BEST OF THE DECADE - #7: Requiem for a Dream

Requiem for a Dream (2000). Dir. Darren Aronofsky. Written by Darren Aronofsky Hubert Selby Jr., based of the novel by Hubert Selby Jr. Starring: Ellen Burstyn, Jared Leto, Jennifer Connelly, Marlon Wayans. NC-17 (intense depiction of drug addiction, graphic sexuality, strong language and some violence). Theatrical release was R and featured a less graphic sex scene, but is available as "Unrated" on DVD in its original form. Running time: 102 minutes.

Beginning in elementary school, anti-drug campaigns teach children to memorize long lists of drug symptoms without ever allowing students to fully understand the real-life consequences that these campaigns attempt to prevent. The problem, of course, is that these efforts, valiant though they may be, can only describe in words what must be seen and felt. Requiem for a Dream brings to frightening life the horrors of its characters’ lifestyles by immersing us emotionally and psychologically in their lives. Director Darren Aronofsky and editor Jay Rabinowitz compose the film in such a way that recreates the various subjective states and internal thoughts of its characters, and moves us quickly along their inevitable decline over the course of the three seasons that divide the film into three chapters. The film is a startling and disturbing experience, delivering a potent anti-drug message that worms its way into our minds and is difficult to forget.

From the opening scene, Requiem’s stylish editing calls attention to itself. Without any set-up or introduction, the film begins with Jared Leto storming into his mother’s apartment to steal her television and pawn it. His mother (Ellen Burstyn) locks herself in her room and the screen suddenly divides and becomes a split screen. The scene continues seamlessly, but we’re now both inside and outside the room at once, viewing the action on both ends. Each of Requiem’s subsequent editing tricks offers similar insights into multiple perspectives, although they frequently do so for more subjective states of mind. Aronofsky begins by using sped up visuals to illustrate the euphoric effects of various narcotics, but as dependence and withdrawal kick in, scenes slow down, change in color and abruptly cut depending on the context of the scene. Though Aronofsky employs a wide range of effects, each is carefully chosen to best evoke the symptoms the characters.

The film frequently uses montages to expedite the decay of its characters’ lives, and indeed one could even argue that the whole film is a montage, it moves along so rapidly. The final twenty-five minutes, making up the “Winter” chapter, are a blitz of intercutting that visually ties the fates of its four characters together, all the while accompanied by Clint Mansell’s heart-wrenching score. Shorter sequences in the film highlight the rituals and preparations of drug habits, dividing the steps of popping pills and shooting up into brief cuts.

Requiem’s style, however, is only a tool Aronofsky uses to better tell the story. The film gets inside our heads by recreating the small moments of our lives that only the most observant of films depict. The Burstyn scenes in particular reveal how the innermost workings of our minds function – how we only notice the No’s in a diet book (No sugar, No butter, etc.), how we play out fantasies in our heads, how we eagerly anticipate a letter in the mail. These scenes, dramatizing an addiction to diet pills, show how drugs can touch anyone, and make a strong parallel storyline to the more familiar scenes of illegal drug dealing. By breaking the film down into succinct moments, Aronofsky limits the amount of time for exposition and characterization, which allows the characters to function on an almost symbolic level. The characters become archetypes that we may fill in with our own mothers, friends and loved ones. Once we do this, Requiem’s goal becomes clear – to force us to imagine awful scenarios we would rather not think about, but should, if only to understand the horrors of a drug lifestyle gone wrong.

As an anti-drug message, Requiem for a Dream represents an extreme scenario, but never feels as if it’s preaching or being overdramatic. The film’s impact comes less in its finale – brutal and unforgiving as it is – than in following the anxiety and desperation that lead to this finale. Aronofsky uses sophisticated filmmaking techniques to evoke our innermost fears and bring out the darkest corners of our emotions. While hardly a pleasant experience and occasionally outright difficult to watch, Requiem for a Dream is undeniably powerful in a way few films are.

- Steve Avigliano, 2/4/10

BEST OF THE DECADE - #8 : Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (2004): Dir. Michel Gondry. Written by Charlie Kaufman. Starring: Jim Carrey, Kate Winslet, Kirsten Dunst, Mark Ruffalo, Elijah Wood, Tom Wilkinson. Rated R (language, some drug and sexual content). Running time: 108 min.

Film is a visual medium that has the potential to show us things few other art forms can. Too often films are adapted from books and plays without giving us something new, something visual to hold on to that wasn’t there the first time. These films are simply interpretations of their source material, and while there is nothing inherently wrong with a simple interpretation, few filmmakers strive to do what director Michel Gondry and screenwriter Charlie Kaufman do in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. Here is an original screenplay that could not be told in any other medium but film, and demands a visual presentation. There are scenes in Eternal Sunshine that almost defy a verbal description, but make instant sense visually. In its exploration of the human mind and memory, the film uses imagery to find an emotional truth outside the limitations of words on a page or actors on a stage.

