The Sixth Sense (1999)

Posted on February 16, 2016 by 4 Star Films

All I knew going into The Sixth Sense was that it featured Bruce Willis and there was a twist at the end. That was about it. Thus, it was an interesting opening to have our main character already be shot within the first few minutes. But it’s not much of a spoiler per se because we quickly flash-forward to a year later.

That first case came back to haunt him in the form of a very distraught patient, with a major grudge, however, Dr. Malcolm Crowe has seemingly gotten past it and continued with his life. It doesn’t mean that his marriage is not still difficult and his work still taxing, but he gets by. Finally, he gets a case that might help him resolve his previous failures, at least that’s how he sees it. Of course, the intelligent, but aloof boy Cole Seer (Haley Joel Osment) sees the world in a whole different way. He literally sees dead people, but let’s take a step back for a moment. He has trouble connecting with his loving but nevertheless troubled mother (Toni Colette) and Dr. Crowe seems like his only friend. None of the kids at school like him, because they think he’s a creep.

What Crowe does is help him work through everything that it is unique about Cole and also help him see that there may be some purpose behind these ghosts that he can see. They want him to do things for him so maybe this is Cole’s chance to help them. And so he begins the process and despite it being terrifying and disconcerting at times, he is able to lay to rest these specters. Finally giving them peace and in the wake of a traffic accident that results in a death, Cole finally opens up to his mother. She has trouble believing him at first, but she never discounts her son, which leads to a tearful scene between mother and son.

M. Night Shyamalan is obviously well-known for his great interest in supernatural stories with twist and turns, but to his credit, he firmly plants his films in a reality, like Philadelphia, that we can grasp onto. That’s our base and he can go from there with psychological thrills and even a touch of horror. However, his film actually has characters that are far from throwaway, even if we just look at Malcolm, Cole, and his mother. They are individuals that we can grow to care for over the course of the movie even with the supernatural plot devices and of course, the final surprise ending.

Honestly, I had an unfair advantage knowing that something was coming, so I caught onto some of the peculiarities leading to the final disclosure, but I was still relatively surprised when it came. Despite the rather contrived plot and purposefully cryptic opening, followed by a long wait, the final payoff of The Sixth Sense is certainly worth it.

4/5 Stars

Grand Illusion (1937)

Posted on February 11, 2016 by 4 Star Films

I’m not sure if it’s because I’ve been bred on a certain brand of war movie, but I naively went into Grand Illusion expecting a typical P.O.W. drama. In the back of my mind, I was even ready to compare this title to later works like Stalag 17 (1953) or The Great Escape (1963). Honestly, what was I thinking? With a Jean Renoir film no less.

But that’s the marvelous quality of this film. On the surface level, it looks like an archetype that we are used to. War is being waged. Soldiers are captured. Soldiers are trying to escape. In this case, the particulars are a group of French P.O.W.s in a German camp during WWI. You have the basic idea certainly, but you will not understand the power of this film with such a description. With such a set-up you expect Germans to be the craven villains and the French to be the courageous boys making their nation proud. But that’s not quite the case. It’s more complicated than that.

It’s no surprise that this film was banned by Mussolini, confiscated by Goebbels after the invasion of France, and shown in a private screening to FDR. Certainly, WWII had not started yet, but in 1937 Hitler was on the rise and a wave of fascism mixed with patriotism was flooding Europe. In the midst of such a climate, Jean Renoir, a master of so-called poetic realism, lays down a film like this. It has war, it has patriotism, and it even has enemy factions, but the difference is that Renoir gives them humanity. He casts even his “enemy” in a sympathetic light and suggests that there is a humanity that lies inside of human beings of all different classes, creeds, and nationalities (but he also acknowledges racial discrimination still exists).

Early on in the film von Rauffenstein (Erich von Stroheim) shoots down two enemy flyers in Captain de Boeldieu (Pierre Fresnay) and Marechal (Jean Gabin). However, instead of sending them away to the prisoner of war camp, he shows them the ultimate form of hospitality by inviting them to dine at his table. The cynic inside of me thought, “this must be a trap, a gimmick of some kind because he is a German after all, and they’re supposed to be the villains.” Pretty narrow-minded of me, and of course nothing happens. They share a meal and even find some common ground before going off to the camp.

This next part of the film reminds me the most of a film like Stalag 17 because there is the camaraderie, the mixing of all sorts of different people, but they are all fighting against a common enemy so there is a solidarity between them. For instance, Rosenthal (Marcel Dalio) shares his lavish care packages from back home, Cartier keeps things lively as a former vaudeville performer who is constantly cracking jokes, and even Boledieu, who is of an aristocratic background is generally well liked by everyone. Together they undertake the project of escaping the camp.

