"The Trip to Italy" Proves that Sometimes It's About the Destination & Not the Journey

UK actors Steve Coogan and Rob Brydon are in Italy eating their first meal of the trip. They're going on a Italian restaurant tour for The Observer, which they did four years previously in Northern England. Coogan talks about how he's surprised that The Observer wanted them to do this again, despite the good reviews of the first article they wrote about their previous trip. He notes that sequels are never as good as their predecessor, except for The Godfather: Part 2, which they both agree is the exception.

And so begins the sequel to the very meta, post-modern The Trip. The Trip to Italy features, again, Coogan and Brydon, playing themselves, albeit exaggerated and altered versions of themselves. The sequel is very much in the same spirit as the first. They travel to restaurants and hotels, eat food, and discuss life, celebrity, and the craft of acting. It's like My Dinner with Andre, but with discussions about the appreciation for Alanis Morissette and Michael Buble.

We see a little growth change in the characters since the last film. Coogan has decided that he he'd rather spend more time near his son and cancel work on his TV show to do so. Gaining fame and glory is no longer a priority. Brydon, on the other hand, who was the solid family man before, promises to be a more frisky tom cat this time around due to being out of the country where his notoriety is less distinct. It turns out that his relationship with his wife has turned cold since they've started raising their child. This sort of characterization is surprising and much needed, as they act as foils to each other, but the roles are reversed this time around.

The change of scenery is much need, too. It is absolutely beautiful. James Clarke, the cinematographer, framed and lit everything gorgeously, and to the often looked over but completely necessary location scout who picked the greatest beach locales in Italy. Not only did the setting prove to be breathtaking, but it played into the boys (I will call them "boys") conversation of artistry and death. The loose connection between all of the stops was Lord Bryon, whose debaucherous lifestyle is both admirable and cautionary. There are many motifs of the afterlife, causing the two to contemplate, causing obvious middle aged panic. A visit to the site of Pompeii not only signals a time of reflection, but results in Brydon doing his "Man in a Box" routine (and it's probably the most hilarious segment of the movie.)

The problem with The Trip to Italy is that these gags and scene go on way to long. Most of the movie is extended pop culture imitations that turn into a pissing contest between the two. They rehash their Michael Caine and their James Bond; it was all cute the first time, but this was redundant. I was bored for the first for the first half hour because it was just a repeat. They end up switching it up throughout the movie with some Robert Di Nero and Al Pacino, but I was fatigued by the end. I know that I can chalk it up to not being exactly my sense of humor, but these impersonation tirades are comparable two friends who won't let a good joke die.

The sequel was totally made for the big fans of the first, but it's a lost cause for those who opposed The Trip, or even those who kind of enjoyed the original. The spices are slightly different, but the dish is the same. It's a shame because there is an obvious self-awareness in this series. I just wish the creators could push that keen perception outwards and look through the audience's eyes. If only they followed Coogan's advice from the start and saw the folly in doing a followup.

"Boyhood" is an Epic, Slow Burning Look at Growing Up

While high school senior Mason (Ellar Coltrane) is developing his personal photographs in his high school's dark room, his photography teacher comes in and doesn't just tell him to get his ass back in class, but lectures Mason on the importance of responsibility, growing up, and passion. "Who do you want to be, Mason? What do you want to do?," he asks. When Mason says he wants to spend his life being a photographer, his teacher ultimately says that that's not gonna cut it.

Richard Linklater's Boyhood features many scenes like this. It makes sense, as the film is about growing up, and it may be the most extreme look at growth spurts, acne, personality change, and the apparent hypocrisy of adults. For those of you living under a rock, Boyhood took twelve years to make because the filmmakers got together every year to revisit Mason and his family. In the course of a little under three hours, we see Coltrane develop from a kid to a young man heading out to college. There are some recurring characters, but the four that we show up in every chapter is Mason; Mason's mom, Olivia (Paticia Arquette); Mason's sister, Samantha (Lorelei Linklater); and Mason Sr. (Ethan Hawke). Throughout the movie, Mason moves through various towns, gets readjusted through various schools while his parents (they're separated, by the way) change careers and relationships.  

The changes in the film are surprisingly drastic at time, and the editing in the film is clever and signifies the passing of time. Short hair becomes shaggy hair, and there is one humorous cut where it seems like Mason has doubled in height. It brings back memories of awkward phases, and while I didn't relate to Mason so much, I felt sentimental of the growing process.

The creators pepper in pop culture to help set the movie in the appropriate year that both makes me feel joyful of the being transported to that time, and also old. "Umbrella" is playing in the background while the characters are at a bowling alley; Mason and his friends debate as to whether Yoda or General Grievous would win in a fight; Samantha watches the latest Lady Gaga video on her phone. The use of these cues are smart, because when you get out of high school, years just seem to meld together, yet we have time stamps in our heads that help us find our footing in our memories.

I wish that some of this wit also translated more into the dialogue and characters. I say this with a grain of salt because what we're dealing with here is teenage boys, and let's face it, teenage boys are dumb. I know, I was one. I was also a gay teenage boy, so I can say that I was not guilty of a lot of the drivel that I heard in grade school and in Boyhood. I think that's some of the point. This "talking shit" discourse is sadly part of male adolescence. I'll blame society, but I won't be too preachy.

The acting is questionable at times, too (I'm looking at you, Patricia Arquette.) She talks like she has a question mark stuck in the back of her throat. It kind of works because Olivia is a character who doesn't know exactly what she wants, and when she thinks she has some clarity, it backfires in her face. She is the greatest example of adults that don't have all of the answers, which is one of the film's greatest themes.