The story involves a medical clinic that, for a price, erases painful memories of a loved one following a death or break-up. Clementine Kruczynski’s (Kate Winslet) once happy relationship with her boyfriend Joel Barish (Jim Carrey) has disintegrated into misery and self-loathing, and so she decides to erase the memory of him from her mind. Joel, after learning what his ex-girlfriend has done, decides to do the same and much of the film takes place within Joel’s mind during the procedure. We follow Joel as he wanders backwards through memories of Clementine and we learn the details of their relationship as the memories are erased one by one. Michel Gondry creates some mesmerizing sequences by using careful editing and subtle effects to create the appearance of Joel’s memories being erased before his eyes.

However, for all its visual trickery and nonlinear storytelling, the film’s message is surprisingly simple and direct. As mementos of Clementine vanish and the procedure steals Joel’s dearest memories away from him, Joel begins to regret his decision and comes to the understanding that not all of his memories are painful, and even the painful ones might be worth keeping. The science-fiction premise becomes a launching point to examine our relationships to those we love and our memories of them. There is also a sense of modesty to the production, and Gondry never uses a visual effect unless it advances the story or enhances the emotional themes.

Charlie Kaufman’s screenplay also avoids being showy simply for the sake of it. There are several layers to the film and not until the end do we understand how every piece fits together, but Kaufman wisely makes every scene enjoyable the first time around before revealing its relationship to the larger story. The dialogue, as expected from a Kaufman script, is sharp and frequently funny. Kaufman shows an understanding of the ways in which people interact with one another. Every relationship in the film is fully fleshed out and authentic. The script is also wonderfully layered with several deteriorating relationships shown throughout the film, and even a second memory erasure that plays a large role in the ending. Kaufman also understands the workings of the human mind. We do not store memories chronologically, but in clusters relating to a person or a feeling. Joel and Clementine’s relationship is not presented in big, meaningful moments, but rather is shown through a series of small, intimate memories, because these are the ones that tend to last. Kaufman takes the time to dramatize the aspects of our life that don’t often get treated in movies. Joel plays out conversations in his mind, creates a running commentary on his memories, and revisits past events. Kaufman’s attention to these aspects of our lives is what allows us to connect with Eternal Sunshine on a personal level.

Eternal Sunshine is a fascinating film to figure out, and multiple viewings are necessary to understand it all, but the film is ultimately an emotional experience. Gondry’s visual imagination allows Kaufman to enter the human mind and show us, with astounding insight, how our memories process love and life.

- Steve Avigliano, 2/3/10

BEST OF THE DECADE - #9: 25th Hour

25th Hour (2002): Dir. Spike Lee. Written by David Benioff and based of his novel, The 25th Hour. Starring: Ed Norton, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Barry Pepper, Rosario Dawson, Brian Cox, Anna Paquin. Rated R (strong language and some violence). Running time: 135 min.

**NOTE: This review freely discusses the film's ending, so if you do not wish to know what happens before you see it, I would recommend skipping over the second-to-last paragraph.

There’s practically a subgenre in crime films for the redemption film. Redemption films deal less with the actual crimes than with the individuals who commit them and the events that follow. 25^th Hour sounds like it could be a redemption film. A drug dealer, Monty (Ed Norton), has been caught and faces his last day before a seven-year prison sentence. Through the course of the day he talks to his girlfriend (Rosario Dawson) about their future, has lunch his father (Brian Cox), ends relations with the Russian mobsters he worked for and finally meets up with his childhood friends, Jacob and Frank (Phillip Seymour Hoffman and Barry Pepper) for one last night out. However, Spike Lee’s film, based on a novel by David Benioff (who also penned the screenplay), does not allow Monty any redemption. The film instead takes the events of his final day and makes them emotionally engrossing by focusing less on plot than on honestly portraying its characters and their situations. Just as life does not wrap things up neatly for us, not all loose ends are tied before the final scene.

Casting a long shadow over the film are the attacks of September 11, 2001. As a New York filmmaker, Spike Lee cannot ignore the events, and sets the film, his first since the attacks, in early 2002 as Americans begin to move on and live their lives again. The opening titles make this expressly clear, featuring beautiful shots of the New York skyline during the initial run of the “Tribute of Light” memorial that cast beams of light into the night sky to symbolize the fallen towers. Later, Lee presents us with a chilling shot of Ground Zero as seen from Frank’s apartment window. Lee keeps the wreckage in the shot as Frank and Jacob discuss air pollution in the city following the attack before eventually moving onto the main subject at hand, Monty. Lee acknowledges that 9/11 happened but never calls attention to it so much that it obscures the plot. Just as people did in the months following 9/11, the characters of 25^th Hour continue to live their lives, albeit in a city that has suffered a great loss.

Life in a post-9/11 world is treated again in the memorable “Fuck You” scene that has Monty responding to bathroom graffiti by going off on a cathartic rant that indicts the many races and peoples of New York, his friends, his family and Osama Bin Laden. The scene recalls the racial slur sequence from Lee’s Do the Right Thing but where that scene highlights the film’s racial tensions, this scene focuses on Monty’s personalized anger and hatefulness. Like so many Americans, Monty needs to blame someone for the misery in his life and he points a finger at all the familiar scapegoats until he ultimately turns the rant back onto himself and takes responsibility for his actions.