Of course, there’s still time for musical performances with song and drag and impromptu renditions of “La Marseillaise.” For such a disturbance Marechal (Gabin) gets solitary confinement, but there never seems to be any malice behind it. It feels more like the protocol of war, and he is let out soon enough. The way things work out the gang is transferred all to different camps and their tunnel is utterly wasted.

De Boldieu and Marechal’s final stop is literally a fortress that is run by their old acquaintance, the now badly maimed Von Rauffenstein. He is as civil as he has ever was but still advises them not to try escape. All the same, he regrets his reassignment and seems generally wistful about the whole situation. Meanwhile, the two officers once again come in contact with Rosenthal. The trio puts together a planned diversion led by De Boldieu which will let the other two escape. It puts von Rauffenstein in another regrettable position, but Rosenthal and Marechal do get away.

As fugitives, their dispositions fluctuate from positivity to loathing, and finally a contented state of comfort when they stay at the farmhouse of a young German woman named Elsa (Dita Parlo from L’Atalante). This is another section of the film that highlights human relationships in an extraordinary way. We expect her to be totally poisoned against “the enemy” and yet she is not. Elsa seems to see the human beings behind the French uniforms and comes to trust and almost rely on their companionship. As Rosenthal recovers from a leg injury, Marechal and Elsa get closer and closer. The time comes for the two men to leave and it is an absolutely heart-wrenching goodbye. It’s so different than our initial preconceptions.

And soon after the film ends, not with some dramatic capturing or even really a chase. But the two men get across the border to snowy Switzerland and that’s where we leave them. Except not with the usual jadedness or even the adrenaline rush of a run-of-the-mill war thriller. Grand Illusion is more piercing than that, speaking to the relationships that can cross war zones if we are only willing to see them.

Jean Gabin is a wonderfully honest-faced actor and the closest description I can give is a man with a Spencer Tracy-like visage except more imposing. Marcell Dalio did some wonderful work with Renoir, and it is unfortunate that he was relegated to such small roles in films like Casablanca, but he is nevertheless even memorable in that. Erich von Stroheim was a titan in his own right as a director and actor, but he was somewhat of a fading star by this point. However, he plays his character with a civility and sense of honor which I have never quite seen equaled before. It was a special performance that reflects a dying breed. The aristocratic soldier of the highest order in all circumstances.

Renoir himself summed up the film years later as being about human relationships and fittingly said the following: “I am confident that such a question is so important today that if we don’t solve it, we will just have to say ‘goodbye’ to our beautiful world.” Here is a master recognizing such a vital key to our very humanity — our personal interactions with one another.

5/5 Stars

Review: Chinatown (1974)

Posted on February 9, 2016 by 4 Star Films

“Forget it, Jake, it’s Chinatown”

The more you watch movies like Chinatown, the more you realize how much you’re still learning. I saw it the first time and I naively thought I knew everything about it. After all, it seemed fairly cut and dry. But the beauty of this film is a labyrinth-like story that can still keep me engaged after multiple viewings. There are things that I missed, things that I have to piece together once more, and more often than not details I simply forgot.

Robert Towne’s script has an intricacy to its constantly spiraling mystery plot that remains powerful and Roman Polanski — with cameo included — directs the film with a sure hand as well as a cynically bitter ending worthy of his work. At that point, he was returning to the same city where a few years prior his wife Sharon Tate had been brutally murdered and that certainly had to still be heavy on his mind.

Throughout, Chinatown has elegant visuals of a desert-dry Los Angeles circa 1930s, and it is aided by a smooth Jerry Goldsmith score made for such a period crime film as this. Jake Gittes (Jack Nicholson), is the smooth-talking, smart-aleck P.I. with a penchant for trouble, but that goes with the business. In the tradition of all his heirs like Spade and Marlowe, the whole story is told from his point of view and we get the details at the same pace as him. That means a lot of the time we are just as confused as him, trying to pick up all the pieces.

Aside from Nicholson, Faye Dunaway’s performance is an interesting reworking of the archetypal femme fatale, because she has a different side to her. Also, John Huston’s performance is wonderfully nefarious, because he plays Noah Cross with a top layer of geniality that is ultimately undermined by his base nature. It’s wonderfully wicked.

