As SIFF continues, Glenn and Daniel check out the highly anticipated time travel comedy Safety Not Guaranteed, which comes home to Seattle along with much of its cast and crew. Then they jump out of their seats and run to the next auditorium to pose as film critics in a packed screening of Bart Layton‘s utterly fascinating documentary/thriller, The Imposter.

May contain NSFW language.

FilmWonk rating (Safety Not Guaranteed): 6/10
FilmWonk rating (The Imposter): 9/10

Show notes:

• (00:00) Review: Safety Not Guaranteed
• (06:45) Spoilers: Safety Not Guaranteed (although we somewhat spoil the Jake Johnson subplot starting at 05:38)
• (13:22) Review: The Imposter
• (19:56) Spoilers: The Imposter
• Correction: I mistakenly refer to Colin Trevorrow as a first-time director. In fact, he has a few prior credits, including this amusing short from 2002.
• For some reason, there’s a vague spoiler for the 7th season finale of House (at 08:12). Thanks for that, Daniel.
• But later, Daniel redeems himself by mentioning the Ninja Kitty video, which is definitely worth watching.
• Nerd quibble: Aragorn decapitated an Uruk-hai, not a Nazgul.
• Unfortunately, there was no trailer available for The Imposter, so we included a brief clip from the SXSW interview with director Bart Layton, available in its entirety here.
• We refer to the Taylor University van crash case, in which a college student named Whitney Cerak was misidentified as another student who died (even mistaken by the victim’s family).
• I was referring to this guy in this movie. Kudos to anyone who got this utterly pointless reference.

Listen above, or download: Safety Not Guaranteed/The Imposter (right-click, save as).

As the Seattle International Film Festival continues, Glenn and Daniel give a quick review of a harrowing drama from the co-founder of…Homestar Runner? Okay! A warning for the spoiler-averse… As this is based on true events (and sticks largely to the real-life story), we aren’t shy about spoilers, but we do give a warning before revealing the film’s ending.

Contains NSFW language and some disturbing content.

FilmWonk rating: 7/10 (Glenn), 8/10 (Daniel)

Show notes:

• Once again – due to to the quick turnaround for SIFF content, this podcast was recorded without our usual setup – but the audio quality is solid! I have it on good authority that a modern automobile makes an excellent recording booth.
• More info on Stanley Milgram’s experiment.
• We praise the caller’s performance, but not by name – the actor’s name was Pat Healy.

Listen above, or download: Compliance (right-click, save as).

Studio Ghibli’s 1991 film Only Yesterday, from writer/director Isao Takahata and producer Hiyao Miyazaki, was a theatrical hit in Japan, but has not made it to US theatrical or home release. And after seeing it, I certainly have a guess why. This quiet, reflective film about childhood is conceived through the narrative lens and perspective of an adult woman, Taeko (voiced by Miki Imai), looking back upon her years in primary school. It is not precisely a film for adults or a film for children, and as such must be incredibly difficult to market.

Like every Ghibli film, the hand-drawn animation is simply gorgeous. There is a magnificent array of emotion visible on the children’s faces – when the young Taeko (voiced by Youko Honna) gives you the stink-eye, you’ll know it. Likewise, when she’s trying desperately to affect enjoyment while eating an unripe (but expensive) pineapple, you’ll know it. The resulting “performances” would be breathtaking coming from child actors, and are masterful works of art here. There is also a clever animated framing device wherein the adult Taeko imagines her childhood self and classmates literally following her around as she heads out to the countryside for a bit of agro-tourism. This leads to a heartbreakingly beautiful moment at the film’s end in which she is forced to make an important choice.

Unfortunately, the only weak link is the adult Taeko. Apart from her recent breakup and monotonous office job, we never really get to know her beyond her obsessive navel-gazing. So her dilemma about how to continue her relatively aimless life does not resonate nearly as well as it could if we had a better idea of how this vivacious 10-year-old became the woman that we see before us.

While the Japanese countryside is rendered with staggering beauty (even the reflections in pothole puddles are gorgeous), this narrative gulf between the two versions of Taeko is enough to hold back the “present day” (1980s) material from being nearly as interesting as it is pretty. Conversely, the childhood (1960s) sequences are exciting and rife with nostalgia (watch for an appearance by the Beatles singing in Japanese*!). The soundtrack is marvelous and expansive, ranging from classical tunes (including one of my favorites, Brahms’ Hungarian Dance) to more contemporaneous selections, including a lovely Japanese rendition of Bette Midler’s “The Rose“, which is put to great use.

Despite its shortcomings, Only Yesterday is an earnest and heartfelt character piece, well worth seeing if you can find it in the US (apparently it’s available on Region 2 DVD on Amazon).

FilmWonk rating: 7 out of 10

* CORRECTION: Upon further research, I was unable to find any record of The Beatles actually performing in Japanese, (although there seem to be a fair number of Japanese Beatles cover bands!). The Beatles are mentioned by name during this montage, but the song appears to be “Omoide No Nagisa“, a 1966 song by The Wild Ones (source).

Directed by Matthew Lillard
Written by Michael M.B. Galvin and Peter Speakman, based on the novel by K.L. Going

I’ve rolled my eyes on multiple occasions while reading the end-of-year Top 10 lists from various NYC and Chicago critics, as they invariably include one locally shot gem that thoroughly sums up the ineffable experience of living in their precious city. I never wanted to be that guy. And yet, director Matthew Lillard has forced my hand with an adaptation that is so quintessentially Seattle in its depiction of lovable losers and their various musical hopes and dreams, it would be against my very nature to dislike it.

Troy Billings (Jacob Wysocki) is an overwei- well, a fat kid – who decides to end it all by stepping in front of a downtown bus. He gets shoved out of the way at the last second by Marcus (Matt O’Leary), a strung-out, hyperactive kid who may or may not attend Troy’s school, and who immediately demands $20 in exchange for his lifesaving act. Wysocki’s performance is nicely understated, and the character is written with a deft understanding of being an adolescent outcast. But the real scene-stealer is O’Leary, whose performance strikes just the right blend of instability, delusion, and charisma. Marcus is, to all outward appearances, a homeless, unreliable, loser drug addict. For all of his promises about upcoming shows at Neumos – a fairly prestigious real-life Seattle venue just three blocks from the theater in which I saw this film – all of his grand plans to form a punk band with Troy seem like nothing but self-serving fantasy.

And yet, despite Troy’s credible degree of self-awareness about the situation, he is still swept up in the power and dangerous allure of the music world. The film has a darkly comedic streak throughout, but I would largely call it a drama, especially due to the treatment of Troy’s father, whom we know only as Mr. Billings (Billy Campbell). Campbell (whom I’ll admit I mistook for Ray Liotta in his first scene) gives an outstanding performance as Troy’s father, an ex-Marine and widower. Mr. Billings is a complicated hardass, to put it mildly. He loves his boys and misses his wife, and he’s deeply worried about his son’s choice of friends. And yet, he seems committed to doing the right thing, even if that means potentially taking on Marcus as the undeniable burden that he will be. I can’t overstate how refreshing I find this character and performance. I’ve seen such a staggering number of boring, one-note hardass fathers on film over the years (hell, Fred Ward has made a career out of playing them!). To see such a fresh and credible take on the character strikes me as nothing short of miraculous.

Fat Kid is a marvelous study in contradictions. It exemplifies the lonely and depressing experience of being an adolescent outsider, and yet feels incredibly empowering and uplifting by the end. It celebrates the complex notion of doing right by the people in our lives, even if they seem almost certain to disappoint us. As a musical coming-of-age film, it makes a nice pairing with Almost Famous.

FilmWonk rating: 8 out of 10

This podcast contains spoilers for The Avengers and The Dark Knight. This week on the podcast, Glenn, Daniel, and special guest Sarah get together for a spoilery second look at Marvel’s The Avengers. While Glenn still stands by his 8/10 review, Daniel has other opinions, and if there’s one thing we love at the FilmWonk Podcast, it’s sowing discord. Find out if these three heroes can unite and save the cinematic world below!

May contain NSFW language.

FilmWonk rating: 8/10 (Glenn), 5/10 (Daniel)

Show notes:

• This episode was meant as a quick one-off, so it will unfortunately be a bit less polished than our usual episodes. Although my phone has a surprisingly good microphone!
• Correction: A dutiful listener has pointed out that one of my supposed “continuity errors” is flat-out wrong. Stark and Banner get into the convertible, while Rogers takes off on the motorcycle. Mea culpa! Chalk it up to identical wardrobes and viewer fatigue.

Listen above, or download: The Avengers (right-click, save as).

As Tony Stark (Robert Downey, Jr.) addresses his fellow Avengers in the last act of this film, he makes the rather staggering leap in logic that their nemesis Loki (Tom Hiddleston) will surely go to New York City to fire the opening salvo of his war on mankind. Stark’s only evidence? NYC is where self-important people go to show off. While the non-New-Yorker in me couldn’t help but chuckle, this sloppy bit of plotting (and my instant acceptance thereof) did raise an interesting question. How much of my desire to follow these characters into whatever adventure and peril awaits them can be properly attributed to this film? This is the potential problem with any sequel – a dilemma that is compounded in a franchise like The Avengers, in which some of the characters were introduced in films that were at best mediocre, and in one case, starred a completely different actor. But while “The Avengers” might not have entirely succeeded as a franchise, Joss Whedon’s rousing and epic take on the final film* has completely validated Marvel’s endeavor.

The gang’s all here, and both Whedon and his actors know exactly who they want them to be. There’s Thor (Chris Hemsworth), verbose and bombastic demigod who feels the weight of every moment – with a soft spot for humanity and for his villainous adoptive brother Loki. There’s Steve Rogers/Captain America (Chris Evans), steadfast and reliable soldier – first out the door into a fight, and a natural leader. There’s Nick Fury (Samuel L. Jackson), boss of the Avengers – chaotic, manipulative bastard beyond reproach, working at all times for the greater good.

And then there’s the other guy. Mark Ruffalo joins the Avengers as Bruce Banner, better known as the Incredible Hulk. If there’s one thing the last two Hulk films taught me, it’s that there’s a lot of potential goofiness involved with a character that explodes into a huge green uncontrollable rage-monster. And yet, everyone in The Avengers treats Banner with deadly seriousness, most of all Ruffalo himself. Even with his limited screentime, Ruffalo manages to deftly convey just what a self-hating, tortured soul this man is. Because the movie never treats the Hulk as anything less than an imminent, mortal threat, there is a palpable sense of danger surrounding him at all times. All of the fantastic tension in the early scenes between Banner and the Avengers is character-based – they fear the unpredictable man who stands between them and the beast. And surprisingly, it is between Banner and Stark that the film first starts to draw some fascinating parallels. Both Banner’s Hulk and Stark’s Iron Man are grappling with potentially lethal forces that threaten to tear them apart from the inside out. While Stark is far more ready to crack a joke about his situation, they feel credibly like the only two people in the world who can truly understand each other’s lot.

Stark has the most screen time – this is surely because both Iron Man and Robert Downey, Jr. are collectively the biggest star in the bunch, but it also marks a wise decision on Whedon’s part to use Stark as the film’s no-bullshit sounding board. Stark is a brilliant, abrasive, narcissistic billionaire, and seems exceptionally well-suited to the job of bringing subtext to the surface in a short period of time. In each of their scenes with Stark, more of each Avenger is revealed, and Downey Jr’s performance here is as strong as it has ever been.

And what to make of the villainous Loki? He is the same whiny, entitled, beggar-king that be became in Thor, ranting constantly about his birthright and nobility and dispatching his enemies with unrelenting viciousness. Loki is less of a master of chaos than he pretends to be, but Hiddleston’s performance brought just about the right level of malevolence and false bravado to the role. Full-on villainy seems like a natural extension of his antiheroic beginnings in Thor – a film which I suspect, despite my cheap shot above, might actually be slightly better when viewed through the lens of what’s to come**.

And what’s to come is pretty obvious… All hell breaks loose in the Big Apple, per usual, but for once the city’s defenders seem immediately equal to the task at hand. This is partially because of just how powerful the Avengers are collectively, but it’s also because the invading “Chitauri” never quite feel like a world-ending threat. The army – a collection of District 9 rejects, Uruk-hai, and giant flying tortoises – wasn’t half as interesting as the heroes fighting it. But the scale, cinematography, and big, colorful superhero badassery of it all brought a huge grin to my face nonetheless. If there’s one thing I remember from Joss Whedon’s last film Serenity, it’s that the man can direct the hell out of an full-tilt battle sequence, balancing intimacy, scale, and devastation with near-perfection. A series of tracking shots take us on a breathtaking tour of the battlescape, as we see each of the Avengers brawling with their own impressive signatures. Despite the rather rote setup of the battle and its resolution, the stakes were undeniable, both for the heroes personally and for the city they protect***.

The Avengers is an unrelenting delight with a smart script and a rousing musical score (by Captain America composer Alan Silvestri). But the highest praise I can give this film is that even the most groan-worthy bits of fan-service were well-placed and served the plot in some concrete fashion. Did Thor really need to bang his hammer into Captain America’s shield? Of course not. But I’m glad I got to see it.

FilmWonk rating: 8 out of 10

* I say “final film” more in the sense of a climax, not out of any naive belief that Marvel won’t milk this franchise until it dies. After a $207 million opening weekend, there’s little doubt that there will be an Avengers 2.

** All things considered, Jane Foster is still a useless character, and I was pleased to only see Natalie Portman’s face in this film as a means of assuring us that she would not make another wasted appearance.

*** SPOILERY OBSERVATION (highlight to view):
While the nuke felt a little perfunctory, Stark’s sudden rush to self-sacrifice was profoundly affecting. Downey, Jr completely sold his transformation over the course of this film (particularly after Coulson’s death), and the film actually managed to make me forget, for a few seconds, that there’s no way that Marvel would let Joss Whedon exercise his penchant for character-slaughter on their biggest star. It was a lovely moment nonetheless, and one that this film completely earned.
END OF SPOILER

Brit Marling may be one of my favorite voices in indie sci-fi, and I say that even as someone who was not a fan of her well-intentioned flop Another Earth. Marling’s performance was very nearly the saving grace of that film, and is surely one of the best reasons to see her latest outing (with director Zal Batmanglij), Sound of My Voice. Marling plays a secluded cult leader, Maggie, who claims to be a time traveler from the year 2054. Peter Aitken (Christopher Denham) and Lorna Michaelson (Nicole Vicius) are a couple working tirelessly to infiltrate the cult, hoping to use hidden cameras to capture Maggie’s persona on film, and expose her for the fraud that she surely must be.

“I’m not petty,” Maggie says in one scene, “I don’t really care if people believe me.” Marling plays the charismatic cult leader as a master manipulator – exuding vulnerability and menace in equal measure. Bits of sincere, self-aware dialogue seem perfectly crafted to reinforce her story. In fact, the film uses Maggie’s story effectively as a subtle framework to explain the cult mentality. There is a dark, secret future, she explains, and only a select few will survive it. You’re special. You must be, or you wouldn’t believe my story. You wouldn’t have passed all of our little tests. You wouldn’t be committed to our group forever. The group’s trust in Maggie’s Terminator-ish future fable acts as a kind of glue to bind them all together. Many details, such as that Maggie grows all of her own food because she’s allergic to all of the toxins in our time period, would work as effectively for a plain old vegan commune as a futurist cult – and yet they add to her credibility without requiring her to produce a shred of actual evidence. These mythological elements are bolstered further by a series of elaborate security rituals – the cult members strip naked and scrub themselves off before being transported blind to the meeting place, and are not admitted until they perform a complex “secret handshake”.

