Martin Campbell – Casino Royale (2)
For some bizarre reason that I find it hard to put my finger on, I still like Timothy Dalton’s Bond best. Maybe it was the discrepancy between his effeminate appearance and the supposed tough guy he portrayed. Craig certainly doesn’t have that asset, if an asset it is, but the realism the makers of this movie were striving for, is certainly rewarding. I’m not a fan of product placement, nor of movies that are longer than they should be, nor of the elaborate stunt sequence beginning, that felt like it was tailored for a computer game, but still watching this latest Bond was more fun than I recall the last few attempts to be. And I also liked the surrealist feel of going back to the roots, yet having the plot set in the present, with Dench as M.
Maybe it was because I had felt to be in a similar place to Mastroiani’s manic director recently, or maybe it’s just the fact that Fellini can make you feel things you didn’t realize you had in you, but in the final scene’s taking down of the main character’s overblown ego machine it felt like part of me was coming down with it, in oddly satisfying melancholy.
Not knowing much about the conditions in the south african townships, this beautiful movie left me with the feeling of having been there, and a deep sympathy for its deeply troubled protagonist. While the story is troubling and uplifting at the same time, the cinematography is gorgeous, and the desert townships with the downtown areas as a backdrop are weirder than anything out of dystopian scifi could have been thirty years ago.
Finally, the non-sucking sequel to the Matrix. While V is still wordy and rich in pseudophilobabble, it is mostly stylish and ironic enough to get away with it. Weaving and Portman both are excellent, him being all the more impressive for doing it all from under a cheesy mask. A comic book version of political discourse still, at least this impromptu is enjoyable to watch and visually pleasing.
The beginning of this movie is excrutiating. We observe the inner workings of a dysfunctional family, partly through the perspective of the suicidal academic uncle, and the acting and writing is excellent enough to make the pain of what is going on palpable. There also are funny jokes, made more poignant by the underlying darkness, and a developing plot of the little daughter embarking upon a beauty queen endeavor that is obviously doomed. A dark comedy is well on its way, but then the author and the directors couple take a wrong exit, and turn the whole thing into one more suada on how the importance of being oneself and the overarching formative power of familial love. That weary propaganda piece is hard to bear from a mainstream outlet, but to see a supposedly indie movie pander this, and betray all it was trying to show us in a feelgood finale pitting the family unit against the shallow and vain outside world, is hard to bear. The movie still has its nice moments, but overall is a disappointment.
If you need to be told that Familiy Guy is funny, you shouldn’t be surfing the web, you should watch TV and fill the gaping hole in your life. Go. Now.
This movie exudes an almost physical sense of emptyness and ennui. Oddly, while not entirely successful, that is actually a good thing, as Nicholsons character has lost all interest and drifts along mindlessly, trying without success to find meaning in taking over other another person’s life. The opening sequence, unfolding in mysterious wordlessness in a gorgeous desert landscape, are particularly effective at recreating the existential despair of Nicholsons character in the viewer, but all of the movie actually does a terrific job. Which unfortunately is also something of a bad thing.
Never before has the decay of society, the random death and destruction, and the hopeless metaphysical void that was left by the scourge of the black death depicted as stylish as in this chessgame action thriller. I expected dreary symbolism and found a wonderful meditation on death and life.
The staggering story of a Russian who invented one of the weirdest musical instruments of all time, single handedly launching electronic music, then got abducted by the KGB, for whom he then invented the electornic spy bug, and after decades got reunited with his friends, who didn’t know where he was, or whether he was still alive, should have made an awesome movie. Unfortunately, this is not that movie. The reliance of interview material that is less than thrilling and talking head shots instead of interactions draws out the plot, and it is only at the very end, when Theremin meets a woman he knew as a 18 year old singer before his abduction, when the tragedy of the story gets some stage – and five minutes later the movie is over. Still worth watching, but more for factual content than for its artistry.
I am exactly a fan of the romantic movie genre, often citing its lack of explosions as a reason. More accurately stated, the romantic comedy and drama in general lack an element that allows me to overlook faults in plot or character exposition, or overall execution. This is because I am unwilling to let myself become emotionally involved with people whose existence has clearly been disproven by shoddy filmmaking. I harbor no such objections against unrealistic explosive devices, and I blame my genes for said unfounded bias.