The Kingdom: DVD Review

December 31, 2007

Under the direction of Peter Berg [Friday Night Lights], The Kingdom is a frenzied, chaotic and exciting film. While not as provocative or entertaining as Charlie Wilson’s War, The Kingdom espouses its ideology in a fast-paced action format. Better for the masses this way. Bad, mean Arabs vs. good, kind Americans. In these times, anything with Arabs getting shot is a bonus for filmgoers.

There’s a bombing on an American compound in Saudi Arabia. The FBI does not want to investigate. The FBI wants to let it go and let the Saudis handle it. But a few rogue agents want to avenge the death of a close friend. Led by obsessive, all-American Ronald Fleury [Jamie Foxx], an elite few travel to the Middle East for the covert mission. He recruits tough gal Janet Mayes [Jennifer Garner] who finds she doesn’t appreciate the sexist nature of the Middle East. This role cannot be much of a challenge for Garner, comfortable in the realm of warfare and kicking ass [Alias minus the cool wigs and outfits and accent]. There’s also the wisecracking numbers guy Adam Leavitt [played by the charming Jason Bateman, who since Arrested Development has mastered the low-key sarcasm—see also Juno] and Grant Sykes [Chris Cooper] brings brains and wisdom that comes with years of experience to the unit. These types of films are bound to make one think about [in no particular order]: oil; the Saudi Arabia/U.S. alliance; hatred and misunderstanding for other cultures; and most upsetting, training and teaching Middle Eastern youth to despise the United States and Western ideologies. Good vs. evil always plays out well for action films. And I’m pretty sure, that’s what most will see. Nothing more profound than that.

Extras: Behind the scenes on special “wow” scenes such as a car chase and the final heart-pounding confrontation as well as commentary from the major players.

STEELE RECOMMENDATION: SEE IT; NO NEED FOR PLACEMENT AT TOP OF YOUR QUEUE.

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The Savages: Film Review

December 29, 2007

We’re taking better care of the old man than he did of us.

In this remarkable film, two siblings, short of their goals, come together to take care of their father who suffers from dementia. Wendy [Laura Linney] is an aspiring playwright/temp who’s having an affair with a married guy [I have an MFA! This is ridiculous] and keeps applying for fellowships to support her creative endeavors [fellowships that she’s unqualified for, nor will ever receive]. Her brother, Jon [Philip Seymour Hoffman], lives in Buffalo and teaches philosophy and is an expert on Bertolt Brecht. For years, he has been tolling away on a book about the dramatist. After four years, his Polish girlfriend’s visa has run out and instead of helping her or committing to her, he just drives her to the airport. He cries when she cooks him eggs, but isn’t sure if it could work out between them.

This is another role in which Hoffman can stretch. After his turns as a smarmy, conniving brother in Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead and as a sarcastic, anti-Bond CIA agent in Charlie Wilson’s War, you could say Hoffman has had quite the year in cinema. I first noticed Linney [and loved her] in the Tales of the City miniseries. Linney [The Nanny Diaries, Breach] chooses unique, layered roles and has been consistently good through the years. Both actors are from New York and are theatrically trained. And both are super talented in basically un-flashy supporting roles or leading roles in independent films that are rarely seen [like this one]. Linney graduated from Brown and then Julliard. Hoffman from New York University. As brother and sister, it’s a joy to watch these pros play off each other. The siblings nearly balance each other out: messy Jon has a laissez-faire attitude; neatnik Wendy constantly stresses.

The stellar screenplay is poignant, biting, smart, and honest. Writer/director Tamara Jenkins [The Slums of Beverly Hills] has a deft eye for the nuances of human frailties, shortcomings and she’s got a lot of the details in there: the “happy” decorations at the rehab facility/nursing home, the lucid moments inter-mixed with confusion, a child’s need to ignore reality and the final acceptance. Some parts were hard for me for two reasons: one, my grandmother had dementia and died in April and two, I worked at a nursing home, where one week someone would be fine and the next not eating or on oxygen. I appreciate that Jenkins could combine humor [an uncomfortable screening of The Jazz Singer] with heartfelt moments [Wendy brings in a lava lamp to spruce up her father’s room]. There’s a purity and humanity to her outlook. Yes, these are pill-popping, dysfunctional and in many ways unlikeable adults but many of their choices and their experiences are relatable. The Savages covers thorny subject matter with originality.

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Le Scaphandre and le Papillon [The Diving Bell and the Butterfly]: Film Review

December 28, 2007

In Le Scaphandre and le Papillon, filmmaker Julian Schnabel uses an artisan’s eye in adapting this true story of former French Elle magazine editor Jean-Dominque Bauby [Mathieu Amalric]. It’s the rare inspirational and imaginative film about relinquishing the fight and striving for more. Using his deft eye and expressive palette, Schnabel makes a film that is both impressive avant-garde film making and a striking story. One or the other should appeal to most.