In addition to this well-established group dynamic, the film functions brilliantly as a paranoid thriller. Denham’s performance is impressive, increasing the tense atmosphere in the room with the slightest glance or twinge of the eye, and what’s more, Peter is a particularly well-drawn character. Many films would set up documentary filmmakers without any thought to their [presumably noble] inner lives – this film made some bold choices, and they pay off nicely as Peter is forced to blend truth and lies in order to maintain his cover. While his backstory is established by way of a rather clunky voice-over at the beginning, it still functions as convincing reasoning for why he is so desperate to expose Maggie.

The film doesn’t live or die on the veracity of Maggie’s story (which by its very nature cannot be proven conclusively), but rather on whether or not this well-intentioned couple will be exposed. And unfortunately, the weak link in that chain is Lorna. This is due in part to Nicole Vicius’ performance, which isn’t stellar – but it is also due to the writing of the character. The film reveals (using the same clunky voiceover method) that Lorna was a teen party girl, trying every kind of drug and burning out before she reached college-age. Which is a fine backstory, but it may as well have been absent, for all it matters as the film goes on. Lorna’s reason for participating in this deception is never established beyond the couple’s relationship, and while the two actors had decent romantic chemistry, it was Denham who completely carried the tense scenes in which the couple debates their next move. As the film goes on, Vicius is sidelined and forced to take on the boring role of the jealous girlfriend, competing ineffectually with Denham and Marling’s far more interesting dynamic.

Much of the film’s ending seems contingent on the various bits of weirdness that get introduced over the course of it. A creepy dude named Klaus (Richard Wharton) hangs around the whole time, and may or may not be the real power behind the group. An unidentified woman crawls around her hotel room searching for bugs. A little girl stacks black Legos in her room (while her dad does…something…with his laptop). This ending worked for me in much the same way as Richard Kelly’s 2001 film Donnie Darko, wherein all of those strange moments seemed deliberate rather than haphazard. When so many films are rightfully accused of “weirdness for weirdness’ sake”, it’s refreshing to see a film that can be weird in a way that feels bold and calculated. Even the last audible line of the film adds to the mystery.

FilmWonk rating: 7.5 out of 10

This week on the podcast, Glenn and Daniel never let go of James Cameron’s 1997 romantic sea epic, Titanic. Can a romance founded on chemistry, infidelity, and bad dialogue possibly stand the test of time? Find out below! Additionally, you’ll hear our windswept heroes expound on Avatar and the lamentable state of 3D cinema (50:19).

May contain NSFW language.

FilmWonk rating: 8/10 (Glenn), 9/10 (Daniel)

Show notes:

• Music for this episode comes from James Horner’s soundtrack sequel Back to Titanic, including the tracks “Titanic Suite” and I Salonisti’s arrangement of “Nearer My God to Thee”, which they play in the film.
• Daniel called it – the old couple below decks that we see holding each other in bed as the water rises around them are indeed Isidor and Ida Straus (the co-owner of Macy’s Department Stores and his wife). There was a deleted scene in which Ida refuses to board the lifeboat without her husband.
• Per Daniel’s recommendation, check out Encyclopedia Titanica, a fantastic trove of knowledge for all things Titanic.

Listen above, or download: Titanic (right-click, save as).

This week on the podcast, Glenn and Daniel review last year’s Academy Award winner for Best Foreign Film (and nominee for Best Original Screenplay), A Separation. This complex and riveting film is one part legal thriller, two parts family drama, and three parts tense moral ambiguity – listen to us try to unpack its various dimensions below (while also trying feebly to remember the name of Iran’s currency!) (40:34).

May contain NSFW language.

FilmWonk rating: 9/10

Show notes:

• Music for this episode comes from Sattar Oraki’s original score for the film.
• This episode contains vague spoilers for the 2003 film Confidence.
• Sarina Farhadi, who plays Termeh, is indeed the daughter of writer/director Asghar Farhadi.
• In case our profound (and admitted) ignorance didn’t make this clear, the Iranian unit of currency is neither the ducat (which is European) nor the shekel (which is…Hebrew, whoops) – it’s the rial, named for a currency that originated in Portugal.

Listen above, or download: A Separation (right-click, save as).

#5: Michelle Williams – Marilyn Monroe, My Week With Marilyn

Warning: This write-up will be chock full of backhanded compliments.

With a deeply flawed script and unlikable lead character, the core performances from Michelle Williams and Kenneth Branaugh are basically the only reasons to see this film – and it is a testament to the strength of these performances that the film is actually quite worth seeing. Williams brings a complex vulnerability to the titular icon that I found simultaneously appealing and fascinating, despite not having any previous knowledge of Marilyn Monroe besides her well-known (and highly sexualized) cult of personality. The film relies pretty heavily on the unspoken understanding that Marilyn Monroe is a figure of unquestionable appeal, but Williams’ performance manages to sell this appeal to a much greater extent than the film’s script and story ever does. She presents a difficult, tortured, and uncertain actress in the thrall of a surly acting teacher and under near-instantaneous hostility with her new film’s intense and egotistical director. While her relationship with Branaugh’s character is never much more affecting or complex than a sitcom clash, her romance with Colin Clark owes all of its poignancy to Williams’ performance and chemistry with co-star Eddie Redmayne, whose uneven turn might otherwise have ruined the film.

#4: Rooney Mara – Lisbeth Salander, The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo

As I mentioned on our “Ladies’ Night” podcast, I was wary about seeing Rooney Mara in this role, because the only other performance I knew her for was The Social Network, in which she is, for lack of a better description, nice and normal-looking. These were both red flags for ruthless cyberpunk heroine Lisbeth Salander, but Mara completely acquitted herself in this role. The highest praise I can give to this performance is that I didn’t once think of Noomi Rapace while watching it. Mara’s performance is both fearless and original, bringing a tender edge to a character that is subject to some rather horrific abuse and dubious sexualization over the course of the film.

Listen to me and Daniel discuss the film in-depth:
FilmWonk Podcast – Episode #15: “The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo”, “Young Adult”

#3: Bérénice Bejo – Peppy Miller, The Artist

What can I say? I’m a sucker for actresses playing actresses, and Bejo is a total charmer as up-and-coming talkie actress Peppy Miller. Her chemistry with Dujardin is impressive (even with the film’s silent format to muddy the critical waters), and I found their relationship appealing even as a long-term friendship, despite the film’s half-hearted attempts to paint it as a romance. To see these two friends deal with their competing careers amid the inexorable fall of silent cinema is the heart of this film’s appeal, and is surely the most affecting element of a film that could have been slight and insubstantial otherwise. Bejo’s performance served an essential role, challenging the obstinate artist George Valentin with both the new cinematic medium and the actress’ undeniable charisma within it.

#2: Kristen Wiig – Annie Walker, Bridesmaids

My description of this performance may skew toward the non-specific (I haven’t seen seen this film since theaters), but I can say this with total certainty: Kristen Wiig is a star. Cinema is dreadfully short on believable depictions of female friendship, and Wiig manages to craft several solid (and starkly contrasting) rapports with co-stars Maya Rudolph, Rose Byrne, and Melissa McCarthy. Her “anti-chemistry” with Byrne is particularly impressive, leading to some of the most striking moments of comedic tension in the film. This is a complicated mess of a character (although not quite as much so as my #1), and surely one of Wiig’s finest creations.

#1: Charlize Theron – Mavis Gary, Young Adult

Speaking of messes, Mavis Gary is the most fascinating trainwreck of a character I saw this year (and she had some serious competition from Mel Gibson). If there is a female equivalent of a manchild, this is surely it – Gary is nothing short of a delusional and self-destructive alcoholic, and Theron managed to bring a wickedly black sense of humor to the character. Her ruthless give-and-take banter with an equally strong and sarcastic Patton Oswalt is an absolute wonder. This is a character that should be utterly unsympathetic, and yet by the end, she completely drew me in, even as the character learns very, very little from her experience.

Listen to me and Daniel discuss the film in-depth:
FilmWonk Podcast – Episode #15: “The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo”, “Young Adult”

Honorable Mentions:

• Rinko Kikuchi as Naoko in Norwegian Wood
• Atsuko Okatsuka as Atsuko in Littlerock
• Mia Wasikowska as Jane Eyre in Jane Eyre

Best Actor

#5: Jean Dujardin – George Valentin, The Artist

From my review:

Jean Dujardin is forced to convey a great deal of emotional nuance through Valentin’s slightest glance or gesture, and the film resorts to techniques and shots that, in any other film, would have seemed incredibly manipulative. There’s a scene late in the film when Valentin confronts a room full of his old belongings, covered in sheets. As the music swells, he dramatically rips down every sheet, revealing the vestiges of his former success, finally staring heartbroken at a prized full-body portrait of himself in a tuxedo. His tears come forth, and Ludovic Bource’s score swells to overpowering heights, just as it does in many other scenes. But somehow, the tense crescendos of music that punctuate this film manage to craft a believable emotional arc of their own, even lacking the additional tones of a wailing, tormented man’s voice. The score supplements the visible emotion and physicality of Dujardin’s performance. These scenes worked, and in this medium, they seemed entirely appropriate.

#4: Ryan Gosling – Driver, Drive

It would be easy to say that Gosling is doing very little in this performance (and many people have), but this understated performance is exactly what the taciturn unnamed driver needed in this film. The driver is a vision of restrained and intense masculinity, seeing himself as equal parts valiant knight and unattached mercenary. As this veneer starts to crack over the course of the film, the stakes of the story rise palpably. This is completely Gosling’s film, and his overpowering chemistry with Carey Mulligan led to one of the most bizarre and operatic romantic beats I’ve ever seen on film.

#3: Michael Fassbender/James McAvoy – Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier, X-Men: First Class

Each of these performances is individually strong, with Fassbender’s intense and ruthless physicality contrasting nicely with McAvoy’s poise, charm, and control. But what makes this film work is the relationship between the two – the yin and yang that is so central to both the development of Magneto as a character and the film’s powerful climactic moment. This is an intense and complex relationship – utterly unmatched on screen this year, and it owes heavily to both actors’ performances. More on their individual performances in my review.

#2: Mel Gibson – Walter Black, The Beaver

From my review:

This performance may be hard to write about, but it was even harder to watch. The beaver persona strikes a comedic note at first, but these beats seem increasingly out of place as the film descends further and further into Walter’s insanity. Whenever Walter is forced to speak in his own voice (without the jaunty British accent), Gibson conveys such intractable discomfort and crippling hopelessness with every syllable that you wonder how Walter has managed to stave off suicide thusfar. His mere existence is a punishing chore. At the beginning of the film, I wondered if I would be able to judge this film without pondering Gibson’s real-life persona. By the end, I forgot Gibson entirely and found myself nearly weeping for the increasingly pitiful creature that is Walter Black. This performance may be unpleasant to watch, but it is certainly one of Gibson’s finest.

#1: Joseph Gordon-Levitt – Adam, 50/50

There is a precarious balance of tone at work in this film. Adam is a young man who has been struck with cancer, and a performance that hits too many hopeless notes would have easily driven audiences screaming from this film. Gordon-Levitt’s comedic performance is nothing short of remarkable, engaging in both credible friendly banter with co-star Seth Rogen and bringing a constant barrage of levity that the film sorely needed to avoid falling into crippling hopelessness. And yet, when the character is forced to confront the fragility of his present existence, Gordon-Levitt delivered once again. Adam’s confrontation with mortality is one of the most powerful and resonating aspects of this film, and Gordon-Levitt brought an intensity to the struggle that I haven’t seen since Andrew Garfield in Never Let Me Go. He is sympathetic, memorable, and hilarious, and to hit all of these beats in a single performance is an astounding achievement.

Listen to me and Daniel discuss the film in-depth:
FilmWonk Podcast – Episode #13: Jonathan Levine’s “50/50”

Honorable Mentions:

• Super-duper-honorable mention: Michael Shannon as Curtis in Take Shelter (saw it too late to qualify)
• Patton Oswalt as Matt Freehauf in Young Adult
• Ed Helms as Tim Lippe in Cedar Rapids
• Ewan McGregor as Oliver Fields in Beginners
• Michael Fassbender as Brandon Sullivan in Shame

2011 Glennies, Part 1: Best Picture (Top 10 Films of 2011)
2011 Glennies, Part 2: Best Supporting Actor/Actress
2011 Glennies, Part 3: Best Actor/Actress

This week on the podcast, Glenn and Daniel dial down the cynicism just a bit and ruminate on the nature of patriotism, warrior culture, and propaganda as a neutral descriptor in their discussion of Act of Valor, a new action film featuring real-life US Navy SEALs. (32:33)

May contain NSFW language. Act of Valor will be in theaters this Friday, February 24th.

FilmWonk rating: 7/10

Show notes:

• “Sing your death song and die like a hero going home.”
  We mention this rather poignant quote/poem by Tecumseh, which makes a truncated appearance in the film’s voiceover. It can be read in its entirety here.
• I briefly (and halfheartedly) tried to source some music from Nathan Furst’s original score for the film, but much like the score itself, I lost interest in my search rather quickly. As such, this week’s music comes from Hans Zimmer’s original score for The Rock, which seems apropos for this film.
• We refer to an interrogation scene that takes place halfway through the film, and due to the secrecy surrounding the SEAL cast of this film, we were unsure about the cast and scripting of this scene. The answers, according to The Washington Post: Yep, he’s a real SEAL, and the scene was entirely improvised. Bravo, sir.

Listen above, or download: Act of Valor (right-click, save as).

This week on the podcast, Glenn and Daniel venture into the Alaskan wilderness into a harrowing (and possibly overrated) tale of survival and wolf-punching. If the film’s trailer is any indication, that is. Which it isn’t. (25:35)

May contain NSFW language.

FilmWonk rating: 4/10 (Glenn), 3/10 (Daniel)

Show notes:

• We refer to the famous line, “Once more unto the breach, dear friends”, which is indeed from Henry V.
• It’s Ottway, not Ottman. Get it right, dudes.
• With apologies to Bob Ducca, stick around at the end for a list of movie title mashups.

Listen above, or download: The Grey (right-click, save as).

Best Supporting Actor

#5: Oscar Isaac – Blue Jones, Sucker Punch

Let it never be said that I hold a mean grudge… I hated virtually everything about this film, including the character of Blue Jones, but this will be one of the few awards where I enforce the nebulous distinction between “the best” and “my favorite” (David Chen posted a great discussion with IFC’s Matt Singer on this topic). Every moment of screen time with villainous burlesque magnate (or possibly psych ward attendant) Blue Jones made me physically uncomfortable. All of the male characters in this film are deplorable predators, but Isaac’s performance brought this one to life in a disturbingly memorable way. Every one of his line readings made my skin crawl, and that is certainly what the villain of such an overwhelmingly fetishistic comic farce needed. I would sooner rewatch Peter Jackson’s The Lovely Bones than ever revisit this performance, but it was undeniably one of the best of the year.

Honorable mention: He also gave a solid supporting turn in Drive.

#4: Albert Brooks – Bernie Rose, Drive

Now that’s more like it – here’s a villainous performance I would gladly revisit. Albert Brooks demonstrates an alarming vicious streak in this film, which would be brilliant even if I didn’t know him primarily as a comic actor.

#3: Ben Kingsley – Papa Georges, Hugo

There is a solid ensemble cast at work in Hugo, but Ben Kingsley certainly does the heavy lifting. Insofar as this film is primarily about the burden of a forgotten artist, Kingsley manages to elevate even the more cookie-cutter moments surrounding the revelation of his true identity. From my review:

Kingsley’s performance is marvelous, delivering just the right blend of sadness and intrigue. This is a bitter and ancient soul, but his bitterness is richly layered enough to suggest that it is the product of having lived too much rather than too little. This is a man who had everything and lost it; not a man who regrets what he failed to achieve.

#2: Kenneth Branagh – Sir Laurence Olivier, My Week with Marilyn

This is basically an actor’s dream role, getting to simultaneously ham it up as a beloved cinematic mainstay, and portray him in his prime as a director. If I were a bit more cynical, I might think that Branagh was exorcising some of his own directorial frustration into this performance, but watching him butt heads with Michelle Williams is entertaining regardless of its source. While Olivier’s relationship with Marilyn Monroe is actually one of the less developed aspects of the film, Branagh plays up Olivier’s confrontationalism and dismay to brilliant comedic effect.