Mason is also kind of a blank character. He's not a Harry Potter, who ultimately dictates the series of actions and reactions in his life. Mason, like most children, just has to stay steady like a rock while the parents control the realty around them, whether these are good or bad decisions. This may not result in an interesting character study for some, but I enjoy the creators' honesty in the portrayal. Mason is also very much an observer in the film. He doesn't say or do much for most of the film, but his growing interest in photography and his contemplative nature shown in his late teens is logical.

Boyhood does present an easy, smooth, and subtle transformation in the characters, which I applaud the creators in doing. It would be easy to present Mason as joyful kid, then an obnoxious tween, then a rebellious teen. The whole set up of the film may seem like a lot hype, but when you have the same actors playing the same character over many years, not only do you have an epic story, but you have truthful transitions. Many people, myself included, are the same person as when we were six, only more emotionally and intellectually knowledgeable, and it's hard to capture that fact when you have multiple actors playing the same characters.     

Boyhood isn't as successful as Linkleter's other time-shifting films, his Before trilogy, which were two magical romance stories and then an aversion to them. It has been advertised as being the greatest exhibit of growing up, but it's a little to ordinary to capture that title. That is not to say that Boyhood isn't important. In the most acute way, it's drawn from the Youtube videos of people taking a picture of themselves everyday for a fixed set of time. Boyhood satisfies our need for nostalgia and narcissism, and thanks to digital filming, may be the first in a new wave of coming-of-age presentation.  

"Life Itself" Proves That You Can't Take Roger Ebert Out of the Movies

When recalling the value and importance Roger Ebert had to him for the memoir Life Itself, director Martin Scorsese instantly begins to choke up. He describes a time shortly after creating Taxi Driver where he heavily abused alcohol and cocaine. He was in a depressive state with suicidal thoughts. When Scorsese was at the lowest of the lows, he was presented a special tribute award for his years as a filmmaker by Ebert at a Toronto film festival. Scorsese's life took a turn at that point. Not only was he honored, but he was reinvigorated. "That night changed it, and it started my life again," he says, holding back the tears behind his trademark thick-rimmed glasses.

A moment like that was part of Ebert's mission. He wanted to raise awareness and champion the big, little and hidden treasures in film, and god dammit, he had opinions as to who these shiny jewels were. The director of Life Itself, Steve James, was driven by the force of Ebert. Looking back at Roger Ebert archives, he gave all of the films James directed at least a three out of four star, and even gave a perfect four to his film Hoop Dreams. It is safe to assume that Ebert and James became friends, as Ebert allowed James to document the last couple of months of his life after fighting through thyroid cancer, which caused the removal of his lower jaw, and a fractured hip. But Ebert wasn't just going to let someone have complete control of his portrayal. He tells James, "This isn't just your film," when the two argue as to what they should show. 

It is hard to tell whose voice we are hearing from in the documentary. There are direct excerpts from Ebert's autobiography, where the movie got its title, but it's hard to tell whose making the decisions. In the wake of Ebert's death, it seems that James didn't want to add anything that Ebert didn't already approve of, besides the interviews from friends, family, and colleagues. At times, it falls into a flat, almost uninspired, typical documentary fashion. There isn't any pop, which I was surprised by, since Ebert was someone who campaigned for creative and unique narrative forms. There is definitely humor in it, because Ebert was a humorous guy, but the humor comes from the characters, and not the filmmakers.

It was probably hard for James to finish the film. He wouldn't want to present a film with too distinct of a cinematic voice, but instead decided to present Ebert's voice. Also, there are difficulties to please someone whose approval carried as much weight as Roger Ebert's; Steve was probably scared to have Ebert rolling around in his grave.  

The film shows how Ebert's opinions affected his personal life, most notably with his fellow At the Movies co-star, Gene Siskel. The two were complete opposites, and half of the film focuses on their relationship. Many people watched At the Movies just to watch two film nerds verbally fight on camera about the artistic value of the new Lassie movie, and the film doesn't skimp on showing those interactions. This relationship turned out to be one of the most influential for the two despite both not wanting it to begin in the first place.    

Siskel's death due to a brain tumor, which he kept hidden from everyone beside his immediate family, shook Ebert. After this event, he dedicated to never keep secrets like that from his loved one and the public, and it's why we have this film. A lot of the film will be a repeat due to Ebert's candid nature during interviews and with his own blogging, which allowed Ebert to work even while on bed rest. At one point, after receiving numerous questions from Steve, Ebert responds back, "Isn't that somewhere in the book," almost pointing out the redundancy of the questions.

Even though some of the film is reiterations, the themes are important enough to reiterate. His relationship with his wife, Chaz, changed the man. Many say during their interview that Ebert mellowed. His blood wasn't boiling, but cooled down to a gentle simmer. Chaz is really the co-star of the film, and she carries on Ebert's legacy. The film touches on the impact Ebert had on the film and critical world, but that could really take up a whole other film. There could be long discussions as to whether it's better to be an Hollywood insider or outsider as a critic, or if Siskel and Ebert's thumb rating system hindered the field. The film wasn't really built for that, despite being totally captivating for a fellow film critic. Instead, the most impactful and touching parts come from those who really knew Ebert, proving that life isn't about your work, but about the joy, the sorrow, and the ties that make up your life.