After a myocardial infarction, Bauby is completely paralyzed except for his right eye. He finds himself in a rehabilitation facility on the French coast. With the help of a speech therapist and physical therapist he makes some progress. Those around him want him to communicate and with a slow careful process he does. One day, Bauby decides he is not longer going to sulk in self-pity. Bauby says: “I have not lost two things: my imagination and my memory.” In these, he can subsist for quite some time. Many of us don’t possess such enviable, colorful ones that he can peruse in his mind.

With the help of a patient transcriber, by blinking his eye he writes a book about his experience. During flashbacks, we see the effervescent editor at work, at play and with his children. At forty, with two small children and an impressive career as editor for one of the top magazines in France and around the world, Bauby was living life as fast as his designer sport car. Le Scaphandre and le Papillon is the title of the book he ends of writing and as he pens the book in his mind, we journey with him through past experiences with his father [a small act of shaving his father brings out many layers in patriarchal relationships], his lover [we never really see her face and this is so effective; she's a dream within a dream] and his family [the children admire their father so much]. In present day, his children visit and understandably don’t quite know how to react, especially his son, but do their best as small children will.

Much of the film is in Bauby’s one-eyed viewpoint which allows viewers to really get into his experience and heart. Schnabel creatively translates the written word to the screen. With the use of colors, innovative camera angles and unusual marking and editing, this is a visual treat unlike anything else out there in theatres right now. It’s only on a few small screens but it’s worth seeking it out. The title is clunky, Le Scaphandre and le Papillon, but is the title from Bauby’s memoir. The scaphandre [diving bell] represents being trapped inside a container and also relying on other sources beyond oneself to survive. The papillon [butterfly] is more obvious as a means to relinquish the ties that bind and to transform oneself from something unsightly to something beautiful and free.

Schnabel never allows the Le Scaphandre and le Papillon to become a sob story but instead provides empathetic moments. This is a pure, lovely film about humanity, bravery and overcoming the most unimaginable obstacle to accomplish one’s goals. Truly amazing and real. When I have a bad day, I need to pull up these uplifting images.

STEELE RECOMMENDATION: SEE IT IN THE THEATRE!

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Atonement: Film Review

December 17, 2007

I read Ian McEwan’s lovely, wistful and contemplative novel Atonement a few months ago, mainly in preparation for this film [I did the same with The Other Boleyn Sister—though I may have found the books in another manner]. Going into this film, I anticipated waves of beauty and grace and longing. I wanted to leave the theatre with tears in my eyes. Director Joe Wright did such a brilliant job with Keira Knightley on Pride and Prejudice, so another period piece with the duo should be a serious hit [and the Golden Globes agree with seven nominations]. On reflection, this last year has been fairly weak film-wise.

So I brought my mom to the film [we see something together once a month and I feel if I don’t pick well, I am a bad entertainment critic]. She had seen the preview when we saw The Jane Austen Book Club and said, “I’d like to see that,” so I felt a bit off the hook. It turns out that Atonement is a very, very good, solid film but not outstanding. The Notebook has more romantic and memorable scenes, as we girls who recognize these sorts of things already know.

Atonement is the story of a young girl, Briony, who has a crush on an older guy, her family’s housekeeper’s son [rakishly, boyishly handsome James McAvoy]. Briony also has a vivid imagination. She pens plays for her cousins to act out and she writes fantasies about love conquering all. As it goes for any 13-year-old privileged British lass, her accomplished, Cambridge-educated sister has taken a fancy to said crush. Cecilia [Knightley] has done a remarkable job in hemming in her feelings for Robbie [McAvoy]. He also attended Cambridge and she all but ignored him as they ran in different circles, or something of the sort. The family loves Robbie and the father is paying for his education, including medical school which he plans to attend in the fall. One evening, Robbie is invited to dinner at the main house. Earlier, Briony witnesses what she believes is some sort of argument between her sister and Robbie. Later, she misinterprets something that occurs between Robbie] and older sister Cecilia [Knightley]. She accuses Robbie of a despicable crime. A destructive, irreversible aftermath follows. No one, including Briony, will ever be the same.

Fast-forward to WWII. Robbie is in service and Cecilia is a nurse. They have a few isolated moments together. Many occur only in Briony’s imagination. She too has become a nurse, but she is also a novelist [later in life to great acclaim]. Her most special and final work is a thinly veiled, autobiographical in nature, about the worst thing she has ever done: betray her sister and destroy her beloved sister’s chance for romance and happiness with a devoted, honest man. The war scenes drag and detract from film’s true potential to be an epic love story. Star-crossed lovers. Rich girl and the help. In the novel, McEwan pieces together every scene with intricate details that you find it difficult to extricate yourself from the setting. The film version needs more bridges to close the gaps. It jumps a bit too much. What works really well? The film shows crucial scenes from Briony’s and Cecilia’s viewpoints: effective, stirring visual interpretations. Atonement‘s a banquet for the eyes: rich colors, lush landscapes, long lenses to capture the important moments, meaningful glances and Knightley’s lithe bare back revealed by a glam green dress.

The final scene falls flat. I know that often great books do not translate well on the screen and Atonement needs a bit of tweaking here and there. In the end, I enjoyed Atonement, I did. I’m just a bit disappointed because I had such high expectations with the collaboration, the story, the cast. Atonement lacks true substance and character, but it’s quite lovely to gaze at like a pretty painting.I just wanted it to be dripping with regret, loss and forgiveness. Isn’t that what holiday and potential award-winning films are all about?