#1: Christopher Plummer – Hal Fields, Beginners

Beginners failed to crack my Top 10 for one simple reason… It wasn’t primarily about Hal Fields. Writer/director Mike Mills based this film loosely on the story of his own father coming out as gay following the death of his wife, and just a few years before his own death, and Plummer’s performance succeeds because he treats a genuinely fascinating character with an overwhelming degree of affection. His chemistry with Ewan McGregor (who plays his son, the Mike Mills surrogate) is stellar, and helps to elevate the less interesting material that McGregor has to work with. Even as the film gets just a little bit bogged down in its own quirkiness, Plummer remains the heart of it, portraying an old man who is exploring his new life with all the fervor and enthusiasm of a much younger man. His portrayal feels entirely authentic, and derives all of its comic effect from the character’s inherent sweetness and earnestness.

Honorable Mentions:

• Ryan Gosling as Jacob Palmer in Crazy, Stupid, Love.
• Kevin Spacey, Jeremy Irons, and Paul Bettany as a trio of ruthless financiers in Margin Call
• Seth Rogen as Kyle in 50/50
• Michael Parks as Abin Cooper in Red State
• Colin Farrell as Jerry in Fright Night

Best Supporting Actress

#5: Emma Stone – Hannah, Crazy, Stupid, Love.

Crazy, Stupid, Love. was a surprisingly enjoyable film, taking a fairly conventional romantic comedy premise and amping it up with a masterful sense of humor and charm. And one of the biggest charmers was surely Emma Stone, who is quickly becoming one of my favorite comic actresses (she also had an amusing minor role in Friends With Benefits this year). She plays nicely with co-star Ryan Gosling (who just barely missed out on my list above) both in terms of chemistry and comedic timing, and manages to shine despite her limited screentime.

#4: Chloë Grace Moretz – Isabelle, Hugo

“Don’t you like books?!”

Chloe Moretz’s reading of this line clinched this as one of my favorite performances of the year. Moretz brought such a sense of joy and adventure to the character that she managed to set herself apart from similarly bookish heroines (such as Hermione Granger) without crossing the well-trod line of irritation that such characters often stumble into. She is, to a large extent, the heart of this film, lighting up the screen with enthusiasm in her every scene, and making an excellent foil for Asa Butterfield and Ben Kingsley’s more somber and subdued roles.

#3: Jodie Foster – Meredith Black, The Beaver

This film didn’t work as a whole for me, but if there’s one thing that both Foster and co-star Mel Gibson demonstrate, it’s that they understand depression and self-destruction. And this understanding comes through despite the film’s darkly comedic (and frankly absurd) premise of a man talking exclusively through a Cockney-voiced beaver puppet. Gibson’s performance is agonizing to behold, but is made doubly so by how credibly Foster plays his steadfast and equally tormented spouse. Meredith clearly still cares for Walter, even as he makes it harder and harder for her to interact with him in any meaningful way – a theme that plays out marvelously in the restaurant scene pictured above, which was a tour de force for Foster in both acting and direction.

#2: Rose Byrne – Helen Harris, Bridesmaids

This was a film chock full of memorable and fully realized characters, but none quite so effective as Rose Byrne’s villainous would-be maid-of-honor, Helen Harris. Byrne plays up the various conflicts between Helen’s wealth, insecurity, and inherently scheming nature, leading to one of the film’s most memorable confrontations in which (I’ll be vague here) she offers Kristen Wiig a friendly snack. It’s all smiles, and yet both actresses play up the tension brilliantly – a dynamic that persists throughout the film. This villain is the antithesis of Oscar Isaac above – an absolute delight in every scene, and a performance I will happily revisit.

#1: Marion Cotillard – Adriana, Midnight in Paris

I had to excise the word “irresistible” from my description of Emma Stone above, lest I squander it in advance of my favorite performance of the year. Marion Cotillard plays Adriana, and without being too specific, let’s just say she has an active social life, chock full of fascinating suitors. Cotillard could have played this character simply as an object of desire, but her charm and vivaciousness are merely the initial layer of a delightfully rich characterization. While this allure nearly puts her out of the league of Owen Wilson’s “Aw shucks” demeanor, as the film goes on, the two characters complement each other nicely, and Adriana’s various interests play well into the film’s exploration of the dangers of nostalgia. While the film itself is a love letter to Paris, Cotillard’s performance seems to encapsulate all of the romance and intrigue that the city itself has to offer. And both the city and the lady are irresistible.

Honorable Mentions:

• Anne Heche as Joan Ostrowski-Fox in Cedar Rapids
• Maya Rudolph as Lillian in Bridesmaids
• Carey Mulligan as Irene in Drive
• Evan Rachel Wood as Molly Stearns in The Ides of March
• Anna Kendrick as Katherine in 50/50

2011 Glennies, Part 1: Best Picture (Top 10 Films of 2011)
2011 Glennies, Part 2: Best Supporting Actor/Actress
2011 Glennies, Part 3: Best Actor/Actress

#11: The Big, Dumb, Occasionally Smart Action Movie

I know I’m cheating a bit here, but I must say – this was a solid year for the action blockbuster. Fast Five, Rise of the Planet of the Apes, and Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol were all impressive contenders (the latter just barely missing out on this list). Even after Michael Bay descended into robotic madness, directors Justin Lin, Rupert Wyatt, and illustrious Pixar veteran Brad Bird have come along to challenge his throne as actioneer-in-chief. While these are very different films (with highly variable calibers of acting and character work), what they have in common is a sense of pace and coherence that was unmatched in action cinema this year, and deserves to be recognized for the talented filmmaking that it represents.

#10: X-Men: First Class

Directed by Matthew Vaughn, screenplay by Ashley Miller, Zack Stentz, Jane Goldman, and Matthew Vaughn, story by Bryan Singer and Sheldon Turner

Rewatching this film in the past week, I was reminded of a few things. First, Henry Jackman‘s musical score is distractingly bad at times, and bothered me even more on repeat viewing. When the X-Men swept over the final naval showdown in their supersonic jet, and the guitars, choir, and drums swelled to an absurdly bombastic theme, I felt more like I was watching a 80s laser rock opera than a 60s Cold War reimagining. But I didn’t mention that in my original review, because there was just so much else to love about this film. Michael Fassbender‘s performance and physicality as Erik Lehnsherr (“Magneto”) is nothing short of magnificent, and James McAvoy gives a fascinating rendition of the sage and reliable Charles Xavier as a young man. Indeed, nearly every one of the myriad of characters in this film feels well cast and written, with each of the young mutants getting their own small piece of the story to carry. Lucas Till (“Havok”) and Edi Gathegi (“Darwin”) both have particularly effective screen presence in their small roles.

But the biggest triumph of this film is how much every piece of the action is motivated by plot and character. Every major development in this film, from the villain’s inevitable undoing to the final epic showdown, has multiple, fascinating dimensions affected by the complex relationships between Xavier, Erik, Raven (“Mystique”), Sebastian Shaw, and others. While the finale didn’t feel completely earned, it did so many things well that it is still one of the finest scenes of the year.

#9: Hot Coffee

Directed by Susan Saladoff

Susan Saladoff is a trial lawyer-turned-filmmaker, and Hot Coffee is a documentary that not only argues against “tort reform”, but questions the very definition of the phrase. I’ll admit, the mere premise of this film both intrigued me and put me on guard. I already knew that the infamous “McDonald’s Hot Coffee” case (of an elderly woman who spilled coffee on her lap and received millions in damages) is more complex than the majority of the public believes, despite its continuing status as the poster child for frivolous litigation. The most important details – that the coffee was served at a temperature that would cause instant second-degree burns if consumed immediately, as well as the fact that Mrs. Liebeck suffered third-degree burns to her pelvic region (resulting in skin grafts and multiple surgeries) – are equally obscure pieces of trivia.

I expected all of this to be brought forth in this film. What I did not expect was to see a graphic photo of Liebeck’s injuries. This is a film whose opening salvo is strong, and it continues unrelentingly on a single premise: the state of American civil litigation is broken, and many tort reform measures, both current and proposed, exist solely to prevent American consumers from seeing justice when they are wronged by corporations. The film examines a variety of these tactics, including caps on damages, campaigning for business-friendly judges, as well as some of the less than savory tactics used to end opposing judiciary careers. In the last act, the film examines the increasing prevalence of binding arbitration clauses (if you have a cell phone contract, you’ve agreed to one!), by way of a woman who was forced to arbitrate her case against KBR/Halliburton using binding arbitration – a case that included charges of gangrape and unlawful imprisonment.

Needless to say, this is complex, emotionally-charged material, the effectiveness of which will depend a great deal on your individual politics. I remained guarded throughout, as these felt like the tactics of a Michael Moore film, albeit much less emotionally manipulative and fast and easy with the facts. This film has a provocative perspective to offer, but gives you plenty of room to decide how much you agree with it. It is a rare film that comes along and upends your worldview in a lasting way, but Hot Coffee might be one such film.

#8: Attack the Block

Written and directed by Joe Cornish

This film, which depicted an alien invasion fended off by a gang of thuggish London street kids, was an unrelenting delight with an immaculate sense of pace. From the opening scene, in which the gang robs an innocent woman at knife-point, these kids, as well as their leader Moses (John Boyega) are far from sympathetic, but go through an impressive and believable transformation over the course of the film. These kids may be the products of apathetic parenting, ineffectual law enforcement, and urban decay – but the movie makes it clear that they’re exactly the ones you’d want in your corner during an alien invasion. And despite the self-indulgent and anti-social behavior they exhibit at the beginning of the film, the overwhelming theme is this: actions have consequences. And what’s more, that message felt completely earned by the film’s end.

Head for Boyega’s IMDb page, and you will see just a single TV credit preceding this film. But damned if I wasn’t utterly riveted by his every line of dialogue. Even if he weren’t a newcomer, Boyega would be the standout performance in this film. He brings the brooding action screen presence of a much older and more seasoned actor, lending additional weight to all the action and chaos that ensues. This is an absolutely starmaking performance, and I look forward to whatever he does next (even if it’s an HBO boxing drama).

#7: Contagion

Directed by Steven Soderbergh, screenplay by Scott Z. Burns

First, a rare shout-out to the marketing department… This was one of the most riveting and effective trailers I saw this year (the cheesy tagline notwithstanding). Soderbergh delivered a sprawling epic with a global scale that seems disturbingly plausible as you watch it. The all-star cast seems to have been chosen in order to facilitate an audience connection despite the relatively short screentimes of each character (“You like Gwyneth Paltrow, right? Well you won’t believe what happens to her face in the first act!”), but a few of them (Kate Winslet and Laurence Fishburne in particular) present fascinating characters in their own right.

But this film wasn’t really about a single character or storyline. It was about the viral spread of information and fear at a pace that dwarfed that of the actual infection. Jude Law‘s role as a sensationalist blogger, easily the film’s sloppiest character choice, was nonetheless a fascinating (and mostly credible) peek into the kind of hysteria that would ensue with such a deadly pandemic. When I saw this film, I saw our very own world and civilization pushed to the brink of self-destruction, and I found it far more frightening than succumbing to a deadly illness. This is a film that sticks with you, even when you go right back to touching doorknobs and bar pretzels the next day.

#6: Drive

Directed by Nicolas Winding Refn, screenplay by Hossein Amini, novel by James Sallist

Ryan Gosling may have only a couple dozen lines of dialogue in this film, but it’s still one of his finest lead performances. He plays the unnamed “Driver”, a movie stunt performer who moonlights as a criminal for hire driving getaway vehicles. This is The Transporter as a brooding drama, prone to a surprising amount of emotional heft and some unexpectedly graphic violence. This film is a slow burn, and it’s not for everyone, but I was completely enthralled by it. It boasts one of the strongest casts I saw this year, featuring deft supporting work from Carey Mulligan, Oscar Isaacs, and Bryan Cranston, as well as an outstanding dramatic performance comic mainstay Albert Brooks as an utterly vicious villain.

Drive is one beautifully constructed sequence after another, from its initial 10-minute vehicular chess match with the LAPD, to an elevator scene featuring one of the most operatic and bizarre romantic moments ever put to screen.

#5: The Artist

The Weinsteins have spoken… This is 2011′s big awards contender. But screw it, I am completely on board with this silent, black-and-white film made this year in Hollywood. Michel Hazanavicius‘ silent storytelling works not only because it demonstrates the effectiveness and charm of the medium, but because it tells a story that seemingly could only have been told this way – the demise of silent film. We – the audience – know that the career of dashing silent performer George Valentin (Jean Dujardin) is doomed, and yet his struggle to stay true to his art seems both foolish and noble in equal measure.

From my review…

The Artist crafts a complex character’s journey without overly relying on title cards, and conveying a great deal of story via background set design – a technique that has remained effective to this day. In the present day, we have no choice but to regard silent film as an anachronistic technical limitation. But in its day, it was the engine that propelled innovative storytelling, and Hazanavicius clearly understands how it succeeded. This film could have been a baseless technical exercise, but with this execution, it’s nothing short of a modern classic.

#4: Littlerock

Written/directed by Mike Ott

This film offers a groundbreaking depiction of cultural interaction, by way of a pair of Japanese adult siblings stranded in a rural California town. The sister, Atsuko (Atsuko Okatsuka) speaks no English, and the brother, Rintaro (Rintaro Sawamoto) speaks a little bit – but whenever they’re split apart, we don’t get a single subtitle for their lines of Japanese dialogue. But this is not an inaccessible piece of indie cinema – it’s an uproarious comedy about how people interact at the most basic level, even when they don’t share the same language. It also features one of the most fascinating self-deluded characters of the year, Cory Lawler (Cory Zacharia), whose interactions with Atsuko make up the bulk of the film. The dialogue and interactions felt completely naturalistic, and demonstrated a great deal of talent on the part of the Japanese actors – fluent English speakers in real life – who were quite convincing in their inability to understand the specifics of what the Americans were saying to them.

Zacharia also gives an outstanding performance, although I have to mention – one of the actors present at the Q&A said that Zacharia is very much like his fictitious counterpart in real life, much like Jason Mewes in the films of Kevin Smith. Zacharia’s characterization is actually quite similar to that of Mewes, but his naïveté definitely sets him apart.

Listen to me, Daniel, and my fiancée Megan (who is fluent in Japanese!) discuss the film in depth:
FilmWonk Podcast – Episode #11: “Littlerock” (SIFF review)

As an aside:
This film stands quite well on its own (or it wouldn’t have made my Top 10), but Cory Lawler is nonetheless a character I wouldn’t mind revisiting. And now it appears I’ll get my chance… In a recent episode of The Tobolowsky Files, storyteller and character actor Stephen Tobolowsky confirmed that Mike Ott is shooting a sequel/spinoff to this film, in which (according to the film’s IMDb page) Tobolowsky seems to play Cory’s father. Both Cory and Atsuko reappear, although one dubious note, which I’ll try not to read too much into, is that “Atsuko” is now “Anna”.

#3: Young Adult

Directed by Jason Reitman, screenplay by Diablo Cody

Mavis Gary (Charlize Theron) and Matt Freehauf (Patton Oswalt), former high school classmates who reunite when Gary returns to her tiny, franchise-laden Minnesota town determined to break up the happy marriage of her ex-boyfriend, are as bizarre and unlikely a pairing as I’ve ever seen this year. Former popular kids who couldn’t get on with their lives are amusing narrative punching bags, but they seldom transcend their status as stock characters. Mavis Gary is certainly the most richly layered version of this character I’ve seen, equal parts alcoholic and Diet Coke fiend, determined to keep reliving the glory days, even via her profession – ghostwriter of trashy teen fiction. Theron’s performance is brave and effective, keeping the character utterly unsympathetic for most of the film’s runtime, and yet inspiring sympathy when she has to. Oswalt’s performance is remarkable – every bit the awkward former nerd (who paid a serious price for his lack of popularity), but much more self-aware, hiding behind a fortress of adept sarcasm and other tidbits of verbal sparring. To watch these two thoroughly damaged people butt up against each other (to their own mutually increasing frustration) is remarkable and hilarious. And what’s more (in typical Jason Reitman vein), this is not a story about damaged people growing and changing and getting on with their lives – quite the opposite, in fact. Several late scenes are immaculately constructed – equal parts devastating and hilarious (and one featuring an outstanding supporting turn from Collette Wolfe).

