Teeth (Mitchell Lichtenstein, 2007)

Watch out anonymous commenter, I'm about to get into "pretentious Women's Studies grad student" mode again Maybe if the term "feminist horror film" hadn't been thrown around so many times in regard to Teeth, I could have enjoyed it more. I did a paper for a senior seminar about feminist avengers in 70s European/Japanese exploitation films, so I was expecting Teeth to be a modern update of what is a classic exploitation framework. Teenage Dawn, star of her high school's abstinence movement, realizes one day that she has teeth in her vagina. She doesn't actually find this out until over halfway through the movie; the first half is a really expanded set-up. We see Dawn preach, get a preachy boyfriend, we meet her slacker stepbrother and sick mother, and we finally get to the point where Dawn and boyfriend Tobey's hormones get the better of them, and they decide to have sex. Dawn decides, halfway through the act, that she wants to go back on it, but Tobey, totally against everything we've seen about his character so far, ignores her, hits her head on a rock, and rapes her. This does not go well for Tobey, and is the point at which the movie turns for me. The first half of the movie is almost Cronenberg-esque body horror; the audience knows what's wrong with Dawn far before she does, and we are all waiting tensely for her to discover it. After her encounter with Tobey, the film mostly depends on weak humor and shot after gratuitous shot of cut off penises. What would have really shocked me would have been some sort of revelation of Dawn's affliction, but that, of course, didn't happen. And that's partly Lichtenstein's point, it seems. Near the beginning of the film, Dawn's biology class is allowed to study a diagram of an erect penis, but their textbooks have giant stickers over the vaginal diagrams. (In fact, the scene where Dawn soaks away the sticker and discovers the vagina for the first time is my favorite of the film.) We're not allowed to see, or even to talk about or acknowledge, the vagina in our culture, and here, Lichtenstein (half-heartedly) takes on one of our deepest fears, that of female sexual power and violence. But isn't it a little presumptous for Lichtenstein to write and direct a film about a girl's relationship with her vagina (would I, for instance, write a similar script about a penis)? And why does he have to fall back onto gross-out sight gags and weird humor? It's as if the second half of Teeth can't decide whether it wants to be a drama, a comedy, or a horror film, so it tries to do everything. Not to say I didn't like the movie -- it's a great premise, and even when it falls short, it's way more thoughtful than most movies released in any given year. Plus, Jess Weixler as Dawn is a great breakthrough performance, and I really expect and look forward to seeing more from her in the future. But all these little cracks in the movie add up by the end, and when Dawn finally realizes that she can use her vagina as an avenging weapon, it made me more uneasy about its implications than want to cheer out loud. 6.5/10

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The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford (Andrew Dominik, 2007)

If 2007 hadn't been the year of There Will Be Blood, The Assassination of Jesse James would have been both the best and the most beautiful film of last year. Criminally underrated, both by audiences and award ceremonies, Andrew Dominik's film is often described with words like "ponderous" and "epic." I stayed away from the film for just that reason; I have a short attention span at times, especially for movies that are slooooow and almost three hours long. But once I finally put this film into my DVD player, I couldn't stop it. It's epically gorgeous, including some of the best cinematography I've seen in American film in a long while. There's a scene near the beginning of the film, where the James gang is robbing their last train, and as the train approaches the roadblock in the middle of the night, the intensely bright light from the train cuts through the bare trees, and it was so beautiful I don't think I will ever forget it. The entire train robbery scene is beautiful, even when the gang boards the train and Jesse especially is brutally rough with the passengers. The film moves from the claustrophobia of the train to the intensely wide-open spaces all over the America of Jesse James. Another scene has Jesse and a member of the gang standing on the threshold of a giant ice field, symbolizing the desolate nature of this huge country. Not only is the film incredibly gorgeous, the performances are all career-best. Brad Pitt is really remarkable as James; it's a testament to his performance that after a few minutes, you forget about Brad Pitt, movie star, and think of him as James. His James is all over the place: paranoid, insomniac, jumpy, tired of a life that has never allowed him to have a real home. Enter Robert Ford, Casey Affleck in a rightfully Oscar-nominated role (in fact, I might like this performance better than Javier Bardem's winning one. Might.). Ford is a real loser, someone who has been made fun of his entire life, idolizes James, and has dreams and plans for himself he will never live up to, even after his famous murder. Since the conclusion of the film is foregone, we're never in suspense as to what will happen, just when, and what will provoke it. Somehow, Robert Ford and his brother Charley end up in the James Gang, getting closer and closer to Jesse. But things happen along the way, and Jesse knows to keep his friends close and his enemies closer. The interplay between James and Ford, neither sure what the other knows or knows they know, is fascinating to watch. There's so much I could talk about in regards to this film; just about every scene has something I could probably write 500 words about. It's gorgeous, engaging, and superbly acted, and it's a shame that this movie didn't get the attention or acclaim that There Will Be Blood did. In fact, these two would make a good (if 6 hour) double-header, as some of the themes are shared, and the view of America is similar. Both movies have a superb score, as well -- Nick Cave did Jesse James', and even makes a great little cameo appearance. Everything about this film is really well crafted, and often breathtaking. A quiet little movie that will get in your mind and stay there. 9/10

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Snow Angels (David Gordon Green, 2007)