STEELE RECOMMENDATION: SEE IT IN THE THEATRE

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Favorite CDs of 2007

December 10, 2007

A Fine Frenzy, One Cell in the Sea
Ethereal, moody, moving.

The Shins, Wincing the Night Away

Jesca Hoop, Kismet
Tom Waits is a fan of this singer/songwriter. Jangly rhythms and melding of classic sounds with fresh updates [folky/pop]. The angelic-voiced Hoop has an impressive vocal range too.

Amy Winehouse, Back to Black
Gutteral, resonant. The girl can sing despite her tabloid antics.

Great Northern, Trading Twilight for Daylight
Very indie band. You can picture them criss-crossing the country in a van playing clubs with sticky floors.

Norah Jones, Not Too Late.
Jones has such a soothing voice, this is the CD I put on to go to sleep. And that’s a good thing. I like the mellow stuff.

Bloc Party, A Weekend in the City
Energetic live. One of the best shows I saw this year [not that I managed to get to many]. The single I Still Remember is still fabulous: encompassing hope and nostalgia at once.

The Fiery Furnaces, Widow City
Really eclectic, experimental in style, arrangement and sound. Noise rock.

Radiohead, In Rainbows
I didn’t pay for the download. But I did interview them for The Bends in 1995. This brings them back to their roots, so to speak, and is a collection of solid pop songs.

Feist, The Reminder
Unless you live in a box, you’ve heard the iPod commercial with 1234. She’s singing what you’re thinking. Unique voice and thoughtful lyrics. Reminds me quite a bit of Dido. Particularly like: My Moon My Man, How My Heart Behaves and Honey Honey.

PJ Harvey, White Chalk
This is the first album of PJ Harvey’s that I have really, really loved. I liked some of her songs in the past but this entire album remains so intimate. Stripped down Broken Harp could easily be my theme song right now.

Wilco, Sky Blue Sky
I got a huge crush on Jeff Tweedy after seeing the Wilco documentary I Am Trying to Break Your Heart about the making of an album I love, Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, but hadn’t heard much else before then.

St. Vincent, Marry Me
Cool arrangements and haunting vocals. Playing Middle East in Cambridge, Mass. on March 1.

Cowboy Junkies, At the End of Paths Taken
Great for a rainy days and Sundays. Still Lost is stunning.

Interpol, Our Love to Admire
Sexy vocals and just cool, grooving beats. Fabulous rock band.

Charlotte Gainsbourg, 5:55
Actress/singer and daughter of jazz musician/singer Serge Gainsbourg and actress Jane Birkin [of Blow-Up and Birkin-bag fame], this is dreamy and achingly beautiful. Put The Science of Sleep on your netflix queue too. And she keeps her French-ness intact making it all the more chic. [Which reminds me of one of my favorite 90s bands, Ivy, with French-born lead singer Dominique Durand.

The White Stripes, Icky Thump

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The Nanny Diaries: DVD Review

December 5, 2007

How much more silly could this film be? Based on the enjoyable, easy-to-read book, The Nanny Diaries, by Emma McLaughlin and Nicola Kraus, the film does not provide enough detail, humor or shock-factor to recommend the film over the book. While another popular “loosely based in fact” book at the time, The Devil Wears Prada, successfully unfolded upon the big screen, The Nanny Diaries does not have enough color or emotion to make the audience care. It’s all fluff and silliness.

In the film, Scarlett Johansson [Scoop, The Prestige] plays Annie, a recent college grad and New Jersey-native who walks out on her Goldman Sachs interview and instead takes a job as a nanny. She literally runs into the child, Grayer, in the park. His mother [Mrs. X—played with erect posture and a methodic detachment by the talented Laura Linney], who simply cannot be bothered running after the child, offers her a job. The nonsensical script falls flat. The relationship between the nanny and her charge is non-existent and if there is no connection between these too, why invest in an entire film called The Nanny Diaries? You never believe the attachment between the six-year-old and this nanny. He’s had so many nannies, so why would he bond with this one? Who knows? It’s certainly not made evident through their moments together. A voice-over further insults the viewer. We can see how residents of the Upper East Side act. Just show us. We do not need to hear you describe the nuances that you think we would not normally pick up. Then the film strings together the most contrite and contrived situations possible. The nanny gets exasperated by preparing food for finicky child and gives in by handing him a jar of peanut butter. Oh, and eat it right out of the jar while I keep dipping my finger in and licking it off and putting it back in. Gross. Hysterical moment where the nanny is caught with her pants down. Cute Ivy-league boy to think about. The pair “bond” over his sad, sad story of a dead mother and being sent off to boarding school. And she thought he was spoiled. Silly Annie, the nanny. Of course, the couple’s fighting and the husband’s cheating. The nanny somehow makes the mother understand it is okay to have it all and spend time with her child. It’s all cluttered in this film. The Nanny Diaries falls flat.

EXTRAS: If you care enough, there’s an interview with authors of the book.

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