Diablo Cody has certainly matured as a screenwriter since Juno, and this latest collaboration with Reitman is another fascinating dark comedy character piece. These characters still have a bit of the quirk and banter we’ve come to expect from her screenwriting, but they feel much more grounded in reality. Dark, hilarious reality.

Listen to me and Daniel discuss the film in-depth:
FilmWonk Podcast – Episode #15: “The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo”, “Young Adult”

#2: 50/50

Directed by Jonathan Levine, screenplay by Will Reiser

There’s nothing funny about a young man getting cancer. But screenwriter Will Reiser‘s semi-autobiographical tale of getting cancer at a young age not only tackles this serious material with an incredible degree of levity, but feels authentic and intensely personal in the process.

Shortly after Adam (Joseph Gordon-Levitt) has received his diagnosis, a random coworker gives him an emphatic hug at a party, tearfully announcing, “I’m gonna miss you!” At his friend Kyle (Seth Rogen)’s insistence, he walks up to a girl at a bar and attempts to pick her up by announcing that he has cancer, shortly after shaving his head with Kyle’s electric “body-groomer”.

So many of the scenes in this film felt as if they could only have been taken from real life, not only because fiction wouldn’t dare tread on such ground, but because fiction rarely has the slightest idea of what dying is actually like. As I write this, I’m a healthy young man (my penchant for whiskey and kielbasa notwithstanding), so I can’t say whether this superlative film got it right. But I can say this… I saw myself in Adam, and his plight feels genuine and heartbreaking. Gordon-Levitt gives a remarkable performance here, and his chemistry with Rogen is pitch-perfect. I found myself laughing throughout this film, and tearful at several points – and I never once felt like the film had manipulated me into either reaction.

Take some notes, Patch Adams. This is how it’s done.

Listen to me and Daniel discuss the film in depth:
FilmWonk Podcast – Episode #13: Jonathan Levine’s “50/50″

#1: Hugo

Directed by Martin Scorsese, screenplay by John Logan, book by Brian Selznick

This has definitely been a year of fascination with the techniques of prototypical filmmaking, between this film, The Artist, and My Week With Marilyn. And yet, this film stands apart not just as a celebration of the magic of cinema, but as an argument for the preservation of any creative endeavor. This film is gorgeous and utterly immersive, rich with memorable characters to bring you along for the ride.

From my review:

Hugo strives to be both a children’s adventure film and a poignant drama about the burden of a forgotten artist, and it largely succeeds as both. What’s more, for any auteurists out there, it certainly feels like a personal project for Martin Scorsese, whose marvelous body of work is fortunate enough to exist in a century with both the technology and inclination to preserve it. No one quite knows how their creative efforts might be remembered in future generations, but this film deftly argues that such efforts ought to be remembered and cherished. What truly makes this is a great family film is not just the zany and inoffensive hijinks that it shares with so many other blockbusters, but also this message, subtly woven throughout a story that is quite worth telling.

Honorable Mentions:

• War Horse (directed by Steven Spielberg, screenplay by Lee Hall and Richard Curtis, book by Michael Morpurgo)
• Bridesmaids (directed by Paul Fieg, screenplay by Kristen Wiig and Annie Mumolo)
• Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol (directed by Brad Bird, screenplay by Josh Appelbaum and André Nemec, TV series by Bruce Geller)
• Shame (directed by Steve McQueen, screenplay by Steve McQueen and Abi Morgan)
• Beginners (written and directed by Mike Mills)
• I Saw the Devil (directed by Jee-woon Kim, written by Hoon-jung Park)
• The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo (directed by David Fincher, screenplay by Steven Zaillian, novel by Stieg Larsson)
• Midnight in Paris (written and directed by Woody Allen)
• Kosmos (written and directed by Reha Erdem)
• Jane Eyre (directed by Cary Fukunaga, screenplay by Moira Buffini, novel by Charlotte Brontë)
• Double-honorable mention: Certified Copy (written and directed by Abbas Kiarostami – just saw it last night, too late to be eligible for this list!)

2011 Glennies, Part 1: Best Picture (Top 10 Films of 2011)
2011 Glennies, Part 2: Best Supporting Actor/Actress
2011 Glennies, Part 3: Best Actor/Actress

This week, we took a cue from the movie studios and decided to cram one too many films into the same day. First, we delve into the dark and depraved world of David Fincher’s fresh adaptation of The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo. Then, we’ll examine the maturation of Diablo Cody in her new collaboration with director Jason Reitman, Young Adult. (44:42)

Please note that per usual, this podcast may contain NSFW language. Additionally, due to the subject matter of The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, our review contains some rather frank discussion of rape and associated social issues. We understand these matters are delicate, and we recommend that any sensitive listeners skip past the spoiler section of this review (see the show notes for timing).

FilmWonk rating (The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo): 7/10
FilmWonk rating (Young Adult): 8.5/10

Show notes:

• (0:00) Review: The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo
• (11:55) Spoilers: The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo (warning: disturbing content)
• (24:07) Review: Young Adult
• (36:21) Spoilers: Young Adult
• Minor spoiler: Near the end of the Dragon Tattoo review, we allude to a certain character stealing a substantial amount of money. From the book, the actual amount was around $260 million USD, which was worth about 2.5 billion Swedish kronor when the book was written. In the film (according to Wikipedia), the amount is 32 billion Euros (~$41 billion USD).
• We mention the actor who plays Lisbeth Salander’s guardian. This actor is Yorick van Wageningen, whom we may have recognized from his small part as “The Guv” in The Chronicles of Riddick.
• For the record, there is no Mercury, MN.
• Music for tonight’s episode is Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross’ version of “Immigrant Song” (performed by Karen O from the Yeah Yeah Yeahs), from the soundtrack to The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo.

Listen above, or download: The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo, Young Adult (right-click, save as).

The relationship between man and horse has always been a complicated one. It’s simple to find inspiration in a story of humans and pets, since pets are generally treated well and have little expected but love in return. Horses, like all other beasts of burden, are the subject of greater expectations, and highly variable levels of respect. Cards on the table: I don’t find horse-racing films inspiring in the slightest. On the surface, it’s basically the same as watching NASCAR – full of souped-up, highly disposal means of transportation, barely deserving of the moniker of “sport”. The only noticeable difference is that these speedy conveyances are capable of feeling pain, making the activity that much more appalling. But beasts of burden have their place, to be sure, and there may be inspiration to be found in their stories, provided they’re enriching our lives in some meaningful way (gamblers, alcoholics, and gluemakers notwithstanding).

War is an equally mixed bag for storytelling, particularly World War I. It was known ever so briefly as “the war to end all wars”, and was a study in contradictions – an absurd mix of both ancient and groundbreaking mechanisms of battle. This war featured swords, cannons, trench and chemical warfare, tanks, metallic armor, and yes – even horses. War Horse effectively broaches the question of whether a horse is capable of demonstrating valor or loyalty, and regardless of the answer to this question, we do see a great many horses lying broken and discarded on the battlefield. This exploration of the First World War is certainly the most interesting part of this film, and simultaneously the most muddled.

This film plays like a fairy tale, with a soft glow blanketing the characters’ initial idyllic existence. Albert (Jeremy Irvine) is a farmboy in Devon, England, whose father wrecklessly splurges on a thoroughbred horse to plow his field. The horse, Joey, may well be a gorgeous specimen, but he’s not big, ugly, or strong enough for the farm work to be set before him. As Albert desperately tries to train Joey to work the plow, his landlord (David Thewlis) twirls his mustache and delivers an absurd (but well-spoken) monologue about Albert’s almost certain failure. This tale of boy and horse is entertaining, to be sure, and demonstrates the horse’s personality to an impressive degree. Even as we learn that these two will soon be torn from each other by the impending war, this sequence masterfully sets up their affection for one another, with Spielberg somehow wrangling as convincing a performance from the animal as from Irvine himself.

But from this point on, the film is basically just a series of vignettes, and actually becomes rather confusing. A staggering number of minor characters are introduced, each with a slightly different flavor of randomly accented English-language dialogue. Unless you happen to be an expert in WWI military insignia, it’s difficult to tell where Joey is, where he’s going, or how likely Albert is to find him. While this certainly causes the film to lose momentum, it somehow makes Joey’s story even more tragic, placing the audience in the same confused position he’s in. Horses may well be capable of loyalty, but this horse has very little choice in where he goes or what he does. While horses aren’t capable of understanding the full scope and consequence of their actions in warfare, this film certainly demonstrates their capacity to be swept up as either victims or reluctant participants.

Most of the human cast – whom I would struggle to call anything more than supporting players – are effective. As Joey strikes out on his journey, the film intently focuses on each of the lives he touches along the way. Benedict Cumberbatch and Tom Hiddleston both give strong turns as military officers. Newcomer Celine Buckens gives perhaps the worst accent performance in the film as a young [French?] farm girl who briefly and affectionately takes possession of Joey when he wanders onto her family farm. The story of the girl and her father had the potential to be quite poignant, but it is undercut by Buckens’ uneven performance and some rather irritating dialogue.

The film’s climactic scene, which I won’t spoil here, continues Spielberg’s tradition (begun in Saving Private Ryan) of depicting both sides of a historical war as potentially sympathetic. In their own way, each side recognizes Joey’s innocence and unwilling participation in this conflict, and seem determined to spare him any further harm. Over the course of this film, we see war horses treated as brutally as any other materiel, but it is in this final moment that the film hammers home the point that they’re a category unto themselves. I’m not sure if “inspiring” would be the right word for this message – the contribution of Joey and warhorses like him was meaningful, but it came on the eve of their obsolescence as a tool of human warfare. If Joey had been born a mere decade later, he could have lived out his life happily in peace. Then again, the same could be said for Albert and the young men who fight and die beside him. Like all war films, War Horse is a tragic tale at heart – but the friendship, valor, and loyalty demonstrated here is no less meaningful for it. War may well be a natural human condition, and as such it affects those beasts we hold most dear just as surely as it affects us all. To turn a historical eye to their contributions and sacrifices, whether or not they can truly be considered noble, does not go amiss.

FilmWonk rating: 6 out of 10

Martin Scorsese’s Hugo is a delightful family film and an outright visual treat, but it is definitely trying to be two distinct types of film. The antagonism between the orphaned, precocious tinkerer Hugo Cabret (Asa Butterfield) and the unforgiving (and unnamed) 1930s Paris train station inspector (Sacha Baron Cohen) is surely the zaniest plotline in the film – and yet, like every interaction here, it is checkered with a surprising depth of emotion. Nearly everyone in this film has a bit of a tortured past, but some of their harrowing backstories are downplayed to such a degree as to be unintentionally hilarious. When Hugo’s erstwhile father (Jude Law) is incinerated in an unmotivated blaze of CG fire, there was audible laughter in my audience… And when the station inspector’s leg-brace (a source of his ample bitterness) gets caught on the outside door of a departing train, I assumed he would meet a similarly horrific offscreen fate, but it was not to be.

The film begins with a masterful sequence of silent-cinema world-building (easily the strongest since WALL-E), then jumps right into this rather jarring combination of tones. But despite my initial qualms, I quickly found myself entranced by it. The film’s strongest relationship, which it establishes with remarkable speed, is between Hugo and Isabelle (Chloë Grace Moretz). Isabelle is bookish and adventurous, and fits right into that Hermione Granger zone of “probably should be annoying, but isn’t.” Moretz’ performance is nothing short of brilliant, lighting up the screen with enthusiasm everytime she makes an appearance. Asa Butterfield, a relative newcomer, is adept as Hugo Cabret, but the character himself is not nearly as fascinating as those surrounding him, and his relationship with Isabelle owes far more to Moretz’ performance than anything else. This young actress is just starting to demonstrate her versatility (starting with such films as Kick-Ass and Let Me In), and is certainly a talent to watch out for in the next few years.

The film’s locale – a 1930s Paris train station – is also a rich character, particularly with the film’s luxurious 3D visuals to support it. Hugo lives on the fringes, climbing through the walls, rafters, and numerous clocks of the station, stealing what he can to support (and feed) himself. He also strives to repair a mysterious clockwork man (“automaton”) – a museum castoff that his father acquired before he died, and promised his son he would repair. When enigmatic toy vendor Papa Georges (Ben Kingsley) simultaneously catches Hugo thieving and discovers his secret mechanical project, he turns immediately hostile, vowing to burn Hugo’s notebook and have him arrested if he sees him again. It is at this point that Hugo and Isabelle embark on their adventure – to find out why Georges (Isabelle’s godfather) is so miserable in his old age. Kingsley’s performance is marvelous, delivering just the right blend of sadness and intrigue. This is a bitter and ancient soul, but his bitterness is richly layered enough to suggest that it is the product of having lived too much rather than too little. This is a man who had everything and lost it; not a man who regrets what he failed to achieve.

Much of the second half relies on flashbacks, and without getting into too many specifics, Hugo is the latest of several films (along with The Artist and My Week With Marilyn) to turn a nostalgic eye toward filmmaking techniques of old. Of those films, this one certainly goes back the furthest, presenting some truly innovative in-camera stop motion and lighting effects. With this sequence, Scorsese affectionately showcases the earliest days of film production, when a film studio was a glass warehouse full of sets and costumes blanketed in natural light. Along with the train station’s many clocks and gears and levers – which are strongly evocative of silent films such as Modern Times, this entire production feels like Martin Scorsese’s love letter to prototypical filmmaking.

Hugo’s conception of the world is as a wondrous machine full of mutually dependent and wholly necessary components- human and otherwise. For this conception to have survived even as he is relegated to the fringes of society is a fascinating theme, even if it gets stated aloud a few too many times during the film. Even as Hugo and Isabelle learn the dangers involved in dredging up the past, they seem as much in pursuit of their own purpose in life, and it’s all profoundly affecting. Even if not every moment rings perfectly true, the performances more than make up for it (a scene in which Papa Georges appears as the children examine an artifact from his past felt a little too pat, but Kingsley’s performance and ensuing monologue completely sold the moment). The supporting cast is strong, from Helen McCrory and Christopher Lee right down to Sacha Baren Cohen, who succeeds despite his rather thankless role.

Hugo strives to be both a children’s adventure film and a poignant drama about the burden of a forgotten artist, and it largely succeeds as both. What’s more, for any auteurists out there, it certainly feels like a personal project for Martin Scorsese, whose marvelous body of work is fortunate enough to exist in a century with both the technology and inclination to preserve it. No one quite knows how their creative efforts might be remembered in future generations, but this film deftly argues that such efforts ought to be remembered and cherished. What truly makes this is a great family film is not just the zany and inoffensive hijinks that it shares with so many other blockbusters, but also this message, subtly woven throughout a story that is quite worth telling.

FilmWonk rating: 8.5 out of 10

A note on 3D: The film boasts some stunning visual design, although I must say, seeing it in Dolby 3D (high-tech stereoscopic, basically) gave me a bit of a headache, and had far too many on-screen artifacts and reflections to avoid being a distraction. But this is certainly not the fault of the film, whose 3D is easily the best I’ve seen this year. As much as I hate to be a brand partisan, you’d do well to catch it in RealD 3D screening if you can.

Glenn and Daniel stare at the screen for 90 minutes waiting for something to move, reviewing “Paranormal Activity 3″. Will invisible demons and makeshift camera pans strike a memorable horror chord? Tune in and find out (30:11).

