesn’t get any more enjoyable (or less low). And although I’m bored by many of Buñuel films, Marienbad was like watching paint dry, epitomizing the B&W foreign art house stereotype (as 500 Days of Summer does a great job of satirizing). Though in saying that I think Night and Fog (1956) is phenomenal, and one of the most haunting documentaries I’ve ever seen. While I haven’t even come close to working my way through his filmography, I probably won’t as most of his films are rated at around three stars. Suffice it to say I wasn’t exactly thrilled when I realized who made this film. I was expecting an eccentric experimental story all taking place at a dinner party. Instead I discovered a wonderful and relatively light hearted multi-narrative, straight from the period when movies like Magnolia (1999), 21 Grams (2003), and Crash (2004) were running strong. The film follows six characters, involving a secretary Charlotte (Sabine Azema) and her boss Therrly (André Dussollier) who work at a real estate office, showing apartments to a middle aged engaged and beautiful couple Nicole (Laura Morante) and Dan (Lambert Wilson). Dan’s out of work, spending most of his time at the bar where he talks to bartender Lionel (Pierre Arditi). Meanwhile, during the night Charlotte takes care of Lionel’s bedridden and foul mouthed father. Charlotte is also a Christian, trying her best to honor its tenants. At the real estate office, she lends Thierry a VHS tape she recorded of a music program. However, when Therrly puts it on, after his daughter Gaelle (Isabelle Carre) leaves, the tape suddenly cuts to a neck down homemade strip show. Suspecting that Charlotte was giving him a message, he then makes a move on her, realizing that Charlotte had no clue about the porn section. Dan and Nicole are struggling to find an apartment, with Dan demanding that it have two bedrooms and a study. Nicole doesn’t see the point, as Dan doesn’t do anything requiring study, let alone have a job to pay for such a large apartment. Their relationship quickly disintegrates in one of the best scenes of the film, as Dan comes home wasted once again, to find Nicole equally tanked, ready to call it quits. Dan goes on to meet Nicole, and for awhile we’re left wondering if he simply wants another conquest, or another person to take care of him. Nicole then later gets mad when she discovers Thierry watching the porn tape, and so all these characters lives connect. Looking at the film on IMDb I see that the original titles was “Coeurs”, which translates to “Hearts.” It was only after I read Philip French’s review on Wikipedia that I realized how sad the movie kind of is - “All of them are in search of love and companionship. They're deeply lonely, though none is a natural loner, and their individual backgrounds, and in some cases the nature of their sexuality, are only hinted at.” The saddest couple is obviously Dan and Nicole, especially as we piece together their relationship. Dan was a former soldier, struggling in many ways with a return to civilian life, refusing to work and drinking himself stupid every night, though clearly, once upon a time, the two were happy, with Nicole hoping for its return, and Dan slowly learning that it’s far too late. Other characters like Thierry and Charlotte demonstrate varying degrees of loneliness, with Thierry finding solace in his daughter, and Charlotte finding insight from Lionel. Neither is as strong as Nicole and Dan, and while they were fun to watch, it at times felt like it just didn’t go as far as you’d hope. While the lighthearted vibe was perfect for most of the material, it seemed to prevent more somber moments from really coming across. Perhaps it was a case of low expectations leading to a great time, but I really enjoyed seeing Resnais’ take on the multi-narrative format, providing us with fascinating characters, and some photography that makes the BluRay worth seeking. BELOW: Resnais didn't make the cleanest jump to color, but there's still a couple cinematic moments Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page
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 Solid performances from Jamal Udin Torabi and Enayatullah Director: Michael Winterbottom Writer: Tony Grisoni Cinematography: Marcel Zyskind Producer: Andrew Eaton and Anita Overland by Jon Cvack I’m fairly certain that In This World has been in my Netflix queue for at least ten years, holding the record by probably eight years compared to the next one. I believe it was placed into the lineup while I was writing a research paper back in college, possibly even while reading one of David Kellner’s book. I recall the discussion about how as affordable digital cameras began to arrive in the late 90s/early 00s there was a proliferation of independent documentaries. Filmmaker Michael Winterbottom took influence and created a series of “docu-dramas” in which the movies were filmed with the same cheap digital cameras, using the natural environment and resources in order to craft a story that feels and looks very much like a documentary. The movie embodies the 00s video aesthetic, reflecting a period in which the decent looking video technology began creeping into affordability, but still far from catching up to professional standards. What we get is a film whose look demonstrates its exact age, no different than classic film noir, most popular 1950s black and white film, or the crime movies from the 1970s. In This World makes us feel that we are the middle of the Iraq War, during those first few years after the Iraq War. Winterbottom transports us, in which similar The Lady in the Lake (1947), the entire story feels as though its through the eyes of a cameraman; a documentarian who was assigned the story and got to share his wild journey. The story involves two Afghani refugees, Jamal (Jamal Ubin Torabi) and Enayat (Enayatullah), as they escape a refugee camp in Pakistan and sneak to London. They