Most reviews I've read of David Gordon Green's delayed (it premiered at Sundance 2007!) Snow Angels remark upon how Green seems uncomfortable, out of his element in the movie. I'm starting to suspect that reviewers just read previous reviews and then parrot them, because I didn't see that at all. One review, I can't remember where, said that the movie is like watching these people from the inside of a car, to the detriment of the film. I agree and disagree; Green is detached from the film because the characters are detached from their lives. No one in the movie, save perhaps the teenaged couple of Michael Angarano and Olivia Thirlby (who can stop playing the quirky teen friend any day now), have a hold on their lives. Everyone in the movie seems to just be moving with the tides, and where their emotions and circumstances take them. In that respect, Green got it completely right. Angarano plays Arthur, a teen who works at a Chinese restaurant with Annie (Kate Beckinsale), who used to babysit him. Annie is separated from the mentally unstable Glenn (Sam Rockwell), with whom she has a 4 year old daughter, Tara. If that drama wasn't enough, Arthur's parents are in the middle of a separation themselves, and Lily (Thirlby) is a new girl with a huge crush on him. But none of this is frivolous (some have called the movie humorless, which I again couldn't disagree with enough -- I found myself laughing at some moments, usually as the only one in the theater). In this movie, everything means something. In the half-ridiculous, half-revelatory opening scene, the high school band, including Arthur on trombone, is marching and playing a distorted version of "Sledgehammer." In a monologue that mirrors exactly every school band director I've known (band geek here), the band director tells his band fervently that every move is based on the person next to and in front of you, and every move is precisely what it needs to be. This is the most important speech in the film; it lets you know where Green is coming from in this portrait of small-town malaise. Sam Rockwell continues his reign as my favorite working actor. His task in the movie is a really tough one; Glenn could end up just being a pathetic psycho, which he certainly is in some scenes, but Rockwell endues Glenn with something else, something that makes the audience feel sorry for him, and sincerely empathize with him. Kate Beckinsale is very good as well, and again, reviews have called her a hothouse plant just put down in the middle of this environment, that she doesn't belong there, but I think that's a lot of Annie's tragedy. I think I missed the point where Beckinsale became a "real" actress, but I like it a lot. Amy Sedaris also delivers a surprisingly solid performance (for someone known for comedy) as Annie's friend and coworker. If Snow Angels is playing near you, don't let the mediocre reviews stop you from seeing it. It's a beautiful, agonizing portrait of regular people and regular tragedies. 8.5/10

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Death Sentence (James Wan, 2007)

James Wan is really underrated, I think. While watching Death Sentence, I thought back on his previous directorial efforts, Saw and Dead Silence, and realized that basically everything he's done, I've been a fan of. I'm not saying he's the next Scorcese or anything, but he's a great genre director. In that vein, Death Sentence is a great piece of exploitation action; what Grindhouse would have been if the directors didn't take themselves so seriously (though I still prefer Grindhouse, this is just the Death Wish to their sexploitation-horror films). Kevin Bacon plays the father of a promising youth athlete who is murdered in a gas station gang initiation ceremony. The gang member is caught, but Bacon is shocked that he would get 5-7 years in jail at the most, so he purposefully ruins the case and decides to take revenge. The change from white-collar businessman to no-nonsense vigilante is a really genuine seeming one; it really could happen to someone you know. In particular, one chase scene, which goes from the streets to a parking garage, is done for several minutes in one continuous shot which is really impressive. It brings you into the action and is just an impressive directorial feat (there's even a bonus feature on the DVD about the making of that particular scene). So while it may seem like a far-fetched premise, Bacon, the writing, and Wan's direction really bring it to life. Not to mention, John Goodman has an incredibly badass role as an arms dealer and gang leader. James Wan really pulled this modern day Charles Bronson movie off, and not least because he understands that a double-barrelled shotgun is the most badass weapon there is. 7.5/10

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My Blueberry Nights (Wong Kar-Wai, 2007)

Like Michael Haneke, my relationship with Wong Kar-Wai is one where I really go against the grain. Most people I know who love film love his films, citing how beautiful and romantic they are. Instead of romantic, I find them melodramatic, and, at their worst, trite and boring. I've never seen a Wong film that I really, truly love, and My Blueberry Nights, his first English-language effort, didn't change that. The film starts with about a half hour of the main character, Elizabeth (Norah Jones, in her first acting role which I'll get to soon) complaining to cafe owner Jeremy (Jude Law, who looks sort of dead behind the eyes) about the unseen man that's left her for another woman. She stays at his cafe past closing to talk with him and eat blueberry pie, since Jeremy explains that it's always almost all left at the end of the night, but he keeps making them anyway because someday, someone will want some. These overwrought metaphors (get it? Elizabeth's the blueberry pie!) might sound romantic and lovely in Chinese through subtitles, but when we actually hear this dialogue in English coming from these actors, it just doesn't work. Another Wong trademark, slow motion, is used to complete excess here and seems to be just padding when there's nothing else to show; it's distracting rather than masterful. Every review I've read of the film pretty much hinges on the performance of Norah Jones -- people either commend her bravery for taking her first acting role as the lead in a prominent director's first English feature, or dismiss her outright with little acting and emoting talent. I'm in the second camp. Half the time, Jones seems checked out of the role, as if reading from a cue card or having her lines read to her. Especially when put up against such grade-A talents as David Strathairn and Rachel Weisz, Jones is almost wince-worthy at times. The entire movie is based on the premise that Elizabeth (who goes by Beth and Liz at times in her journey) is someone to whom you can really connect; why else would Straithairn's alcoholic police officer or Natalie Portman's obsessive gambler open up to her like they do? I saw nothing in Jones' portrayal of Elizabeth that made this at all plausible. Her innocence and wide-eyed naivete could have been endearing, but instead were ridiculous and unrealistic. Elizabeth is someone who believes used car salesmen. Seriously. But for all these faults, the film is saved from total disaster from the middle section, with Straithairn as the cop and Weisz as his soon-to-be ex-wife. This story is told masterfully, and is telling that the movie is at its best when not about Elizabeth. The small tragedies are often the most painful ones, and these people, while they pretend they're not damaged, are vulnerable and broken. Both Straithairn and Weisz give fantastic performances, and might even be Oscar-worthy come next awards season. All in all, it's not surprising that My Blueberry Nights got such polarized reactions when it premiered at Cannes, nor that it's taken so long to get it out since. The script is wooden and the performances are, for the most part, vacant. I think the biggest problem here is that My Blueberry Nights tries so hard to convince you of its heart, when there's none to be seen. 6/10