May contain NSFW language.

FilmWonk ratings: 5/10 (Glenn), 6/10 (Daniel)

Show notes:

• Correction: we erroneously state that this film made $80 million in its opening weekend. Its actual opening gross was $52 million.
• Today’s show music consists of the themes from Psycho (Bernard Herrmann, 1960) and Halloween (John Carpenter, 1978).


• Why? Well…let’s just say found footage films aren’t known for their innovative scores.
• Happy Halloween!

Listen above, or download: Paranormal Activity 3 (right-click, save as).

There’s a curious trend in modern cinema to slavishly replicate film techniques from years gone by. In some cases, the decision seems purely stylistic – in David O. Russell’s The Fighter, for instance, contemporaneous TV cameras were used to recreate the period look and feel of HBO boxing matches. This deliberate reduction in visual quality seems meant to provoke nostalgia, as well as ground the film in some kind of documentary-style reality as a recent period piece. But never before have I see such deliberate eschewing of modern cinematic technology – in a way that works entirely in favor of style – as in Michel Hazanavicius’ The Artist, which is a genuine black-and-white, silent film, made this year in Hollywood. Given that the film depicts the transition from silent to talking pictures, this format not only feels appropriate for the subject matter, but is seemingly the only format in which this story could have been told.

George Valentin (Jean Dujardin) is a popular silent film star who has just been told rather tactlessly by his studio head (John Goodman) that the future of cinema is in talking pictures. If this is the future, [a title card informs us he says], “They can have it!” Valentin’s career immediately begins to fade into silent obscurity, even as he inadvertently launches the career of rising star Peppy Miller (Bérénice Bejo), whose voice (we’re told) is exquisite enough to attract patrons of the new cinema.

This film is a bit paradoxical, since it could be construed just as easily as a love letter to silent film or a self-aware satire of its constraints. We are “told” a number of silent film’s shortcomings, and “hear” all about old actors mugging for the camera instead of giving fully realized performances. Valentin is a curmudgeonly figure, and a great deal of the character’s sympathy lies in the outside knowledge that his career was doomed from the outset of the film. There’s the obvious point that talking pictures were indeed the future of cinema. The film’s audience knows it, even if the characters do not. There’s also some “Inside Baseball” type context: the rise of talking pictures also marked the beginnings of the studio system, in which actors were contractually beholden to the powerful studios that had discovered them. They owned the actors, as well as every level of production and distribution. Given that Valentin is unwilling to play ball with the new method of film production, his career is unquestionably at an end. Back then, they could say “you’ll never work in this town again”, and it actually meant something.

Jean Dujardin is forced to convey a great deal of emotional nuance through Valentin’s slightest glance or gesture, and the film resorts to techniques and shots that, in any other film, would have seemed incredibly manipulative. There’s a scene late in the film when Valentin confronts a room full of his old belongings, covered in sheets. As the music swells, he dramatically rips down every sheet, revealing the vestiges of his former success, finally staring heartbroken at a prized full-body portrait of himself in a tuxedo. His tears come forth, and Ludovic Bource’s score swells to overpowering heights, just as it does in many other scenes. But somehow, the tense crescendos of music that punctuate this film manage to craft a believable emotional arc of their own, even lacking the additional tones of a wailing, tormented man’s voice. The score supplements the visible emotion and physicality of Dujardin’s performance. These scenes worked, and in this medium, they seemed entirely appropriate.

This is not to say the film was entirely believable – the romance was a hard sell, despite the impressive standalone performances of the two leads – it’s hard to buy them as anything but old friends as the film goes on. The first half was a bit too slow, getting bogged down with history instead of advancing the story. Even so, the tone of the film feels more like a fairy-tale than an accurate depiction of the demise of silent film. But at this point, I must admit – my knowledge of silent film is rather limited. At the time of this writing, I could recall seeing exactly one other silent film – Charlie Chaplin’s Modern Times. While I can’t comment on the parallels (if any) between the fictitious George Valentin and any real-life silent film stars, I do know that all art should stand on its own, and George Valentin is indeed an artist. His obstinate refusal to conform to a new method of artistry could be seen as either noble or foolish, depending on your perspective – but the parallels to modern franchise films and 3D are readily apparent. The future of cinema may or may not lie under the cape of the most popular superhero of the present year, but there are plenty of beloved and respected actors who have made the transition into big-budget comic-book cinema. And while I won’t presume to know the minds of Sirs Patrick Stewart, Ian McKellan, Ben Kingsley, and others – I imagine they would have a great deal to say about the nobility of eschewing one’s own pride in favor of elevating a new form of cinema. Or perhaps they just did it for the money. Who knows.

It is not for us to judge Valentin too harshly, but the film certainly sells the nobility of his struggle. The Artist crafts a complex character’s journey without overly relying on title cards, and conveying a great deal of story via background set design – a technique that has remained effective to this day (Children of Men is a recent example). In the present day, we have no choice but to regard silent film as an anachronistic technical limitation. But in its day, it was the engine that propelled innovative storytelling, and Hazanavicius clearly understands how it succeeded. This film could have been a baseless technical exercise, but with this execution, it’s nothing short of a modern classic.

FilmWonk rating: 8 out of 10

Our friends over at City of Films will be closing out their podcast season this Tuesday, October 18th. Head on over to find out how you can get involved in their final episode! Not only is there an easter egg hidden throughout the first five episodes, but also…

From City of Films:

Also, on the last show we will have a feature called “Guess Who’s Coming To Dinner?” and you can be involved!

So you’re throwing a dinner party and inviting 5 guests of your choosing (living, dead, real or fictional) , who are you inviting? I will toss one of my potential invites out to you so you get an idea…Homer Simpson. I can imagine the laughs and lack of leftovers already.

For details and contact info, check out the post at City of Films.

Update:

The episode has posted, and you can find it right here!

This week, Glenn stumbles forth from a weekend of short film madness to join Daniel and review 50/50, a new comedic drama from director Jonathan Levine and screenwriter Will Reiser, loosely based on Reiser’s own experiences getting cancer at a young age. Can such dour subject matter succeed as a comedy? Tune in and find out (28:54).

[may contain some NSFW language]

FilmWonk rating: 8/10

Show notes:

• 50/50 is out in theaters this Friday, September 30th.
• Music for this episode is “Carries On“, from Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros, which appears in the film’s trailer.
• In the podcast, we refer to Adam’s two “chemo buddies”, who are played by Philip Baker Hall and another actor we weren’t familiar with. The other actor was Matt Frewer.
• Stick around for a blooper if you’re game.

Listen above, or download: 50/50 (right-click, save as).

A note on NSFW… Suffice to say, I saw a lot of films this weekend. The ones that I specifically remember containing adult content, I’ve marked as Not Safe For Work, but I can’t guarantee that the others will be entirely appropriate. Viewer discretion is advised.

Click here for Saturday’s films

Cupid Attack

1. Connect (Director: Samuel Abrahams, UK, 5 minutes)
   
   A brief peek inside the head of a romantic young lady on a bus. Her various imaginative scenarios for the other passengers range from amusing (an upbeat dance number) to fairly dark (a man shooting an old lady in the head for her seat). Finally, she tries to grasp a complete stranger’s hand – a scenario that might be just the teensiest bit creepy, if not for the fact that everyone involved is so young and attractive. But it’s all very sweet. More info and trailer here.

2. Want to spend the rest of my life with you (Director: Manuela Moreno, Spain, 3 minutes)
   
   This is an even quicker imaginative jaunt, very much in the same vein as Connect, and with an even darker twist. Fun stuff. Watch it here.

3. Sign Language (Director: Oscar Sharp, UK, 5 minutes)
   
   This chipper mockumentary about an advertising signholder on a street corner is utterly enjoyable. Ben (Jethro Skinner) loves the job, the ambiance, the office politics, and the historical street nearly as much as he likes the non-union flyer girl on the corner. This absurd premise and quaintly implausible world works because Skinner plays it completely straight, even as the audience is unsure whether his enthusiasm borders on delusion. Given that this is a quickie romance, it’s pretty obvious which way the ending will go, but the film revels in its premise nonetheless. Watch it in HD here.

4. Love & Other Unstable States of Matter* (Director: David Marmor, USA, 24 minutes)
   

   A tinkerer has an amicable breakup with his girlfriend, then accidentally creates a world-ending black hole in his parents’ garage. The family dynamics are hilarious, and seem to come from the Hogwarts School of heightened reality- they talk about universe-bending forces and the end of the world like it ain’t no thang. As for the titular love, the main couple and their breakup are convincing, and their chemistry nicely telegraphs their continuing feelings for each other. I almost got a Shaun of the Dead vibe as they approached their imminent apocalypse together… “You don’t want to die single, do you?”

   Also – did I see the xkcd webcomic’s faux-Unix-terminal at the beginning? [Update: Yep, the director confirmed this] In fact, the film’s tone and treatment of romance felt rather similar to xkcd – science and romance were interspersed and discussed with equal matter-of-factness, with a vein of credible sentiment running underneath it all. This film was a dark comic delight, and the absolute gem of the segment. More info here.

5. Blog Off (Director: Matthew Butler, USA, 5 minutes)
   
   An online love story for our sad, cynical age. It depicts two Londoners videoblogging before their blind date. They Facebook-stalk each other, and given that they have at least one mutual friend (who set them up), it seems likely that they’ll end up seeing each other’s respective cynical, self-hating rants… But of course, in the end, they ooze matching lovestruck grins as they record a final blog entry after actually meeting each other. And of course, it’s meant to feel satisfying. But as a portrait of online dating, it’s still just a bit depressing. More info here.

6. Super. Full. (Director: Niam Itani, Qatar, 13 minutes)
   
   A poor newlywed couple in Qatar struggles financially as the husband promises to take the wife to a fancy restaurant on her birthday. There seem to be some deliberate nods to Ladri di Bicyclette here, but the film’s message seems limited to, “Man, it sucks to be poor.” The couple is also deaf, so a lot must be conveyed through their facial expressions as they communicate through sign language – and that may just be where this movie shines a bit, despite being a bit meandering and overlong. More info here.

Tasveer Presents (tasveer.org)

1. Chaukaith (Threshold) (Director: Deepak Rauniyar, India/Nepal, 18 minutes)
   

   One of the most difficult tasks for any foreign film is to establish a context for outsiders who might have zero familiarity with the culture. This film, set in a Nepalese village, takes that ambition a step further, and tries to establish two distinct cultural contexts – what’s “normal” for women of this culture, and how “normal” it might be considered by members of a different class or subset of the same. We get this cultural back-and-forth by way of a shut-in (and, it seems, religious-conservative) housewife who gets visited by a pair of government census-takers (a man and a woman). The man quickly leaves, noting that the women in this village seem reluctant to speak to men when their husbands are away at work. The film’s feminist dialogue is quite resonant, since absent any religious or cultural factors, this is basically the same perceived dichotomy between family and career that women face in Western culture, played out in the form of an extended dialogue scene. The housewife initially seems content with her existence and lifestyle, and despite the husband’s slightly domineering and patriarchal manner when he gets home, he still appears to be doing everything out of love for his wife and children (bringing them special foods they like, hugging and laughing with his kids, etc).

   This ambiguity plays out visually in a brilliant camera shot of both the smiling husband and the disapproving census-taker watching the housewife help the children with their food, with their subdued facial expressions nicely conveying their contrasting views on the situation. When the census-taker leaves immediately after, I thought the film might end with a satisfying stroke of moral ambiguity. Then, in the final scene, the husband becomes a predatory, emotionally abusive monster. I’m not sure what to make of this ending, except that it definitely had an axe to grind, and the earlier, subtler material made this point a bit less abruptly. This is undeniably an effective film, but its ending, while viscerally satisfying, had the potential to be a lot more interesting.

   Sidenote: I know this might be difficult for an independent film out of Nepal, but I would have liked some more thorough subtitles. It’s hard to say for sure without knowing the language, but many lines in the film seemed to be shortened or even omitted entirely. Watch it here.

2. Theke Pe Kya Karte Ho? (What business here?) (Director: Spandan Banerjee, India, 6 minutes)
   
   A documentary about some adorable kids selling their beer-bottle-opening services in front of a New Delhi liquor store. Business is good, even if the production values are significantly less so. A cute little slice of life, but not much else. Watch it here.

3. Little Miss Eyeflap (Director: Iram Haq, Pakistan/Norway, 9 minutes)
   
   A hilariously over-the-top cross-cultural rendition of the Little Red Riding Hood story, by way of an Pakistani girl in Norway whose parents are trying to stop her from integrating into Norwegian culture. The big bad wolf drives a taxi that says “Respekt” on the side, trying to steer Miss Eyeflap away from a gallant young hunter named Normann Norsk, who literally burns a bridge behind them as he galavants off with his “exotic” new girlfriend. Suffice to say, the imagery in this film is not subtle in the least. But that’s fine. The fairytale visuals strive for a Van Helsing or Alice in Wonderland (2009) level of absurdity, and achieve it masterfully. Yes, I just compared this to two fairly crappy millenial blockbusters. And yes, I mean that as a compliment. Deal with it. Watch it here (non-English site, but video has English subtitles).

4. Manoj* (Director: Zia Mohajerjasbi, India, 14 minutes)
   
   Manoj Krishnamurthy is a funny dude. His standup comedy and on-camera banter are hilarious. But when he kept getting interrupted by a bunch of useless “Behind the Music”-style interstitial talking heads, I expected to get bored with this film. But was I ever wrong… Manoj gradually shows its hand as a mockumentary, and watching various college-educated, totally-not-racist white people fumble over themselves while talking about Manoj’s comedy is nearly as hilarious as Manoj himself. Also amusing is the film’s screenwriter, Hari Kondabolu, who makes an excellent foil as he facetiously complains about being unable to tell “serious jokes” about immigration or genocide, or being mistaken for Manoj himself (who is different from him by exactly one huge beard). The tone reminded me of Louis C.K.’s biting FX series, “Louie” – dark and extremely witty. Watch it here.

   PS: You know those totally-not-racist white people making asses of themselves talking about Manoj? I’m officially one of them, since, this being my 40th film of the weekend, I managed to completely miss that Manoj is actually a fictional character played by Hari Kondabolu himself. Well done, Mr. Kondabolu – that is one hypnotic beard you had. And this yesteryear (and in retrospect, pretty damned obvious) revelation only makes me like the film more.

Best of SIFF 2011 Audience Award Winners

1. North Atlantic* (Director: Bernardo Nascimento, Portugal, 15 minutes)
   

   A sad, quiet conversation between the doomed pilot of a fuel-starved Beech 18 over the North Atlantic and a night-shift control tower operator in the Azores. Well-acted and rather haunting, with some brilliantly atmospheric sound design. The night feels bleak and hopeless, but these two total strangers reach out through the darkness to provide some comfort to one another. Simple and effective. More info and trailer here.

2. The Fantastic Flying Books of Mr. Morris Lessmore (Director: William Joyce & Brandon Oldenburg, USA, 16 minutes)
   

   Butterfly in the sky… I can go twice as high… This film carries on an unabashed love affair with reading, books, authors, and the pursuit of knowledge. It equates them with a rich and full life, and there’s nothing wrong with that. The animation is delightful, and has one particularly clever piece of character design, in the form of a Humpty Dumpty book that flips his pages to change his illustrated facial expression from moment to moment. The film is actually available as an interactive storybook app on the iPad, which seems appropriate. More info, trailer, and iTunes link here.

3. Amazonia (Director: Sam Chen, USA, 5 minutes)
   

   The bubbly, Nickelodeon-style animation belies just how delightfully mean-spirited and terrifying this film is. The protagonist is a scrawny tree frog who’s learning all the tough lessons that the jungle has to offer. Don’t you hate it when your prey tries to stop you from eating it? Just attack while it’s asleep! Or mating! Also, your mentor will steal your food, and everything else in the jungle is trying to eat you. Good luck, little guy! This film plays completely like a labor of love (and indeed, Sam Chen holds nearly every one of the film’s credits himself) – everything about it, from the physical movements of the characters to their precise facial expressions, feels meticulously crafted. More info and trailer/excerpt here.