Ed Norton’s performance in the film is deceivingly restrained, and Norton makes Monty a calm man with deep undercurrents of fear, suspicion and resentment. However, the best performances here come from Philip Seymour Hoffman and Barry Pepper. Hoffman’s committed portrayal to his lonely high school teacher justifies the tangential storyline about an inappropriate relationship with a young student (Anna Paquin), and Pepper, who for years has been an excellent character actor, has something of a breakout role here. His sleazy Wall Street trader disappears into backrooms with waitresses but has an intense loyalty to his friends that comes out in the final scenes.

Brian Cox, who only appears in two scenes, conveys depths of history between father and son. In the devastating final scene, he offers Monty a glimpse of how life might have been and narrates an alternate future for his son. As he drives Monty to the prison he offers to turn off the highway and take the blame for allowing his son to run away. The extended scene that follows is a fantasy of the American dream – moving to the country, opening a business, raising a family – and Lee shoots it in such a way that we’re not sure if the events are actually happening. When the scene cuts back to Monty in the present, the crushing reality of the next seven years sets in. There is no second chance, no redemption. The fantasy remains the lost opportunity of what might have happened if Monty chose to live a better life.

At 135 minutes, the movie might be overlong, and it drags a bit in the middle, but there are moments of greatness here that stand next to Spike Lee’s best work. In the opening scene, Monty saves a dying dog and gives him a home, suggesting the possibility of his own redemption, but by the film’s end, there is no one to save him, no second chance to be had. 25^th Hour makes its characters face reality, and reality, it should go without saying, is rarely kind.

- Steve Avigliano, 2/2/10

BEST OF THE DECADE - #10: Kill Bill Vol. 1 & 2

Kill Bill Vol. 1 & 2 (2003-2004): Written and Directed by Quentin Tarantino. Starring: Uma Thurman, David Carradine, Daryl Hannah, Michael Madsen, Lucy Liu, Vivica A. Fox. Rated R. Running time: 111 min. (Vol. 1), 136 min. (Vol. 2).

Quentin Tarantino was a critic’s darling in the early 90’s after Reservoir Dogs and Pulp Fiction elevated the gangster genre with smart writing and tight filmmaking. His underrated 1997 effort Jackie Brown disappointed some fans, but the maturity and focus of that film kept him within the good graces of critics. In 2003, however, the director found himself facing considerable backlash with the release of Kill Bill Vol. 1. Some of these criticisms came from Tarantino’s usual detractors, but perhaps just as many came from those who admired his previous works. The arguments made about his other films seemed doubly true here – he steals from other films, revels in violence, and self-indulgently over-stylizes. Kill Bill is a deliberate tribute to the director’s favorite movies – that forgotten back catalogue of exploitation flicks, kung fu and spaghetti westerns collecting dust in your local video store – in an effort to highlight the best of these films and maybe even get us to rent one (although these days even your local video store is becoming an antique). Tarantino makes no effort to hide what he’s doing. Every trick he pulls is out in the open, bringing attention to itself. Call it self-indulgent, call it meta-cinema; regardless, it works. The Kill Bill films are stylized candy – they have little pretense of being much more than that – but oh, what gourmet candy they are.

Despite the impressive style of the Kill Bill films, many critics lamented a loss of Tarantino’s storytelling skills that were so treasured before. In place of his witty, colorful dialogue are intentionally cheesy one-liners and stilted conversations about revenge and “unfinished business.” However, evocation of the aforementioned B-movies aside, the dialogue here retains a Tarantino-ian air in its crispness and clarity. Despite his reputation, Tarantino is a remarkably patient filmmaker. His characters don’t just kill each other – they talk about it first. The script borrows much of the hamminess of B-movies, but Tarantino infuses it with humor, pop culture jokes and self-awareness. At one point Uma Thurman’s voiceover introduces us to a character as the woman “dressed like she’s a villain on Star Trek.” But isn’t Tarantino the one who dressed her? The film pokes fun at its own style and never takes itself too seriously. Take a scene from Vol. 2, for example, where Bill and Budd discuss the Bride’s bloody fight with a gang of kung-fu warriors known as the Crazy 88. Budd wonders how she could have cut through all 88 of them. Bill responds that “there weren’t really 88 of them, they just call themselves the Crazy 88.” “How come?” Budd asks. “I don’t know,” Bill shrugs, “I guess they thought it sounded cool.” Tarantino is enamored with these cool films, but he also parodies them and understands that it’s all for the sake of fun.

Though these are not films to be taken seriously, Tarantino scores some genuinely touching moments at the end of Vol. 2 when Uma Thurman discovers that her 4-year-old daughter is alive and living with her father, Bill. Here Tarantino drops much of the imitation and writes some of his best dialogue, including a child’s understanding of life and death, and an insightful analysis of Superman. He digs underneath the seemingly shallow action that precedes these moments and reveals actual characters with convincing motivations. Of course, they still exist in Movie Land, but Tarantino finds the heart of cinema’s artificiality in a way that few filmmakers do. In one scene, Thurman talks a female assassin out of killing her by showing the woman a positive pregnancy test she took moments before the assassin arrived to kill her. The scene, both tense and funny, is not borrowed from anywhere, but is wholly Tarantino.