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Terror's Advocate (Barbet Schroeder, 2007)

You probably haven't heard of Jacques Verges, but you almost definitely have heard of some of the people he's defended in court: Djamila Bouhired, Algerian nationalist bomber; Klaus Barbie, Nazi "Butcher of Lyon"; Magdalena Kopp, Baader-Meinhoff gang member; and Slobodan Molosevic, former president of Serbia and Yugoslavia. Verges earned the titular nickname defending all these people, though not because of some idealistic notion that everyone needs defending. In fact, director/narrator Barbet Schroeder (whom I really admire) doesn't force the question, and instead, Verges gives a few vague answers, mostly tied to French atrocities in the Algerian war. Schroeder's ridiculously passive approach to this film is really its downfall, although it does also lead to some intriguing moments. Verges gets involved as a French law student in communist action, then is recruited to defend Bouhired, among others, from killing French citizens in a series of bombings. He becomes very sympathetic to the cause, and outrageous in the courtroom. The first half or so of the film is dedicated to the Algerian cause, and we see first-hand the events from Battle of Algiers. Verges also has a hero complex, it seems, as he marries (and eventually deserts) Bouhired, and does the same later in his life with Kopp. Patronizing heroism aside, Verges is deeply passionate about his beliefs, and in present-day interviews, still comes off as so. But once we get past about 1970 chronologically, Verges all but refuses to talk about anything in his life. He disappeared from 1970-1978, but won't say where he was or what he was doing, even after 30 years. Some suggest he was with Pol Pot and the Khmer Rouge in Cambodia, and Verges admits being friends with Pol Pot, but, again, Schroeder never calls him on this. It would have been fascinating to see this confident, articulate man defend what we now know was a brutal regime. Neither will he really say why he defended Barbie (except to remind the court, in the 80s, about French atrocities in Algeria), and when we find out he defended certain people who were directly against his beliefs (an African warlord, notorious terrorist Carlos the Jackal), still no explanation. Verges just sits behind a huge desk, smug after all these years. He actually infuriate me for the most part. Schroeder really lets Verges off the hook in this film, refusing to ever make him face his mistakes. Perhaps Verges just refused to have these things discussed, but it really takes away from what could have been an amazingly revealing documentary. One more minor problem I had: although the political situations around the people Verges defended were complicated and intricately interwoven (one of the most interesting things about the film is how every "terrorist" network in the world is interconnected, especially the Nazi-Palestinian connection, which I never considered and makes me uncomfortable in my beliefs), there was far too much backstory in this film for it to have any flow whatsoever. This is a great disappointment from the great Schroeder, even more so considering what this film could have been. 6/10

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Paranoid Park (Gus van Sant, 2007)

Les Cahiers du cinema, France's premiere film journal, named Gus van Sant's Paranoid Park their favorite film of 2007. It also won the 60th Anniversary Prize and was nominated for the Palme d'Or at Cannes last year. Those amount to a pretty darn good pedigree for this film, but I have a love-hate relationship with van Sant. At his best (Elephant, To Die For), he documents the dark side of the outsider; at his worst (Last Days, parts of Drugstore Cowboy and My Own Private Idaho), he's boring and pretentious. So where would Paranoid Park fit into this rubric? Thankfully, it's his best film ever. Like with Elephant, van Sant used almost all amateur actors to portray the inhabitants of this teenage world. Alex, played near-perfectly by Gabe Nevins, is a Portland high school skateboarder who is invited by his friend to Paranoid Park, a skateboard park where the punk kids, the homeless kids, the kids who are unwanted go (Alex has a wonderful interior monologue about however bad your family situation is, these kids have it worse). When he goes on his own one Saturday night, he decides to go freight train-riding with a guy he just met. When a security guard tries to stop them, Alex accidentally kills him, and then spends the rest of the movie trying to cope with his actions, accidental though they were. van Sant tells the story through the framework of Alex's writings about the event. He's not particularly brilliant, or eloquent, or even that good at showing his emotions. Alex is a normal teenage boy, and Nevins' lack of emoting is perfect for the role. When Alex does break down, then, it's even more devastating. The plot is thin, but not to the detriment of the movie. There are long, slow-motion, lyrical shots of skateboarding and kids walking down their school's hallways, among other things. Some have (perhaps rightfully so at times) called these boring; I think they were hypnotic and illuminating. van Sant has taken the exploration of one's interior life that he stalled with in Last Days, and perfected it here. All the teenagers are natural, even when they seem unnatural. The progression of guilt from Alex's insides to his relationships with his family and friends is devastating, and emotionally resonating. van Sant has made his best film 20 years into his career; I hope he keeps it up. But knowing him, he'll make a completely different film next time. I expect no less. 8.5/10

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Hot three-way (review) action