4. Cataplexy (Director: John Salcido, USA, 8 minutes)
   

   Stop me if you’ve heard this one before… A prostitute walks into her john’s house, only to realize the pair of them are old high school friends. Awkward!

   The main character’s titular condition – instant paralysis if he ever experiences the feeling of love – feels as much like a silly conceit as it feels like an excuse for the main character to remain sympathetic whilst routinely summoning hookers to his door. Independent, sober, adult-aged, English-speaking, non-human-trafficked prostitutes don’t typically need such protective narrative framing (all Richard Gere needed in Pretty Woman was loneliness!), but the point isn’t belabored here in any case. The sheer novelty of reconnecting with your high school sweetheart when she randomly shows up as your high-class hooker is comedy gold, and very well executed. More info and trailer here.

5. New Digs (Director: Martin Sen, South Africa, 2 minutes)
   

   Hamster wants a new cage. [spoilers follow] Hamster gets a new cage.

   Simple and forcibly cute, but rather insubstantial. Official site here.

Astonishing Tales

1. Interview (Director: Sebastian Marka, Germany, 20 minutes)
   

   The titular interview is between a journalist and a wanted serial killer… And frankly, I wonder what I would have thought of this film if I hadn’t spent 90% of its runtime thinking it was a complete ripoff of Se7en (mystery box and all). In the end… It is most definitely a ripoff of Se7en, but it plays on the audience’s expectations quite nicely, throwing several unexpected twists on the concept. More info here.

2. The Legend of Beaver Dam* (Director: Jerome Sable, Canada, 12 minutes)
   

   An ultraviolent campfire ghost story. That’s also a jaunty musical. Fuck. Yes. The closest analogue that comes to mind is Trey Parker and Matt Stone’s Cannibal: The Musical, but unlike that college project, this feels nothing like an amateur production. The music and lyrics are brilliant and dark, the editing is tight, and the practical effects are thoroughly convincing. Beg or borrow, steal or donate, but see this movie. More info/awesome trailer here.

3. Waiting for Gorgo (Director: Ben Craig, UK, 10 minutes)
   

   A British government department is created to battle Godzilla (er…excuse me, Gorgo), and remains open for several decades until a nice, young auditor shows up to find out why it exists. The department consists of two old men (Geoffrey Davies and Nicolas Amer) with some brilliant chemistry and comedic timing between the two – and while the whole thing has a Monty Python meets Brazil level of absurdity, it all seems eerily plausible. It ends rather abruptly, letting the final punchline hang in the air, and leaving the audience to ponder the confluence of faith and self-propagating bureaucracy they’ve just beheld. Not bad. More info/trailer here.

4. All Flowers in Time (Director: Jonathan Caouette, Canada (Québec), 14 minutes)
   

   This is an abstract, barely-narrative mess about frightening faces and red-eyed photos, which I found more tedious than horrifying. This film doesn’t seem to understand the concept that when your effects budget (or expertise) is limited, less is more. And the reverse is also true- the more you show a cheesy visual effect, the less it evokes the intended response. This film was genuinely unsettling, but a combination of bizarre graphics and cacophonous sound design will do that – I took away very little from this experience. More info/trailers here.

5. Car Jack (Director: Jeremiah Jones, USA, 16 minutes)
   

   Ostensibly, this is the tale of a businessman carjacked in a seedy part of San Francisco. The true nature of the film, as well as the true meaning of the title, becomes apparent only in the final moments, and it’s a thoroughly satisfying reveal. This is an undeniably effective thriller that thoroughly understands its genre, and the acting is solid throughout (particularly Mo McRae as Charlie the carjacker). More info and featurettes here.
   
   

6. The Burning Wigs of Sedition (Director: Anna Fitch, USA, 10 minutes)
   

   This film has everything, and that’s not a turn of phrase I use lightly. Fire-dancing. A stormy pirate ship at sea. A slave revolt. A massive brass band. A randy rooster. A multitude of muscular, gender-bending ass shots. And lots and lots of swordplay. Basically, it’s an extended Gunther video on steroids (perhaps by way of Moulin Rouge), with some fantastic costume design. As the Libertine might say- it’s a fine way to cap off the evening. Click here for a live performance by the brass band, which very much illustrates the flavor of this film. More info here.

Quick List: All of the films that are available online:

• I want to spend the rest of my life with you
  
• Sign Language
  
• Chaukaith (Threshold)
  
• What Business Here?
  
• Little Miss Eyeflap (non-English site, but video has English subtitles)
  
• Manoj
  

A note on NSFW… Suffice to say, I saw a lot of films this weekend. The ones that I specifically remember containing adult content, I’ve marked as Not Safe For Work. However, outside of the “Films4Families” block, I can’t guarantee that the others will be entirely appropriate. Viewer discretion is advised.

Click here for Sunday’s films

Films4Families: The International Family Passport

1. Temple Rider (Director: Miles Cheng & Joe Kwun, Hong Kong, 12 minutes)
   
   A fascinating mix of 3D animation and watercolor/pencil textures. A lonely, bullied girl rides her bike through the park before getting spirited away into a labyrinth of madness. It reminded me of several films (some of which I obliquely referenced in the last sentence), but strongly evokes Henry Selick’s Coraline (albeit with a completely different visual style) as the girl descends into a nightmarish monkey circus ruled over by a horrifying and chaotically pencil-drawn baboon. The ensuing chase takes us through several impressive action setpieces, retaining the gorgeous handpainted textures even as the simplistic 3D animation becomes more elaborate. A clever and imaginative journey. Watch it in HD here.

2. Trevor (Director: Matthieu Saghezchi, France, 4 minutes)
   
   Bright and colorful existential crisis of a boy trying to fall asleep at night amid a strange, echoing adult voiceover. Explores some interesting ideas, but they ultimately seem more like the concerns of a grownup than a child (does a kid really worry about CCTV cameras?). Forcibly quirky, kinda boring. Rent it here ($2) or watch the trailer (free).

3. Walkin’ On Snow Grass (Director: Makiko Sukikara, Japan, 7 minutes)
   
   A squirrel dormouse wakes up from hibernation and heads warily out into the winter snow. The main character is as adorable as he is seizure-inducing, with his constantly oscillating watercolor texture. It’s unfortunate, because the twinkling stars and sparkling snow create utterly gorgeous backdrops that feel like illustrations in a children’s book. Combined with some slightly improved sound design – the slightest wind and echo, perhaps – these environments could have been truly immersive and inviting, but we never quite see them as anything beyond pretty paintings. Watch it here.

4. Loser Leg* (Director: Francesco Filippi, Italy, 9 minutes)
   
   A well-executed high concept about a boy born with no bones in his legs who is constantly getting them tied to things (by bullies). The animation is simple and/or low-budget, but effective nonetheless. Its low frame rate (which sometimes drops to still images) is balanced nicely by the narration, staying as hilarious and engaging as a well-drawn comic strip. More info and trailer here.

5. Mobile (Director: Verena Fels, Germany, 7 minutes)
   
   A manic cartoon-physics puzzle involving adorable cloth barnyard animals hanging from either side of a mobile. They slide back and forth as a lonely cow tries desperately to get to the mouse hanging on the other side- his only friend in the world. The character design is top notch, and this film has a manic energy worthy of “Looney Tunes”. Watch it here.

6. Precise Peter (Director: Martin Schmidt, Germany, 6 minutes)
   
   An amusing 2.5D rough polygon-y animation about a family sitting down to dinner in utter lockstep with the precise beat set by their patriarch, Peter. His metronome of audible grunts controls every one of their actions, right down to cutting and eating each bite of their fish in unison. All except for the youngest child, that is. The more he tries to conform, the more everything goes wrong, and the angrier Papa Peter gets. If this weren’t so amusing, it might be horrifying and abusive – but suffice to say, the moral of the story doesn’t end well for Peter. Watch it here, and play an awesome interactive game by the same director here.

Why Aren’t These People Famous?

1. Kevin (Director: Jay Duplass, USA, 35 minutes)
   
   A very personal musical biopic by Jay Duplass (of the Duplass brothers) about Kevin Gant, a singer/songwriter who enjoyed modest LA success in the early 90s with his unique blend of Spanish guitar and imaginative, New-Agey lyrics delivered in a very talky (almost Bob Dylan) style. In 1995, he disappeared from the music scene. Fast forward to 2009, when filmmaker Jay Duplass tracks Gant down working for UPS in Dallas, and asks him why he stopped playing. The answer, like Gant himself, is complicated (and long-winded). Much of this film is Gant monologuing as he drives through Dallas, so it understandably lives or dies based on how well Gant can perform, whether musically or vocally. Luckily, Gant is quite the character, and his wide-eyed enthusiasm and quixotic imagination doesn’t seem to have abated in the ensuing decade. To hear him talk about his creative process, it’s clear that he has an impressive visual mind and a flare for poetic lyrics. This film takes him on a bit of a journey, owing a great deal to Jay Duplass, who freely admits that he overstepped his bounds as a journalist and documentarian in his involvement in Gant’s potential comeback. But despite this ethical quandry, the film might have seemed a bit of a waste if it had ended with Gant finishing his sad recollection and staying put in Dallas with his delivery job. In the end, this is a triumphant tale, and feels like it deserves to be. More info and featurette here.

2. Who is Duffy Bishop? And Why is She Not World Famous?* (Director: Bryan Johnston, USA, 28 minutes)
   
   “I’ll take a voice rich with character over a perfect voice, every time.”

   So says and embodies Duffy Bishop, a little-known Seattle blues singer with an intensely powerful voice and a brilliant eye for performing. My shameful admission is this: I preferred this film to Kevin simply because I enjoyed the musician’s performances far more. The director, Brian Johnston, informed us at the screening that this film was made for $150, via equipment and students borrowed from Ballard High School. But even absent this information, the film is still fairly impressive on a technical level. It relies heavily on a smattering of archival concert footage, and despite the highly variable quality of the image, the sound came through remarkably well, and conveyed all the richness and power of Duffy’s performances that could possibly shine through without seeing and hearing them in person. It’s not only clear that Duffy has a towering vocal presence, but she is also an enthusiastic stage performer, shimmying through the audience with a wireless mic and unabashed enthusiasm. The rest of the film is an exploration of the elusive nature of widespread fame, via interviews and phone calls to record stores around the world to see if they have any Duffy Bishop CDs in stock (this venture doesn’t go well). The editing between the interviews and concert footage is tight, overlapping the performance soundtracks nicely whenever appropriate, without letting them wear out their welcome.

   If there’s one criticism I can raise about this film, it’s that it feels like a relic of the pre-MySpace era. While phoning record stores around the world is an amusing stunt, it doesn’t feel nearly as effective when I consider that I haven’t purchased an album in a record store in ages. I would have liked to see this film address the questions of digital distribution. If a 27-year-old pulp vampire romance writer can make millions on the Kindle Marketplace, surely the parameters of fame have shifted a bit. A quick perusal of Amazon shows five Duffy albums for sale and in stock, with 4/5 available as MP3 downloads. Duffy’s own website lists them for sale as well.

   But you know what? My first inclination leaving this film was to run right out and buy a Duffy album – so if the true message of this film is “Duffy Bishop is an amazing musician”, then it conveyed it quite nicely. More info and featurette.

48 Hour Film Project

1. Painted Love (Director: John Polnick, USA, 8 minutes)
   
   A love story between a paint can and a paintbrush, torn apart when a cheap old man buys the paintbrush and a different can from the store. Shot with brilliant color and a nice, bright atmosphere, mostly with shallow depth of field. Great musical score. More info, including how to watch it online for free here.

2. Battle: Seattle (Director: Aaron Sutherland, USA, 5 minutes)
   
   A fun little alien invasion romp that riffs as much on Seattleite iPhone users as aliens. As these three gents stand within view of flying saucers demolishing downtown Seattle, but prefer to watch the footage on “Yootoob” and make sarcastic quips, it was more of a crackup than I expected. Goofy as all getup, but fun for a few minutes. Watch it here.

3. Humpty (Director: Dmitriy Levanchuk, USA, 5 minutes)
   
   An argument between a drunken, paint-huffing, anthropomorphic egg on a wall and a poorly acted strumpet/wedding planner below. But really, I was sold on just the egg. He’s got the self-hating pre-wedding jitters something fierce, and he conveys it quite nicely as a human face overlaid (Steve Oedekerk style) on an egg held in a hand. He bitches most elegantly. Watch it here.

4. Mein Cupcake* (Director: Deirdre Timmons, USA, 7 minutes)
   
   Easily the most polished of the 48-hour films. A little girl is denied cupcakes by her fascist, S&M-loving parents, and heads to the attic to play out this violent feud with her dolls. As we descend into her fantasy world, twisted versions of her mother and father appear with a vengeance, all determined to deny her that sweet, frosty goodness. The costume design is impeccable, and this film has both the best fight choreography and largest number of Hitlers of any film I saw today. Watch it here (NSFW).

5. So Many Options (Director: Jeremy Cavner, USA, 6 minutes)
   
   This film owes a great deal to actor Steven Gerard, as well as the writing of his gleeful serial killer. This character is so vocally and physically pitch-perfect, it makes this film a dark comedy delight. Also, given the short timeframe, the cinematography and lighting are top-notch. Watch it here.

6. Séance Anything (Director: David Jolosky, USA, 5 minutes)
   
   The bearded, slurpee-sucking séance artist was entertaining… The rest fell prey to a decent sketch concept played out by actors who really didn’t play to any sort of reality. Whether you’re happy or sad that your fiancée is dead on the eve of your wedding, at least make me believe it matters to you on some level. Watch it here.

Nerds Unite!

1. The Dungeon Master (Director: Rider Strong & Shiloh Strong, USA, 14 minutes)
   
   A group of skeptical hipsters play D&D for the first time in years. One of them makes a rookie mistake of pointlessly murdering an innocent goblin, then transforms into a ridiculous villain in real life, chastising their thoroughly capable dungeon master for his commitment to his [thoroughly nerdy] craft. The film’s tone (and indeed, its attitude about role-playing games) is a bit inconsistent, but the Evil Hipster is certainly meant to be the bad guy. And the film takes a bit of a magical turn at the end with some unexpectedly strong production values. And hey, it’s co-directed by this guy. More info, trailer, and featurette here.

2. Monster Flu (Director: Brian Wiebe, USA, 7 minutes)
   
   A germaphobe shut-in (Vincent) and his best friend, an unlicensed Muppet named Toby, are forced to venture outside the apartment for the first time in 4 years. This film is strange, but semi-enjoyable – although it cuts off before making much of a point about either character. But at least we get to see Vincent masturbate with rubber gloves. So there’s that. More info here.

3. A Comic Author X-Ray (Director: Marcos Nine, Spain, 20 minutes)
   
   David Rubin is no good in front of the camera. Or with people. As a camera-shy comic book artist, he seems a risky choice for a documentary film subject. The film ultimately becomes a mix of live camera footage in which Rubin comes off as a bit of a self-important douche, and comic book cells (drawn by Rubin) in which he freely admits as much, and comments on the film being made. Like Adaptation before it, this film becomes an elegant, making-of-itself documentary. It goes on a bit too long, and there’s far too much overwrought meta-text literally written across the screen, but I came away more fascinated by Rubin than I thought I would be. And whether or not I liked the documentary, there’s no denying that Rubin is a talented artist. Watch the trailer.

4. King Chicken* (Director: Nicolas Bolduc, Canada/Québec, 7 minutes)
   
   King Chicken is a socially awkward man who walks around with headphones on, introduces himself with a business card (that says King Chicken), and gets romantic advice from a language-learning tape that schools him in real-time how to win the girl of his dreams, who’s sitting directly behind him. This was a delightful film with a rousing soundtrack, and Patrice Beauchesne gives a hilarious physical performance as the title character. Trailer here.