scrape together whatever money they have and pay smugglers to sneak across the borders using any means necessary - hiding in vegetable trucks, container ships, and beneath semis, making their way across Iran, Turkey, and France. While some might be quick to criticize the use of those horrible early 00s digital effects, it was during these moments that the film’s precise year began to show. What I enjoyed about the story was its preservation of history - serving as a fine example of how technology and story can work create a historical document. The film reflects not just where the world was politically, but technically as well, creating the unique experience of *feeling* like that period time (as any great film achieves). To have made this film any other way - while preserving the intimate and assumedly real moments we got to experience - would have been near impossible. The story was simple, feeling as though it was improvised throughout production, as the crew tried to find ways to incorporate the environment they were exploring. If not, it’s all the more impressive. Of course, as with any mockumentary, it’s that improvisation that creates such a vivid portrait. Yet having watched a lot of Cassavetes, with Mikey and Nicky (1976) just a few weeks prior to this, I think the story fell a bit short of where it could, at times relying too much on dramatic moments, rather than providing us intimate glimpses into these characters - what they cared about, what provided their determination and courage. Add the special effects, and for as much as much I can appreciate them, I think the story would have been better served to in focusing on the smaller moments. BELOW: Taking some cameras and shooting at an actual refugee camp Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Even the prop had CGI Director: Steven Spielberg Writer: David Koepp; story by George Lucas and Jeff Nathanson; based on Characters by George Lucas Philip Kaufman Cinematographer: Janusz Kamiński Producer: Frank Marshall by Jon Cvack Continued from Part 1... I was surprised to see Spielberg abandon his roots, forfeiting what had worked three films in a row, all becoming modern classics of the highest caliber, simply in order to try and wow audiences by a bunch of the generic CGI shots. And the thing is, this might have worked if Spielberg didn’t abandon his ability to have the characters pull us in. Take a look at the intro to Raiders of the Lost Arc or The Last Crusade (it’s also been about a decade since I’ve seen Temple of Doom), and what we get is a very clear goal - get the item and escape alive. In the case of Crystal Skull, Indy is taken prisoner, forced to lead them to what they’re looking for, and then attempting to retrieve the alien corpse that he wasn’t even looking for in the first place. While the escape sequence is kind of cool in that he ends up in a creepy life size model town used for nuclear weapon testing, it falls into trope as, naturally they’re about to test a nuclear bomb while he's there, leading Indy to hide in a refrigerator while the bomb explodes, and regardless of nuclear fallout, radiation, or how hot it’d be seconds after the explosion, Indiana just walks away. I honestly sat in disbelief that this was the world we were expected to believe. While TCL took me away into another world, within seconds of Crystal Skull I was aware I was watching an absurd film that had completely abandoned any sense of logic. The fact that this was made by Spielberg honestly breaks my heart, as this film almost seems like a pre-teenage boys overly caffeinated fantasy of what a cool Indiana Jones sequel could be. But it actually gets worse. From this ridiculous sequence and skipping ahead about an hour, we enter into one of the most ridiculous uses of CGI I’ve ever seen, in which there’s an initial deep jungle car chase that leads to a fire ant attack. It honestly felt as though Spielberg was the fox who found his way into the henhouse, as he unrelentingly depends on CGI for nearly every shot in this entire sequence. In a high speed chase through the middle of the jungle - not on a road in the middle of the jungle, but the middle of the jungle - in which somehow the cars fail to encounter the slightest impediment - not a log, puddle, or tree stump ever stands in their way, as they cruise forward. As if that’s not enough, Shia LeBouf somehow jumps off one of the racing jeeps and grabs one of the vines, climbing or being pulled up, to which he finds a group of monkeys, who then lead him swinging through the lianas as they return to the speeding jeeps. This finally ends when they crash into a fire ant mound, which pour out and start attacking some people, but not others, like when Indiana Jones pulls out the Crystal Skull, or when they for some reason skip Irina, going for her Soviet partner instead, even though there were more than enough ants to kill everyone. It was clear that any canon had been completely discarded, looking to The Mummy and Pirates of the Caribbean series for the extent of logical impossibility. By this point I couldn’t even grow nostalgic, wondering how Spielberg could have done this with his old style. It would have been impossible - the moment there was a car chase in the jungle with monkeys and thousands of fire ants attacking humans we were past any imaginings. I started to become confused, feeling a sense of betrayal, as though the character I had grown up with and loved abandoned all it stood for. I then remembered that Spielberg made Bridge of Spies last year - one of the greatest films of this decade and I calmed down. The film continues on this path, never really topping the jungle scene’s absurdity. It culminates in some type of CGI smorgus borge, involving aliens and old ancient ruins, where a Crystal Skull is put on a different alien corpse, allowing them to hypnotize people and then destroy the place with some of gravity-defying power that soon