In the story’s first few moments of being in his office, we begin to learn a little about the means Gittes uses to appease his clients. Then, his newest client walks through the door, a Mrs. Mulwray, who wishes for him to tail her husband. And so he does, just like that, and he’s pretty good at it too. Hollis Mulwray (an anagram for Mullholland) happens to be an integral part of the L.A. Department of Water and Power as the chief engineer. From what Gittes sees, the bespectacled Mulwray seems to have his scruples, but he also has a secret girl, who the P.I. is able to snap some incriminating photos of. Back at the office, another woman shows up, a Mrs. Mulwray, but this time the real one. She wants to slam J.J. with a lawsuit, but he realizes he got framed, and in the end, she quickly drops her case. Pretty soon Gittes former colleague Lt. Escobar digs up Mulwray’s body and the cause of death is the height of irony. He drowned during a drought, a cruel demise, and his body is joined by that of a drunk, who also was wandering around the local reservoir. It’s time for our nosy P.I. to do a little more snooping, but he is scared off by two security guards from Water and Power who give him a deadly nose job.

None worse for wear aside from a small cast, J.J. knows the department is diverting water. It’s more than a little runoff like they contend. He gets lunch with Noah Cross (The great John Huston), who is the father of Mrs. Mulwray and the former business partner of the deceased. Like J.J., he’s curious about finding the mysterious girl, and he sweetens the pot for the P.I.

A bit of detective work takes Gittes to the hall of records and then a vast acreage of orange groves where he is mistaken for a member of the Department of Water and Power. They aren’t too happy to see him, but Mrs. Mulwray is able to bail him out. They check up on an assisted living home and tie it into the whole conspiracy. Someone is buying up land under the names of the unknowing residents.

But as it turns out, Mrs. Mulwray is hiding a major secret of her own that she’s been keeping. Another girl is murdered and since he’s found at the crime scene, Gittes is in a tight spot with the police and so he wants to get things straightened out. But he doesn’t quite understand what he’s gotten himself caught up in. At the last minute, he decides to take the hero’s path, but it’s to no avail. The good is snuffed out, the bad walk away free, and corruption still runs the streets of L.A. There’s not much the cops can do about it either.

So many people remember the film’s final words, which epitomize this place of confusion, corruption, and helplessness. The final words of Jake are just as illuminating, however, because he repeats the words he spoke to Mrs. Mulwray earlier when she asked what he did when he worked a beat in Chinatown, “As little as possible.” It’s so pessimistic and yet it’s the truth that everybody knows. He must resign himself to doing nothing because there is no way he can win, no way to overcome the forces that be. It’s a haunting conclusion, but ultimately the most powerful one we could hope for.

Earlier I alluded to the fact that every time I watch this film I pick on things that I missed before. For instance, within Robert Towne’s script are some interesting instances of foreshadowing. The first comes in the form of a pun uttered by the Chinese gardener who is constantly muttering, “It’s bad for the glass/grass.”

Then, while they are in the car Mrs. Mulwray dejectedly drops her head on the steering wheel and it lets out a short honk. This acts as an important portent to the end of the film along with the blemish in her left eye. If you have not seen the film yet, this might sound very cryptic, but if you keep your eyes open these little details are rewarding. Chinatown is a fascinating place to return to again and again after all.

5/5 Stars

Inside Llewyn Davis (2013)

Posted on February 6, 2016 by 4 Star Films

More often than not Llewyn Davis turns out to be a worthy character and I mean that in the sense that he is readily watchable. This probably isn’t the real folk scene of the 1960s, but it is the time and place seen through the Coen Brothers’ somber lens. Inspired by musician Dave Von Ronk, Llewyn is his own unique entity entirely. The film itself has a dreary look of washed out tones mimicking the days that most of us now know from black and white imagery. There are folk tunes wall to wall, befitting such a melancholy film, adding layers of melody and ambiance to this austere world of isolation.

In fact, we first meet Llewyn in a low lit bar singing the ode “Hang me, Oh hang me.” He’s not some budding talent or has-been. He had a partner once, who committed suicide by jumping off a bridge. They had a record that came and went out almost as fast. The unsold copies sit in a warehouse somewhere rotting away with the rats. That’s really Llewyn’s life. He’s couch hopping his way through Greenwich Village, a pitiful wanderer with the cat he was entrusted with in one hand and his guitar in the other. In the frigid winter air, he doesn’t even have a real overcoat. He can barely afford it.

The film goes so many places only to return to where it was. So much goes on without anything happening and so on. Llewyn has it out with Jean, a transformed and caustic Carey Mulligan, who doesn’t know who the father of her baby is. How it could ever be Llewyn’s doesn’t make much sense, since she seems to despise his guts. Why would she sleep with him?