"Snowpiercer" is the "Little Engine That Could" With Axes and Machetes

The gruff looking Curtis (played by a bearded Chris Evans) counts the number of doors that separate him and the rest of the tail inhabitants from the rest of the train, the titled Snowpiercer. He figures that he has to four seconds to get through five doors in order take the train from the rest of the train's occupants who live in a life of luxury. The tail-enders are served only gelatin protein bars and must suffer through the rules and punishments dictated by those at the head of the train. The tail passengers can't just get off at the next stop, for the world has been in an inhospitable ice age for 17 years, and the people on the train are the only humans left alive. The train never stops; it just goes on a never ending loop around the world, and if the train stops, it will never start again. 

This is the set-up for futuristic, dystopian story originally created in graphic novel form by Jacques Lob  Jean-Marc Rochette and adapted for the screen by South Korean director Bong Joon-Ho, making this his first English speaking film. Joon-Ho doesn't edit his East Asian influences in this film. It still contains the over-the-top blood and violence, the campy melodrama, and Joon-Ho's signature mood whiplashing humor. Joon-Ho always infuses politics in his film, and Snowpiercer containing bits of global concerns while depicting the evils of a totalitarian utilitarian philosophy. These themes are always in the background, as much more attention is paid to the action and violence. These scenes are sometimes too long, but they are brutal, quick-paced and bloody. (I mentioned the East Asian sensibility, so there are axes, spears and machetes.) The characters are always shown bruised, bleeding, or swollen eyed (and some are missing a couple of limbs!) 

This epic savageness can border on silly or even stupidity. During a dark reveal about the early months on the train caused half of the audience to gasp and the other half to laugh. (I laughed) It's because the film makes sure that there are no questions left unanswered, and in this highly imaginative setting, some of the answers just end up being beef-witted. 

Some of these feelings may radiate from the lead, Chris Evans, and this is the best acting I've seen from him which isn't saying much. I'm not an Evans hater by any means; I have given him credit for playing a highly earnest yet relatable Captain America. It's just there are many emotional moments for his Curtis that comes off flat, and it may be the dialogue, it may be Evans, or it may be a combo of the both. I was never really invested in his reluctant struggle in being the rebels' leader. 

A good thing is that Evans is backed by a talented, international cast, including Jamie Bell as Curtis's right hand man, Edgar; Octavia Spencer as Tanya, a tail-ender looking for her missing son; Song Kang-Ho and Go Ah-sung, as a drug addicted engineer and his clairvoyant daughter (and also two Joon-Ho regulars); John Hurt as the wise leader of the tail end, Gilliam; Vlad Ivanov as the relentless killer Franco the Elder; and Tilda Swinton as Mason, a head-end administrator fervently devoted to totalitarian ideals (Swinton just chews up the scene in the second craziest make-up I've seen her in this year.)

This interesting cast keeps the film chugging along as the rebels make their way up the mile long train, and it's these moments when the characters find themselves in a new train car that I enjoy the best. When they discover what they've been denied, like sushi and sunlight, you become aware of all that we as First World Americans take for granted. It's these scenes that separate Snowpiercer from the rest of the noisy, action blockbusters, and it will probably be the best action movie of the year despite the deeply questionable set-up. Snowpiercer is all about sacrifices and investigates when sacrifice is too great. When thinking about the film, I ask myself, "What could have changed to make it better?" Despite the stale, gelatin bar taste I get with the film, I wouldn't forfeit much. 

"The Odd Couple" Meets a Holocaust Survivor Story in "Ida"

A mother superior tells the young novice Anna that she must meet with her only relative, her mother's sister, in order to make her vows. Anna questions this task, but she is soon sent out into the 1960's, Communist Poland, where is meets her Aunt Wanda, who is more reluctant towards this reunion than Anna is.Wanda tells Anna that her real name is Ida Lebenstein, her parents were killed in the war, and that Anna/Ida is a Jew.

Ida is a film about identity, and devotion to that identity when faced with a conflicting background. When Anna learns about her heritage, she goes from wide-eyed to even wider-eyed, pretty much the only expressions she shows in the film. Her irises are inky black, highlighted by the elegant black-and-white the movie is filmed in. We can tell her eyes are like sponges; she is taking everything she sees in. What Anna sees and learns will affect her world view as she visits her family's graves with her aunt. Wanda knows history will unfold as they take this journey. She ask Anna, "What is you find that God isn't there?"

The film isn't completely bleak. There is some humor to the interaction between the quiet, Christian Ann, dressed in her clean habit, and the abrasive, chain-smoking, drunk driving aunt wearing her elegant dresses and furs. Wanda is constantly trying to goad curiosity out Anna with the hopes that she breaks from Christian lifestyle that Anna learned from the orphanage. Their roadtrip across Poland, visiting various sites involving their family's demise, involves a lot of hard-feeling between the two. Neither wants to be around each other, both want their behavior to rub off on the other, and yet their personalities are both needed for the undertaking at hand.

This films deals a lot with duality, highlighted by the black-and-white picture. The clean white snow and the clear, bright sky often meets with the grimy streets and rusty metal signs. Cinematographers Ryszard Lenczewski and Lukasz Zal's work in the film is sublime. The picture is composed many times with the characters' faces in the lower corners, creating a screen filled with a lot of empty spaces, giving us a clear picture of scenery that has seen its share of ghost.

The film is a slow burn,  which makes it odd that the final act is kind of rushed. It's a shame, really, since Ida is about who Anna thinks she is, and who she wants to become. The film is only 80 minutes long, and I'm sure the director, Paweł Pawlikowski, could linger on her for a little bit longer. I'm saying this out of love for the characters. I was presented with a simple, haunting story where the past can still rattle your soul 20 years later, and I can't help but want to know that everything is going to be all right.