sends the entire cast up through a water well to watch a space ship launch. Except for the concluding epic CGI shot that was only kind of cool and the diner scene about thirty minutes into the film I don’t think I enjoyed any of this. For it to conclude on Mary and Indy’s wedding only reminded me how ridiculous her inclusion was - where in the middle of a South American jungle she just so happens to appear. And then in lightening fashion, the two look past the fact that Mary kept Mutt a secret and that they haven’t talked in over twenty years, suddenly rekindling their romance - where aside from how little sense that makes, leaves you wondering why they didn’t just get together sooner. I don’t know why this was made. I think if a fourth was made even in the 90s it could have better, as it couldn’t have relied entirely on artificial worlds. It left me disappointed and sad. While I was once excited for Chris Pratt’s possible revival of the role, if it’s told like this - and it likely will be - I’ll just stick to the originals. And it leaves me in disbelief. Relying on modern CGI is like buying a cool and expensive car that’s going to break in a few years versus a really cool and slightly more expensive car that could last forever. Films like this do not have a shelf life. Movies like the original trilogy have proven to last forever. BELOW: The last shot is infuriating Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  Everything looks fake (except the diner) Director: Steven Spielberg Writer: David Koepp; story by George Lucas and Jeff Nathanson; based on Characters by George Lucas Philip Kaufman Cinematographer: Janusz Kamiński Producer: Frank Marshall by Jon Cvack I had put on this film immediately after I finished The Last Crusade ('89). I hadn’t seen TLC in nearly a decade, and the film was even better than I remembered, epitomizing Spielberg’s ability to converge craft of highest order with popular storytelling. Having always heard Kingdom of the Crystal Skull was terrible and made close to zero sense, I took my time getting to this one; not wanting to tarnish the first trilogy. But with TLC giving me hope that Spielberg’s prowess would at least provide some mildly entertaining sequences, I figured I’d put this on and give it go. What I experienced was one of the most heartbreaking moments I’ve experienced with cinema - as this is not just Spielberg’s worst film, but one of the worst sequels ever made, making Lucas’ Eps. I-III feel like Lord of the Rings. This film serves as the antithesis of what Spielberg stands for - relying on a barrage of computer graphics for extraordinarily illogical sequences, and obvious throwback elements to help try and relieve these problems. While with the original trilogy we dealt with magic and religion, this round we’re introduced to aliens, in which Spielberg forfeits any insight into any interesting questions whatsoever in order to provide us with a gaudy CGI fest that only leaves you more upset for how much better Spielberg is when he abandons the practice. The story follows a Golden Yeared Indiana Jones, whose hair has gone gray, and whose aging body has forced him to slow down. We open in the middle of the desert near Area 51 as a caravan of Russian spies dress as American soldiers in order to invade a warehouse where a strongly magnetized box exists. It was from nearly the opening shot, when we see the two actual American soldiers ask the Soviet spies to forfeit their weapons, when Spielberg cuts to a shot of the commanding officer who then dips to a knee, revealing the half dozen spies with guns behind them, opening fire, as though the American soldiers wouldn’t have seen the strange formation these soldiers were taking while getting out of the cars. I always resent this type of logical forfeiture in order to try and accomplish a cool shot, which it isn’t is. As happens when you watch enough movies for a long enough time, I knew I was in for the long haul on this one. Indy is then revealed and so is the evil Irina Spaiko (Cate Blanchett) who’s one of the most boring villains ever created, adopting the stolid Russian personality placed within Mia Wallace’s body. I can’t tell you one unique thing Irina does or says, and given what I mentioned in my TLC essay, in which a fucking tank driver was able to become a memorable character, I couldn’t help getting annoyed and fast. Still, I figured maybe this was a slow burn and Spielberg would surprise us. We then enter the warehouse, using gunpowder to try and find a heavily magnetized package, where they throw it up into the air and follow the direction it drifts toward. Eventually they find the box, which contains an alien corpse, and then Indiana attempts to escape and we get our first taste of Spielberg’s dependence on CGI rather than expanding on what he has demonstrably done with highest quality three times before. Let me pause to state that the primary problem with CGI is that, and the reason I would rather watch old films than many of these VFX-diarrhea machines is because I know that it’s not real. I know that Irina is not really driving a jeep through this warehouse that suddenly is about two miles long, even though it’s supposed to be the warehouse from The Temple of Doom. Time and again we cut to these great wide shots, showing the tens of thousands of boxes, as the car speeds the aisle, while Indiana Jones literally sprints across narrow rafters up across the ceiling, using his whip to swing down onto Irina, who’s still driving. None of this is real. It doesn’t look real, it doesn’t feel real. It’s like a video game or cartoon, in which case I rather just pick up a video game or watch an animated film. I honestly cannot comprehend how filmmakers today still refuse to understand that part of the spectacle for action-adventure films - and what makes them so effective - is that what we’re seeing looks as though it’s actually happening. Time and again, all