The opening scene of Belle de Jour is one of the most clever scenes I can remember seeing. At first, it's a normal scene of marital discontent; then, it's a horrifying scene of domestic abuse, as the woman's husband has the coach drivers carry her into the woods, tie her up, and then (presumably) rape her; it gets a lot more interesting when the woman seems to be into it; and finally, it's revealed that this is all a dream (or a fantasy) by the wife. Director Luis Bunuel seems to have tapped into the forbidden nature of transgressive female sexuality in the 60s -- a wife wasn't expected to like sex, much less have hot dreams about being tied up and raped by strangers. But the rest of the film sorely fails to live up to the promise in the first scene. The young wife, Severine (played by a radiant Catherine Deneuve -- she's always beautiful, but her skin seems exceptionally smooth and bright in this film), won't have sex with her husband, but after she hears about a brothel in the middle of Paris, she goes there and gets hired as Belle de Jour in order to live out her fantasies. It's never quite explained why she won't have sex with her husband, but nevertheless, the movie turns into an episode of Law and Order: SVU after Severine falls for a young thug who comes to see her at the brothel all the time. It's almost as if she's punished for expressing her sexuality the way she does, a move I would expect from a morality piece, but not from Bunuel. The final scene moves away from that moralistic judgement of Severine, but not enough to turn my opinion competely. 7/10 There's no way I could try to defend The Gore Gore Girls as a good movie. Instead, it's relatively entertaining and the epitome of all things H.G. Lewis. The story of a strip club (sort of, the girls are almost never topless and certainly never bottomless) that's being tormented by the brutal murders of their dancers, reporter (maybe? maybe he's just a gent who likes solving mysteries?) Abraham Gentry is recruited for $20,000 by young, hot Nancy Weston from a local newspaper to solve the mystery. I could have sworn that Gentry was supposed to be gay, because he seems really averse to women and is quite the dandy in mannerisms, but the final scene begs not. Anyway, you don't watch a H.G. Lewis film for plot or believeable characters or any of that. The gore is here in full-effect, the goriest Lewis film ever (one of the first rated-X horror films, apparently), and even though it doesn't look real, there's still face-ironing, bare asses being tenderized, an eye gouged, put back in the head, and then taken out again, and much more. It's funny and gross at the same time. So if you can bear some of the worst acting ever (I prefer the ridiculous over-acters to the ones that don't seem like they know they're in a movie) and definitely the worst stripping ever (weirdo dancing to circus music for five minutes that isn't remotely sexy), The Gore Gore Girls is for you. 5/10 By the same token, there's no way I can defend I Know Who Killed Me as a good movie. Maybe there's something about horror movies about strippers that just doesn't work? But for the same reasons I didn't mind watching The Eye remake, I had a good, mindless time watching this one -- and I even watched it all at once (which I don't often do, to be honest). Reason one: I like Lindsay Lohan. I don't know why. I always have, and I was sincerely disappointed when she had that bad summer last year. But she seems to be (more) on track these days, even if she did just win the Razzie for worst actress. I didn't think she was terrible here, a bit out of it in some scenes, but mostly pretty competent. Plus, the girl is pretty hot. Reason two: when it comes to horror/thrillers, I am pretty easily entertained. This movie has some of the biggest plot holes I've ever encountered, and is truly one of those films that's best if you don't think about it at all after you watch it, but there's still some thrills and some really gross gore. So if you're like me, and you can zone out to just about any horror film, get yourself a double bill of The Gore Gore Girls and I Know Who Killed Me. It'll be a fun night (especially with a few beers). 5/10

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Joshua (George Ratliff, 2007)

I have had the pleasure in the past few days to watch two movies that really creeped me out, something that doesn't happen too often anymore (after watching too many horror movies, I suppose). George Ratliff's followup to his 2001 documentary Hell House, Joshua, was the first of those. The titular ten-year-old boy, played to a t by Jacob Kogan, is the most straightlaced kid you've ever seen. His hair is always perfectly parted, his shirts tucked into his pants, his room immaculate, his piano routines practiced constantly. But he's the son of two more, uh, liberal parents, played by Sam Rockwell and Vera Farmiga. Even though he's in the stock market (I believe), he seems like a laid-back, cool guy. It's incomprehensible how these two people made this child, and so the movie opens with the birth of the couple's second child, an adorable, happy baby named Lily. Predictably, Joshua gets pretty jealous of Lily, and that's when the trouble begins. Without giving too much away (because all I really knew about when I watched the movie was that it was about an evil child), this movie deals with post-partum depression, evangelical Christianity, and the power of creativity over one's life. Sam Rockwell is, as he always is, really likeable and sympathetic, even when his character is doing some questionable things, to say the least. Vera Farmiga is in full-on hysterical mom mode, but not in a campy way. And Kogan is just terrifying, in the best possible way. The script is actually well written, and there's a twist that I didn't see coming, but also isn't ridiculous. The movie ends with one of the creepiest freeze frames I've ever seen; I went back and watched the last scene with director's commentary on, and he said that he was skeptical about the editor's choice to end with a freeze frame at first, but he came to love it as a tribute to all the 70s psychological thrillers. That's what this film is at its best; a throwback to the 70s thrillers, like The Omen or Rosemary's Baby, but never a ripoff. 7.5/10