Tom Hardy Gets "Locke"d in his Car, or Something

I'm going to try to keep my review of Locke as pun free as possible, and you'll understand why this will be a hard feat. Locke tells the story of Ivan Locke (Tom Hardy), a concrete construction manager who is about to head home to watch a football game with his family. Also, it happens to be the night before the most important day in his career, but instead of getting some good shut-eye and having bonding family time, he decides to drive the other direction toward London, where he is going to be there for the woman he had a one-night stand with and is about to give birth to his son. The movie is about this car ride towards London.

And that's it. It's only this car ride.

Okay, it's more interesting than that, and you can see quickly see how the title has double meaning (locked in his car, locked in his decisions, locked in responsibility, blah, blah, blah.) Most of the movie features Locke talking with various people thanks to his car's built-in phone system. He has to tell his wife why he isn't coming home, he's yelling at his co-worker as to what he has to do in order to make the next day go as planned, he's tries to lay out the facts to his boss as to why he isn't going to be at work, and he tries to keep his child's mother, a social invalid and emotional wreck, from doing something stupid and involuntarily killing the child. These conversations are tense and dramatic. His conversations with his sons are particularly heart-rending, especially when you learn how important it is to Locke to be a good father. That trait plays a big part in his motivations, and we learn why.

Most of this is revealed about 15 minutes in the film, and then it's just Locke trying to keep his personal life from unraveling and leave his professional life with some dignity. Still, I didn't feel like this story features that big of stakes to be presented in such a severe manner. I am aware that I don't have children or a career that could be destroyed in a minute, so I know that there is some bias in this statement. I just know that if this movie was any minute longer, and it's a tight 85 minutes, it would have been unbearable.

The real stars of the film are Hardy and cinematography by Haris Zambarloukos. Zambarloukos layers the outside through the reflection on the car to show the outside pressure of the world, a major theme in glass bottle stories like this. And Hardy, who is known for being a physical actor who has portrayed Bane, Charles Bronson, and a MMA fighter, is seen only from the mid-waist up. This is completely an acting vehicle for him. He has such an interesting, calm yet assertive manner to his voice, almost like Daniel Day Lewis in There Will Be Blood, where he puts up with everyone illogical emotions.

It's important for an actor to take small projects like this, especially for one who has notched some big blockbusters on his belt. I doubt this film will win any awards, and I don't think it really should, but Hardy does drive this film and makes the slim story interesting and watchable for anyone who has the patience.

Did I Check In or Check Out at "The Grand Budapest Hotel"?

Wes Anderson certainly has a bag of tricks that he puts in all of his films, and saying that is a cliche. His style has become so distinct, he makes for a strong case for auteur theory. (Check out the SNL spoof, The Midnight Coterie of Sinister Intruders, the Wes Anderson horror film. It's pretty spot on.) The mise-en-scène in his films are composed to hell, perfectly framed, and contains so much character to the backgrounds that it becomes campy. The Grand Budapest Hotel is the screenplay that Anderson wrote by himself, a first for him, and it seems that having a co-writer caused him to edit down, because in TGBH, he throws all of his devices in there, and guess what! It worked. TGBH turned out to be my favorite of his films.

A part of this is because there isn't a clash between aesthetics and story. The characters are distinct and likable, not common in other films like Rushmore and Moonrise Kingdom. Many of the main characters in Anderson's other films I would describe as capable losers. They're depressive, smart, and egotistical, while the tone is less than serious. 

That is not the case here. Ralph Fiennes portrays legendary concierge M. Gustave at the titled hotel. Gustave is loved by everyone and anyone who he has met, particularly rich, older widows (who happen to also be blonde.) He develops a mentor/pupil bond with the new lobby boy, Zero, played purposely flat by newcomer Tony Revolori. They are connected by the fact that they are both orphans, and fall into a grand misadventure involving a prison break, World War II, Communist, and a fictitiously famous painting Boy with Apple, who is bestowed to Gustave after one of his eldest, um, "customers", Madame D, is mysteriously killed. 

I have to mention Tilda Swinton, who played Madame D, and she was completely unrecognizable in probably the greatest old lady make-up I've seen. It's humorous when you figure out who it's her, but it also irked me a bit because I know that it's hard for older actresses to get work, and I don't know why they would spend so much time and money on transforming Swinton unless it was for a laugh, and it's more of a chuckle at most. 

The other Anderson players show up in various ways, but the story here is pretty much focused on Gustave and Zero, and there is little time for extra character development, which is fine. It's always nice to see Bill Murray, but I don't need to know much about M. Ivan, a member of a secret club of concierge. That's all you really learn, and that's all your really need to know. Still, every character that shows up is fleshed out and play their part in the evolving story.

This madcap of a story is shockingly Anderson's most violent film, involving lacerated fingers, heads in boxes, and cats being thrown out windows. I have to say that I love this kind of light-hearted macabre ever since watching the short lived TV series Pushing Daisies. The film never falls into a depression despite it's dark nature. Yet, despite the lightheartedness and straight up goofy nature of the presentation, TGBH holds up some universal themes, and is Anderson's most profound piece of work. By the last two minutes, I began to get choked up, and as the credit rolled, I began to cry: a new trick to add to Anderson's repertoire.

Hayao Miyazaki's Final Flight in "The Wind Rises"

Hayao Miyazaki is often called Japan's Walt Disney, or compared to British animator Nick Park, but these associations are pointless. Miyazaki has a style, ideas, and themes of his own, and he has made Studio Ghibli an international and cultural significant studio. His last film, The Wind Rises, is his most quiet and his most down-to-earth film. It follows the 10 year journey of Jiro Horikoshi, the chief engineer of many of Japan's fighter planes during World War II.