Llewyn alienates his sister with his misanthropic outlook and foul mouth. He loses and tries to recover the cat of his folk-loving friends the Gorffeins. How they ever became friends we’ll never know. A spur of the moment trip to Chicago comes up and with it, there’s the token John Goodman performance that feels like an absurd aside to the entire plot. Then again, the film’s only plot is the wanderings of Davis, so if meeting passengers while hitchhiker marks his journey it seems pertinent. A trip to the Gate of Horn for an impromptu audition turns out to be unfruitful and it is the film’s most difficult scene. Davis lays all his heart and soul out there in a poignant performance and all he gets from the producer Bud Grossman (F. Murray Abraham) is that he should join a trio. He’s not solo material.

Llewyn returns to Greenwich dejected and things continue going poorly for him. So we end up leaving him about where we started. Bob Dylan, Joni Mitchell, Joan Baez would come in time, but it’s the musicians like Davis that are a sadder tale. Those who faded away over the years. Who lay beat up in an alley for heckling a performance in a hole-in-the-wall bar. It’s the circle of life of a folk singer and you wonder if he would ever have it any other way. Undoubtedly this folk oasis was a more hopping, more welcoming place than the Coen’s painted it, but it does suggest something powerful.

Why would somebody subject themselves to this type of lifestyle? Unless they’re insane and like to suffer, it must be that they really believe in the music. They believe in bearing their heart and soul because the music makes them feel alive. Obviously, there is more to life than music, some would argue that point, but it is a brilliant starting point. We can respect someone who sticks by their convictions and their passions. Even if it means chasing through the streets of Greenwich Village looking for a cat. You would never see me doing that. Maybe if it were a dog. Maybe.

4/5 Stars

Review: West Side Story (1961)

Posted on February 4, 2016 by 4 Star Films

Look at West Side Story through a simple lens and you might see a Shakespearian classic given a 1950s facelift and set to music. It might seem antiquated, perhaps not as politically correct as we have come to expect, and maybe a bit regressive. However, this musical based off of the bard’s famed Romeo and Juliet is most definitely a thematic spectacle pulsing with song and dance. It’s full of romance, full of angst, all expressed through the motions of the human body. In an age where we often feel like we have come so far and know so much, maybe a film like this is good for us if we take a step back for a moment.

Robert Wise’s film opens over the skies of New York and we are quickly introduced to the two competing forces that rule the streets with a “snappy” opening number. You have the local street gang, the Jets made up of delinquents of New York and the Sharks consisting of young immigrant Puerto Ricans. They hate each other for different reasons, but the bottom line is that they hate each other, and there’s no other way to slice it. A tiny scuffle broken up by Lt. Schrank and Officer Krupke is only a small tremor of what is to come, but it sets the tone.

The Jet’s leader Riff (Russ Tamblyn) is looking to have a rumble with their bitter rivals and the neutral territory at the local dance is the perfect opportunity to set things up. Although people are having fun and it’s a grand ol’ time you can tell there’s unrest between the factions bubbling under the surface. The indubitably funny John Astin makes a valiant effort to get them all to be friends, but it doesn’t work so well. Bernardo (George Chakiris) the leader of the Sharks accepts the offer to have a war council because he wouldn’t mind getting a piece of one of the Jets.

The glue that holds the narrative altogether, of course, is the romance that buds on the dance floor when our star-crossed lovers Tony (Richard Beymer) and Maria (Natalie Wood) first meet. This is important because Tony use to be a Jet and is still the best friend of Riff. Meanwhile, Maria happens to be the younger sister of head Shark Bernardo. This is a relationship that’s not supposed to happen and yet their inhibited, naive passion disregards all else. He’s obsessed with a girl named “Maria.” That’s all he has, a name to go with a face and yet he’s infatuated. The singing of “Tonight” reflects how caught up in this dream they really are. And finally “I Feel Pretty” is Maria’s own exuberant reaction to the turn of events.

As an aside, Richard Beymer supposedly wanted play Tony rougher around the edges instead of a hopeless romantic, but ultimately it seems alright that he did not. Only because this film is not simply a drama where a nuanced performance would be suitable, but it is also a musical and a romance. In many ways, we need his character to be as love-struck and idealistic as he is. Because his song and his love story are a striking contrast with the world he and Maria live in.

With the rumble afoot the following night, it can only spell trouble for all involved. The moment that Tony promises Maria that he will try to stop the fighting, he is part of it. Things turn out as he could never have imagined. In fact, no one wanted things this way, revealing how big a difference one single day makes. Tragedy hits with a vengeance, making this a marvelous piece of cinematic expression, but also a jarring indictment of this broken world we live in.