we get is as much CGI as they can cram into each and every shot, rendering the whole thing completely unbelievable. Case in point is The Last Crusade, where not once in the entire film was I pulled out because something didn’t look real - with maybe the exception of the blimp’s establishing shot, which looked more like a matte painting and not trying to be the coolest, most amazing complex shot of a blimp ever possibly conceived! The story transports you because we’re seeing Harrison Ford actually hanging from a gun turret cutting into a mountain, or his face being pushed into a tire tread, or an actual tank - even if a model - actually falling down the mountain. There is no magic to seeing an ornate CGI shot. I don’t imagine what the crew must have done to achieve it, or what the actor risked to perform it, or how the director decided to capture it. I just see a bunch of people in a room on their computers working complex software. BELOW: Somehow driving unimpeded through the middle of a jungle, and it only gets worse Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on the contact page  With an Irish brogue, Julianne Moore is the best part of the film Director: Lasse Hallström Writer:Robert Nelson Jacobs; based on the novel The Shipping News by Annie Proulx Cinematographer: Oliver Stapleton Producer: Rob Cowan, Leslie Holleran, and Irwin Winkler by Jon Cvack There was a movement between the late 90s and early 00s that provided such incredible mid-budgeted Domestic Dramas as In the Bedroom (‘01), You Can Count on Me (‘00), and The Ice Storm (‘97), typically taking place in small towns, featuring a broken family attempting to repair their severed or severing ties, with filmmakers like Ang Lee and Kenneth Lonergan going onto bigger and better things, and Todd Field looking to become one of the all time greats, though failing to provide another project since 2009’s Tom Perotta adaptation Little Children. I had never read the Pulitzer Price winning The Shipping News, but heard amazing things. Lasse Hallstrom directs the story, who provided the wonderful coming of age John Irving adaptation The Cider House Rules (‘99) only a couple years prior. The Shipping News is equally impressive in craft and photography, but the story seems far too large for its two hour running time, introducing so many characters and plots that by the end it races to catch up and resolve them, leaving you with far more questions than answers, making you want to read the book in order to fill in the blanks, knowing that some of the more fantastical elements simply failed to translate. The story stars Quoyle (Kevin Spacey) as a pathetically passive middle aged man who suddenly (within minutes) meets the trashy, though sexy Petal (Cate Blanchett), who declares within seconds that within a few hours she would fuck him. In a brilliant montage, we witness the rise and quick fall of their relationship, delivering a baby name Bunny (played by three actresses) along the way. Petal’s interest in Quoyle fades as fast it arrived, with her heading off to local dive bars and hooking up with whatever hunk of meat she happened to seduce, leaving you wondering what she saw in Quoyle to begin with, other than the obvious and easy exploitable man who could give her… something of which I’m not really sure. She takes off with one of the men, taking Bunny and selling her into sexual slavery (or as they call it a “Black Market Orphanage”). If things couldn’t get worse, Quoyle’s parents both kill themselves, though not before leaving a voicemail explaining their action and how disappointed they are in what Quoyle became. As things appear incapable of getting any bleaker, a long lost relative of Quolyle’s, Agnis Hamm (Judi Dench), shows up and invites him to start anew in Newfoundland. It’s around this point where the movie attempts to condense far too many characters and plots into the remaining 90 minutes, with Quoyle learning he’s descended from barbaric pirates who use to pillage ships and assault women; Hamm putting Quolyle and Bunny up in a rundown house that’s held up against the strong gales by thick cables; a love interest, Wavey Prowse (Julianne Moore), and her handicapped son; ghosts showing up at the house, and really pushing the limits of story by not really providing any clarity other than it’s not really a ghost, but a man who ties knots in ropes to help relieve a strange curse on the house; Quolyle’s job at a newspaper where he works with the film’s strongest cast, involving Pete Postlethwaite, Scott Glenn, and Rhys Ifans, with Scott Glenn’s character Jake Buggit drowning in a boating accident, laid down at a wake days later, where right as someone provides the final words, he coughs up water, alive, further pushing into the movie into nonsense; a brother who raped his sister Hamm, who she later killed; and even more absurdities that I’m leaving out. If I had only read the synopsis, I'd consider it a parody of the subgenre. What’s most disappointing is that, for all these elements, the moral of the story (the film version, that is) seems to be that you can’t escape your past, you can only change it, so try and change for the better. Or something. It’s a beautiful movie, and it left me wondering what ever happened to Lasse Hallstrom who, other than a few Nicholas Sparks adaptations and The Hoax ('06), hasn’t really made a movie I’ve heard of since. The camerawork and imagery are so strong, the performances fairly incredible, and yet it all added up into nothing much. Compared to The Cider House Rules or My Life as a Dog, both incredible coming of age stories, this left me hoping he’d return back to these smaller, more intimate dramas, rather than continuing the foray into colorful romance novels. It’s always a disappointment to see such incredible talent fall. BELOW: Spacey's character is too pathetic to be believable Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on our contact page  