This may seem like an odd final film for someone who has created magical worlds involving bathhouses for spirits and giant wolf gods. It only takes a couple of watches of Miyazaki's other films to understand that he is inspired by high-flying, fast paced action, and The Wind Rises doesn't lack any of it. The flight sequences are kinetic and dramatic, as expected, and they are the real reason you would want to view the film on the big screen. There is great joy seeing Horikoshi's projects soar, and his failures explode with a crackling energy. Many of these action scenes contain sounds effects created by human voices, which is both entertaining (during the Kanto Earthquake of 1923, the ground sounds like it has indigestion,) and distracting (the plane propellers sound like children making plane noises.)

The theme of the film, dedicating your life to your passion and your craft, is most likely to resonate more as a final film to a long legacy. Horikoshi often has trouble with designing the perfect plane that will be used for massive killing, and he notes at time that his creations would be flawless if he didn't have to worry about the weight of the guns. The dream sequences where there is discussion between Horikoshi and Italian designer Giovanni Battista Caproni are significant as they voice this struggle. Also, the characterization of Caproni makes for the most humorous scenes in a rather soft movie.

This plot point is put in the background when Horikoshi begins to romance his soulmate, Naoko, who suffers from tuberculosis. While this story is without a doubt achingly sweet, even for a jaded viewer like me, it does cause a sudden shift in the purpose of the film. At times, I felt like I was watching two different films. I thought it was about planes and passion, but then it became a film about love and death. The two storylines may have been merged together better if the lead character was more charismatic. Horikoshi is such a blank slate that the other characters in the scene control the mood. Horikoshi isn't strong enough to anchor us to these two stories and act as a bridge, but luckily the animation and the bigger, historical picture fastens the viewer into Miyazaki's vision.

One thing I love about the animation is the lack of computer animation, which Miyazaki has never really delved into. CGI is the quickest way to date a film. Just look at the first Toy Story and Toy Story 3. Miyazaki's hand drawn animation makes his entire filmography feel like they came from the same era, which is a trait that most auteur's can never achieve. Miyazaki has traits that all filmmakers hope to possess, and it is noted again in this final film. Like all of his films, this last one is bittersweet, epic, and spellbinding, even when rooted in a historical dramatics.

"Gloria", I Think They Got Your Number

I blame Gloria for having that damn Laura Branigan song in my head days before I saw it and days afterwards. It's a very fitting song for the movie with lyrics like "I think you're headed for a breakdown, so be careful not to show it," and I wonder if the song actually inspired the movie, or at least, the main character.

When I saw the previews for Gloria, it was kind of presented as a sort of romantic comedy that would be the Argentinian equivalent of a Nancy Meyers movie. It's more subtle than I suspected, and it contains a lot of nuance. The first half really takes it's time presenting Gloria, played perfectly and bravely by Paulina García. That first half can become tedious. The pace is a little too slow, and the story doesn't really seem to be going anywhere, but the film picks up in the last half.

We see Gloria, who is divorced woman in her fifties who battles loneliness by visiting dance clubs and taking laughing workshops, crave companionship, a trait more potent than she realizes. This comes out when she starts seeing Rodolfo, an older gentleman who wears a waist cincher and is controlled by his two daughters and ex-wife. He's more than a mess, and the fact that she is drawn to him speaks volumes about her.

There's a scene where Gloria's ex-husband's wife offers he marijuana, and Gloria kindly declines because "I'm a little scared of losing control," and we see what happens when she does. The character is so youthful and energetic that I found it fascinating that she seemed her oldest when she acts like a reckless twenty year old. Getting black out drunk and making out with strangers is not cute no matter how old you are, but these scenes are pretty humorous. Actually, the film does offer a lot funny moments thanks to having a lead character that isn't afraid to laugh at herself. 

The main drive of the film is Garcia and the script written by Gonzalo Maza and Sebastián Lelio. The latter directed the film and presented a nondescript mise en scène, but his vision could have been edited down a little bit. There's a little too much fat in and between scenes. Still, Gloria is a great character study for those with the patience to see it through. It's not often that we see an honest representation of a woman who is without a husband, whose kids are living their own lives, who suffers through bad relationships, and experiments with drugs without presenting her as a joke. She's still a hero, despite her flaws. Gloria is amusing, thoughtful, surprisingly erotic, and is accessible for everyone.

Now, here's the song Gloria, because I want you to suffer, too.

A Whole Year of Free Movies & "The Past"

So, I went to my first Oscar party this year. It was at Images Cinema in Williamstown, MA., and it is a wonderful little non-profit, community based theater. All of my favorite movies from last year I saw mostly there. They had an Oscar ballet, as every Oscar party I imagine does, and I was dead set on winning. I did my research, looked at who was winning everything, and I made my decisions days before the night. I was sure that something was going to flub me up since there are always surprise winners at the Oscars, but luckily for me, the Academy decided to stay right in the middle of the road. It made for the boring ceremony overall, but it worked out for me because I won! I now have a pass for a whole year of free movies at Images, and I'm going to make the most of it. I promise that I'm going to write about every film I see there this year.

My special year pass started on March 14th, and I went right away to view The Past. It comes from director and writer Asghar Farhadi, who wrote and directed the more-than-fantastic A Separation. This film again features the effects of divorce, and while I went into the film thinking it was going to be A Separation: Part Deux, I was proven wrong by how different the characters and the situation was compared to his previous film. The films look a lot alike because they were both worked on my cinematographer Mahmoud Kalari. There is very dark, gloomy, yet natural approach to his pictures that I think work well for both stories.