Best of SIFF 2011 Jury Winners

1. The Eagleman Stag* (Director: Mikey Please, UK, 9 minutes)
   

   The visual style of this BAFTA-award-winning film is colorless stop-motion animation, using materials made of paper, plaster, and/or styrofoam – like nothing I’ve ever seen before. Our narrator begins as a fetus in the womb, and proceeds to walk us through his entire life, family, and career as a naturalist, as well as his evolving perceptions of time. If time is perceived as a fraction of your total lifespan, he explains, that’s why a moment seems much longer when you’re a child than when you’re an adult. This film spells out its high-minded point by way of a sardonic voiceover narration- something that could have seemed didactic and annoying – but it did so with a brilliant, sharp wit. Trailer and official site here.

2. Library of Dust (Director: Robert James/Ondi Timoner, USA, 15 minutes)
   

   From director Ondi Timoner (We Live In Public) comes a documentary about unclaimed “cremains” (cremated ashes) of deceased patients from Oregon State Hospital (formerly Oregon State Insane Asylum). This film attempts to raise some points regarding the conditions of the mentally ill, but really only succeeds in saying that things used to be pretty bad. The only present-day patients we see are in clean, vibrant, brightly-lit surroundings, and are the fresh recipients of a brand new $500 million facility, courtesy of the State Legislature.

   The film spends far too much time talking about the “terrible” conditions of these ash canisters. These carefully catalogued and differentiated canisters. These canisters which were sealed and stored using the best methods available at the time. These canisters which were only damaged when the area was hit with a natural disaster. Frankly, given the number of unmarked and mass graves that have existed throughout history, I’d say these unclaimed ashes were in remarkably good condition. The film attempts to attribute metallurgical decay to spiritual turbulence [read: angry ghosts] rather than time and unintended moisture, but the only real “villain” it manages to latch onto is the families who haven’t claimed these ashes – the families who almost certainly don’t know they exist.

   I’m not entirely sure why this film was made. It definitely has a point to make, but I found it utterly self-deluding and unconvincing. Yes, it’s sad to be forgotten. But it’s the fate that awaits us all. Rather than obsess about our own mortality and legacy, it’s better to make the world a nicer place for the ones who are still here. And by the time this film was made, this had already occurred for the mentally ill of Oregon. More info and trailer here.

3. Deeper Than Yesterday (Director: Ariel Kleiman, Australia, 20 minutes)
   
   A harrowing tale of men left to their own devices aboard a Russian submarine for 3 months. I don’t envy the parents of the little girl to the front left of me who will have to explain to her what interest these sailors might have in a waterlogged female corpse. And this is not the only untoward tendency we see indulged during this film. These men are lonely, angry, and on the brink of losing their humanity. This film makes its point well, albeit disturbingly. More info and trailer here.

4. Time Freak (Director: Andrew Bowler, USA, 11 minutes)
   
   An amusing twist on a Groundhog Day-like concept, wherein the inventor of a time machine goes back in time one day to correct every little mistake he made…on that day. Forget Ancient Rome; he hasn’t even made it to the afternoon yet. Despite the presence of Primer-like timeline charts and equations, this film isn’t striving for a mind-bending time travel story, but rather a simple buddy comedy in an elegant sci-fi wrapper. Very well executed. More info and trailer here.

Animation for Adults

1. Loom (Director: Jan Bitzer/Ilija Brunck/Csaba Letay, Germany, 7 minutes)
   
   Astonishing macro view of a moth caught in a spider’s web, attacked, and devoured. The scene then slows way down and zooms to the molecular level, as we see venom and silk forming within the spider’s body. This is an utterly terrifying film – depicting a spider as a perfect, mechanized killing machine. Watch it in HD here.

2. Vicenta (Director: Samuel Orti Marti, Spain, 23 minutes)
   
   This is a very, very adult claymation film, and that appears to be all it set out to be. It’s chock full of explicit language, sex, violence, no less than three Matrix references, and an abundance of juvenile humor. I can now remove “doggy-style sex” from my dwindling list of things I’ve never seen stop-motion animated. That said, what starts as a man mistreating his wife takes a turn for the macabre halfway through, as he dies before revealing the whereabouts of his lottery winnings. It’s all a bit lurid, but undeniably fun. And the subtitles are hilariously, inexcusably bad. Surely there are enough Spanish/English translators available that something like this should never see the light of day, but it only adds to the film’s pulp appeal. More info, trailer.

3. flesh color (Director: Masahiko Adachi, Japan, 5 minutes)
   
   Combination of Japanese animated koi (and other pond imagery) swimming turbulently around the skin of still or stop animated nude models. An elegant piece of mixed media. Watch it here (NSFW).

4. Paths of Hate* (Director: Damian Nenow, Poland, 10 minutes)
   
   Two prop planes dogfight through a gorgeous skyscape of monstrous clouds and towering mountains. They are the well-sketched comic-book face of rage – determined at any cost to do each other harm. This is glorious and kinetic violence, appropriately jarring to behold. More info and trailer here.

5. Stanley Pickle* (Director: Vicky Mather, UK, 12 minutes)
   
   I love, love, love stop motion that makes use of real live humans. It’s not just the jerky, unsettling motion that sells it- it’s the visual tricks and flourishes that would be impossible in any other medium. Among the multitude of brilliant shots is a girl seemingly ice-skating around a forest floor, and the title character’s parents recreated as malfunctioning windup toys. The time-lapse nature of these shots is apparent at times, as we see Stanley watching the girl dance through a meadow from his window, as clouds and trees alike show that hours are actually passing as these shots are culled. It’s all terribly gorgeous, and its simple theme – about life, death, and letting go – is conveyed nicely. More info and trailer here.

6. Visitation (Director: Suzan Pitt, USA, 9 minutes)
   
   There has been at least one world of grotesque, non-narrative madness in every festival, and this year is no exception. I suppose it was just a matter of time before one came along that I enjoyed. The imagery in this film is disturbing, but well-conceived – evoking the Platonic “Allegory of the Cave” among other things. I can’t say it was a pleasant experience, but it was a fascinating one. More info here.

7. Eye of the Storm (Director: Christopher Alender, USA, 6 minutes)
   
   This would seem to be a music video from the Zack Snyder school of heightened reality. The animation of this lone airship pilot drifting through an endless sky is utterly gorgeous and nearly photorealistic (in that video-gamey, HDR sorta way). That said, I think Zack Snyder did this film a disservice, since I’ve seen animation this true-to-life before, which, by itself, is no longer sufficient to impress. The film has no dialogue and almost no narrative, and the only thing I remember distinctly about it is an oddly simplistic-looking dragon (which flew in the face of every other piece of animation). For a purely technical exercise, 6 minutes was a bit too long, but perhaps fans of the band would disagree. Watch it here.
   
   
8. Rosa (Director: Jesús Orellana, Spain, 9 minutes)
   
   I felt at several points like I was going to vomit while watching this. As a cyborg girl awakens and runs for her life, a series of violent clashes ensue, each more horrific and pointless than the last. The entire thing felt like an unadulterated mashup of every video game cutscene I’ve ever been unable to skip through. The girls all look like buxom, pouty-lipped dominatrixes, the blood-splatter is worthy of a bukkake film, and the dingy, grey-brown world is vomited forth in a sickening soft glow and jarring, schizophrenic cuts. As if this world wasn’t unpleasant enough, we also get a relentless series of interstitial POV shots of the girl’s blurry, green-hued cyborg-vision. None of this is to say the film looked cheap (with the exception of some dubious motion whenever the characters jumped through the air and landed). On the contrary, a great deal of money, artistry, and animation man-hours were clearly spent on this derivative monstrosity. What a waste. More info and trailer here.

Quick List: All of the films that are available online

• Temple Rider
  
• Walkin’ On Snow Grass
  
• Mobile
  
• Battle: Seattle
  
• Humpty
  
• Mein Cupcake (NSFW)
  
• So Many Options
  
• Séance Anything
  
• Loom
  
• flesh color (NSFW)

Spoiler warning: This review will reveal plot details that appear in the film’s trailer.

It’s easy to overlook just how smart and well-executed this film is, given that Rise of the Planet of the Apes nearly drowns in its rush to saturate itself with big-budget blockbuster stupidity. Ostensibly, this film is a prequel/reboot of the original Planet of the Apes, but it feels – with the exception of some slightly obnoxious callbacks – like a standalone film. The premise is rather similar to the film adaptation of I Am Legend. In his arrogant rush to cure a debilitating disease (in this case Alzheimers), [Dr?] Will Rodman (James Franco) develops a drug that triggers neurogenesis – the repair and creation of brand new neurons in the brain. When this drug is tested on our closest genetic relative, the chimpanzee, a slew of Unforeseen Consequences™ ensue.

The majority of the film is told from the perspective of Caesar, another brilliant simian team-up from motion-capture dynamo Andy Serkis and Peter Jackson’s team at Weta Digital. This is the same actor and effects team behind King Kong in 2005, and Gollum in Lord of the Rings before him. If there is a measuring stick that indicates where the performance ends and the effects begin, it is certainly inconclusive here. While Zoe Saldana’s Avatar alter ego at least had some emoted lines of dialogue to work with, Serkis must work almost entirely through facial expressions and miscellaneous noises. So much of Caesar’s apparent intelligence is due to his ability to simply sit and react quietly to what goes on around him. The slightest glance – the recognition that occurs when the audience gazes into the character’s green-flecked eyes – this is how Caesar conveys his inner consciousness and unmistakeable intelligence – and it is a work of absolute visual brilliance.

In addition to the facial capture, Caesar’s motion and physicality are nothing short of fantastic. The opening shot of the second act fast-forwards a few years to an extended tracking shot of Caesar swinging through Will’s house in order to follow some children playing out in the street. The shot lasts maybe 30 seconds, but it manages to convey both Caesar’s acrobatic capabilities as well as his burgeoning intellect with absolutely no dialogue or explanation. The film definitely strains its economy of dialogue at times – some brief moments of subtitled ape sign language were perhaps a bit of a stretch. But as a means of telling a coherent story in which significant portions of the screen-time are occupied by nothing but a smattering of apes – both alone and interacting with one other, it is an effective storytelling device.

In fact, I would take it a step further – the almost silent-movie story of the apes is easily the most compelling part of this film. The more talented members of the human cast are barely utilized. Brian Cox and Tom Felton appear as John and Dodge Landon, a father-son team running a primate sanctuary. Cox barely has five minutes of screentime in which to twirl his evil mustache before Felton usurps his position as ape-hater-in-chief. While it’s believable that a sociopath like Dodge might have trouble finding outside employment, it’s never entirely clear why he agrees to work at his father’s sanctuary when he clearly detests apes and everything about their care. But…sure, why not. Every good prison flick needs a sadistic screw on the cell block, and Felton proves that he can chew the scenery just as effectively without a British accent or magic wand.

Outside of Caesar’s storyline, Franco and his supporting cast are downright tedious. John Lithgow plays Will’s senile father, Charles, and gives a frankly cartoonish depiction of advanced Alzheimer’s. Equally cartoonish was Will’s next door neighbor (David Hewlett), whom we’re meant to despise because he has a problem with vicious, man-sized apes threatening his children, or senile old men trying to steal his car. Does he have some rage issues? Sure. But is he wrong?

Speaking of generic ethical subtext, Freida Pinto is a complete non-entity as Will’s love interest, seemingly present only to pose some of the more obvious bits of rhetorical dialogue about the situation: “What about Caesar?” “How does he fit into this?” “Some things are just wrong, Will!” But in spite of its boring cadre of homo sapiens, this film manages to tackle the ethics of raising a creature with near-human intelligence about as effectively (and with less lurid sensationalism) as last year’s Splice.

The film’s last act is pretty much non-stop action as the apes rampage through San Francisco. This entire sequence is brilliantly executed, both in terms of visual effects and action staging, and its more implausible elements are balanced out by a mix of effective character moments and a taut, exhilarating pace. Sure, the apes probably shouldn’t understand the importance of smashing security cameras. Sure, the military and police could probably take down an unarmed ape rebellion with relative ease. And sure, we’d probably see a lot more blood if this weren’t rated PG-13. But between the element of surprise (no one really expects a simian army wielding fence-posts) and the apes’ relatively benign intentions, they come off as surprisingly sympathetic even as they’re smashing cars and tossing cops. The whole sequence is purposeful and utterly thrilling, and left me eager to see the next chapter in this story.

Unfortunately, the next chapter is spelled out in a brief scene and infographic after the credits have rolled for a minute or so. I’ll chalk that up to the same marketing wisdom that led to the film’s nonsensical title change from the much more fitting Rise of the Apes. This additional bit of superfluous, Avengers-esque storytelling doesn’t ruin the film, but you’re probably better off leaving your seat as soon as the names start to roll.

FilmWonk rating: 7.5 out of 10

Friends With Benefits is not the first R-rated comedy (this year) to try and tackle the subject of friends having casual sex, but it is certainly the most successful. Ivan Reitman’s No Strings Attached, which was surprisingly schmaltzy and un-raunchy for a film whose inception was a script called “Fuckbuddies”*, managed to fall prey to a host of rom-com clichés, and became quite tonally bizarre by its end. “I’m the guy she marries. You’re just the guy she used to fuck a few times.” Does a line like this (easily that film’s most memorable and disturbing) really belong in a comedy? But for all of that film’s romantic and tonal shortcomings, it might have still been a successful sex comedy if it hadn’t fallen prey to the double death knell of uninteresting characters having uninspiring sex.

Friends With Benefits, from Easy A director Will Gluck, seems as aware of romantic comedy clichés as it is determined to avoid them. Executive head-hunter Jamie (Mila Kunis) and magazine art director Dylan (Justin Timberlake) speak quite frankly of their views on love and relationships, but always through the filter of cinema (by way of an atrocious film-within-a-film starring Jason Segel and Rashida Jones). The strength of Friends With Benefits lies as much in the captivating chemistry between its leads as the bold choices in its screenplay. The film doesn’t tell us that Dylan and Jamie are friends, by way of some shared off-screen history or common acquaintances. It shows them becoming friends from the outset, and the two completely pull it off. Kunis and Timberlake’s delivery feels a bit theatrical in the first act, but for a pair of complete strangers who are believably hitting it off, a bit of heightened, first-date performance doesn’t go amiss. As their friendship develops, they are as believable confiding in each other emotionally as they are at giving each other a bit of good-natured shit-talking, and that’s really all this friendship needed.

Oh, and did I mention that they have a whole lot of hot, dirty sex? The first half of this film is a delightful and unrelenting sex romp, and that’s exactly what it needed to be. With the exception of some awkwardly drawn sheets and obvious body doubles, this film’s depiction of sex feels as authentic as the majority of its dialogue.

Woody Harrelson may be the glaring exception. His gay sportswriter, Tommy (who commutes from Jersey by boat, and whose first line includes the phrase “trolling for cock”) is about as cartoonish a character as there is in the film, but is saved entirely by Harrelson’s commitment and delivery. In fact, Tommy is a fine example of the tenuous relationship with reality that is at play in this film. Friends With Benefits will be trifling and silly when it feels the need to (a completely unnecessary sequence atop the Hollywood sign comes to mind) but it will always return to a place of credible emotional resonance.

Dylan and Jamie’s relationship evolves nicely as we learn more about their respective families, and this is where Jamie may have been a bit short-changed. Jamie’s mother Lorna is a nice comedic turn from Patricia Clarkson, but the character feels just a little bit slight when compared to Dylan’s family, whose storyline takes an unexpectedly serious turn (which featured some brilliant supporting work from Richard Jenkins). To see Dylan and Jamie struggle with something a bit less pleasant was both unexpected and welcome, and only served to make them more believable as friends. And what’s more, it reinforced their credibility as characters with emotional lives outside of what we see on screen.

