QUICK THOUGHTS

Full reviews will be coming up soon, but I recently saw, and loved, Courtney Hunt's tension-filled directorial debut Frozen River, which has an amazing performance from Melissa Leo at its center. And the richly textured (both thematically and aesthetically) romantic drama Two Lovers was damn fine, yet another impressive effort from writer/director James Gray (We Own the Night, The Yards).

Coming from Netflix for this week is last fall's hot-button doc Religulous, from HBO provocateur Bill Maher. Really looking forward. Also out this week on DVD is another film I missed in theaters last fall, the true-story drama Flash of Genius with Greg Kinnear. It looked solid. I'll be catching up with that one soon.

ON DVD TODAY

Ridley Scott's supremely underrated and extremely entertaining Middle East thriller Body of Lies hits DVD today. I was a big fan of this kick-ass actioner when I saw it last October, and while it didn't light the box office on fire, I think it's yet another film that unfairly got shafted by audiences who aren't interested in seeing topical films that deal with our current war on terror. This is an intelligent (the screenplay is from The Departed scribe Bill Monahan), action-filled ride, directed with the customary style and rigor that one can expect from a Ridley Scott production. And it's got two beefy, A-list performances from DiCaprio and Crowe. This film will definitely find a second-life on DVD, which it truly deserves. I can't wait to check it out again.

Here's a link to my review that I wrote last year:

http://actionman-nickspix.blogspot.com/2008/10/review-body-of-lies-12.html

DVD REVIEW: BLINDNESS (***1/2)

Blindess (***1/2) is a tough sit. Directed by the extremely talented Fernando Meirelles (City of God, The Constant Gardener), the film, which is based on the novel by Jose Saramago, is a harrowing look at the human condition in a time of great stress and uncertainty. Starring Mark Ruffalo, Julianne Moore, Gael Garcia Bernal, Danny Glover, and Alice Braga, Blindness is set in an unnamed city populated by characters whose names are never given. One day, seemingly at random, a mass epidemic of human blindness breaks out. Ruffalo, an eye doctor, loses his sight after treating a patient who lost his vision a day earlier; before long, hundreds of people are afflicted. Nobody knows why. Nothing can be done. The government rounds up the newly-blind and sends them to an abandoned prison, quarantining them until a solution can be figured out. The twist is that Moore's character (who is Ruffalo's wife) hasn’t lost her sight; she lies to the authorities so that she can stay by her husband's side. Once inside of the prison, factions are created, and people get restless and rowdy. Food rations are stolen and fought over; some of the nastier people demand sexual favors from the women in return for food, in the film's most repellent sequence. Then, an escape is mounted, and some of the sick are able to leave the prison, only to find a strange new world waiting for them on the outside.

Blindness is a film that you're more likely to respect than outright love. I was blown away by Meirelles first two films; they are both masterworks in my opinion. Blindness is a challenging film on multiple levels, and its ambition sometimes exceeds its grasp. First, it demands that you ask yourself tough and hard-to-answer questions while watching it. Because the film is so subjective in its point of view, it’s hard not to project yourself into the narrative and think about what you'd do if you were in this scary situation. The film feels like a thematic cousin to Alfonso Cuaron's riveting Children of Men, and if Blindess isn't as accomplished overall as that film was, it definitely creates a near-future world that feels punishingly real. It's an extra-stylish film, with highly atmospheric and impressionistic cinematography from regular Meirelles collaborator Caesar Chalone. This is an art film starring some familiar Hollywood faces, and as such, there is a curious vibe to much of the production. The amazing production design convincingly creates a gritty, nasty world; as end-of-the-world scenarios go, Blindess has the look and feel of one of the best. There is a desperate quality to the film that is inherently interesting, and while some people may feel that Blindess is too much of one thing, I admire the filmmakers for their tenacity in telling this hard-to-watch story. However, I felt that the film could have been a little longer, a little more patient with its story. There were a few moments where more dialogue would have helped. Having not read the book, I'm not sure what (if anything) was left out. But what I do know, as a result of watching the excellent behind the scenes doc on the DVD, is that Saramago was very happy with the film version of his original creation. While not reaching the dizzying highs of either City of God or The Constant Gardener, Blindess is yet another provocative and arresting piece of work from Meirelles, who is rapidly emerging as one of the best and most important cinematic voices working today. This is a brutal, demanding film, but it's worth your time.