The Past is doesn't have the same tense momentum that A Separation features. Revelations pile up more slowly in The Past, and while I would say that A Separation's main theme was about lying, The Past is about secrets. These characters really care about each other, but they keep on inflicting wounds which causes bitter resentment, jealousy, and despair. The title is appropriately named, as the characters try to move on with their lives, but that seems hopeless until they deal with the ghosts from their history, particularly one ghost, the character Samir's ex-wife, who acts as a sort of Rebecca-like phantom.

The film has a great ensemble that work well together, and there is a specific chemistry each character has in relation to the others that I think the cast really brought out. Ali Mossafa as Ahmed holds the film together as the outsider who acts as the voice of reason. Ahmed's future ex-wife, Marie, played by Bérénice Bejo, is a woman who means well, but she is constantly reminded of her failures as a mother and a spouse. It was great to see Tahar Rahim again (I haven't seen him in anything since his debut in A Prophet.) He portrays Samir, Marie's fiancé, and he really creates a character that is constantly in mourning yet trying to move on, and Samir has more depth than I thought was there at the beginning.

Still, the real stars belong to the child actors (how come French movies always feature amazing child actors.) This may be because Farhadi didn't write them as angst ridden children witnessing their parents' relationship problems. There were inklings of this archetype at the beginning, and I was about ready to roll my eyes at the whole film, but these young characters developed to contain real emotions and drives. Samir's son Fouad, played by Elyes Aguis, was the character, to me, who seemed to be hurting the most. You can almost see the cuts in his heart. I want to add that Pop Culture Happy Hour did a discussion about teenage and child characters a month ago that I feel was thoughtful. 

I recommend that you see it, particularly if you like A Separation (and who didn't?) It slows down towards the last act, which makes it a little less than perfect, and the plot points can be a little far fetched. With all of that being said, we are still left with an involving melodrama about how important communication is to a family, even if it involves shouting.  

My Favorite Films of 2013

Another year down, and boy was it a doozy. In my short time where I consider myself as a film hobbyist, I don't think I've experienced a winter film season with so many films that have so much hype. The surprising thing about this year is that most of these films are American, too. Sure, most American films are overproduced, noisy, and dumb, but this was a good year for the good 'ole USA. This may come from the fact that many American treasures and established creators released films this year, including Scorsese, the Coen Brothers, Woody Allen, David O. Russell, Alexander Payne, Paul Greengrass, and Spike Jonze. This has kind of overshadowed new talent, and I haven't seen a lot of the lesser known artists' work, I think, because of this. I may add that I'm an amateur not getting paid to see movies, so there's only so many movies I can watch. I did miss out on her, Nebraska, Short Term 12, The Great Beauty, and Dallas Buyer's Club, just to name a few of the films that I really, really wanted to see before I wrote this, but it would be lame to post a "Best of" list in March. (I began writing this in January, and it's almost March!)

First off, honorable mentions for the Robert Redford driven film All is Lost, which is about a man lost at sea by himself, and it proved to be the most tense movie of the year. The World's End, the latest collaboration between Edger Wright, Simon Pegg, and Nick Frost, which was unsurprisingly hilarious along with creating their greatest character, Gary King. Upstream Color is a psychedelic sci-fi romance made for people who love 2001 and Terrence Malick movies. It should also be noted that Shane Carruth starred, directed, produced, edited, composed, designed, and cast the film. It was truly his film, and he should be applauded.

The List

10.) The Act of Killing- The Act of Killing is a rough, brutal way to start a movie list, but then again, my movie taste is usually confrontational. Confrontational is a good word to describe this documentary, which follows a group of Indonesian gangster recreating, on film, their massive killing spree during the anti-Communist purge of '65-'66. Anwar, the film's main character, is reported to have killed almost 1,000 men, usually by strangling them wire. The film starts off with punch by having one Anwar's friends casting local kids to recreate them crying as he kills their parents. The most harrowing part of the film is that these thugs and their party are still in power. They are legendary, and yet they know how false their image is.
-Favorite Scene- A man whose father was actually killed during the killings suggest to Anwar and his friends that they film his side of the story, too. They shut down the idea because they know that it would make the communist look sympathetic and themselves as monsters. This grown-up orphan proves to be the best actor during the recreations, not surprisingly.

9.) American Hustle- This film features the best acting by bad hair. When I saw the trailer for this, I was so confused as to why they all had awful hair-dos. I knew the movie took place in the '70's, but it looked like the 70's puked on this film, until they revealed the movie took place in New Jersey. Oh, that explains it. Anyway, American Hustle proves again that David O. Russell knows how to direct ensemble films, and it features the some of best acting of the year. Amy Adams and Christian Bale's chemistry and relationship holds the film in place and prove that they are some of the best working in the biz, while Jennifer Lawrence proves that she is her greatest in a dramedic (drama-comedy) role, playing Bale's cartoony, manipulative wife. This is a film about con-artists, and no one is really honorable, besides Jeremy Renner's character. Still, you end up rooting for many of the characters in hope that they find their happy ending. Some people have complained that the film wasn't informative enough, but do viewers really expect this to be a document about the FBI Abscam operation while starring Bradley Cooper? Hell, the film started off with the disclaimer, "Some of this actually happened." For a movie about phonies and liars, it started off being more honest than most films.
-Favorite Scene- The bathroom scene! If you've seen it, this was your favorite scene, too, I'm sure. Sydney (Adams) confronts Rosalyn (Lawrence) about her ebarassing behavior in front of some mobsters, and Rosalyn confronts Sydney about her affair with her husband, and the emotions are explosive.