All the choreography in the film is directed by Jerome Robbins, and it is beautiful to see the melding of something so graceful like ballet crossed with the street gangs of New York. There’s something inherently contradictory about it and yet the culture, as well as the angst, is revealed so beautifully. It can be smooth and slick with a group of buddies or violent with arms flailing, heads contorting, and bodies all over the place. But it’s never vulgar, the people might be, but the dance never is. It is always enjoyable to see George Chakiris dance, and he’s not the only one, from Rita Moreno to a whole host of others. They move with such grace but it is never dull because it has feeling. And that extends to their entire performances. In fact, Chakiris and Moreno are probably the most enjoyable, because they are far removed from the dreamy-eyed couple of Tony and Maria.

The composition by Leonard Bernstein is obviously outstanding and this is one of the famous soundtracks in musical history including the “Jet Song”, “Maria”, “Tonight”, and “I Feel Pretty.” However, I think I was especially interested in “America” and “Gee Officer Krupke.” The first puts to song the two conflicting perspectives that lead to civil unrest. There’s the idea that America is this land of opportunity and yet there’s also a negative flip side to this ideal. Also, the second song in a comical way, comments on the treatment of the youth of America. From a film that might seem outdated, it has some pretty frank analysis of the never-ending cycle that goes on.

In fact, if we give our society a good hard stare, have things really changed? Are our discrimination and racism better than that of Lt. Schrank or just veiled behind greater open-mindedness? Are people still hating one another, even when they might be more similar than they realize? Is our society working towards collective good or are we slowly “killing” it through our acts of hate? Even a likable fellow like the drugstore owner Pop (Ned Glass) brings into question those who are against the violence but don’t really seem to do much about it. Words don’t act unless the people behind them do. That can go both ways.

All this pops into my mind because of a musical from over 50 years ago where, yes, Natalie Wood was, unfortunately, playing a Puerto Rican. But hopefully, we can look past that for a moment and see the artistic merit here and then think for a moment what themes we might glean from this West Side Story.

4.5/5 Stars

Atonement (2007)

Posted on January 30, 2016 by 4 Star Films

Without any prior knowledge and given what we know to begin with, it looks like Atonement will be a love story revolving around the characters of Keira Knightley and James McAvoy. They are, after all, the big stars in this WWII era romance based on the Ian McEwan novel. We expect to become enraptured in their passionate love affair that is to be indubitably broken up by war. However, it becomes evident very quickly that this is really a tale about a young girl and budding author, played through the years in succession by Saoirse Ronan, Romola Garai, and Vanessa Redgrave. It is her point of view and her part in this narrative that becomes most important, although we do not have any indication as to why to begin with.

So in front of the peering eyes of Briony Tallis, her older sister Cecilia (Knightley) and the son of the family housekeeper Robbie Turner (McAvoy) start something which Briony cannot fully comprehend and understand. What is it that is really going on around her? An intricate manipulation of time and place begins, relating the story from a number of perspectives, but always returning to Briony. How does Cecilia really feel towards Robbie, who is in a sense below her, but still proud? Briony knows she has feelings for the housekeeper’s son, but how is she to react when she finds her sister and Robbie crammed up against the bookcases together. Then, when a pair of pesky twins goes missing a search party begins. Again Briony sees something that she cannot fully understand, and yet she makes a judgment that will unwittingly tear apart two lives. There is constantly an inquisitiveness, a confusion in her expressions that is absolutely spot on. And in these moments the score is suffocating with its pounding, clanging, and banging.

Robbie gets sent away, torn from his love Cecilia, and Britain is on the brink of war. When the two lovers finally get a chance to see each other, he has joined the army in order to be released from prison, and she is working as a nurse. But it’s a heartbreaking separation because although the passage of time is condensed for us, we can easily see the reserved, hesitant quality in both of them. How are they supposed to react? It’s difficult to hold onto the same feelings, maintain the same type of passion when you’re separated by the years. Cee reaches out to touch his hand, and he avoids her slightly. You cannot exactly blame him, but there is a tinge of sympathy for her.

But their romance is quickly renewed and heightened once more in a matter of days, only to have the war this time pull them apart. And it’s something that’s very hard to rebound from. Robbie ends up in the middle of France and when he finally discovers the coast with a couple of comrades they come across all the forces at Dunkirk getting ready to retreat. For those engaged with WWII history, Dunkirk was in one sense a wounding blow to the English ego, but also a testament to their resilience. The men are beaten and battered, but escape the Nazi onslaught to fight another day. And yet we don’t see the fighting. With a wonderfully dynamic tracking shot director Joe Wright gives us an eye into the tired and wounded masses. And it’s somber, chilling, melancholy, and still strikingly beautiful in the same instance.

