Falling Down

  Falling Down.....

  Michael Fassenbender                           Brandon

  Carey Mulligan                                       Sissy

  Written and Directed By Steve McQueen
 
  I'm going to temper the enthusiasm for writer director Steve McQueen's addiction drama "Shame."  It's a GOOD film but not a GREAT film.  Let me try and paint you a picture so you know where I'm coming from here.  Like some indie films, Shame suffers from a case of ham handed symbolism for starters.  See Brandon (Michael Fassenbender) wake up ala lady Godiva.  Hear a voice on the answering machine begging for a connection.  See Brandon erase the message.  I'm fine with symbolism but it gets a bit heavy handed after this sequence is repeated at least ten times during the first fifteen minutes of the film.  I haven't seen Michael Fassenbender and Steve McQueen in their first film together, "Hunger," but I hope that that film isn't as ham handed as Shame is at certain intervals.  Someone argued that one of my indie darlings, Darren Aronofsky is guilt of the very same symbolism overkill that I'm taking writer director Steve McQueen to task for.  I'm guilty, to a point.  Aronofskys' symbolism can be heavy handed but it never becomes an all out assault on the IQ of the film goer.  There is a sequence where Brandons' sister Cissy, (Carey Mulligan) a singer by trade, is framed in an extended close up while performing on stage in front of her brother, Brandon.  This is another example of what I'm talking about with the ham handed symbolism here.  The context of the sequence is established rather quickly.  You can pretty much tell what the sequence represents when Cissy belts out the first line.  If McQueen is going to join the elite writer directors club, he needs to trust his audience a bit more.

What Shame also loses points for is a plot point involving the oblivious best pal who has to wear blinders for the plot to work its way forward.  In this case, the underwhelming role goes to Brandon's boss and best friend in the film.  Naturally, he plays deaf dumb and blind when his friends' work computer comes back from a service scan with pornography all over its hard drive.  This being said, there's nothing in Shame that we haven't seen about addiction before.   We have the addict who seems in control.  We have the addict losing control in the last act.  And of course, we have the hellish meltdown.  Personally, I think Mike Figgis handled these waters a tad bit better with his film Leaving Las Vegas.  In Ben, there's a natural unforced slide towards oblivion.  When Brandon has his free fall, it feels like a plot point being ticked off on the old screenplay checklist.  Perhaps it's because writer director Steve McQueen spends so much time hammering home the fact that Brandon is not what he appears to be; that his sense of control is merely an illusion that will be exposed in due time.  Let's face it, Brandons' fate is rather transparent in some respects.

  Plot:  Brandon (Michael Fassenbender) is a seemingly normal up scale New Yorker.  He has the killer place, the nice job.  But looking beneath the surface, Brandon is a sex addict who is incapable of intimacy and or emotional connection.  Brandon masks his compulsions as he best he can but eventually they hit the surface of his seemingly ideal life in a rather alarming way.  Complicating matters is the appearance of Brandons' sister Cissy (Carey Mulligan.)  She is everything that Brandon isn't.  That is to say, comfortable with her sexuality almost to a fault.  Brandon doesn't really want her around but he reluctantly agrees to take her in when she has no place to go.  I'll stop there, you can decipher the rest of the plot on your own

  Don't get me wrong, Shame does a lot of things well.  I thought that the ambiguousness of the ending was refreshing.  Instead of answering the ultimate question about Brandon's fate, writer director Steve McQueen allows us to fill in the blanks for ourselves.  To assign a set ending to this film would be a cheat, in light of the fact that this film is about an addict.  With addiction, there are no promises and no guarantees.  With this in mind, the last sequence in the film is
both simple and poignant.