Friends With Benefits is both a fun, sexy romp and a capable romance, but it is also surprisingly emotionally resonant. Rather than forcibly building toward some insipid romantic climax, we simply get to see these two exist as friends for a while. And as this slice of their collective life went on, I found myself rooting for the duo to work out, but not particularly caring how they managed it. While the likability of these characters demands a certain Hollywood ending, this film almost feels as if it could just as easily end with them staying friends or staying in love. But more importantly, either outcome would have felt completely earned and satisfying.

FilmWonk rating: 7 out of 10

*Thanks to Peter Sciretta from /Film for making sense of the convoluted title history of these two films.

This week, Glenn and Daniel short-circuit their brains to review Transformers: Dark of the Moon (32:21).

[may contain some NSFW language]

FilmWonk rating: 5/10

Show notes:

• Music for this episode is from Steve Jablonsky’s original score for the film (track: “Dark Side of the Moon”).

Listen above, or download: Transformers: Dark of the Moon (right-click, save as).

X-Men: First Class had a tall order to fill. We’ve already had two solid films examining the fantastic mutant powers, conflicting ideologies, and disillusioned friendship of Charles Xavier (“Professor X”) and Erik Lehnsherr (“Magneto”). To return to that friendship at its inception could have seemed little more than a cynical cash-grab – a storytelling dead-end whose fan-service ending was a foregone conclusion. Instead, Matthew Vaughn has delivered a film that proves he is as adept at delivering an earnest, character-driven superhero film as he was at superhero parody. This film may or may not be the best in the franchise, but it certainly belongs in the same conversation as X2, and perhaps even The Dark Knight, if not quite ascending to the standalone appeal of those films.

The highest praise I can give to James McAvoy’s take on Charles Xavier is that at no point did I doubt that this man grows up to Patrick Stewart’s version of the character. Tackling a role that has been so completely defined by another actor is a difficult undertaking, and the result is no mere imitation of Stewart’s Xavier, but neither is it a complete reimagining (à la Chris Pine in Star Trek). This Xavier is reserved and wise, but hardly unafraid to use his powers in the reckless milieu of a younger man. In fact, this Xavier is downright arrogant, using his powers to convincingly sweet-talk coeds and other mutants alike, all while playing fast and easy with the most intimate details of their minds and memories. This Xavier might make a fair psychologist, but his approach to friendship is downright invasive. His banter with Erik (Michael Fassbender) ends up striking a note somewhere between therapist and Yoda, trying simultaneously to make the other man come to terms with his most painful experiences and unlock the full potential of his mutant powers. It’s a fascinating interaction, to be sure, and it certainly drives the second half of this film despite being established through a rather hasty montage. I wasn’t sure how much I would buy this friendship, but it cascaded into a brilliant finale. More on this later.

First, I must touch on the villainous Sebastian Shaw (Kevin Bacon), which is certainly one of the reasons this film belongs in the same conversation as The Dark Knight. Not only is Shaw a thoroughly memorable and well-written nemesis, but he also represents an achievement that few films have managed to accomplish in recent years – an utterly terrifying villain (or set of villains, in this case). Shaw expresses his affinity for Nazi tactics early in the film, and the reason quickly becomes evident. Scene: A tornado spontaneously erupts outside a building, and a guard vanishes in a puff of crimson smoke. He reappears 100 feet in the air, instantly falling to his death. The attrition continues as buildings rip to shreds and it literally starts raining men (hallelujah!).

This is just a snippet of one of the many brilliant action set-pieces, but it demonstrates two of the great strengths of this film. First, it makes full and clever use of the array of mutant powers at its disposal (from heroes and villains alike). And second, Shaw and his associates carry out their malicious plans with such brutal and relentless efficiency that it’s simultaneously horrifying and captivating to behold.

Also terrifying is the man-who-would-be-villain, Magneto. After narrowly escaping the Holocaust (and the brutal experimentation of Shaw), Erik passes a brief stint as a Nazi hunter, ruthlessly pursuing the worst offenders who have fled to Argentina. This plays almost like a sequence from Fassbender’s other best known film, Inglourious Basterds – and the parallels seem fairly deliberate. Fassbender speaks several languages and visits unflinching brutality upon his malefactors. Given that Xavier’s central conflict with Erik is the extent to which they should wage war upon humanity, this makes for a compelling backdrop for their burgeoning friendship later in the film. Xavier’s other relationship – a childhood friendship with Raven, AKA “Mystique” (Jennifer Lawrence), is quite fascinating at the beginning of the film, but gets short shrift as soon as Magneto enters the picture. Given Raven’s character arc, this seems somewhat deliberate on the filmmakers’ part, but it is unfortunate, given that these early scenes are the best opportunity for Lawrence to show off her acting prowess. Her later interactions with Hank “Beast” McCoy (Nicholas Hoult) are less interesting, even though Beast’s Jekyll-and-Hyde story turns out to be a compelling subplot (or at least a showcase for a brilliant bit of first-person camerawork).

There is a host of other characters in this film, which may leave prospective audience members questioning the extent to which this film is just for the fans – suffering from character and villain overload like so many other late entries to a superhero franchise. To that, I would simply say that this film is an achievement in both casting and storytelling. It brings a great many disparate characters together and manages to tell us a little something about each one without leaving the film feeling bloated. And in the end, the mutants – heroes and villains alike – do their dance as the humans look on in terrified awe. The American and Russian observers are then forced to act in a way that doesn’t feel entirely believable, but nonetheless forces Erik Lehnsherr to become the villain that he needs to be. In the blink of an eye, he is Magneto.

And indeed, this is the problem with origin stories. If you’re explaining the origins of something simple, like radioactive spider powers, your explanation can be equally rudimentary. To explain something as complex and multifaceted as Magneto’s decades-long disillusionment with mankind is a bit more difficult. But while such a protracted explanation may have been slightly more believable, I’ll grant that it’s not particularly cinematic. And all of these elements, along with McAvoy and Fassbender’s performances, brought together an action-packed and thematically pitch-perfect finale that felt almost completely earned.

FilmWonk rating: 7.5 out of 10

This week on the podcast, Glenn and Daniel head for the Seattle International Film Festival to review Littlerock, the story of a pair of Japanese siblings finding their way through a desert town in California. Glenn’s lovely fiancee Megan jumps in to expound on the nature of a “nice guy” and offer her unique perspective as a fluent Japanese speaker. Click below to listen to our discussion of this surprise cross-cultural gem [may contain some NSFW language] (19:09).

FilmWonk ratings: 8.5/10 (Glenn), 9/10 (Megan), 8.5/10 (Daniel)

Show notes:

• The actor in attendance at the screening was Ryan Dillon, who plays Brody in the film.
• Music for this episode is the track “Bramble“, by The Cave Singers, from the film’s original soundtrack.

Listen above, or download: Littlerock (right-click, save as).

Another Earth is an ambitious film, to be sure. It depicts the sudden appearance of another planet, seemingly identical to our own, in perfect view in the skies above New Haven, CT. The planet appears in nearly every outdoor shot of the film, which made me momentarily wonder if a planet that is visibly larger and closer than the moon in geostationary orbit might be catastrophic for our planet’s tides, tectonic plates, continued human existence, and so forth.

While the film doesn’t directly address these issues, it’s possible that similar worries are flowing through the head of Rhoda Williams (Brit Marling), a 17-year-old student who has recently been accepted to MIT. On the night that Earth Two appears, she is driving under the influence and gazing up at the new planet, and the distraction is sufficient to send her careening into the family station wagon of music professor John Burroughs (William Mapother from “Lost”), putting him into a coma and instantly killing his wife and son. At this point, the film skips ahead 4 years, as Rhoda emerges from prison and gets it into her head to reconnect with John (who has since awoken) to apologize, and because she was a minor at the time of the accident, her name was sealed in the court records, and he has no idea who she is. At this point, the film effectively ditches its sci-fi premise and becomes an exploration of an extremely ill-advised relationship between the two, as well as a study of grief and regret. Earth Two becomes a cipher – an ever-present reminder of what Rhoda has done that could have been replaced with virtually anything else – a photograph? A roadside memorial?

It was in that sense that the film was disappointing. As Rhoda enters a contest with a private space agency (in a nice bit of worldbuilding) for the first commercial flight to Earth Two, we’re meant to believe it’s something she desperately wants for herself, but the film never quite sells this idea. Instead, it just ends up comparing unfavorably to a film like Gattaca, in which the romance of spaceflight and the unrelenting desire to achieve it make up an ever-present and thoroughly convincing backdrop. This film gives us Rhoda’s prior interest in astronomy, as well as the occasional gaze through a telescope (in broad daylight, through a window), but we’re never sure if she really wants to go to Earth Two, or if she simply no longer wishes to live on Earth One, where she’s caused so much pain and suffering.

The film has an undeniably effective sci-fi premise (on-the-nose metaphors notwithstanding), but it never quite succeeded in portraying a world in which such a mindbending event has occurred. All the fascinating bits of hard sci-fi are relegated to momentary snippets from talking heads on radio and TV, and the few everyday people that we meet never quite seem like their lives have been altered significantly. A sudden third-act revelation about the occupants of Earth Two is also not explored in sufficient detail, particularly by those who are considering making the trip.

Nonetheless, Marling and Mapother’s performances are convincing, and effectively sell the increasing stakes of their relationship as Rhoda continues to hide her true identity. While Another Earth doesn’t succeed as a piece of science fiction, it is at least somewhat effective as an exploration of grief and regret.

FilmWonk rating: 5.5 out of 10

Written/directed by Reha Erdem

As a general rule, I will not seek out writer/director interviews in order to increase my understanding of a film that I intend to write about. Since this film was followed by a director Q&A, I was not expecting to write a review – but for Kosmos, I will make an exception. First, because there is enough inexplicable weirdness in this film to make David Lynch blush. And second, because the Q&A only illuminated the extent to which a shit-eating grin transcends language barriers, as Erdem’s good-natured amusement at the audience’s befuddled response (and refusal to answer any questions in detail) was apparent even via translator.

The film begins with the titular Kosmos (Sermet Yasil) appearing outside a Turkish mountain village and immediately saving the life of a boy drowning in the river. The boy is ostensibly frozen to death when Kosmos plucks him from the water, but walks away nonetheless, the first of many to be aided by Kosmos’ ability to cure all manner of ailments, both physical and mental. He also speaks in very formal, almost scriptural language, expounding in broad strokes about the nature of God, man, good and evil, and so forth. He also breaks into a cheese shop and steals money from the cash drawer. And he also courts the girl of his dreams, Neptün (Türkü Turan), via a giddy, animalistic call-and-response game, in which the two chase each other around the village while blasting high-pitched, ornithic love-screams.

While Kosmos is a bizarrely fascinating character – equal parts Doctor Who, Jesus Christ, and psychotic hobo – he is but a small component of this densely packed film. Old men in a tea shop debate a petition to open up the border to trade, even as their wary attitudes about outsiders become readily apparent. The army conducts some kind of exercise nearby, giving the town a constant rumble of distant munitions explosions. A satellite is also poised to crash, and we hear snippets of its failing radio signal throughout the film. And what’s more, the townsfolk complain about this as if it’s a common occurrence.

I don’t dare summarize any more plot (I’ve omitted a story lifted wholesale from Weekend at Bernie’s), but suffice to say, there’s a lot going on in this film, and I was completely taken in by it. Kosmos is an incredibly rich (and beautifully shot) experience that I suspect will become even richer on subsequent viewings. While its weirdness for weirdness’ sake wore on my patience a bit by the third act, I’ve still found myself pondering the lives and interactions of this small-town slice of life every day since I saw the film. From the politicos in the tea shop to the random flocks of geese, I would gladly spend more time with all of them – even Kosmos with his migraine-inducing bird calls.

FilmWonk rating: 7.5 out of 10

This week, Nick returns to throw down the gauntlet and help Glenn review Kenneth Branagh’s Thor, the latest entry in the Avengers saga. Will it be a worthy standalone film, or merely a S.H.I.E.L.D.-infused trailer for what’s to come? Listen below to find out [may will contain some NSFW language] (24:21).

FilmWonk ratings: 5/10 (Glenn), 4/10 (Nick)

Show notes:

• Music for this episode is from Patrick Doyle’s original score for the film (track: “Sons of Odin”).

Listen above, or download: Thor Part 1, Part 2 (right-click, save as).

Walter Black (Mel Gibson) is a severely depressed, self-hating individual who pulls himself back from the brink of suicide and starts talking through a stuffed beaver puppet he finds in a dumpster. This performance may be hard to write about, but it was even harder to watch. The beaver persona strikes a comedic note at first, but these beats seem increasingly out of place as the film descends further and further into Walter’s insanity. Whenever Walter is forced to speak in his own voice (without the jaunty British accent), Gibson conveys such intractable discomfort and crippling hopelessness with every syllable that you wonder how Walter has managed to stave off suicide thusfar. His mere existence is a punishing chore. At the beginning of the film, I wondered if I would be able to judge this film without pondering Gibson’s real-life persona. By the end, I forgot Gibson entirely and found myself nearly weeping for the increasingly pitiful creature that is Walter Black. This performance may be unpleasant to watch, but it is certainly one of Gibson’s finest.

Did I mention Walter has a teenage son? When Porter Black (Anton Yelchin) isn’t selling term papers to his high school classmates or romancing one of his clients (Jennifer Lawrence), he spends his time writing down Post-Its of every one of his similarities to his father, no matter how minute (“Rubs eyebrows”), in staunch determination to eliminate every last one of them before he heads off to college. To this end, he is also planning a contrived roadtrip worthy of Elizabethtown, wherein he will visit locations around the country where “everything changed forever” (such as the balcony where Martin Luther King was shot), in a desperate effort to find himself.

I’ll be blunt – I hated this character. He felt like the worst sort of indie cliché, and I found every moment of his screentime excruciating. By the end of the film, we’re seemingly meant to draw parallels between Porter and his father, but they never quite landed. Apart from some apparent OCD, Porter seems a great deal more high-functioning, intelligent, and capable than Walter. While it’s certainly possible that he might slip into a depressed and self-destructive state, the film never really shakes the feeling that no matter what happens, this kid will be just fine. Yelchin’s performance is acceptable, but the character just feels sloppily and unbelievably written.

In fact, suspension of disbelief is one of the hardest things about watching The Beaver – this story never quite feels like it could take place in the real world. Porter’s subplot took up nearly half of the film and felt like a complete distraction, and Walter’s story also felt unfocused. While I could accept the absurd degree to which Walter’s family and colleagues accepted his newfound puppetry, his rapid ascendence to fame over a nationwide craze of…children’s woodchopping kits (?) was just too much of a stretch, and felt completely out of place amid the dark family drama that was brewing.

Jodie Foster (also the film’s director) gives a heartbreaking performance as Walter’s wife Meredith – she and Gibson have always had impressive chemistry together, and this film tests it to destruction. In one of the film’s best scenes, the couple goes out to dinner for their 20th anniversary – without spoiling how it ends, I will say that it was physically uncomfortable to watch, and that it was an impressive showcase of both acting and direction.

Porter’s love interest, Norah (Lawrence) gives a rather unsettling speech near the end of the film, ostensibly spelling out its message – maybe everything’s not going to be okay, but at least we’ve got each other. The tone of this speech was as dark as the rest of the film, but as a moral of this somber tale, it somehow works. The Beaver is a deeply flawed, but profoundly affecting film. I can’t say I especially welcomed its effects, but it may be a fascinating character piece for those who have suffered from depression (or their loved ones) – those who know the loneliness that can engulf these individuals even when they’re surrounded by people who desperately want to help.

The Beaver may strain credulity, but its raw sentiment feels real and tragic. That said, it’s not a film I would comfortably recommend to anyone.

FilmWonk rating: 4 out of 10