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3 quick ones

You know, this wasn't actually that bad. Especially if you fit one or both of these qualifications: you can see bad horror movies in the theater and generally be entertained (especially if you are with a friend who gets scared easily), and you like Jessica Alba. Thankfully, I am in both categories. There are actually some pretty good jumps, and creepy imagery. Obviously, there could have been more, but for a PG-13 horror movie, you really couldn't do too much better than this. Well, you probably could. But still. 5.5/10 The Experiment, based on the Stanford Prison Experiment (even though a confusing screen at the beginning says it's not based on anything whatsoever), starts out really tense and enjoyable. Twenty men volunteer to take part in a psychological study where 8 are made prison guards and 12 are prisoners for 14 days. Things start lightly enough, with the prisoners making fun of the guards, but when everyone starts taking their roles seriously, things go really wrong. The first half of the film is intense, especially when you consider that this is a German film, and the Germans have an interesting (to say the least) history with follow-the-leader mentality. But the second half just goes over the top and loses its grip on reality. Sure, it would be less spectacular if things didn't become so explosive, but it also could have been more of a creepy, subtle character study. 6.5/10 Considered to be Fellini's masterpiece, I was a little...underwhelmed. It's not that it's not a great movie, because it is. Rather, I found myself less emotionally invested in these shallow people than in, say, Nights of Cabiria. Marcello Mastroianni is predictably fantastic as Marcello Rubini, a jaded gossip journalist who wanders around 1960 Rome, cheating on his suicidal girlfriend with a friend and then a Swedish actress (even though they don't really speak the same language). You can't take your eyes off of Anita Ekberg as the actress, but you don't feel for her, either. I did, however, find the last half hour incredibly depressing and touching; Marcello has lost touch with any sense of humanity he might have had -- is it the soul-crushing nature of his job, his alcoholism, his inability to be faithful to one woman, or something else? Certainly a film that has to be seen, but let me down a tiny bit. 8/10

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The Diving Bell & the Butterfly (Julian Schnabel, 2007)

I decided to take advantage of being on vacation in the Big Apple to see The Diving Bell & the Butterfly, which hadn't opened in my town as of yet. Despite the sticker shock of a mid-afternoon movie costing $12, Julian Schnabel's masterpiece was completely worth it. The story of Jean-Dominique Bauby, an Elle magazine editor who, at age 42, had a stroke that left him completely paralyzed, except for his eyes. One of them, however, has to be sewn shut almost right away, for fear that it wil get infected. The movie begins from Jean-Do's perspective, from which much of the movie is shown. Jean-Do can speak, but only in his mind. We can hear his internal dialogue, and he is a real, fully-formed character in every way. Mathieu Amalric plays Jean-Do with remarkable empathy. We understand the pain and frustration Jean-Do is going through -- when he, with the help of his speech therapist, finally get down the complex way of allowing Jean-Do to communicate with the outside world, the first thing he says is that he wants to die. It's a heartbreaking moment, for audience and therapist alike. But soon, Jean-Do decides to stop pitying himself, realizing that his imagination and memory are still intact; he takes his editor up on the offer he had pre-stroke to have a book published. The rest has to be seen. Jean-Do learns to survive as best he can with the help of four really remarkable women -- his speech and physical therapists, his ex-wife, and the "translator" from his publisher. Instead of being completely isolated through his condition, these women help him to remember the outside world, and live a little bit outside of himself. He does have other friends who come to visit him, but his former life (girlfriend included) seems to have forgotten him completely. Even though all these hurdles come up for Jean-Do, this is never a melodramatic, Lifetime channel-style weep fest. In fact, my tears only came in the last half hour of the movie. All the performances are truly stellar, and Schnabel's incredible direction brings the film into the realm of art -- the fuzzy shots from Jean-Do's early perpective and the sense of claustrophobia in Jean-Do's diving bell are among the most beautiful directorial moments I've ever seen. I'm still picking the Coens to win the best director Oscar, but Schnabel really, truly deserves it. One of the definite best films of 2007. 9/10

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There Will Be Blood (Paul Thomas Anderson, 2007)

I saw There Will Be Blood this past Sunday, but I've been hesitant to blog about it. Not that it was bad - completely the opposite. It's too good that I really can't say too much about it. The film deals with almost every single universal theme: greed, family, power, you name it. The only thing the film doesn't deal with in depth is romantic love, but unlike other male-centric films, this one doesn't suffer from the lack of female presence. Daniel Day-Lewis is Daniel Plainfield, turn of the century oil prospector who has a habit of coming into towns, sucking them dry, and not paying what he promised. The first fifteen minutes of the film, which some have compared to the beginning of 2001, are wordless and transcendant. Daniel, on his own, tries to mine oil, even falling down a shaft once, breaking his leg, and dragging himself back to civilization on his back. This is truly a man discovering a new world all for himself. Skip forward 10 years, and Plainview is now a rich man with a real operation, trying to branch out to more communities. He meets Paul Sunday, who tells him about the oil on his family's land for $500. Plainview visits the Sunday ranch under the auspices of quail hunting, and meets the family, including burgeoning pastor Eli, twin of Paul (both played by Paul Dano). From there, the Sundays and the Plainviews are intertwined through tragedy and triumph, until the explosive ending. It would be a crime to spoil any of it for you, so I won't. All I can really say is that Day-Lewis gives one of the best performances I have ever seen. In the latest issue of Rolling Stone, Peter Travers likens this performance to Orson Welles' in Citizen Kane, and while at first, I thought that was a little ridiculous, now I agree. Day-Lewis, like Welles before him, completely loses himself in the role, until you forget it's a movie at all. Here's one Academy Award that will certainly have been earned. But in all the deserved praise for Day-Lewis, almost no one has mentioned the also great performance of Paul Dano. He shows a great deal of growth from even Little Miss Sunshine, and I think, with a few more meaty roles like this, he could grow into one of the better actors of his generation. Of course, I can't not mention PT Anderson's writing and direction. The movie is epically beautiful, and on account of the breathtaking, epic landscapes, I can't recommend seeing this on the big screen enough. This is Anderson's masterpiece -- I really can't praise it enough. After seeing the film, my friend and I were unable to make meaningful conversation for about half an hour - it's that powerful. It's definitely the best film of 2007, and probably the best film of the decades. See it! 9.5/10