   I actually saw Shame a second time.  I wanted to see if an additional viewing could change my mind regarding Michael Fassenbenders front runner status for the best actor statue.  My  feelings are still the same.  George Clooney has the more difficult role in The Descendants and it's his Oscar to win.  Fassenbender turns in good work as the doomed addict but the Brandon role doesn't seem all that complex.  Clooney has to shift gears many times and he has to make sure that his character, disconnected as he is, relates to the audience.  To me, Fassenbender's performance seems like merely like a one noter.  Ask yourself this.  If Fassenbender misses the mark, does Shame suffer all that much?  No, because it's a material driven film.  Fassenbenders' performance is mere gravy, in my view.  Shame can survive without him.  I'm going three stars here, four would be a stretch.  The opening act is slow and peppered with filler.  IE, a rather un necessarily comic sequence involving an over eager waiter.  To writer director Steve McQueen, I say again.; say what needs to be said and move on.  Still, Shame shows signs of life when the best friend/boss character is ditched.  When Brandon and Cissy are left to their own devices without that extraneous plot point involving Brandons'  pal and boss, the film becomes almost everything that I thought it would be.  During the middle acts of the film, we are treated to a fascinating character snapshot of both Cissy and Brandon.  It's amazing to discover how two siblings can be such opposites.  This, in spite of the fact that their pain, though manifested differently, virtually comes from the same place.  It's to bad that the first act ruins everything  That and the symbolism issue that I've referenced more than a few times.  To me, the frantic phone calls from Cissy aren't needed to set up the point where Brandon finally hits bottom.  McQueen has that already, in the hotel room.  That shot of Brandons' face tells you all need to know.be

  I wonder if any other sports town is as meatball heavy as Chicago is.  I wonder if the meatballs
ascended on Red Sox nation when the beloved Carmines started winning championships and
the old rat trap on Yawkey Way became a virtual cash cow.  What is it about success
that brings out the sports stupid and the seen to be seen bandwagon jumpers?  I must
confess, even the resurrection of the beloved Blackhawk is bittersweet.  See a meatball
standing up during a tight game in the third period to get their umpteenth alcoholic beverage
of the night.  See a meatball screaming at Duncan Keith to shoot the puck when the
defense doesn't provide a clear line in which to shoot said puck during a power play.
Is this what success brings?  Does it curse every fan base with the sports stupid and the
sports oblivious?  But what about the Cub?  They haven't won anything in a century and
a half and their fan base is practically the starting point of both the sports meatball and
the oblivious celebrity and non celebrity meatball.  So what happens if Theo Epstein wins
the baseball grail and ends the curse?  I know ticket prices will go up and the
culture of pure baseball fans will be swallowed up by the very commercialism
and high browness that is a staple of both Bulls and Hawks game at the
United Center now.  So what does an ordinary fan do if he or she simply
wants to watch a game without some corporate Johnny Come Lately
clapping for a meaningless dinger or yelling Let's Go Hawks when the Hawks
are in complete control of a game.  Do we sports purists try to accept
the meatballs for what they are?  What happens when our Cubs become
a consistent winner and we are outnumbered by them in some Custer
like scenario?  My god, they're even out in Rosemont at the Wolves games.
Some guy was yelling for Darren Haydar to shoot the puck.  They're
everywhere folks.  They're like a plague that's lurking about.  I wonder
if this is a regional problem or just akin to Chicago?  Will the basketball
meatballs show up and take over Staples if the Clipper become good?
Will Mark Jackson unknowingly release the corporate
meatball army if he turns around the Golden State Warrior.?  Are
there meatballs at MSG and has the take over began in Knickland?
Is Spike Lee safe?  Is Jack Nicholson safe?

Descending.... Into Greatness....