Many have stated that the films, particularly Vol. 1, are all style and no substance. But since when is style not substantial? Problems arise in highly stylized films only when the director does not know how to handle these stylistic devices. The Kill Bill films are filled with such tricks, featuring several scenes in black-and-white, one shot in a 4:3 aspect ratio, another entirely in anime, superimposed text, split screen, etc. And these are only the post-production additions. Tarantino uses the camera in bold ways, such as an extended tracking shot through a Japanese restaurant and surprising angles that defamiliarize otherwise typical fight scenes. You could call him reckless if every shot wasn’t so carefully put together. The soundtrack makes up another essential aspect of the film’s style. Tarantino showcases his usual knack for unearthing lost musical gems, adding here Ennio Morricone themes, funky selections from kung fu scores and original music (a rarity for Tarantino) by the RZA and Robert Rodriguez.

Is he showing off? Yes, but it’s hard to complain when a director has this level of proficiency and knowledge of film. Tarantino is as familiar with the style of French New Wave as he is Blaxploitation, and he throws everything together as if the boundaries of time and geography are merely illusory – which they are. Though the films do not expressly preach, there is an argument to be found here, one that is familiar to anyone who has ever tried to defend a film for its entertainment value alone. The Kill Bill films are sophisticated executions of trashy genres, blurring the line between high and low culture until the line is no longer visible. All filmmakers borrow from those who came before them. Such is the nature of art. By making his influences explicit and revealing his process, he celebrates the craft of film – old and new, high and low, all together.

Kill Bill, as one cohesive project, is more focused than it first appears. Tarantino takes the time to build his own mythology and flesh out the history of his characters. The film was divided into two releases due to length, and Tarantino makes the division work (there is a clear tonal shift between Vol. 1 and 2). On DVD, however, you can kick back and watch it all at once, letting the style of this self-proclaimed “gory story” wash over you. Stylized candy it may be, but if I’m going to rot my teeth out – and I most assuredly will – I want it to be at the hands of the finest confectioner in the world.

- Steve Avigliano, 2/1/10

BEST OF THE DECADE - Introduction

Here we sit in 2010, a futuristic number to be sure, and yet the world doesn’t look quite like the future yet. In the ten years since Y2K, little has changed. We don’t have flying cars yet (although according to Back to the Future II, those don’t arrive until 2015), nor do we have robots to serve us (those are coming in 2104 according to A.I.), and the government isn’t tracking our every move (assuming Minority Report is correct, this technology doesn’t come until 2054). And here I am, 20 years old, still comparing my life to Steven Spielberg-produced science-fiction movies. No, it doesn’t appear that much has changed at all in the last decade. 2010 is rather a lot like 2000, except for the fact, I guess, that I own an iPod now. As Bilbo Baggins might say, change comes slowly if it comes at all. However, we don’t need a major change to warrant a glance backwards. All we need is a nice, round number.

So the list that follows is my top 10 of the last 10 years – the 00s. The movies on this list are not a retrospect of the last decade in film, but are my personal choices for the Top 10 of the 2000s – the films I had a personal reaction to and have stayed with me after multiple viewings. I’ll be going through the list one day at a time, posting a full-length review for each – my argument for the canonization of each film.

For this particular list, I’ve decided to stick only to American films. While there were certainly many great foreign films released in the last ten years (City of God (2002) and The Lives of Others (2006) are two that come to mind as being among my favorites), I don’t feel that I would be able to accurately represent the overwhelming wealth of quality that global cinema has to offer. So I’ll stick to the market I know well and have been following closely for the last decade.

A few interesting points before we begin the list: Five of the films on the list could be considered crime films, a whopping eight were based on books (one of those is a bit of a stretch though), and two of them feature fight scenes where a villain swings a spiked ball on a chain – I’m as surprised to say that as you are to read it.

But enough teasers. Let’s kick things off with the Honorable Mention – ten more great films that didn’t make the list, but are still among my favorites released in the last decade. In alphabetical order, they are: Almost Famous (2000), The Dark Knight (2008), Finding Nemo (2003), Inglourious Basterds (2009), Jarhead (2005), Match Point (2005), Minority Report (2002), Mystic River (2003), The Royal Tenenbaums (2001), and Zodiac (2007).

And now we start the list with number 10…

- Steve Avigliano, 2/1/10

REVIEW: Up in the Air

Up in the Air (2009): Dir. Jason Reitman. Written by: Sheldon Turner and Jason Reitman. Based on a novel by Walter Kim. Starring: George Clooney, Vera Farmiga, Anna Kendrick. Rated R (language and some sexual content). Running time: 109 minutes.