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Favorites of 2007

It's here! But I was looking at the spreadsheet I made of movies I watched in 07 (I know, nerdy), and there really isn't a solid top-10 list there. Sure, there are plenty of movies I enjoyed watching, but surprisingly enough, not 10 I could say were bar none the best. So I give you, my favorite movies released in 2007 (click on the poster for my previous review): Smokin Aces (Joe Carnahan) It seems like this movie was so long ago, but it was indeed January of 2007. There's so much vitriol for this movie, but I think it's a wham-bam, funny, violent action picture. Jeremy Piven is great, as is Ryan Reynolds (this is the role that made me realize I don't hate him). 300 (Zack Snyder) Again, lots of recent backlash toward this one. I honestly think that Snyder only meant to make a cinematic, epic film that was as close to Frank Miller's graphic novel (as xenophobic, homoerotic, etc, as it might have been) as it could have been. In that, he definitely succeeded. I have no idea how I am going to hold out for another year and a half for Watchmen. Planet Terror (Robert Rodriguez) I decided to limit myself to the better of the two films of Grindhouse, but that was the best experience I've had in the theater last year. Until the two films are released together on DVD (with the trailers intact), Planet Terror is the one I would recommend. Plus, bonus points for these films being the inspiration for Eli Roth's next project, Trailer Trash. Hostel: Part II (Eli Roth) Speaking of Mr. Roth, this was the most memorable film experience I had in 2007. Eli Roth is such a cool, friendly, smart guy, and the box office failure of this movie (paired with that of Grindhouse) really disheartened me. Aqua Teen Hunger Force Colon Movie Film For Theaters (Matt Malliero & Dave Willis) I can't believe I didn't review this at the time, but for my money, this was the most laughs per minute in any movie this year. Sure, WTF-worthy laughs, but laughs nonetheless. A great DVD, as well, one certainly worth buying. The Ten (David Wain) Second-funniest movie of the year. I can't remember many of the jokes, it's a DVD that's definitely on my list to buy. It was so nice to see most of the members of The State back on screen again (twice, if you count Reno 911!: Miami). I'm Not There (Todd Haynes) The first "serious" movie on ths list! A great experimental indie film, and definitely American at its core. Plus, I like this (Italian?) poster way better than any of the American ones I've seen. Black Book (Paul Verhoeven) I still can't believe that this film, and Carice van Houten's performance in specific, are being so passed over in this awards season. They was robbed!

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Crazy Love (Dan Klores, 2007)

I have seen few documentaries about stranger, more compelling people. To tell the entire story would be to ruin at least part of the joy of watching this movie (the utter disbelief in some of the actions), but I'll just introduce these people to you in the hopes you'll want more. Burt Pugasch is a big deal in 1950s New York - he's a lawyer, film producer, and a night club owner. He sees Linda Riss one day, and decides she's going to be his. He woos her, and eventually, they do date, although as some of Linda's friends say, she seems to be more impressed with him than she is in love with him. He flaunts his wealth by taking Linda to New York hot spots (with Johnny Mathis, among others), and even getting she and her friend on a private plane ride with him, something unheard of at the time. But after a while, Burt's riches just aren't enough for Linda, and then she breaks up with him. Burt is absolutely heartbroken, to the (literal) point of insanity. And then the strangeness begins. I hadn't heard at all of the story of Burt and Linda before watching the film, and I'm glad I hadn't. There were several points in the film in which I audibly gasped out loud. This film isn't particularly disturbing, although there are some shocking points, but instead a commentary on the often strange nature of love. Dan Klores does a pretty good job in pulling some punches; he keeps the right things secret until they have to be divulged, and the second half of the film is riviting. The first half, however, is a little dull, and brings down the movie as a whole. But for a look at two truly interesting people, I recommend watching Crazy Love 7/10

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Black Book (Paul Verhoeven, 2007)

When I finally get my act together and make my best of 2007 list (this weekend!), Paul Verhoeven's Black Book will certainly be on there. It's marvellously photographed and epic in scope, but the best part, above all, is the performance of Carice van Houten in the role of Ellis (formerly Rachel), the Dutch Resistance fighter during World War II whose task it is to seduce a member of the gestapo, in order to learn the Nazi's secrets. van Houten as Ellis is smart, wily, brave, and incredibly sexy, in an almost every day kind of way. She's a woman you want to be; when she flashes her legs at the Dutch soldiers near the beginning of the film, it's one of the most endearing gestures in recent film mystery. Rachel is hiding in the Dutch countryside from the Nazi occupation, but when she gets a chance to escape with her family, they all take it. There are terrible consequences, and brunette, Jewish Rachel has to become blonde Ellis to hide herself in plain sight. She falls in with the Dutch resistance, and agrees to seduce Ludwig Muntze, Nazi officer. She does so, with ease, and soon gets closer and closer to Muntze, as well as to Hans, another member of the Resistance. van Houten fills Ellis with life, with relatable, though paradoxical, emotions and decisions, and makes her one of the most memorable characters in 2007 film. One thing I did notice, however, was the nagging similarities to Lust, Caution. Both films star beautiful, talented women, have these protagonists fall in love with questionable men on the other side of morality, and have graphic but not exploitative sex scenes. Ang Lee's film is based on sexual tension, but Verhoeven's tension explodes rather quickly (no pun intended) and then the rest of the film explores the results of the sexual and emotional connections. How strange that two high-profile sexy espionage epics came out in 2007, but they're both great movies. Verhoeven did a remarkable thing in this movie: made a sexual, fierce, amazing female protagonist who certainly has flaws but is still remarkable and believable, and van Houten does a near-perfect job playing her. In a year that's been riddled with dubious portrayals of women, van Houten's is a performance that is being sadly ignored in this awards season. 8.5/10