    I read Roger Eberts review of Cameron Crowe's "We Brought A Zoo"
and  he was thinking out loud as to why The Descendants works better
than that particular film.  I think I can answer that.  The Descendants isn't
looking for easy answers.   That's been the problem with Cameron Crowe
since Say Anything, the fact his films always want to wrap up everything
with a pretty little bow.  Crowe's films are too tidy for my money.  Then there's
writer director Alexander Payne and his film, The Descendants.  Like his
brilliant film Sideways, The Descendants is to smart and to self aware to simply
be just another tidy melodrama.  In the hands of a lesser writer/director
The Descendants would've become yet another sappy melodrama.  What
I like about The Descendants is the fact that there are no good people and no
bad people.  What writer director Alexander Payne has given us is a strong
collection of fully dimensional characters who are all victims of their own
hang ups and or indiscretions.  This is a wonderful film that has no interest
in taking sides.  No, Alexander Payne's screenplay is fascinated with the where's
and the why's of love gone astray, of people in love suddenly becoming parallel to
one another.  It's easy to assign the Clooney character a white hat as the long suffering
husband.  It's easy to cast Matt's wife, Elizabeth, (Elizabeth Banks) as the heavy
and the source of Matt's woe.  This is a film that is fascinated as to how its characters
ended up where they are.  In my view, this makes The Descendants
one of the best films of the year.  That and the performance of George Clooney
as bewildered family man Matt King.  People are talking up Micheal Fassenbender
for best actor for Shame but I truly believe that Clooney deserves the honor and I'll tell
you why.  Clooney has a much more complex role.  Matt King is passive, Matt is
a man who enjoys living his assigned role.  It is Matt's passive nature that makes
him blind to his surroundings.  I know what you're thinking; this character
can't possibly win the audience over.  In Clooney's hands though, there is so much
access and so much strength within this character.  It is Clooney's calmness and grace
that allows the audience to stick with Matt,  flawed as he may be.  There's a humanity
to Clooney's  performance that is both fascinating and almost effortless.  Think about this.
If Clooney fails, the movie fails along with him.  If anything, Clooney's performance in
The Descendants proves that he's an actor of immense talent when he's not playing politics
to the point of distraction.  I can see why writer/director Alexander Payne chose him for
this role.  Payne likes his actors to say everything without saying anything at all; see
Paul Giamatti's crash and burn towards the end of Sideways.  I love the moment when
Matt confronts his wife's lover, (Matthew Lilliard.)   Matt is finally ready to release all
the venom within him, he's ready to strike out.  And then, with one nugget of dialogue,
there is a rather profound moment of clarity in which Matt unexpectedly discovers something
about his wife.  I read one review where someone criticized the screenplay for not
having Matt thunder away at the Lilliard character after the fact.  To this reviewer, I say
this.  You missed the point completely.  That moment between Clooney and Lilliard
isn't about anger.  It's about revelation and clarity and self discovery.  How can Matt
hate his wife after he makes this discovery, however unintended?  He can't.
In that moment, everything is illuminated for both Matt and the audience.

  Plot:  Matt King (George Clooney) has just found out that his wife, who was about
to divorce him, is brain dead after a boating accident.  Not only does Matt have
to break the news to his kids about their mothers impending death, he has to weigh
the pros and cons of a lucrative land deal that could net he and his extended
family millions.  As Matt discovers the exact root of his wife's infidelity
and the circumstances behind it, he decides to take a long look at his life
and the choices that he's made.  I'll stop there, you can decipher the rest of the
plot on your own.

  I've been throwing roses at Clooney but I think most of the cast of The Descendants
deserves praise.   You can start with Robert Forester, who plays Matt's father in
law.  This is another role that can turn one dimensional in the hands of a lesser actor.
Thankfully, Forester brings a semblance of humanity to a role that is mostly
repressed venom lingering beneath the surface.  More props go out to Beau Bridges
as uncle LU.  Bridges' character looks a like beach bum but he is anything but.
Watch the way he talks to Matt when Matt seeks out his counsel.  Thanks
to Bridges, good Uncle Lu becomes a multifaceted character who is so good
at playing coy and so good at saying one thing while meaning another. 
But the biggest kudos of all go to writer director Alexander Payne.
Payne's screenplay shines with heart and authenticity.  I love the scenes in the
hospital room; the awkwardness, the swirling of emotions, the unleashing,
however unintentional, of old gripes and hurts and misunderstandings.  Like I said
before, writer director Alexander Payne isn't looking to put a ribbon on things. 
He's looking for the where's and the why's.  Payne is looking for answers
far below the surface.  Do yourself a favor.  Spend the price of a ticket on
The Descendants  Don't pay for mass market schmaltz like "We Bought A Zoo."
Don't see a studio movie.  Trust me, you'll thank me later.

 

Shadowed By Excess

  Robert Downey Junior                        Sherlock Holmes

  Jude Law                                            Dr. John Watson

  Jared Harris                                        Moriarty

  Directed By Guy Ritchie.  Written by Kieran Mulroney.