McConaughey in a role way ahead of his time; worth revisiting for his performance alone Director: Jonathan Mostow Writer: Jonathan Mostow, Sam Montgomery, and David Ayer Cinematographer: Oliver Wood Producer: Dino De Laurentiis and Martha De Laurentiis by Jon Cvack Continued from Part 1... Being away on location for a film shoot and confined to a bedroom with nothing other than my laptop, I watched the film with my studio headphones and had an absolute blast. Whatever you think about this story, the film has absolutely incredible sound design, going on to take the Oscar for Best Sound Editing. I’ve watched the movie many times, but it was only with headphones that I truly got to experience its glory, where you can hear every tiny squeak and breath which creates the highly claustrophobic atmosphere. The impact of Das Boot is abundantly clear, though falls far short of the Wolfgang’s masterpiece. Steadicams follow with the sailors as they race down the corridors, working their way between compartments, closing doors and opening them. Shot wide, there’s depth to the frame, with focus pulling between sweaty close ups, complementing each sound we hear as they are left ever wondering whether the next explosions will be the last. And it’s here that McConaughey really shines, as again, while during the last time I watched the film he was perceived as the Rom Com lead, now that I’ve seen him steal the show in Mud, Interstellar, and Dallas Buyers Club - I came with fresh eyes. His performance has such subtle nuances and flavors, as he attempts to maintain calmness, searching to make the right decisions within seconds, hoping it’s the right one. Opposite Harvey Keitel as Chief Gunner’s Mate Henry Klough, the pair’s dynamic is powerful. Klough’s honor demands that he abides by each order, knowing that it’s not about whether he agrees or not, so much that discipline's vital in maintaining the crew’s morale. Keitel finds such a delicate balance, in which we’re never really wondering why he’s never moved up to Captain. It’s clear that he doesn’t at all want the role, finding his greatest strength in building up and encouraging the men. Counter to his often bad boy persona, Keitel’s prowess makes it believable; serving as the type of mentor you’d want if enlisted, knowing he’s always acting in the best interest of the crew. It’s a film where once you accept the heavy embellishment, you can sit back and enjoy the show. This isn’t to be celebrated for his historical inaccuracies like Saving Private Ryan, When Trumpets Fade, or The Thin Red Line that’s trying to portray the horrors and realities of war. It’s a popcorn movie with big action scenes and excellent sound, kind of about duty and - if pressing just a tad - sacrifice. It’s the type of WWII film by the likes of Guns of Navarone or Where Eagles Dare, taking place beneath the water rather than on land. It’s not perfect, but it’s a fun one. And if you got headphones, it provides a nearly brand new viewing experience. Turn it up loud. BELOW: McConaughey shines as a WWII Submarine Captain action star Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on our contact page  I've seen this movie at least half a dozen times, had a bunch of discussions about the film ever since it came out, wrote this, and and still had no idea Jon Bon Jovi was in this film until today Director: Jonathan Mostow Writer: Jonathan Mostow, Sam Montgomery, and David Ayer Cinematographer: Oliver Wood Producer: Dino De Laurentiis and Martha De Laurentiis by Jon Cvack I’ve seen this movie more times than I can remember. It arrived amidst the WWII revival, as Saving Private Ryan kicked off the genre’s return, and films like Enemy At the Gates, Pearl Harbor, and When Trumpets Fade followed into the new millennium. It was ripped to pieces for its historical embellishment, with a former U-Boat Captain stating that the only thing this film and actual U-Boat histories have in common is that they both contain U-Boats. For the longest time I never really enjoyed it, thinking that by comparison to other WWII films it fell far short. I probably hadn’t seen it in over six or seven years since the last viewing, during which time Matthew McConaughey’s rose from Rom Com Stoner to a premiere talent. My perspective shifted, seeing McConaughey’s performance with fresh eyes as an energetic powerhouse, rather than a failed attempt by Hollywood’s Hottest. Perhaps it’s the endless crop of remake garbage that’s punching up these older films, as we realize perhaps, comparatively speaking, they weren’t all that bad; or perhaps their peers were so good, that the reverse equation made them play poorly. One thing I love about revisiting films I grew up with is their ability to shift your focus. While before I imagined serving as the lowly private, forced to make decisions without fully grasping the implications, now I empathized with Lt. Andrew Tyler’s (McConaughey) struggle with getting overlooked for promotion. He wants to command his own ship, and his Commanding Officer Mike Dahlgren (Bill Paxton) doesn’t think he’s ready. Given that I’m around Tyler’s age, the disappointment struck home - I’ve been rejected from jobs, promotions, raises, film festivals; where it all looked good and then crashed and burned. It was strange how I never even recalled this subplot, which is as classic as it gets in that the young and upcoming prodigy fails to get the opportunity he’s been waiting for, then finding himself suddenly facing the responsibility when disaster strikes. Dahlgren doesn’t think that Tyler’s ready to make the tough decisions a commander is responsible for; namely, the willingness to sacrifice lives when it’s for the greater good of the country or crew. As all of this is being discussed, they get word of a Top Secret mission, in which an American Submarine crew is to take over a German U-Boat in order to rescue the ailing crew which has a sophisticated encryption machine (as seen in the Medal of Honor video game series) that could turn the tides of war, if retrieved. The mission is led by the formidable Major Matthew Coonan, Navy Intelligence (James Gammon; who I just saw in Major League II, playing the most intimidating characters in both films). Tyler will act as Dahlgren’s 2nd in Command, leading the crew to the ship, where one of the lowly privates who speaks perfect German will help to work their way past the guards, kill the crew, and take the machine. Of course the mission goes wrong, as we’re left wondering why a Coonan thinks it’d be easier to train the entire submarine crew to engage in close quarters combat, rather than bringing aboard a small team of his own to execute the mission. They retrieve the encryption machine, but in the distance is a German Battleship that launches a torpedo toward the actual American U-Boat, killing most of the crew, including Dahlgren, who in a final farewell before sinking into the water, instructs Tyler to take charge, providing him with the coveted opportunity to command a ship. Of course the mission goes wrong, as we’re left wondering why Coonan thinks it’d be easier to train the entire submarine crew to engage in close quarters combat, rather than bringing aboard a small team of his own to execute the mission. They retrieve the encryption machine, but in the distance is a German Battleship that launches a torpedo toward the actual American U-Boat, killing most of the crew, including Dahlgren, who in a final farewell before sinking into the water, instructs Tyler to take charge, providing him with the coveted opportunity to command a ship. Continue on for Part 2... BELOW: Strap on some headphones for a taste of some Oscar-winning sound design Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on our contact page  Could have used another of this trio Director: Fred Schepisi Writer: Richard Russo (based off his book "Empire Falls") Cinematographer: Ian Baker by Jon Cvack Continued from Part 1... Although you expect that the factory eventually gets reopened or purchased, I wasn’t seeing the subtle comment Russo gives of the consequences, in which the increasing wealth drove riverfront properties through the roof, making you wonder what became of the area and its homely atmosphere. Being from Chicago and having gone to the more modest areas back when I lived there - Wisconsin Dells, New Buffalo, Koontz Lake (where my grandparents had a lake house), I’ve realized the rarity out here in California of keeping a beautiful small town affordable. My friend has brought us to Donner Lake near Lake Tahoe and to his hometown of Calistoga in Napa Valley and both have become victims of massive property value spikes. Their main drags aren’t filled with small town diners or general stores, but boutique fashion outlets, overpriced home furnishings stores, and expensive restaurants. There is nothing wrong with this, as that type of economy contains its own sense of intimacy and cuteness, but there is something for the latter, which out here in California, is getting taken over by an increasingly affluent population. I always wonder what happened to the towns I grew up visiting. I think about Wisconsin Dells, which for those who don’t know - or perhaps from what I recall - is essentially an entire town dedicated to kids, with numerous water parks, go-cart tracks, arcades, miniature golf courses, carnival rides, roller coasters, tons of gift shops, and so on. I’m sure if I visited Wisconsin Dells today it’d feel much different. As an adult I’d filter out most of the kid stuff, instead seeing the bars and restaurants. Whether it was still what I remembered or completely changed, I wonder how much I’d recognize as different versus the same and how close I’d be. There’s an association between this film and what I watched before finishing these thoughts - Summer of ‘42 - about the celebration of small town life and the way the mind can form such an idyllic place, creating roots based on either distorted fact or idealized memories. I feel fortunate to have had a great childhood, and it’s a strange moment when you realize that they will no longer return. Living at home with your parents, not having any say in what they did, but suddenly you’d wake up outside of a giant water park with not a care in the world is no longer something I'll have provided so much as provide. The real world is more fun in some ways, but like anything that’s over, and like memories altogether, we tend to idealize childhood and the places associated with it, sad they can never return. The thing is, as I attempt to piece Empire Falls and what it mean all together, I don’t really know what it results in. I’d like to say that if Empire Falls is a fading past memory then the people should leave. None of them do. Beyond all the personal conflicts and doubts, everyone remains in the town, with only Miles looking to actually do anything different - and that’s opening up a restaurant that can serve booze. I thought Miles was a great character and provided a fitting conclusion. Beyond him and his daughter, though - I don’t know what the point of what anyone else and what they learned actually was. It felt much too self-celebratory, as though borderline nationalistic, where no one’s welcome and no one can leave. Even when Miles went to college - the only one who ever left - he ended up returning before finishing up. I’m not sure what it means. I hate to even take it that far, as trying to deconstruct why it felt so near empty in the end, I was struggling. The memories people have of this town exist because people remain there to help keep create those memories, no matter what happens. They’ll adapt in any way they must to move forward, whether a new restaurant, or getting together with an alleged gym owner and dropping him when discovering there’s no money. And yet they all stay there, as though it’s the only place they know how to