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Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story (Jake Kasdan, 2007)

On the other side of the surprised-by-Americans spectrum from Sweeney Todd is Walk Hard, the hands-down funniest comedy of the year that couldn't make more than four million dollars on its opening weekend. Sure, it was a holiday weekend, but National Treasure 2 made 100 bazillion dollars or something. Seriously? SERIOUSLY? But enough overestimating the moviegoing public. Walk Hard is a spoof of the recent rags-to-riches musical biopics that are sure Oscar favorites. In fact, Reilly himself has been nominated for a Golden Globe for his performance as Dewey Cox, who chops his brother in half during a machete fight and spends the rest of his life trying to be "super-great" for both he and his brother. Along the way, he gets married at 14, makes a slew of hits, takes acid with The Beatles, wants to record an army of digeridoos, has a 70s variety show, hits rock bottom, and finds redemption (sort of). Everything you'd expect. Reilly is absolutely perfect in the role; hilarious and spot-on as Cox -- he's even a great musician. Kristin Wiig (who has grown on me in her last few years on Saturday Night Live) is hilarious as Cox's first wife; she delivers probably my favorite line in the movie ("It would if it never rained!" I almost choked laughing). Of course, Dewey leaves his wife when he gets famous, and eventually hooks up with his June Carter (Jenna Fischer, looking cute even though there's not much else to do). They have the most ridiculously tumultuous relationship in film history. Also pitch-perfect are Dewey's backup band, Tim Meadows, Chris Parnell, and Matt Besser, who all get a few big laughs. Lots of the Judd Apatow regulars (he produced it, after all) show up, like Paul Rudd, Jonah Hill, Jane Lynch, and more. The fact that this was such a box office bomb while Knocked Up and Superbad were such hits disappoints, but doesn't surprise, me. America just isn't ready to see John C. Reilly in a leading role, I suppose. For me, though, he is just wonderful -- I'd put him in my top 5 favorite actors, I think. I hope we see more big roles for him in the future, and America grows to love him like I do. But for now, all I can say is go see Walk Hard if you love to laugh. And who doesn't. 9/10

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Sweeney Todd (Tim Burton, 2007)

Sweeney Todd is the antithesis of the traditional holiday movie; dark, bloody, and almost completely sung. But here it was, the weekend before Christmas, and Tim Burton's adaptation of the Broadway play came in fifth at the box office. For once, this was a happy surprise. While not Burton's best film, it is probably his most realized vision yet. Burton teams yet again with Johnny Depp in the title role of the man wronged by a lecherous judge (Alan Rickman, who is, as always, great), put in prison, and had his wife and child taken from him. 15 years later, he's bak in the guise of Sweeny Todd, and he's looking for revenge. But it's not just the judge Todd is looking for revenge on; it's the entire world, as shown in the very first song, in which Todd describes London in the most pessimistic terms possible. But since this is basically Dickens' London, it is a filthy, poverty-stricken place. Burton's London is a place where the sun never shines, there are rats and roaches everywhere (even in the meat pies), and people are poor and getting poorer. The only time we see the sun in the film is during Mrs. Lovett's (Helena Bonham Carter, of course) fantasy sequence of her and Todd's imaginary life. This is one of the most pessimistic films in recent memory. That being said, all the performances are fantastic. Some have said that Depp is a lock for a best actor Oscar, and while he wouldn't be my first choice, I certainly wouldn't be disappointed by it. Carter is a mix of Burton's corpse bride and a strung-out Marla Singer, a truly creepy and opportunistic businesswoman who finds a way to make murder profitable (quite the commentary on the beginning of the industrial revolution. The supporting cast is solidly good, especially Sacha Baron Cohen as Todd's rival barber, the only comic relief in this bleak film. Much has been said about the gore in the film, but the blood doesn't look realistic at all. It's theatrical gore, and while it's shocking in context, it certainly isn't disgusting. Sweeney Todd may not be the feel-good movie of the season, but it sure is a good one. 8/10

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I'm Not There (Todd Haynes, 2007)