Back home, Briony is now working in a hospital almost as penitence for wrongs and soon the hospital is inundated with wounded from the retreat. She is quickly thrown into action comforting a dying French soldier with a penchant for the soft refrains of Debussy. Then, comes the pivotal confrontation where Briony, now older, faces her sister who has refused to talk with her. And Robbie is there too. Together they painfully and angrily point out what the young girl had done to both of them. It’s heart-wrenching to the nth degree and yet the final revelation makes it all the more painful.

Now many years down the line, Briony, who is now much older (Redgrave) and an author of 21 books, is interviewed about her final novel Atonement. It lays out the events of the whole film, and she explains her reason for writing such a story. She wrote it to be read by the public certainly, but most importantly she wrote it for Robbie and Cee. To give them closure and the dignity that they deserved.

So you see, it’s the book within the book really or more correctly Ian McEwan writing a novel called Atonement featuring a fictitious version of the same work. In a sense, I do feel manipulated by this film, but do I mind? Not really. I don’t hold it against the film because it tells its story with so much beauty and grace.

4/5 Stars

Days of Heaven (1978)

Posted on January 28, 2016 by 4 Star Films

You can see Terrence Malick’s fingerprints all over this film and that’s certainly not a bad thing. It has his eye for the breathtakingly beautiful visuals and there is almost a spiritual quality of reverence to its pacing and tone. Slow, methodical, and ultimately deeply impactful. And there are so many Biblical parallels that can be taken hold of as well.

It’s as if Malick cannot bear to be stuck indoors. He hates having walls surrounding him especially when a camera is involved. He takes considerable interest in the sky, the landscapes, and creatures inhabiting the space around him. It’s not just his human subjects either, but everything of all shapes, sizes, and sounds. He cares about the exterior more than the interior, the earth and the heavens rather than anything made by the hands of man. It’s that type of approach that allows for such breathtaking visuals from Nestor Almendros and Haskell Wexler because the priorities are set. The sky is literally the limit.

The story opens during the presidency of Woodrow Wilson and a young man named Bill (Richard Gere) is forced to flee his mining job for Texas taking along his girlfriend Abby (Brooke Adams) and his younger sister Linda. They travel around hitching a ride on a train looking for work until they finally find seasonal jobs at a Texas ranch in the fields. Life is relatively tranquil, although the work is hard. Bill maintains that Abby is his sister to keep people from getting ideas, but they are very close.

However, the young reserved owner of the ranch is instantly taken by her. She does not share his feelings, but a marital union is formed on the advice of Bill. After all, then she would have a cut of the man’s inheritance and the farmer doesn’t suspect a thing. So in this way, the love triangle is put into place, and yet relations still remain genial between everyone. This is a life they can get used to, especially for young Linda. That is until the man notices the intimacy of Bill and Abby and it angers him deeply. It’s only exasperated because Abby is starting to have feelings for him causing the web of romance and feelings to become ever more complicated.

And of course, on the day of the locust, the final restraints holding the farmer in place are released, and he unleashes on Bill with all his wrath. He is incensed beyond reason and once again Bill finds himself in another incriminating situation which he must flee from. Abby must start over with a new life and Linda finds herself at a boarding house. It’s not where we thought we would leave them, but it nonetheless satisfies as a half-resolution. It might as well be.

Many might notice that the narrative of Days of Heaven is rather thin, being held together by the meandering narration of Linda Manz. All this took Malick over 2 years to weave together into cohesion and it may not be a perfect fit, but it was thoroughly captivating because his film-making style is so visually robust. It’s often shot at gloriously magical times of day where the outlines of people and things become beautiful contours or stylized shapes. The sky is often bursting with color or warm like a painting of pastels. Those are the images that you are left with.

On her part, Brooke Adams is a natural beauty much in the same way of a Katharine Ross. Richard Gere is necessary with his playful and still fiery ways. Sam Shepard has a plainness and a calmness to him, but he really made this film with his explosion of emotion at the end, because something needed to break through the muted characterizations. It changed how we see him and really ups the tension of a generally restrained film.

4.5/5 Stars

Review: Rocky (1976)

Posted on January 26, 2016 by 4 Star Films

The original installment of the popular franchise, Rocky was the pinnacle, and despite innumerable remakes, it still has never been eclipsed. World Champion heavyweight Apollo Creed (Carl Weathers) even outlines why Rocky is, in fact, so popular. There’s nothing more American than an underdog story. A bum, an Italian Stallion, duking it out with the big boys and getting a shot to prove himself. From Creed’s point of view it’s all part of the act, a fine publicity stunt to bring in the public, but the film Rocky works on a similar principle. Most people relate to Rocky (Sylvester Stallone), and maybe at the very least, they can find it within themselves to root for his character even if he’s different then them. The beauty of this film is that Stallone and his creation were unknowns. They were nobodies. By the time all the sequels came out he certainly had garnered a following, but some of the intrigue of this whole narrative was lost in the process. He no longer felt like a long shot.