4 stars (out of four)

There’s a sense of exhilaration that comes with independence. Moving at your own pace, doing what you want to do, setting goals and accomplishing them without the help of others. Being on your own might be the only way to truly learn about yourself, to find your identity underneath the mess of personal, social, business and all other relationships. This philosophy is one shared by Ryan Bingham, whose motivational speeches encourage attendees to imagine their life in a backpack. The fewer things and people in the backpack, the faster you move. But there’s a blurred line between independence and loneliness not addressed in Bingham’s speech, and it is this line that Up in the Air examines.

Ryan Bingham, played with characteristic cockiness (or is it charm?) by George Clooney, works for a company that serves as the middleman for corporations across the country who seek to lay off their employees. Men and women like Bingham meet with the soon-to-be-terminated employees, inform them of their company’s decision and present them with a self-help packet of new opportunities available in life after the pink slip. Bingham has perfected his job to an art. He enjoys it. He loves the constant movement of traveling, informing us that he’s on the road over 300 days a year, and he’s a great talker. Bingham, from his brutal profession to his self-isolating ideology, has all the components of an immensely unlikable character, and yet we’re drawn to him, even admiring him for his calculated efficiency. Clooney’s casting is key and without it, the humorous asides, the self-congratulation and all of Bingham’s narration would fall flat. Director Jason Reitman understands the importance of casting a charming actor as his unlikable protagonist. Aaron Eckhart’s performance as a tobacco lobbyist in Reitman’s 2006 film, Thank You For Smoking, succeeds in making an otherwise despicable man a delight. Clooney’s performance isn’t anything new for him as an actor – Clooney knows a thing or two about turning up the charm – but the script allows for a more complex characterization than Danny Ocean. There’s truth in Bingham’s motivational speeches, but there’s more to him than his lecturing lets on.

These hidden layers start to reveal themselves with the help of Bingham’s two foils: Alex Goran (Vera Farmiga), a fellow corporate travel addict who presents the possibility to Bingham of finding a soulmate, and young Natalie Keener (Anna Kendrick), a new employee at the company who steps on Bingham’s toes by suggesting the company go online to cut travel costs. Farmiga, whose fine performance in The Departed was overshadowed by that film’s stars, exudes a cool confidence in her early scenes with Clooney and gradually reveals real compassion. She brings more to the table than simply being the romantic interest by creating an honest portrayal of a businesswoman closing in on middle aged. Kendrick plays Natalie just under a caricature, balancing her ruthlessness with romantic naiveté as Bingham takes her under his wing to show her the ropes of the business. Jason Bateman proves himself reliable as always in a supporting role as Bingham’s boss, and character actors J.K. Simmons and Zach Galifianakis have memorable cameos as well in a scene apiece.

Much of the film’s success comes from Reitman’s style as a director. Every stylistic choice he makes enriches the themes and characters. He uses quick cuts as Bingham explains the packing process to emphasize his efficiency and moves the movie along at a brisk pace without sacrificing more tender scenes. Too often so-called “dramadies,” such as Up in the Air, treat the tone of a scene as falling in either the comedy camp or drama, and they lurch back and forth between the two genres until the movie ends. Reitman, however, understands the need to show how the two tones intertwine, crafting moments that are simultaneously humorous and poignant.

The film also makes good use of its soundtrack, using pop songs to underscore themes of travel and isolation. The opening title sequence, for example, pairs aerial photos with Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings’ funkified version of “This Land Is Your Land” as a way of introducing Bingham’s pioneer attitude while providing an ironic introduction to corporate America’s industrialized land.

Some might argue that the film’s theme of downsizing and its topical references to a poor economic climate might keep the film from attaining a timeless status, but its emotional core remains the primary focus. Reitman creates a dialogue between Bingham’s backpack philosophy and the more romantic belief in the importance of building an emotional connection with another person. Up in the Air successfully gives us a capsule of our moment in time and shows us the humanity of it. And isn’t that what all films should do?

- Steve Avigliano, 12/30/09

REVIEW: Avatar

Avatar (2009): Written and Directed by James Cameron. Starring: Sam Worthington, Zoe Saldaña, Sigourney Weaver, Stephen Lang, Joel David Moore, Michelle Rodriguez. Rated PG-13 (intense epic battle sequences and warfare, sensuality and language). Running time: 161 minutes.

3 stars (out of four)

** Note: I saw the film in its IMAX 3D version at an AMC theater.

James Cameron has been a pioneer of computer effects since 1989’s The Abyss and each of his successive films, including Terminator 2 and Titanic, has brought the technology to new heights. Avatar is the next great leap forward, featuring the most sophisticated use of computer animation and motion-capture technology yet, the result of a labor of love that dates back to 1994. Unlike previous Cameron outings, however, the movie lacks a strong script. The consistently impressive visuals are not quite enough to keep the story from becoming underwhelming in its familiarity.