    Your overall enjoyment of Sherlock Holmes: A Game Of Shadows depends on
your answer to the following questions?  Are you immune to Hollywood excess? 
Do you mind it when an absolutely extraordinary sequence between two gifted actors,
Robert Downey Junior (Holmes) and Jared Harris (Moriarty) is suddenly peppered
with bombastic slo mo and inane inner dialogue.  If you've answered yes to these questions,
then you will probably enjoy the second film in the newly rebooted Sherlock Holmes series
a bit more than I did.  See, I'm old fashioned.  I hate it when an actor of
Robert Downey Juniors stature is given nothing better to do than quip and preen. 

  I take that back.  As Holmes,  Downey gets to do what every other action does;
become a virtual clairvoyant when the plot requires him to.  As Watson, Holmes friend
and long suffering sidekick, Jude Law is also wasted in Kieran Mulroneys gag infested
screenplay.  I'm all for a little comic relief  and some banter between Holmes and Watson
but in both films, it feels like nothing more than lowbrow filler.  Again, I'm all for banter;
except when it takes away screen time from such a gifted actor like Jared Harris.
After a great bit of by play in which Moriarty threatens Holmes without actually
threatening him, the screenplay takes a detour into excess and sight gags.  Like the
first film, the story for Game Of Shadows seems to wander about until it's time for the
next round of  quipping and or special effects laden excess.

  For my money, I'd rather have more by play between Holmes and Moriarty than a
laborious sequence in which Holmes and Watson hide out among gypsies after Moriarty
makes a threat against Watson's life.  See Sherlock riding a gelding, see Watson doing a
Gypsy dance.  It has to be one or the other.  Either give me a lean script with a cohesive
story or tone down the excess.  Glossy is fine, to a point.  Glossy AND aimless....
not so much.

  Plot:  When we meet Sherlock Holmes again, he is preparing for the wedding of his
best friend, John Watson (Jude Law.)  This effects Holmes greatly, as he fears the loss
of his running mate and right hand man.  Holmes doesn't have long to stew though.
You see, his nemesis, Moriarty (Jared Harris) has entered the picture again and Holmes
believes that he is behind a series of terrorists acts in London.  Naturally, Holmes and
a reluctant Watson spring into action to stop Moriarty before he can unleash an
even more lethal form of mayhem.  I'll stop there, you can decipher the rest of the plot
on your own.

  I'm disappointed that producer Joel Silver and director Guy Ritchie didn't learn from
Peter Guber and his failed experiment in cinematic excess called The Wild Wild West.
Like that film, the second chapter of Sherlock Holmes simply doesn't know when to quit.
Wild Wild West was set in the Civil War era and featured motorized tarantulas and
sleep inducing poolballs.  Sherlock Holmes is supposedly set in 1891 and has
machine guns that aren't supposed to look like modern machines even thought
they ARE machine guns.

  Look, we all know that director Guy Ritchie and producer Joel Silver aren't trying
to recreate the hero that Arthur Conan Doyle originally conceived.  That being said,
why not take Holmes out of 1891.  You change the setting, then the issue of plausibility
becomes moot.  I reiterate, I was disappointed with this film, so naturally, the issues
of plausibility and excess bothered me more than usual.  Still and all though,
I didn't walk out of the theater grumbling,  However brain dead this film is,
Sherlock Holmes: A Game Of Shadows does have its moments.  There is a nice
swashbuckling sequence where Holmes chases a would be assassin through a
casino hall and as stated earlier, there is some wonderful by play between
Holmes and Moriarty.  Jared Harris should send a clip of his performance to
all actors who want to play the heavy.  If Harris proves anything, he proves that
an actor with skills can be menacing without strangling the dialogue or
emoting themselves into oblivion; see Kenneth Branagh in Wild Wild West.

  Keep your eye on  the scene I referenced earlier, when Holmes tells Moriarty
that he knows he's behind the bombings.  Watch how Harris delivers the volley
before Holmes walks away.  Harris plays the dialogue like a mere exercise but the
impact is extraordinary.  If only Sherlock Holmes had given me a little bit more wit
to go along with all of those silly motion capture shots of bullets floating in mid air
and guns being reloaded.  Alas, substance and brain power doesn't sell tickets
these days.