8.) War Witch- War Witch is a magical realistic film about 12-year old Komona (played by first time actress Rachel Mwanza) who is made to kill her parent and join rebel forces in the Democratic Republic of the Congo. Komona's ability to see ghosts gives the rebels an upper hand against the government, so she becomes a prized possession to the rebel general. A love affair with an albino rebel causes the two to try to flee and create a better life for themselves, but they learn that it is easier said than done. War Witch proved to be one of the most beautiful films because of cinematographer Nicholas Bolduc, yet the film is so devastating. The things that Komona has to go through, and we all know that this situation isn't too farfetched, is just awful. Still, the movie is pretty subtle. The story is harsh without being overbearing and sympathetic without being sappy. Through it all, the film does present a light at the end of the dusty tunnel.
-Favorite Scene- It's hard to say favorite with a movie like this, but the second to the last scene, where Komana gets to the end point of her journey and achieves her goal. Sorry, I don't want to give too much away, but it is just moving.

7.) Frances Ha- The film's title character, Frances, is a 27 year-old modern dancer following her dream, except that she's not really good at it. Besides not getting anywhere with her dance company, her best friend and "soul mate," Sophie, tells her that she's moving out to live with her new boyfriend, who Frances doesn't really care for. Now one her own and looking for a solid place to live, Frances makes one bad mistake after another without the guidance of her BFF. Frances is truly made for late-twenties viewer who questions their life as their choices create more and more concrete paths, and the film at times can be terrifying. Still, the energy of the film rarely becomes heavy and the humor is shameless and sometime raunchy. Plus, Greta Gerwig, as the film's star and co-writer, is so perfect at being ditsy (and kind of dumb) yet lovable. I see Frances Ha becoming a cult favorite for the confused and misplaced.
-Favorite Scene- Frances calls Sophie while on spur-of-the-moment visit to Paris, and the two try to patch up after a falling out while keeping arm's length from each other because of their less than satisfying lives. The two friends have so much that they want to say to each other, but are too scared to go first.

6.) The Gatekeepers- I feel like I have a little bit of a theme here with The Act of Killing, War Witch, and The Gatekeepers, but it wasn't on purpose. The Gatekeepers is a documentary that features interviews with six former heads of the Shin Bet, Israel's internal security service. Not only is the Shin Bet pretty secretive, but to get these six to talk so candidly seems unprecedented, even from the viewpoint of someone who doesn't know all that much about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. The film goes through "highlights" and major events involving the Shin Bet. The Gatekeepers will go down as essential viewing for anyone who wants to learn more about conflict in the Middle East. What I found fascinating is that these six men, who have obviously different world views, tactics, and personalities, all pretty much say the same thing: that they're trapped in cycle of violence caused by extremists and ideology.
-Favorite Scene- When discussing the Bus 300 affair of 1984, the filmmakers recreated the conflict through first hand photographs and computer imagery creating a still image that allowed movement for the camera and blended the photos together. You have to see it, because my explanation kind of sucks.

5.) 12 Years a Slave- Critic Andrew Shuster called 12 Years a Slave the "feel bad movie of the year," and I have to agree with him. It walks hand-in-hand with The Act of Killing for depicting inhuman history. This is not surprising since it's a slave story coming from Steve McQueen, a director whose previous work showcases human misery. Some may even go as far to call it a horror film, and I would have to agree with them. That's what slavery was: horrific, and the creators don't pull back.
Solomon Northup is an interesting hero in the sense that he doesn't really do anything too heroic, which makes it such a curious film. Because there is not grand deliverance, it can make story kind of painful, because there seems to be no hope. Chiwetel Ejiofor conveys that hopelessness so well, and you can see it slowly drain on him. It's a look of injustice. On the other hand, there's Michael Fassbender as his Solomon's master, who shows rage, anger, and hate so well, but then again, Michael Fassbender gets everything right in everything he does. These characters are surrounded by a vivid, magnificent picture thanks to Steve McQueen and cinematographer Sean Bobbitt. It is artful, merciless, and a much needed reminder of the sins of the past, because they're still felt here in the present.
-Favorite Scene- Again, "favorite" is a bad word to use, but the most memorable is when Solomon is left dangling from a rope around his neck for half a day. I'm sure a lot people think that the whipping scene is the most dramatic, but watching Northup struggle for dear life was almost unwatchable. It's even more striking when the other slaves on the farm start going about doing their chores, and children are playing in the background while Northup tiptoes on the ground just to get a little release from the pressure.

4.) Gravity- I hate when movies try to recreate the experience of roller coasters and video
games. Gravity does that a lot, but it was great, and there are so many reasons why a film like this didn't drive me crazy. One, the imagery was amazing. Setting a story above the Earth creates a mise-en-scène that you can't get wrong. Two, the peril was real, scary, and stressful. Every time debris started circling around back to Sandra Bullock's character, Ryan Stone, I'm sure that I held my breath until all of the chaos stopped. Three, the story is pretty good. I know a lot of people think that it's just a lot of stuff exploding in space, but there is much to write on in regards to the story. Sure, it is minimalistic, but there is a lot of information packed in the tight 90 minute film. For those who don't think there is a storyline, I challenge you! Four, the camera work is insane. I'm a fan of the long shots, and director Alfonso Cuarón loves the long shots. They create such a tension that is hard to replicate. Five, the acting is really good. It's interesting that this film came out the same year as All is Lost, since both are driven by mainly one character stuck in a perilous situation. Gravity is all about Dr. Stone, and this is the best acting done by Bullock I've seen (honestly, though, just about any actress could have played the part as long as they got over the grueling physical nature of the role, but kudos to her.) Finally, I love a film that causes the audience to shut the hell up. When the loud musical intro started and then quickly cut to a silent picture of Earth, no one in the audience spoke for the rest of the movie. That's a job well done in my book.
-Favorite Scene- The first scene is the best part, because it is the most startling. It took me a couple minutes to get use to the character floating in space, and just when my nerves were settled, satellite debris was destroying everything, including the shuttle Dr. Stone was attached to, spinning her around and around, and I almost puked.