survive in. It’s a good film, with a great cast, and when you start unraveling what it all means it takes you for a pretty interesting ride. BELOW: Still slim pickings on YouTube, so here's a TV spot that shows some of the cast Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on our contact page  In the film for about twenty minutes and Phil Hoffman steals the film Director: Fred Schepisi Writer: Richard Russo (based off his book "Empire Falls") Cinematographer: Ian Baker by Jon Cvack Here’s a film I recall seeing in high school when it was first released, never checking out again until over a decade later. It’s always strange watching a film where the characters shift from where you once were. When first seeing it I connected to the high schoolers and their sense of small town alienation. Now, I found myself engaging with the adults, who were attempting to navigate the town’s politics and secure a decent life The story involves a small town, heavily controlled by a wealthy widow Francine Whiting (Joanne Woodward) who made most of her money from the town’s factories, but when the factories were shifted overseas, Empire Falls plateaued and never seemed to have progressed much further since. It’s a Domestic Drama as often seen during the 00s - with films such as In the Bedroom, The Ice Storm, Little Children, and others. It contains cheerful music that perfectly captures the small town relationships, and while shot with a very made-for-tv feel at points, the rich cast allows us to forget about the lacking style, forcing us to focus on the people rather than how they’re portrayed. While called a miniseries, being only two episodes, the story is very much a four hour film. Empire Falls is the type of place you’d love to go if you never really wanted much else. It’s the town for those who want to find a comfortable and secure life, protected by a community of people who all wish for the same. The primary character is cook Miles Roby (Ed Harris), who’s at the center of the town’s relatively “dark” secret in that his mother Grace (Robin Wright Penn) had an affair with Charlie Mayne, who I’m not entirely certain, but might have been Francine Whiting’s lover or husband (in one of the first times I’ve ever noticed, the WikiPedia Empire Falls page doesn’t offer a full story breakdown, so much as a suggestive synopsis, and even stranger, the synopsis is identical on both the miniseries and book page, leaving me wondering if author Richard Russo or his marketers have edited this, as it’s really difficult to find out who exactly this person is, and frustrating when I don’t think it’s that interesting given what I’m gathering). So rolling with Grace’s mom having an affair with Francine’s husband or lover, this has forced a tension between her and Miles, somehow having forced Miles to maintain the diner - again for reasons I don’t entirely understand, but believe involved Charlie Mayne helping Grace much to the disagreement of Francine. What I always loved about this sequence, other than Philip Seymour Hoffman playing Charlie Mayne (which is incredible, even with his half dozen lines) is that even when I first saw it in high school I was confused, though vaguely understood the suggestion. Russo paints a fascinating portrait of a kid who didn’t entirely understand the relationship going on around him, as older Miles begins to piece it together. I do wonder if in the book there was a more heated moment between Francine and Miles, as Miles perhaps lied or in some way defended his mother, leading Francine to force him out of college (or was this on his own volition?). Although I think Miles put together the situation long before, the timing is coincidentally right in enlightening him to sell of the diner, and go into business with his ex-mother-in-law Bea (Estelle Parsons), whose daughter is the gorgeous and vain soccer mom Janine Roby (Helen Hunt) who’s about to marry the allegedly wealthy gym owner Walt Comeau (played brilliantly by Dennis Farina). They had a falling out for reasons that aren’t interesting, but also had a daughter Christina (Danielle Panabaker), who just broke up with the school jock, and has befriended a socially and emotionally disturbed near-homeless boy John Voss (Lou Taylor Pucci). All of this kind of gets a bit old at points, in which the film’s problem is exactly what the book would likely solve in that, with only about four hours, we don’t get enough time with any of the characters (the book’s near 500 pages). It’s not that I don’t care, so much as it sometimes finds itself much too cute, such as the subplot between Miles and the Church, as he can’t climb a ladder because he’s scared of heights. There are a handful of these subplots scattered about, some better than others, such as Miles feud with Christina’s ex-boyfriend and his old friend, now police officer Jimmy Minty (William Fichtner, who I love to watch and has really gotten back to the type of stuff he did from the 90s to mid-00s). It’s a fascinating conflict to observe, as it’s often what’s not said that drives them deeper into feud, especially with Ed Harris playing opposite. None of these become all that distracting, so much as leaving less room for the juicier material, or even better, to provide more information, rather than forcing us to wonder what exactly happened. For a movie that felt so accessible in its majority, many of the answers necessary to plug things up felt needlessly complicated. Continued on in Part 2... BELOW: Slim pickings on YouTube, so here's Paul Newman as a dirty old man Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on our contact pa  Still convinced Michael Pitt will become one of the all time greats Director: Michael Haneke Writer: Michael Haneke Cinematographer: Darius Khondji by Jon Cvack Continued from Part 1... Haneke is a serious film lover’s filmmaker, in that I don’t think the average person or even novice film lover would necessarily understand