In Avatar’s distant future, the people of Earth have found their way to the forest moon of Pandora, where a mining operation is underway in pursuit of the unimaginatively titled mineral, unobtanium. Dr. Grace Augustine, played by Cameron-vet Sigourney Weaver, leads a research team to explore the world and communicate with the natives, big blue humanoids called the Na’vi. Her team remotely controls genetically created Na’vi imitations called Avatars to establish better relations with the alien race, but their peaceful efforts are continuously hindered by a military presence led by Colonel Quaritch (Stephen Lang). The Colonel’s brutal pep talk to his Marines consists of reminding them of their perpetual risk of death on Pandora. Caught between the two is disabled Marine, Jake Sully (Sam Worthington), who flies to Pandora after his deceased brother leaves a vacancy in the Avatar program. Sully’s recruitment is twofold, using his Avatar to learn about Na’vi culture, while also acquiring information regarding the location of unobtanium fields for Quaritch. It’s not long before Sully falls for Na’vi life and a Na’vi female (Zoe Saldaña), and suffers the moral conflict that comes with double agency.

The film’s plot, boiled down to its essentials is a familiar one, placing the emotional conflict of Dances With Wolves into a setting not unlike Return of the Jedi’s Endor, while preaching an environmental message much like that of Fern Gully. Though Cameron’s visual imagination in creating the alien world keeps the film from feeling stale, his script too often uses these borrowed elements as a crutch. One gets the impression that Cameron focused all his energy on the look of Pandora, leaving the story an assortment of used parts. The film’s most narratively interesting moments come in its midsection as Jake Sully struggles with issues of identity switching between his human body and Avatar counterpart. Worthington, who was a lifeless statue earlier this year in Terminator: Salvation, brings a compelling everyman quality to Sully in a heartfelt performance. Once Sully’s assimilation into the Na’vi tribe is complete, however, the script shifts onto the usual track, ending with a climatic battle against the humans for Pandora.

Aside from Sully, all of Avatar’s characters are archetypes except perhaps for Dr. Augustine, but Sigourney Weaver never manages to fully sell her character’s tougher side. Michelle Rodriguez appears as a Marine pilot, a strangely underdeveloped character considering the pivotal role she plays near the film’s end. Though the film runs long at 161 minutes, the narrative moves quickly, relying heavily on montages and condensed exposition. Cameron’s original cut of the film is said to have been well over 3 hours, and one wonders if the cut scenes would have strengthened its characters and pacing. While an extended running time might help, it would not rectify all of Avatar’s problems. Much of the film’s dialogue is clichéd and the ending features a deus ex machina bigger (in more ways than one) than Return of the King’s eagle saviors.

All of these concerns become moot, however, in Avatar’s visual presentation. More than once I was wowed by breathtaking panoramic shots, and the motion capture animation is thoroughly convincing at all times. Cameron crafts moments of sheer awe without ever flaunting his technology simply because he has the capability to. Like the Star Wars films, the visual effects stem from endless creativity in the shaping of a colorful, fully realized world. Avatar’s divergences into the life and culture of Pandora make up its most thrilling moments. Cameron provides several memorable action sequences, not the least of which is the final battle – both absorbing and gleefully over-the-top. Where other action films get queasy in their kinetic editing, Avatar features crisp cuts and remembers to engage the audience in the fun. That this is Cameron’s first non-documentary film since 1997 is a shame considering the multitude of disappointing action flicks that have passed through theaters in the last twelve years.

But the delay was not in vein, and Cameron has supposedly developed new types of digital cameras and 3D technology in preparation for Avatar’s release. As far as the 3D presentation of Avatar goes, I’m still not convinced that the trend is much more than a gimmick. While the gimmick is expertly used here, the uncomfortable glasses and the frequent jerkiness of the picture onscreen – most noticeable in dialogue scenes – remain distracting. The 3D experience attempts to immerse the audience in the action, but I found the extra dimension kept me at a distance from the film. I’m impressed enough by computer animation in two dimensions and, for me, using my two eyes alone remains the definitive way to watch a movie.

Nevertheless, Avatar is the result of supreme craftsmanship and, at the very least, will be remembered for its innovative and seamless use of computer animation. In this regard, Avatar earns placement next to other effects-laden epic films such as Star Wars and Lord of the Rings, but the film lacks the characters and story that make those films timeless. Then again, maybe Avatar will prove itself to be a worthy first installment of a longer franchise. Only time and another $300 million dollars will tell.

- Steve Avigliano, 12/27/09

REVIEW: Paranormal Activity

Paranormal Activity (2009): Written and Directed by Oren Peli. Starring: Katie Featherston, Micah Sloat, Mark Fredrichs. Rated R (language). Running time: 86 minutes

3 ½ stars (out of four)

Apparently reality is the only thing that can truly scare us anymore. Over the past several years, there’s been a growing subgenre of horror films that create pseudo-realities out of handheld cameras and amateur actors. Starting ten years ago with The Blair Witch Project, and more the more recent Quarantine based on the Spanish REC, these films could be seen as a reaction to the disgusting unreality of the ever-popular torture porn movies. They are bringing the suspense and terror back to a genre that has recently been confusing squeamishness for real fright.