In order to avoid the first family holiday blowup this weekend, I ran away to the circus to the movies and finally saw Todd Haynes' I'm Not There, the pseudo-Bob Dylan biopic that utilizes six actors of different races and genders to portray the man in the different phases in his life: Marcus Carl Franklin is Woodie Guthrie (Dylan as a young, boxcar-riding man, based on what he told people about his mysterious background), Ben Whishaw is Arthur Rimbaud (the early artist, when he was fond of answering interview questions with Rimbaud quotes), Christian Bale is Jack Rollins then Pastor John (Dylan the young star, and 20 years later, the born-again Christian), Heath Ledger is Robbie Clark (Dylan the asshole, more or less), Cate Blanchett is Jude Quinn (Dylan gone electric), and Richard Gere is Billy the Kid (Dylan in exile). The movie, then, has an obvious hook or gimmick. But this is so much more than its parts might suggest. All the actors are stupendous in the role, even though the demands are varying on each part. Whishaw and Bale have the least interesting, in my mind, roles, but even those are well-done. Whishaw, shown only in black and white, at a table being interviewed, has a film-long monologue about the nature of poetry and fame. But really, the movie belongs to Cate Blanchett. Her androgynous portrait of angry Dylan, just gone electric to England, is a bright self-destructive spark in the film. Quinn and his band take out guns rather than electric guitars; they might as well have, how angrily the audience reacted. Quinn is falling apart, physically and mentally, and even though he hangs out with an Edie Sedgwick-type (whose heart he has broken) and Allen Ginsburg (David Cross, whom I could almost take seriously), his life is in disarray. Ledger, Franklin (a true find by Haynes), and Gere are also remarkable in their roles. Ledger has the juiciest role, a real asshole, getting a divorce from his wife (Charlotte Gainsbourg) and spouting misogynistic views. There's really quite little I can say about this movie that really explains the experience of I'm Not There. I recently read a review that I can no longer find that said the problem with the film is that because it doesn't deal with Dylan as one person, it neglects to address the issue of how these constant transformations take a toll on the person. In the same review (and others), it says that only Dylan fans will be truly interested in the film. I'm no real fan of Bob Dylan, so I took this movie as both a loose biography of the man, but also just as a collection of remarkable stories and performances from one of the real visionary directors of our time. This is Todd Haynes' best work (visually, it is breathtaking), and one of the best films of the year. 8.5/10

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Fido (Andrew Currie, 2007)

I'm not using the traditional poster art for Andrew Currie's surprisingly wonderful film because, as has been said better than I could, Lionsgate really screwed the pooch with their marketing of this film. Seriously, you've got to figure that they know there's already a built-in (weirdo) audience for a zombie family film/social satire of American culture, and, with a little smart marketing, this could have been a small breakout surprise. But alas, that didn't happen. That rarely happens. Fido is the story of an alternate reality America, date unknown, that is premanently stuck in the ultra-perfect, stereotypical 50s America. Mom (Carrie Ann Moss, in an absolutely wonderful performance) wears beautiful dresses (of which I am eternally jealous -- I want her wardrobe in this film so badly) and bakes roasts; Dad (Dylan Baker, who is great in everything) is removed from his wife (physically -- two beds -- and mentally) and his son; and son Timmy (K'Sun Ray) gets bullied at school until his loyal pet stands up for him. But his pet Fido isn't a dog, it's a zombie. Since the zombie wars, cities have been fenced in and zombies are controllable via an omnipotent company ZomCon, who invented a collar to make zombies obedient. Billy Connolly is Fido, in an amazing performance, considering he doesn't have one single line. His entire performance is dog-like actions and expressions, and he does a great job at conveying the kind of love between a family pet and a human. Fido was a smoker! But more than a sendup of 50s America, this is a story about family, and about love. The last half hour, while the weakest part in the film in some ways, has some of the most touching, sincere displays of familial love I've seen in a while. Mr. Theopolis (Tim Blake Nelson), is in love with his zombie, Rammy, and treats her better than most of the human husbands and wives we meet. The quasi-romance between Mrs. Robinson and Fido is a very clever pastiche of All That Heaven Allows, and the zombies echo the plight of immigrants and the unseen in American culture, even today. But above all, this is a family story, about what keeps a family together, even through a zombie war, head coffins, and kids with pistols. Expect to see this in my best of list in a few weeks. 8/10

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On Juno

I am afraid to see Juno. I'll admit it. Why? Unless you've been living under a film-blog rock (and I assume you haven't, since you've stumbled here), you know that Juno is this year's...well, Little Miss Sunshine, I guess, but I don't remember even that movie getting this ridiculous amount of hype. Everyone is sweet-talking Ellen Page's performance as Juno, the (of course) precocious pregnant teen (by Michael Cera, whom I obviously adore) who is giving her baby up to Jennifer Garner and Jason Bateman. Directed by Jason Reitman (whose first film, Thank You For Smoking, I didn't care to see either) and with a screenplay by it-girl-of-the-moment Diablo Cody (we'll get to her in a moment), even the poster advertises the "whip-smart" dialogue: it seems as if the actors are performing Cody's dialogue on a tightrope! The dialogue crackles with wit! I usually hate movies like that, movies that are consciously trying to be witty. Wit, in my eyes, is something that isn't forced. It just happens. And when reviewers describe a movie as "whip-smart" and "crackling," to me, that usually signals forced wit and totally unnatural speech patterns. Juno just seems cute. And hip. The two things I hate most in a movie. I would often rather watch a stupid movie than one that's cute. Diablo Cody has this public persona of being not hip but actually really hip -- here's a girl who had a sex column and was a stripper and now writes cool movies and even Steven Spielberg wants to work with her! I'm not buying it. There's something in my character that dictates that I always root against the Goliath, even when, in this case, the Goliath is actually a Hollywood David. If I had not seen Little Miss Sunshine right away, before all the hype, I almost certainly wouldn't have liked it as much. So, like Pitchfork and Stereogum and their ilk are doing their unintentional part to kill indie bands by over-hyping them, so, I believe, film bloggers are doing with Juno. I could have gone to see it and enjoyed it perfectly fine, but not now, with everyone and their mother telling me it's by far the best film/screenplay/performance (I haven't even mentioned how I don't like Ellen Page -- well, I don't like her, the terrible movie that was Hard Candy and her performance there ruined her for me, at least for the moment) of the year. I'm predestined to not like it, to not give it a fair shot. And that stinks.

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