MOVIES FOR THE WEEKEND

I'll be catching up with Courtney Hunt's Oscar nominated (best original screenplay and best actress) Frozen River on DVD.

Also, available via On Demand, I will be watching James Gray's Two Lovers, with Joaquin Phoenix and Gwyneth Paltrow. The film is getting a limited theatrical release starting today, but being a 2929 Production (the company run by Mark Cuban), the film is also being released On Demand as well.

I'd like to see The International with Clive Owen, which hits theaters today, but I think I am going to hold off until next weekend. We'll see.

I also have the dark comedy Noise, starring Tim Robbins, sitting on my DVR; hopefully will sneak that in as well.

SO EFFING FUNNY

Red: You just got killed by a Daewoo Lanos, motherfucker! How do you like me now, eh? (fires shotgun blowing off Matheson's toes)
Saul: Red!
Red: Saul!
Saul: You lied to me.
Red: I did. I lied big time to you.
Saul: Dale said that, that you didn't even have herpes and I said that you did.
Red: Honestly, like, from now on, just, like, from everything that we've gone through, from, like, seeing this fuckin' asshole's nuts smashed with my Daewoo, I want to be a better friend to you. I really am.
Saul: I fuckin' love you, dog. I fuckin' love you.
Red: I wanna be inside you, homes.
Saul: No more lies, Red.
Red: This is my moment.
Saul: This is your moment.

REVIEW: CORALINE (****)

Henry Selick's magically macabre, stop-motion-animation, 3-D visual extravaganza Coraline (****) is the trippiest film in years. I know that last sentence was a mouthful, but Coraline is something special, a film that warrants heaping amounts of praise for its design and execution. If the story sucked (happily, it doesn't) I'd be recommending the film based solely on its technical merits. Hollywood is about to deluge cinemas with 3-D enhanced films; judging from what I saw in Coraline we're all in for a wild ride. 3-D elements run a risk of becoming merely a trick, and at worst, a distraction. I was left cold with what Robert Zemeckis did with Beowulf, but I was left in awe by the sheer spectacle of The Polar Express. I missed out on My Bloody Valentine (just can't bring my self to pay money for horror movies in the theater) but I heard I'm not missing much other than some great 3-D nudity. But with Coraline, Selick has set the bar very high for everyone else following him. The fact that his film is of the stop-motion animation variety only increases the acid-trip feeling that one might feel while watching a movie with these new "Real-D" 3-D glasses. Positioned as a dark children's story, Coraline is based on a book by famed author Neil Gaiman (Sandman, Stardust), and with Selick's Tim Burton-flavored sense of design and quirk, the film evolves into a startling fantasy about a emotionally and spiritually lost little girl who attempts to find happiness no matter how strange her journey becomes. It’s kind of like The Wizard of Oz on a sheet of LSD. Armed with a talented cast of voice performers which includes Dakota Fanning (as Coraline), Teri Hatcher, Ian McShayne, and Keith David, Selick has created a wondrous piece of entertainment, something that might frighten small kids (in a good, honest way), but something that will serve as a precedent for filmmaking of this sort.

Coraline is miserable. Her gardening magazine writing parents (Hatcher and John Hodgman) are too busy typing on their laptops to pay attention to their daughter. There's a strange kid named Wylie (Robert Bailey Jr.) who seems to be stalking Coraline with his mangy black cat (voiced with velvety distinction by David). Then there's the matter of Coraline's eccentric neighbors. There's Russian trapeze artist Mr. Bobinsky (McShayne) and two retired (and boozy) actresses named Miss Spink (Jennifer Saunders) and Miss Forcible (Dawn French) who figure into Coraline's search for happiness in unexpected ways. But the story takes flight when Coraline, late at night, discovers a strange miniature door in the wall of her living room (ala Being John Malkovich), which when entered, takes her on a vertigo-inducing trip into a house that resembles her own. Except, in this house, her "other-mother" and "other-father" are loving, caring souls who cook up a storm for Coraline and generally treat her with the love and warmth that she's so desperately seeking. But there's one off-putting detail to these alternate parents -- they have big, shiny, black buttons in place of eyes. The film pivots back and forth between Coraline in her normal house and in the “other house”, between her real parents and her "other parents," as she tries to decide where she wants to permanently live. Things get dangerous and supremely wacky as Coraline shuffles between the two realities -- where will she end up? And what are the potentially devious motives of her "other-mother"? Selick keeps his film zipping along, and while the narrative sagged slightly in its midsection, this 100 minute film rarely stops for a breath.