Paranormal Activity follows this trend of simulating home videos, even going so far as leaving out a title sequence and end credits. The home movie in questions accounts the haunting of college undergrad Katie, who claims to have been followed her whole life by an evil spirit, which we learn from a psychic to be a demon. Micah, Katie’s live-in boyfriend, hopes to catch the demon on camera while they sleep and even try to get it out of his house. For the purposes of this film, he captures every part of the process with a high-quality video and sound system.

The film’s mockumentary style is hardly innovative, but what makes Paranormal Activity so remarkable is the way it plays on our expectations for a horror film, and subverts them in every scene. Writer/director Oren Peli deconstructs the genre to its most basic elements, putting new twists on classic tricks and continually surprising us with simple but effective filmmaking.

The structure of the film systematically winds up the audience by building tension in its night scenes (when the demon comes out) and providing release in the daytime scenes. Peli conditions the audience with this pattern of tension, release, tension, release, until the demon starts creating mayhem in the daytime and there is no relief to be found by the light of day. The actual paranormal activity in the film gradually builds in intensity, beginning with a simple swing of the door and later escalating to more horrific occurrences.

Each of these scares, particularly those in the night-cam shots, is carefully created with simple tricks of lighting and editing, but they’re effective in their simplicity. After a tense anticipatory build-up, a mere shadow on the wall is enough to cause a jolt. Paranormal Activity, which was shot in a week in Peli’s house on a minimal budget, is a testament to my theory that the scariest films are those made on a low budget.

Katie Featherston and Micah Sloat, who use their actual names in the film, give naturalistic performances that succeed in enhancing the film’s verisimilitude without growing tedious. Underneath their improvised dialogue and true-to-life reactions however, they play stock horror film characters: the comely, vulnerable girl and her cocky, self-assured boyfriend. That Peli hides these artifices under the guise of a home movie makes the film all the more impressive.

Along with Drag Me to Hell, this is the second horror film in a year to feature demons as its specter of choice and I’m wondering if they’re not currently the most ripe with frightful potential. Zombies and ghosts have had more than their fair share of the market (don’t even get me started on vampires) and seem to be capable of creating real mystery, something lacking in most of today’s horror fare. Paranormal Activity has so far received a limited release, but will be enjoying a wider release this weekend – just in time for Halloween. Now if a film like this could take even a small bite out of Saw VI’s box office, I would rest easier in my demon-plagued bed.

- Steve Avigliano, 10/13/09

You May Have Missed...

The following are three movies released this year that are no longer in theaters, but either will be on DVD soon or already are.

Ponyo - 3 stars (out of four)

An unusual and wonderful fantasy about a magical fish, Ponyo, who eventually becomes a little girl on land and befriends a kindergarten-aged boy named Sōsuke. Ponyo is much more of a children’s story than past Miyazaki films and so the film is imbued with a sense of innocence. Despite its relatively straightforward narrative, Ponyo’s animation has a strangeness to it that takes the film to a place of playful inventiveness uncommon in most children’s movies. The American voice-over actors are even pretty good, including Liam Neeson, Tina Fey and the youngest siblings of Miley Cyrus and the Jonas Brothers (don’t worry: they’re cute enough as the kids’ voice and they only sing in the credits). Ponyo may not be the strongest film Miyazaki has made, but it’s a charming adventure and better than just about every animated film that doesn’t have the word “Pixar” attached to it. Ponyo is not yet available on DVD in the United States.

Adventureland - 3 ½ stars (out of four)

Greg Mottola’s follow-up to 2007’s Superbad isn’t as funny as its predecessor, but it’s not intended to be. Adventureland is more heartfelt and arguably the better film. That’s not to say Adventureland isn’t funny – Mottola’s autobiographical take on summer jobs, trashy amusement parks and young romance are all the funnier in their true-to-life honesty. The movie stars Jesse Eisenberg as James, essentially a matured version of the Michael Cera character, and Kristen Stewart as his romantic foil (I promise, she only makes the Twilight-mope face in a few scenes). Along with a number of great supporting roles, including SNL-ers Bill Hader and Kritsen Wiig, Adventureland pulls off a rare feat: it is an emotionally resonant and memorably hilarious movie. Adventureland is now available on DVD.

Angels and Demons - 1 ½ stars (out of four)

2006’s The DaVinci Code was everything the book was: hokey, full of plot holes and largely mindless in spite of its lofty ambitions as a thinking man’s action film. Angels and Demons is all that and more: a disastrous example of what happens when the talents in front of and behind the camera are only in it for the paycheck. Tom Hanks has gotten a haircut, but his performance is almost entirely camp. As director, Ron Howard does little to make the hackneyed script bearable, although the script does remove author Dan’s Brow’s final absurd twist (where the Pope is revealed to have a child). The movie would be tolerable if it weren’t for the film’s stubborn insistence of credibility. Its scientific storyline about anti-matter is as ridiculous as its attempts to provide historical and religious insight. I’d recommend it as unintentional entertainment if it weren’t an interminable 140 minutes long. But if someone puts together a good YouTube compilation like The Wicker Man, by all means, check it out. Angels and Demons will be available on DVD November 24.