or enjoy him. I remember hearing nothing but praise when Cache came out, and when I finally watched it, being the first or so Haneke film I had seen, I didn’t get it. It wasn’t bad. Haneke’s style is slow. There is very little editing and the camera doesn’t move, which for the first few films is uncomfortable. He portrays his characters with such intimacy that it’s as though you’re a voyeur. Or maybe you’re just bored. Sometimes I’m not sure which. It was with 71 Fragments that I finally felt comfortable with his style, expecting it, and then his ideas began to wash over me. In one of the earlier scenes, as the boys are introduced and in the most cinematic way possible, Haneke suggests what occurred and it’s terrifying. We hear a barking dog, never seeing it. Later Paul arrives, sees an expensive pair of golf clubs and requests to hit a golf ball, goes and then kills the dog - all without us seeing the dog, or any blood or bit of carnage. When the kid is finally shot it creates a moment that is completely empty. Haneke locks the camera down, we see the kid dead on the ground, his blood all over the wall and television, with the television playing a NASCAR race and with Anna tied up, trying to break free, then trying to stand, then finding her husband, who we think might be dead, but who was overwhelmed with emotion, on the ground, and he can’t stand because his leg is broken, shooting pain into his body like he’s never experienced (as Tim Roth expertly displays), and they have to keep trying to break free or die. It was at this moment that I decided to turn the movie off, only after this unbearably long take ended, which is much longer than you can nearly bear. I was left feeling all the more weird watching this film late at night, alone, with all the lights off in my apartment. I finished the film the next morning as the sun shined bright and offered some needed foil against the macabre. After the long take, Peter and Paul have apparently left. We know they’re coming back, but as with the entirety of the film we keep thinking "what if?". Then when George is killed, I found myself retaining hope that would Anna would escape, and in one of the film’s most frightening scenes, as Peter and Paul take a tied up Anna onto a boat - frightening for the reason that I found myself completely dejected, no longer really caring if Anna escaped so much as hoping the film would just end - that she’s pushed off, left to drown and die in one of the worst ways imaginable. Peter and Paul then turn the boat around, heading to the next house to start up yet another funny game. It’s the type of film where you don’t even care to read into what it’s exploring. There are ideas about white suburban escapism, which has veered toward alienation, demonstrated in that although all the neighbors seems to know and like each other, they are spread so far apart that it’s impossible for them to even fathom someone coming by to help. We watch as these seaside homes, painted in their classic uniform blues, grays, and whites, take on a sterile appearance. We gather that they’re rarely visited except for a few weeks out of the year, left vacant for the rest, taking up space that could be used by those in need, and thus Peter and Paul are acting toward an equilibrium. In such a violent world, it’s wrong for these families to live such isolated and safe lives. Peter and Paul do not have a reason to kill. We gather their worldview was shaped by the media they consumed, as they offer reference after reference, even calling each Beavis and Butthead, turning on a NASCAR race while on the verge of slaughtering the family. They are completely removed from the situation, observing it as no different than the television they consume, deciding to act in a way that would ensure their own survival. You can easily extend the narrative and see the media soaring having a field day (should they ever be caught), and the movie version one day arriving. I recall Hitchcock’s Rope and the story of students Leopold and Loeb inspiring the film. Though never mentioned, Peter and Paul know that they will live in infamy and it’s better than never being remembered at all. And yet I feel guilty for even considering these ideas or others I’ve read, as their actions are so terrifying and their apathy so extreme, that to even contemplate an iota of justification behind these actions produces nausea. Haneke’s ability to say so much about the characters with so little, with a ripe tension between Anna and George (with George possessing some form of depression or melancholy), all with a kid that was so excited to simply sail with his dad, all without a single word made it all the more terrifying. They had their own problems and issues, never contemplating murder or death. They were simply trying to exist and were murdered in the most brutal way possible. I recall Haneke mentioning how he thought Spielberg’s way of shooting the showers in Schindler’s List was despicable because it turned genocide into entertainment. I’m not sure what Haneke is doing here. It’s interesting to think about and take apart, but in the end I don’t think I’ll ever revisit this film all the way through. I don’t know what it’s trying to tell me or warn me about that warranted such terrifying images. It’s one thing for a horror film to show this. I think The Strangers and The Purge are excellent films in the genre. In the hands of a master, though, the images are no longer about shock. They are meant to explore and convey ideas. They have something to say. Not knowing what that is in this film leaves me feeling empty and emotionally drained. Wondering what it all meant to the man who made it and why these images were the best way to accomplish that; not with just one film, but two. BELOW: Be kind please rewind Please report any spelling, grammar, or factual errors or corrections on our contact page |
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