Furthermore, this film could have easily been a run-of-the-mill boxing movie. We’ve seen acclaimed performances in them before from people like Brando or even Kirk Douglas and John Garfield. But the character of Rocky makes all the difference, allowing the old standard to work once more. He’s a bum like most of the film boxers we ever became acquainted with, and he’s a little short in the brains department, but perhaps without even knowing it he good-naturedly embodies the spirit of his native Philadelphia. We cannot understand what he grunts half the time, but his actions reflect “The City of Brotherly Love.”

He cares about others on a level that some people don’t dare, and it even creeps into his work as an enforcer when his boxing prospects aren’t good. He doesn’t like being hurt or made fun off, but at his core, he’s a gentle spirit. He can’t bring himself to break a man’s fingers, he wants the kids to get off the streets and uphold their reputations. Above, all he constantly cracks jokes to the younger sister of his best friend Paulie (Burt Young). Her own brother won’t give Adrian (Talia Shire) the time of day, but despite her timidity, Rocky pops in on her everyday holding one-sided conversations at the pet shop. It doesn’t feel like simple common courtesy. He really likes her and grows to care about her. So really if this movie was just about boxing it would probably have faded away with so many other like-minded movies.

In the narrative, Rocky goes through all the hoops and finally reconciles with veteran trainer Micky Goldmill (Burgess Meredith), who looks to live vicariously through Balboa. He also deals with Paulie, who is prone to drinking which leads to volatile outbursts. And he even grapples with the media attention that comes courtesy of a bout with Creed. The montage of his training has become a thing of legend, hands outstretched with Bill Conti’s “Gonna Fly Now” ringing out over the steps below him.

Then there’s the showdown that the whole film culminates to and it’s nothing unusual, nothing we wouldn’t expect, but that’s the beauty of it because we want it anyway. We finally see everything on the line. Everything that Rocky has been working for is either to be realized or dashed to pieces. Well, the ending is a bit of a cop out, but you need some way to start the next sequel, right? This storyline is simple, almost naive in a way, but sometimes films like that are enjoyable and necessary. Every once and awhile we need a good underdog story to lift our spirits.

Sylvester Stallone burst onto the scene in lovable fashion and just like the film itself, I’m not sure he ever topped his original characterization of Rocky. He might be a broken coconut upstairs, but he certainly has a lot of heart. Humor me for just one moment because I have to say it at least once, “Yo Adrian!”

4.5/5 Stars

Room (2015)

Posted on January 24, 2016 by 4 Star Films

Room_Poster Brie Larson has been on my radar for a while, ever since The Spectacular Now and Short Term 12. But she’s also a personal favorite who deserves to be in the company of other such shooting stars as Jennifer Lawrence, Shailene Woodley, Miles Teller, and Michael B. Jordan just to name a few.

Some of us already knew Larson had great performances on tap, but Room was just the ticket to get more people to finally prick up their ears and take notice.

From the annals of contemporary literature comes a story that asks us to buy into a premise that constantly unravels and unfolds until we are opened up to entirely new worlds. Ironically enough, it comes from shedding all falseness, getting outside of the box, and getting back to the old world — the real world.

Jack (Jacob Trombley) has spent his entire existence in Room with Ma (Brie Larson). Television has become his main educator and he believes in magic realms beyond Room that exist within the world of T.V. In truth, he has an utterly false sense of reality, but how could he not? All he knows are the dimensions of Room with a little skylight to peer out of and a tiny closet where he keeps his bed. His hair is overgrown like a little Samson and Ma tries to keep him fit and healthy the best way she knows how.

But Jack cannot quite comprehend what is happening around him, after all, he’s only 4. After his birthday, Ma decides it’s time to try and explain it to him. They are being held in Room against their will. A man name Old Nick kidnapped Ma, continually abuses her, and keeps her locked up. She doesn’t give Jack all this, but all he needs to know is that Nick is bad and they must try to escape. That is enough.

In essence, Ma fabricated this reality to keep him out of harm’s way. This bubble, known as Room, is all Jack has ever considered to be real. The rigidity and the regiment are what his life runs on. Now it’s time to leave the rabbit hole behind and relearn how the world ticks.