3.) Inside Llewyn Davis- If anyone was hoping Inside Llewyn Davis was going to be another O' Brother, Where Art Thou? because it was another collaboration between the Coen Brothers and T Bone Bennett, well, I'm sure they were disappointed. Inside Llewyn Davis is a gloomy affair, which is noticeable right away by the photography's muted, also colorless presentation. The story, too, is rather melancholy. It's about a struggling folk singer in New York before Bob Dylan made folk popular. Llewyn can never catch a break in the film, and it seems like the universe is out to get him. At least, it seems that way at first. As the film goes on, you learn that Llewyn is kind of a dick. I couldn't help but feel that he deserves some of his punishment. Still, for as cold and unlikable Llewyn is, you really understand the person he is when he is performing. His music is the only likeable thing about him, and the character is perfectly played by Oscar Isaacs. I think it may be my favorite performance of the year, and I can't think of anyone else who could have captured the character. The film is an Internet catch, too, because it features a cat for most of the film, and features the usual Coen Brothers weirdness (the scenes with John Goodman as a rude, Voodoo-practicing junky is just bizarre.)
-Favorite Scene- Llewyn travels to Chicago just to talk to a producer, which cases an impromptu audition. Llewyn sings "The Death of Queen Jane," and the performance is probably the most heartfelt in the whole movie. When Llewyn finishes the song, you can see Llewyn hold his breath, waiting for the producer's words, which may change Llewyn's life forever.

Before I talk about my next film, let me say one thing about this list. The previous films didn't really have a set order. They were just films that I think people should see, but I don't really think that Frances Ha is better than The Act of Killing. The order is really just arbitrary and depended on my mood. The order has changed so many times. Even the honorable mentions have been in my top ten at one time or another. Still, this top two is concrete and will not move. They have stayed with me since I've seen them. I've revisited them many times in my head, and plan on revisiting them physically many times in the future.

2.) Before Midnight- Now, Before Midnight is the third film in the "Before" series by director Richard Linkletter and starring Ethan Hawke and Julie Delpy. It's been 18 years since the first film, which featured American Jesse (Hawke) and French Céline (Delpy) as two strangers who spend the night together wondering the streets of Vienna. After a sequel that brought them back together, we see Jesse and Céline in Greece on a six week family vacation. The film contains the usual yet great features that the other films contain: the two walking around a European town talking about relationships, love, and the future. It would seem that it wouldn't be that interesting the third time around, but the characters are older, more experienced, and still have more questions than answers about the ultimate questions of life. Linkletter, Hawke, and Delpy know these characters through and through, and everything seems real and honest. The two leads are almost non-acting; I can't tell that this is a performance for others to see. While I'm usually one who want good things to die before they become stale, I kind of hope that we meet up again with Jesse and Céline in another nine years.
-Favorite Scene- The twenty minute fight scene in the hotel is pretty intense and kind of depressing. The courting is done with, the honeymoon is over, and love hasn't defeated all the fears Jesse and Céline had about marriage. They know each other better than before, and they know how to make each other pissed to prove a point. We haven't seen these characters act like this before, which is pretty great for a third film in a series. Plus, the scene perfectly captures an argument between two lovers: badly chosen words start off a spark which quickly becomes a raging fire, accusations about the past get thrown around, and bickering about time management spring up (which always happens in verbal fights for some reason.) As much as it was hard to watch at times, it was inevitable, and you could see its possibilities from the very beginning.

1.) Stories We Tell- My favorite film of the year is a documentary from director/actress Sarah Polley, who explores the life of her mother, who died when Polley was only 11. She interviews her siblings, extended family members, and family friends about her mother, who comes off as vibrant, energeetic, and caring. The film could have ended there and have been one daughter's journey into learning about a mother that she never knew, but through exploring, Polley learns that her mother actually had an affair, and that her father, Michael, isn't her biological father. The film becomes a mystery that contains a couple of surprises. What's really surprising is that the film becomes a meta exploration into the nature of storytelling and documentaries. Is objective viewpoints possible? Are there honest-to-God truths, falsehoods, or a combination of both when it comes to recollecting the past? I kept on asking myself days after seeing the film, "what was real?" It has changed the way I've viewed documentaries since. Still, the film isn't too heady or heavy. It is a really sweet, tender film about a loving family, and it made me laugh one minute and cry the next.
-Favorite Scene- I love the scenes where Polley's paternal father, Michael, reads Sarah's personal writings about her mother, her fathers, and the events that make up the film. All the while, Sarah is in the recording booth, making sure that Michael gets the recording just right. You get the sense that the news that Michael isn't Sarah's biological father hasn't weakened their bond, but has made it stronger. Still, there is also a sense of performance coming from these scenes, as both Sarah and Michael are skilled actors, and I can't help but wonder how much of this was staged.