- Steve Avigliano, 10/12/09

REVIEW: Inglourious Basterds

Inglourious Basterds (2009): Written & Directed by Quentin Tarantino. Starring Brad Pitt, Mélanie Laurent, Christoph Waltz, Michael Fassbender, Eli Roth, Diane Kruger, Daniel Brühl, Til Schweiger. Rated R (strong graphic violence, language and brief sexuality). Running time: 153 minutes.

4 stars (out of four)

Just two years ago, it seemed as though Quentin Tarantino, in his second decade of filmmaking, had resigned to reviving forgotten cult movie genres. The Kill Bill films, while brilliant in their own respect, emphasize style as much as they do plot, and are essentially pastiches of the many B-movies Tarantino has assimilated through a lifetime of movie watching. Death Proof, his contribution to the exploitation throwback Grindhouse, is trashy fun with a feminist bent, but its ultimate goal is still emulation. There was even talk of him making a kung-fu film to be shot entirely in Mandarin that never came to fruition. Inglourious Basterds too bares the director’s love of movies, but it also allows Tarantino to return to what he truly does best: storytelling.

At first it seems as if Inglourious Basterds is going to follow in Pulp Fiction’s narrative footsteps; the film is divided into chapters that initially seem disconnected. Basterds however, offers a more linear narrative and its structure is not so much episodic as it is patient. Not until the fourth chapter of five does Tarantino begin to pull the separate threads together. By the time we reach the final chapter and all the main players are gathered in one room together, the payoff is even bigger after such a gradual build. Tarantino resists intercutting the storylines, allowing scenes the time to build on their own terms, and giving each scene a greater dramatic impact. Without cutting away to another scene, there is no break in tension and we get to watch a scene slowly simmer before it boils over.

The opening scene is an excellent example this, setting the film’s pace with a long dialogue scene between high-ranking Nazi Hans Landa (Christoph Waltz) and a French farmer (Denis Menochet). The dialogue here crackles with tension as Landa takes his time with pleasantries before getting down to business. Also impressive is how this scene, as well as many others in the film, is not only dialogue-driven, but primarily subtitled. As it was in Nazi-occupied France, characters move between French, German and English depending on the setting and company. As the scene gradually unravels, we learn the purpose of Landa’s visit to the farm: to learn the whereabouts of a Jewish family that has been eluding the SS for months. Christoph Waltz, a relatively unknown Austrian TV actor, commands attention from his first moments onscreen, remaining calm throughout his investigation and relishing the tense silence. There is an immediate understanding that this is an intelligent man very good at his job, and his performance retains this foreboding presence throughout the film.

After an impressive opener, the film introduces the Basterds, a rogue troop of Jewish-American soldiers led by Aldo Raine (Brad Pitt brandishing a Southern accent and some fine comedic timing) whose goal is to instill fear in the Nazis by brutally killing every German soldier they come across. Oh yeah, and scalping them too. The Basterds’ storyline is the stylistic heart of the movie, indulging in flashbacks, montages and even a brief narration by Samuel L. Jackson. Though Tarantino pulls out all his best tricks here, the stylization never eclipses the scenes’ intent. He has great fun with the Basterds but never overdoes anything. As for the scalping, it’s all part of Tarantino’s endless cinematic invention. His characters exist in a self-aware movie world where such things are just a fact of war.

Finally, the movie introduces us to the other major player, French cinema-owner Shosanna Dreyfus, and Tarantino’s requisite strong female character (there’s actually two in this movie). Dreyfus is hiding her Jewish heritage under an alias, but after earning the affection of German soldier Frederick Zoller (Daniel Brühl, Good Bye Lenin!), she finds herself in a unique position both dangerous and influential. The details of what happens next need not be discussed here. The fun of Inglourious Basterds is the way it unspools in surprising directions and weaves its characters’ paths together.

This being a Tarantino film, Inglourious Basterds features great music, albeit less prominently featured than in the director’s previous movies. The soundtrack is often submerged in the background, comprised largely of scores from spaghetti westerns, with the exception of a well-placed Bowie song. It’s all part of Tarantino’s restraint as a director, keeping the focus on a given scene’s action.

Those expecting a historical depiction of WWII should be warned: the war is used only as a backdrop for Tarantino’s story. He is much more interested in the culture-clash dynamics that result when one country occupies another than he is in combat action, and while the film has its share of violent moments, none occur on the battlefield. Tarantino uses history to tell his story rather than the other way around and to say that he takes a liberty or two with historical accuracy is an exercise in understatement. This is a revenge story uninterested in creating a sympathetic view of the Nazis and it plays by its own rules.

Inglourious Basterds combines the inventive stylization and offbeat humor of Pulp Fiction with the maturity and restraint of Tarantino’s underrated Jackie Brown, while also adding a newfound sense of ambition that allows the film to reach heights previously unseen by the director. If this isn’t Tarantino’s best film, it easily stands alongside his best, and he knows it too. He all but calls the film his masterpiece twice, but when a director’s self-assuredness works this well, his cockiness only adds to the film’s charm.

- Steve Avigliano, 9/1/09