The subversive thing about the narrative of Coraline is how some viewers might interpret the story as an anti-drug parable or a reflection of a suicidal pre-teen who is struggling to find her own identity. There are deeper things going on under the surface of Selick and Gaiman's story, allowing the film to operate on multiple levels while it unfolds. You can choose to read into the subtext of the film or not -- upon reflection, the film has a sinister undertone that some people may not pick up on, or want to pick up on. Instead, most people will be justifiably blown-away by the look and atmosphere of the film. Using the painstaking process of stop-motion animation, Selick, as he did 15 years ago in The Nightmare Before Christmas, has created a world dominated by German expressionism, film noir, childish fantasy, and Grimm’s Fairy Tales. The cinematography by Pete Kozachik is exquisite as is the art direction by a team which includes Phil Brotherton, Jamie Caliri, Tom Proost, and Dawn Swiderski. But it's the pop-up-book quality of the 3-D experience that truly blasts Coraline off into another dimension. Rather than constantly having things poking out from the screen at the viewer, Selick uses the 3-D technique to enhance depth of field and the overall environment of everything in the frame -- it's a bold and gorgeous film to stare at. Any one shot could be screen captured, printed, framed, and hung on a wall; Salvador Dali would have had to change his pants after seeing this piece of work. By never condescending to his audience and downplaying cheap and obvious sentimentality, Selick has crafted a ravishing and totally immersive movie going experience. Don't miss it.

REVIEW: THE WRESTLER (****)

I don't need to write a lengthy piece about Darren Aronofsky's masterpiece The Wrestler (****). It's just not necessary. It's a perfect film. There isn't one false moment, there are no wasted opportunities, and there is zero sense of pretension in this quietly powerful motion picture. Coming from a unique stylist like Aronofsky, whose previous efforts include the brain-tingling, micro-budgeted thriller Pi, the hard-core, drug-addiction drama Requiem for a Dream, and the metaphysical and totally out-there sci-fi romance The Fountain, The Wrestler is no less accomplished as those films, but in a very different way. Working with Italian cinematographer Maryse Alberti and emulating the films of the Dardenne brothers by shooting with naturalistic light and hand-held cameras, Aronofsky creates a dirty, gritty, lived-in atmosphere where his potentially self-destructing characters are set free. Working from a tender yet emotionally and physically violent original screenplay by Robert Siegel, Aronofsky also benefits from having the performance of the year at the center of his tale. Mickey Rourke is nothing less than stunning and completely believable as Randy "The Ram" Robinson, a washed-up professional wrestling superstar from the 1980's who barely eeks out a meager existence by wrestling in run-down gyms and local auditoriums. He's got a messed up relationship with this estranged daughter (well played by Evan Rachel Wood, an actress who I have previously disliked over and over) that never seems to take a turn in the right direction. And this is to say nothing of his mega-crush on Cassidy (Marisa Tomei, excellent as usual and frequently nude), a single-mom stripper who exploits her body on stage much in the same fashion as Randy does in the ring. Siegel's screenplay dives into the obvious parallels between the stripping and wrestling worlds, making the case that both Randy and Cassidy are essentially the same people going through the same issues. I refuse to elaborate any more on the plot -- you should discover all of the amazing beats to this story on your own. Rourke, who with this performance announces to the film world that he's back for good, creates one of the most richly drawn screen characters of the decade; his work sits right next to Daniel Day Lewis in There Will Be Blood and Benicio Del Toro in Things We Lost in the Fire, performances that I consider to be some of the best in recent memory. The wrestling action is appropriately bloody and visceral; it would have been dishonest for it to be portrayed any way else. The filmmakers want you to feel exactly what it's like to be in the ring and they really bring it. Professional wrestling is one of America's favorite sources of entertainment, and there is something distinctly American about The Wrestler, even while its themes of redemption are universal. And just wait for the incredible ending – it’s absolutely true to everything that has come before it. This is tough, magnificent filmmaking, and the best American film of 2008. If Rourke doesn't take the Oscar for best actor, then it'll be a shame, and a crime.