The initial conceit brings to mind Bunuel’s Exterminating Angel whereby the main characters are simply unable to leave a room — but the reason is arbitrary. Here Ma and Jack are able to get help and reacquire their freedom. But being outside of the confines of that space does not make life any easier.

Jack is an inquisitive, skeptical little boy, who even has moments of belligerence. However, when getting to the outside he clings to Ma like never before, because she is the only human form he has ever known besides Dora the Explorer and his imaginary dog.

Although the camera work feels rather shoddy at times and unextraordinary at best, the film nevertheless evolves into a human drama and its true substance dwells therein.

There’s a matter-of-factness to Trombley’s voice-overs that deliver his honest observations of all that exists around him. The aftermath of abuse is volatile. Director Lenny Abrahamson’s film removes any notions that life can simply be normal again in a normal world with normal relationships because that’s just not true. It cannot be. The mundane is never as simple as all that. There are complications and confusions. Room‘s latter moments are quieter, more tender, and even more heart-wrenching. But there’s also searing pain and red-hot altercations. They’re about survival in the wake of something so horrible like abuse, but it’s also about surviving all the repercussions that follow.

For Jack, that means making discoveries with a fresh, innocent pair of eyes. There is absolute sensory overload with new and novel stimuli flooding his senses constantly. He’s subjected to new sights, sounds, words, and the entire world that he hardly ever knew. He even needs to learn how to play like a little boy.

For Joy it involves dealing with what’s going on in her head and coping with pain that has been festering for years, causing her to lash out at her family. Even interviews cause her to question her own choices that are now fully solidified with the passing years. Could she have reacted differently? Did she have Jack’s best interests in mind?

The relationships of father, mother, and daughter, mother and son, dredge up pain and hurt. However, a suicide attempt and a stay in the hospital for Ma, reveal Jack’s child-like faith in what it means to live. They are two wounded individuals. One who has entered into a world that he has never known, and the other trying to settle into a life that now feels so distant and foreign.

Room is about two people making their way in the world. It succeeds not simply because of its anchoring performances, but due to the fact that it is willing to dwell in the difficult, heart-wrenching, and even mundane places. In those areas it speaks of love and strength that allows even the smallest most damaged goods among us to shed any shackles that inhibit our joy in life. Love knows no boundaries. That doesn’t make it easier. It’s just the truth. Ma and Jack are able to give up their baggage — reconciling the old with a new way of life.

4.5/5 Stars

Never Let Me Go (2010)

Posted on January 18, 2016 by 4 Star Films

The film is adapted from the novel of British author Kazuo Ishiguro, who also penned The Remains of the Day. Having not read the source material, I was obliged to take this material on its own merit and so here it goes. This is a numbing, wistful, sorrowful film and the dystopia is set in England circa 1978 in a boarding school. That’s where we first meet the students at Hailsham, who are special individuals with an important purpose in society. They will grow up to be “Carers” and “Donors” in society so that others might be given life. Although it’s an important role it ultimately means a shorter life expectancy compared to normal individuals and they are completely isolated from the outside world until their adult years.

The main people of interest are Kathy, who quickly befriends Tommy, a boy who is often made fun of, and she is secretly smitten. But as time passes one of her closest companions Ruth steals him away from her despite constantly making fun of him initially. Now as they get ready to move onto the next stage of their lives at The Cottage, Kathy (Carey Mulligan) is noticeably still hurt that Tommy (Andrew Garfield) is with Ruth (Keira Knightley) and not her. That plagues her and tears her apart inside. You can see it in her eyes and body language, although she never says it explicitly. It’s there.

I must admit, not having read the novel, I have a feeling I did not grasp all the ins and outs of this world, but I did understand what this love triangle meant for those involved. Also, in the back of their minds, they know life as they know it will be ending soon enough. After years pass Kathy is now a “Carer” and is reconnected with both her old friends, who look a lot more gaunt than they ever did before. Ruth admits she should never have come between the other two and they do get together, but it seems far too late for another love story.

Never Let Me Go speaks to the transience of life, the limited time we have on this earth because in the case of these characters life is even shorter. It got to me with its melancholy and I don’t mean that it simply saddened my mood, but by the denouement, I felt deeply affected. Keira Knightley’s role seemed rather unextraordinary although necessary. The real interest for me was watching the relationship form between Carey Mulligan and Andrew Garfield before being quickly taken away. Then hearing the narration of Mulligan as she tries to make sense of this story and what has happened. On a lighter note, the hairstyles in the film are quite impressive with the bangs and whatever Garfield has going on there near the beginning.